Tears Beauty & Dreams

By T. R. Robinson

A compilation of three abridged memoirs depicting a life that among other matters shows how resilient the human spirit can be, especially that of women. This true tale commences with the young girl enjoying the wonder of a very happy loving caring family home. However, matters where to change dramatically with an untimely loss. From there on her innocence, loving nature and incredible naivety, combined with her natural beauty, were taken advantage of by both family and strangers.

This woman’s story is truly more intense than fiction. Within it the readers will come across: War; Torture; Domestic violence; Sexual abuse; Near murder; Single parenthood; Lesbian violence; Pimps; Rampant jealousy; Gunman; Homelessness; Love; Wealth; Poverty; Threats of being cut into pieces and of being shot; Snakes; Degrading abuse of relatives; And much more. The cruelty and meanness of people truly comes through. Nevertheless, overall this is a story of survival despite the odds. And, of course there are some of the more amusing events everyone experiences form time to time even if they are few and far between.

*****  A brilliant tribute to a brave and courageous woman you cannot help but admire more than any other writer whose biography I have read. Every woman should read this book and gain strength from it. (From review of the first book in the series.)

• Language: English
• Publisher: T. R. Robinson
• Release date: Mar 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386917755

T. R. Robinson

My initial inspiration to write came from when I realised my life, as well as those of my ancestors, were anything but ‘normal’. They were certainly not ‘run-of-the-mill’. Originating within a very loving family I was, at a very early age, unexpectedly thrown into a very cruel world. Abuse, torture, violence and disappointment followed and have been my companions for as long as I can remember. However, there were also some enjoyable fun times that I recall with pleasure. For example: when a good friend and I, dressed in evening gowns and with our best jewellery on, fell face first into mud or when a young man, stopping me in the High Street, went on his knees to, as he put it, ‘worship’ me. These and other similar events still bring a smile to my face. Having survived the abuse, torture (World War II) and eventually escaping from domestic violence I went on to experience a variety of different employments. Laboratory assistant, night hospital orderly, machinist in a clothing factory, finally finding a niche in the world of public houses and night clubs as a barmaid and waitress. Though not glamorous these did provide the income, by working three jobs at the same time, to support and bring up my son. Regrettably I did not entirely leave abuse and violence behind me. But I am a survivor and am here to share a variety of tales, both factual and fictional, with you. Website: http://www.trrobinsonpublications.com If you have comments or questions or would like to contact me for any reason, please use website ‘Contact’ form at: https://trrobinsonpublications.com/contact/ Other books by the author: Details and links to other books by the athor may be found at: https://trrobinsonpublications.com/books/ I hope enjoyed this book and would appreciate you leaving a review on any of the social media sites you may use as well as Amazon, Goodreads, etc. T. R. Robinson 2017

Book preview

Book 1

Tears of Innocence

1 The End

The snow covered scene had delighted me as I looked on it through the kitchen window. I’d never seen snow before and had been very excited. Mama sat by the roaring fire sewing. Papa had gone to the café to meet up with the men of the village. My sisters and I had been doing our homework when a sudden howling wind had made us jump. It had been as if a pack of demented souls were trying to break through the doors and windows. I’d love to go and play in it. I could be the first to leave footprints just like the birds.

May I go and play outside?

Not now darling it’s getting dark. I’d remained by the window and enjoyed watching as the snow fell from the wind battered branches, creating little hillocks all round.

All of a sudden mama had turned round.

Did you hear that?

What? My sisters and I had replied in unison.

A baby crying. Mama had moved to the door.

It’s just the wind. The screeching wind had been blowing through the snow heavy branches and battering the building.

No. That’s a baby’s cry. Mama had been a sensitive soul and her caring nature often detected things others didn’t.

It can’t be!

You’re all to stay inside. I’ll be back soon. She’d then put her shawl on and gone out of the door.

I know mama said we’re to stay here but shouldn’t we follow her?

I don’t know. We shouldn’t disobey her. What do you think?

I’m not sure either.

Where’s she gone?

I wasn’t watching. She could’ve gone in any direction.

Well that decides it. We’ll have to wait and watch out for her from the window.

Once outside she stood still and listened carefully. With the persistent vociferous wind battering its way through the snow laden trees, and the continual plop, plop as snow fell from branches, hearing anything else became a strain. Nevertheless, she was certain she’d heard the cry of a baby. Then in the midst of the other noises a tiny whimper came floating through. Step by step she moved in the direction from which she thought the cry had come. Darkness was falling and it was increasingly difficult to see. Nonetheless, she wasn’t going to concede and kept moving forward with hand outstretched to detect any obstacle there may be in her way. The chaotic conditions kept distorting the direction from which the cry came but she determinedly moved forward. Straining her eyes and ears she spotted some movement and heard another tiny whimper. And there under a snow covered bush she discovered a new born baby. Quickly scooping him up, she wrapped her shawl round his tiny body, then turned and headed back, the light from the windows now guiding her.

It seems ages since mama went out. Where can she be? Ah! There she is. Mama had gone straight to the fire when she came in. Mama’s soaked through and she’s shivering. I hope she’s all right. What’s that bundle in her arms?

I was right. There was a baby. Mama had then unwound her shawl to reveal a new born baby, naked as born

Oh!!

He’s very cold. And so small. A deep look of concern had crossed her features. So there was a baby. Where did mama find him? How come? I’d so love to know. But I don’t think this is the right time to ask questions.

It looks like someone’s abandoned this poor child to die in the snow.

No! Our mouths had fallen open, a little like gasping fish. Who’d do such a thing? God must be very cross with them. I can’t believe anyone would purposely try to kill a baby. When older my sisters and I realised he’d been either an illegitimate child, a very serious matter in those days, or one more too many for a family already struggling on the starvation line. Horrible, but desperation can lead to unreasonable behaviour. There was no welfare system and anyone who may have been able to help was probably already struggling to survive themselves.

Helen. Watch the baby while I go and get some warm clothes for him. Make sure he doesn’t hurt himself should he turn or kick out and keep him by the fire. Helen had been my eldest sister. Mama had then gone out the door and up the path that led to the main house. Our kitchen, scullery and bathroom were in a separate building from the main house. Families like ours didn’t like their living quarters impregnated with unpleasant odours. When returned mama had quickly washed, dried and dressed him. She’d then wrapped a soft fluffy blanket round his tiny body. Oh look, he’s so weak he’s not even kicking out his little legs. Did someone really leave him to die so horribly? Is it possible? Who’d do such a thing?

Helen you hold him. Gently now. Anna! Bring me some milk from the scullery. Make sure it’s today’s. Anna had been my other sister.

Here it is mama. She poured some into a saucepan and placed it over the fire.

Treasure. Go to the left hand drawer in the dresser and bring me the bottle you find in it. Mama had been talking to me. Goody I’m going to help too. She’d then washed the bottle and poured the warmed milk into it. Having gently lifted the child from Helen’s arms she rested him on her lap and carefully put the bottle teat to his lips. He’s not going to drink.

Cooee. Come on. It’ll be good for you. His mouth’s opening.

Come on. There, good boy. Oh look he’s drinking.

Poor little thing he’s so weak he can only take a few drops. We’ll just have to be patient and give him a little at a time. Papa had come in just then. Seeing the baby in mama’s lap he raised an eyebrow and quizzed her with his eyes. He’d been accustomed to her looking after unwell and unfortunate people but a baby in the house was something new. Mama had quickly explained.

Would you please get the old crib from the house?

Here it is. Shall I put it by the fire?

Yes. Thank you.

Rupert, that was the name we gave him, remained very weak and had been unable to take but a few drops of milk each time we fed him. His exposure to the heavy snow and severe cold had taken a toll upon his tiny body. He looks so pale and weak. I wish we could help him more. Mama’s also looking pale and tired. I hope she’s all right. During the whole time Rupert was with us it had been mama who took primary responsibility for looking after him. It was her who cradled him when he was unsettled. It was her who got up when he cried. When a fever took hold, it had been her who sat with him throughout the cold nights. Goodness knows what papa had thought of all this. If only we didn’t have to go to school we could help more. And mama insists we do our homework instead of playing with Rupert. Throughout mama never neglected her regular responsibilities; household, livestock and us. Neither had she failed in her ministrations to those who needed her. The cold weather had resulted in more sick and unwell to attend to. It had been a punishing routine. Naturally she’d also made enquiries to try and establish who Rupert belonged to but without result. No one wanted to own up to having abandoned a new born.

Unfortunately, mama’s escapade in the snow had left her with a chill which, despite her own medical administrations, she had a doctor’s degree, got worse. Even the old herbal remedies handed down through the family proved ineffectual. Caring for Rupert and sitting up on cold nights couldn’t have helped.

Mama are you all right?

Yes of course I am dears. Mama looks so ill. I’m worried. Better not say anything. The others would probably just get cross with me if I do.

ONE DAY I RETURNED home from visiting a friend to find Helen waiting for me at the door. This is unusual. Why isn’t she at Tom’s house? She usually is this time of day. Helen had been in a serious courtship with the boy who would become her husband. Time for her ‘little’ sister had been the last thing she had.

Go to your room and pack some clothes. You’re going to stay with Elaine for a few days. Elaine had been my best friend.

Why? We haven’t made any plans for me to visit her.

Just do what I tell you and hurry up!

But, I don’t want to go to Elaine’s.

You’re going and that’s that! I’ll take you over when you’re ready. Now hurry up! I know I enjoy going to Elaine’s but what’s the rush? Something’s wrong! I side stepped my sister and ran into the kitchen to ask mama. Where is she? She’s usually getting the food ready for tonight’s meal now. Mama had admitted for a couple of days she hadn’t been feeling very well but it hadn’t stopped her going about her daily routine. What’s happening? My stomach hurts. I can’t breathe! Why do I feel like crying? My sister’s command, its unusual nature and the tone of her voice, had alarmed me. Something’s definitely wrong!

Helen had followed me into the kitchen.

Where’s mama?!

She’s not feeling well and is resting in her room. We’re not to disturb her. Now I know something’s wrong!  Mama never keeps us out.

I want to see mama!

You can’t. Now hurry up and get ready.

I want ...........!

GET READY! I know that voice. And that look in her eyes. No point in arguing. She’ll just get angrier. Reluctantly I’d packed a small bag with the minimum of clothes and toiletries. I’m sure it’ll only be for a couple of days at most. Mama will want me back home then.

Come on! Helen’s very quiet. Why? What’s upset her? Why wouldn’t she let me see mama? I’m frightened. I don’t want to go. Keep quiet. Best not upset her anymore.

WELCOME, WELCOME, IT’S nice to see you again. Elaine’s parents had greeted me.

Thank you.

Come on let’s go to our room and leave them to talk. We went upstairs.

You don’t seem very happy. Is something wrong?

Sorry. I’m okay. My friend had been no fool but had kindly not pressed the matter. Instead she had tried to bring me out of myself.

Here’s the new doll papa bought me.

She’s beautiful. I want to go home. I want mama.

Have you seen this new board game? It’s really fun.

Is it? How does it work? I mustn’t be rude. It wouldn’t be fair.

I’ll show you. Come on concentrate, be fair.

It’s no good. I don’t want to be here. Something’s wrong at home. What can it be? Why wouldn’t Helen tell me? I’m frightened. My chest feels so tight. It hurts. I can’t breathe! Over the next couple of days my friend had continued to show me her new toys, games and books. I’d tried to take an interest but couldn’t get my thoughts away from home. I’ve never been away for this long before. Why hasn’t mama come to see me? Why hasn’t anyone one been? Is mama ill?

Excuse me do you know if everything’s all right at home?

Um, O yes, okay. It’s time for dinner.

Thank you for having me to stay. I’d like to go home now.

Why don’t you and Elaine go and play in the garden.

Why won’t they answer me? Something IS wrong! I don’t care what anyone says, I’m going home!

Good, Elaine’s asleep. I’d quickly dressed and crept out of the bedroom. I must see mama. She must be ill. Why else wouldn’t she have come to see me? I must know! I tiptoed through the house. Watch those squeaky boards and stairs. My heart’s beating so loud. Please God, don’t let anyone wake up. I reached the yard. Thank goodness no one’s woken. Good, clear sky and full moon. When I touched her the grey mare had startled and neighed.

Shush. Come on you know me, we’ve ridden together enough times. She’d quietened once she realised who I was. Grabbing her mane I’d swung myself up onto her bare back. Bother I forgot the chickens. The cock had crowed at the top of his voice while the hens cackled in alarm. At least I’ve a head start should anyone wake up. Anyway it’s not far. I knew the track well and the mare was sure footed so I’d made her canter as fast as possible. The bright moonlight had made it easy to avoid any pits in the path and we arrived without incident despite the fast pace.

This is odd. Why are there lights in all the rooms? And why are there so many people? There shouldn’t be visitors at this time of night. Something’s definitely wrong! The sight had caused my heart to beat faster, my blood to boil and my stomach to somersault. I’d jumped off intent on running straight to mama but as my feet hit the ground I recalled my sister’s attitude. Better not let anyone see me. So how am I going to get in? There’re people everywhere. What’s going on? I’d left the mare to graze a little distance from the house. Using the natural cover provided by bushes, trees and general undergrowth I’d stealthily moved toward the building. How am I going to get across the yard? The moonlight’s so bright. I’m bound to be seen. Ah, there’re less people at the side. Doing my best to control my nerves I’d taken a deep breath and made a wild dash. People had been so occupied in their conversations I’d made it to the wall unnoticed. Then using the darkened doorways and shadowed corners I’d slipped inside. Now what? I need to get to mama’s room. But how can I without anyone seeing me? I carefully looked round corners and down passageways. Everyone seems sad. Why? Why am I frightened? I must ask mama. I made it to the bottom of the stairs. Good there’s no one here. Careful, I mustn’t make any noise. As I ascended the staircase my heart beat increased. Oh no! Why are all those people standing round mama’s door? How am I going to get in? The French window? No, the balcony’s crowded. I’ll have to go through the door. I’ll have to run under people’s legs. I think I’m small enough. I’d drawn in my breath, gathered my courage and darting out from behind the balustrades had run as fast as I could. My sudden unexpected appearance resulted in a momentary inertia which had allowed me to get to the door. Quick don’t let them grab you!

Where’s mama? Oh! Why’s she in bed? Is she ill? Without further hesitation I’d made a beeline for the bed. Throwing myself under the edge of the mosquito net I’d climbed onto the covers. She looks so pale.

Mama! Mama! Tears had been in my eyes and a burning had started in my throat.

Ah!

Ooo!

Looook!

Umm! And a variety of other gasps had resounded from round the room. Mama had been lying very still but on hearing my cry had opened her eyes.

My pet you’ve come at last. I love you very much. Now be a good girl and remember all the things I’ve taught you. Her voice had been soft and weak and had grown fainter as she spoke.

God be with you. I love you very much. She’d then let out a deep gurgling breathe and passed away. Double pneumonia had taken its ultimate toll. The hand that had been caressing me went limp and fell to her side. NO!

Please don’t go! Please don’t go! I love you. I’ll be ill for you. You stay and I’ll be ill. Please don’t go! A pain such as I’d never known stabbed through me. No! No! No! You can’t leave me! Though I’d comprehended mama was no longer with us I hadn’t really understood where she’d gone. I’d floated in a dark ethereal mist.

Mama! Mama! Speak to me! Talk to me! My soul was in shreds.

She must’ve been waiting for her. Someone had whispered.

Yes, she’s been hanging onto life by a thread in these last days. Did you see how she let go once her daughter was here?

May God bless her. She was such a lovely woman.

God please bring mama back. I’d felt as if a volcano had been erupting within me. I’m frightened. Please hug me. I want to feel your arms round me.

Mama! Mama! Mamaaa!!

I’d been so distracted I hadn’t noticed my sister draw the mosquito net aside until she’d tried to pull me off the bed.

No! I’m not leaving mama! She’d continued to pull. I’d clung to mama. I won’t leave you. I’ll stay with you! My sister had persevered. I’d grasped the blankets.

No! No! Let go of me! But in the end she’d been too strong. I’d sobbed and sobbed. My heart was broken. Only darkness and torment now existed within me.

At the tender age of five the life I knew had ended.

MY SISTERS AND I HAD been too young to continue looking after Rupert so father arranged for him to be adopted. We never saw him again.

2 Brother George

Subsequent to mama’s death and despite my obvious need for comforting I’d been roughly pushed aside.

Keep out of the way!

Stop getting under my feet!

What do you want now?!

People hadn’t appreciated then that children need to be included in the grieving process. I’d been left on my own for most of the time. My only solace had been remembrances of mama, our past life together and the things she had told me.

MY ADVENT HAD BEEN unplanned and consequently many people had referred to me as my parents ‘love child’, a phrase which has a completely different meaning these days. My birth had been preceded a few years earlier by two daughters and a son. Helen, the eldest and most sensible; George, regrettably he died before I was born and Anna, the mischievous one. The household had therefore comprised mama, papa, my two sisters and I and my maternal grandma who lived in close proximity.

Grandma had been an intelligent woman who’d survived the murder of her husband and the death of all but one of her children. But those are tales for another day and another book. A clever, witty and resourceful woman she, after the death of her husband, had no choice but to take on responsibility for the family businesses. She’d proved to be a savvy business woman. However, it had soon become evident her increasing age as well as her past experiences were telling.

I get so tired these days. I don’t think I can go on with the daily running of the estates and businesses.

Do you want me to take over?

Would you mind? I’d be very grateful.

Of course I don’t mind.

Thank you so much. And so papa had taken on the responsibilities.

I can’t just sit idle all day. I’ll go mad. I know I’ll set up a haberdashery in the village. It wouldn’t be too onerous or tiring and it’ll give me something to do.

Are you sure?

Yes. I want something to do.

All right. We can always help if you need us to.

That would be kind. Thank you. And so grandma established her new enterprise.

WHY DO THEY NEVER TALK about George? There must be some reason. I’d like to know about him.

Mama, will you tell me about George?

There’s nothing to really tell. He died before you were born.

I’d like to know about him. Please tell me.

Mama had consistently put me off. But I’d wanted to know and kept on asking. She eventually realised I wasn’t going to give up. So one day when we were alone told me the story.

Your brother was a gentle sensitive boy. Too sensitive really for the masculine world in which he’d have had to live. He was also a nice looking child. I later learnt from Helen that George had inherited some of papa’s handsome looks as well as some of mama’s striking features.

I think you and he would have got on very well.

I wish I’d known him.

Your father loved George but they were very different. He never really understood his son’s sensitivity. Papa had been very much a ‘man’: tall, broad shouldered, confident, handsome and very masculine. His authoritative nature had commanded respect and fear. Something he’d probably inherited from grandpa who with his white hair and beard had reminded me of Moses.

You know how your father gets if he thinks someone’s doing something wrong. Whenever cross papa could be quite terrifying.

As you know whenever your grandmother needs it one of us will help her in the shop. I’d barely been able to see over the counter when I first took my turn.

Your brother was closing up one day when your father had come striding along the path. He saw that George had something in his hand.

Mama went on to tell me the story. She’d pieced together the events from discussions with George and papa.

What’ve you got there?

Money, mother ...... George had tried to explain. Apparently his natural shyness and sensitivity had resulted in him going red in the face.

How dare you steal from your grandmother!

I haven’t. Mother ...... My brother had cried in a plaintive voice. Although papa had been a just man he never really listened once his temper had been aroused.

Don’t lie to me! Come here! George had shied away in trepidation but papa grabbed his arm.

Ow! You’re hurting me.

You think that hurts, wait till I’ve finished with you! Papa had then struck his son. He was a powerful man and undoubtedly his blows must’ve hurt. He hadn’t been a brutal person but any perceived wrongdoing had always resulted in him becoming exceedingly cross.

But I haven’t done anything wrong! Mother asked ...... Again George had tried to explain.

I’ll not tolerate stealing by you or anyone else!

But! ...... George managed to pull away. He’d then run off into the forest.

Come back here! George had continued to run and lengthen the distance between them.

I’ll deal with you later!

Of course mama knew nothing of this until papa had arrived home in an obvious bad temper. It hadn’t always been wise to speak to him when he was cross.

What’s wrong dear? Mama had asked in a soft timid tone, which had left papa with the option of answering or not. He’d then recounted what’d passed between him and his son.

I asked George to take money from the till and buy some bread for lunch.

At this juncture of the story I’d regretted having pressed mama into telling me: tears had collected in the corners of her eyes and she looked so forlorn. Had I been older and understood better I may not have asked. I’d reached out and held her hand. She smiled, drew her tears back with a sigh and a small convulsion and continued.

George still hadn’t come home by the time papa had explained. He’d now been gone for over an hour.

We better go and look for him.

Don’t be silly. He can look after himself. He’ll come home in his own time.

You know how sensitive he is. He’ll be really upset by your accusation of stealing. He’s probably too frightened to come home.

I suppose you’re right. I wish he wasn’t such a softy.

Don’t be so unkind.

All right. Where should we look? You know him better than I do.

George told me later how he’d run until he was out of sight and ear shot of his father. Once he felt safe he’d stopped and wandered round not sure what to do. The unjust accusation had been what upset him the most. He was an honest boy and would never have intentionally done anything wrong. I wish he’d come straight home.

Was papa very cross?

At first until I explained.

I feel sad for George.

We went along all the usual forest paths thinking George had probably gone somewhere familiar. We called for him but there’d been no response. I’d begun to get anxious because the weather was changing. From a warm sunny morning it had changed into a cold wind driven rainy afternoon. I’d also been worried a snake may have bitten him or he may’ve been hurt by one of the forest animals. I kept trying to think where he may’ve gone, whether he had any favourite places. The rain got heavier and your father and I got drenched. I’d begun to despair when all of a sudden we saw him sheltering in an alcove in the rock face. He was soaked and shivering. I’d been so relieved I just hugged him. He’d stiffened at the sight of father but I told him I’d explained about the money. Father sensibly hadn’t come too close.

Mother had stopped here for a moment to recover her composure.

When we got home I made George change and go to bed. He was evidently chilled right through. I then gave him some nice hot soup. He’d still been very upset about what’d happened but I assured him father now understood and was sorry for having flown-of-the-handle. He’d settled down then and I left him to doze.

Mama had taken another deep sigh here.

Regrettably the chill took a strong hold. No matter what the local doctor or I did it wouldn’t shift. We’d watched helplessly as he twisted and turned in sweats and fever. Within a few days he died. Oh! Mama’s so upset. I wish I’d never asked. I can only assume my brother must’ve died from either hypothermia or pneumonia. I never asked. Had George lived I think he and I would have been close.

To some degree the family reticence must have been born out of mama’s sadness and papa’s sense of guilt; this had been his only son in whose death he could not but help consider he’d played a contributory part. He must’ve felt terrible about the misunderstanding. I’m sure with her loving nature mama must have forgiven him but it can’t have been easy for either of them thereafter.

THIS HAD BEEN JUST one of the remembrances that occupied me during those dark times between mama’s death and the funeral which would prove a truly testing time for me. Would I survive the experience?

3 Farewell

Mama’s death and my subsequent treatment had left me feeling barren, destitute and alone. No one had bothered about me unless it’d been to push me out of the way. I regret even my sister hadn’t been very kind during this time. Mama did warn me to keep out of Helen’s way if she weren’t around. But I’m sure she doesn’t mean to be so unkind. It must be because she’s so busy. I wish they’d let me help. Oh Mama, I miss you so much.

Good Anna’s arrived. She’d been summoned home from university.

What’re you doing up here? I’d been sitting on the balcony.

Helen won’t let me help. Everyone keeps telling me to get out of the way. So I came and sat here.

I’m so sorry. You must be feeling terrible. Anna had then given me a big warm hug.

I miss mama so much. How can we live without her? I wish I knew where she is. I could go to her. I feel so alone.

I know. I know. I feel the same.

Where is mama? Do you know?

When people like mama die they go to heaven. It’s a nice place. So that must be where she is.

Can we go there? I want to be with her.

You can only go there when you die. I’d then looked into her tearful eyes. She understands! Without exchanging a word we’d taken hold of each other’s hand and moved round to the far side of the balcony. We looked over the handrail. It’s a long way down. That should do it. Again without a single word passing between us, we’d moved to the edge. What’s going on?! Who’s that? A strong arm had wrapped round my waist.

What do you two think you’re doing? Papa’s voice. What’s he doing here?

Let go of me! I want to go to mama!

I thought as much. I’ve been watching you two whispering.

Please let go of me.

Darlings I know you’re upset. I miss mama too. But what will I do if you leave me. I need your help. Papa had then embraced us both. We’d felt the strong deep sobs vibrating within him.

Sorry papa. We thought we were alone. How are we going to live without mama? I want to go to her.

I know. It’s not easy. But killing yourselves won’t help. Mama wouldn’t want it. We’ll have to help each other. I need you both with me.

LONG ESTABLISHED TRADITION dictated, where possible, funerals be conducted on the day after death or at most the second day. Consequently, on the following morning I’d been unceremoniously dressed completely in black right down to long black socks. No one seems to care how I feel. They just want me out of the way. Anna had been commandeered into the arrangements so had been unable to spend time with me. No one wants me here. I’d either sat on the balcony or in a dark corner again musing on mama and all we’d done together. I know what they’re doing has something to do with mama. But what? I’d not really understood what was going on.

Come on.

You made me jump. Helen had abruptly interrupted my contemplations when she grabbed my hand.

I didn’t mean to. Come on we’ve got to go. She’d then led me through the house and out the front door.

Ow! Sunlight had been reflected off the hearse. What’s that doing here? I think I’m going to be sick. Helen will be even crosser if I am. I‘d managed to push the sensation down. The hearse had then set of at a slow pace and we followed behind.

There’re a lot of people. What do they want? Mama had been well loved and esteemed. Many owed their health and some their very lives to her ministrations. Several also acknowledged without her teaching they’d never have enjoyed the quality lives they did. Rich or poor mama had never made a distinction therefore all strata of society had come to say their personal farewells to such a unique lady.

Mama can’t be in that box can she? No, no, Anna said she’s in heaven. I feel dizzy. Look I can see mama laughing. Now we’re in the kitchen. Oh she’s telling me a story. We’re saying our prayers. We’re looking at the flowers. We’re feeding my pets. Ha! Ha! Look at the chickens run. Mama’s hair’s so soft. Angels! Crosses! Headstones! Wreaths! Black clothes! I wish this mist would go away. A kaleidoscope of clashing images had paraded through my mind. But somehow I’d kept putting one foot in front of the other. It probably had been more to do with Helen dragging me on than anything else. It’s so misty. I can’t see properly. Where are we? I’d been in such a state I’d completely missed the fact the service had taken place. We were now in the cemetery.

What are they doing! The pallbearers had been lowering the casket. No! This can’t be happening! Somehow I must’ve gained some comprehension of what this had all been about. I’d then ripped my hand free from Helen and thrown myself across the coffin.

Mama! Mama! I’ll stay with you. I won’t let them put you down there! Several people had tried to pull me off but I had a firm grip on the edges and wouldn’t let go.

I’m staying with mama! Leave me alone! Eventually one of the men had managed to force my fingers apart and lifted me away as the coffin had been lowered to its resting place.

LEAVE ME ALONE! I WANT TO STAY WITH MAMA! LET GO!

THEY’RE SAYING DEATH means mama’s gone for ever. I don’t believe them. She’s just somewhere else. I must find her. In a bewildered and preoccupied state I’d searched throughout. I’d looked; in every room of the house; in all the utility buildings; in the outhouses; in the garden; in the fields; even behind bushes, trees, doors and in cupboards and under beds. The balance of my mind must have been in serious danger. I feel so empty. But there’s such pain inside me. I don’t understand. Mama I miss you so much. Where are you? I need you. With each passing day my health had deteriorated. Weight had dropped off until my clothes hung off me as if I were a thin wire hanger. My eyes sunk into their sockets. My cheek bones became so pronounced it appeared they would break through my flesh like some horrible creature from ‘Alien’. Family and friends had become increasingly concerned. Ultimately the family doctor had been summoned.

Your daughter’s unlikely to recover while staying here where there are so many memories of her mother. At the very least she’s likely to suffer a mental breakdown, at worst, death.

What can we do? Papa had asked.

I suggest a complete and immediate change of environment. Their voices had penetrated through the ethereal fog though I’d no comprehension of actual words.

Now sweetheart, listen to me. When the doctor left papa had led me to a quiet part of the house.

Um. Oh. Yes. His words had brought me out of the mist.

You know you’re not very well?

I’m all right. I’m just tired and missing mama.

I know you are. We all are. But staying here isn’t going to help. I’m going to take you to the convent.

I don’t want to go to the convent. I want to stay here.

The mountain air and quiet surroundings will help you get better.

I don’t care about getting better. I want mama! I want to stay here!

Don’t argue. You’re going. With that he’d lifted me in his arms and carted me off. I’d been too small to fight him.

I don’t want to go! I want to stay home! With each step it had felt as if even more of my soul was being ripped out piece by piece. Why is he doing this? Doesn’t he love me anymore? I don’t want to go. I want mama. After a short while he’d put me back down on my own two legs and led me along the familiar forest paths. The convent had been built on an outcrop higher up the mountain into which our village snuggled.

I don’t want to go. I’d constantly pulled back with tears running down my face.

It’ll be good for you. You know I’d never let anything bad happen. Do I?

I want to go home.

No. You’ll like it once you’re there.

I miss mama.

I know sweetheart. So do I.

Why can’t I stay with you?

You’re ill and need the fresh mountain air. Now stop arguing. You’re going to stay here. Understand?

Yes but I don’t want to. I’d usually enjoyed the panoramic vistas afforded by gaps in the trees. But on this day had been so introverted and occupied with my thoughts I hadn’t even noticed them.

Hello my dear. I’m pleased to welcome you and hope you’ll enjoy your visit with us. Mother Superior had been waiting. She’d bent down to be on eye level with me. You’re just like everyone else and want to take me away from home and mama. I don’t like you. I did eventually become fond of her but at this time had been too cross to even respond to her greeting.

Sister Maria, please take our new friend to her room.

Hello. I hope you’ll like it here. Sister Maria had smiled sweetly as she took my hand.

Papa, I want to stay with you.

Don’t be so silly sweetheart. You go with Sister Maria. I’ll come along and see you in a minute. My room had in fact been one of the nuns ‘cells’. However, they’d kindly decorated it with beautiful fresh flowers not that this had made any impression upon me at the time. I don’t want to be here. I want to go home. Why is papa doing this? How can he leave me here?

Well, this is nice. Papa had come to see the room.

I don’t want to stay.

Look at these pretty flowers. You’re lucky to have such a nice room.

Papa, I want to go home with you. Please don’t leave me here.

We’ve talked about this. You’re not well and I want you to get better. You need the fresh air and the quiet.

Papa ..........

Now please stop it. You’re staying. No more argument. I have to go now.

Oh papa. I’d clung to him desperately.

Come on now, the sisters will think you don’t like them. I don’t like them! I don’t like you!

I’ll come and see you soon. He had to prise my arms away before moving to the door.

Be polite to the sisters. Remember I’ll be back to see you very soon. I would’ve chased after him but knew it would make him angry. I fell on the bed in floods of tears. Mama’s gone and now papa’s left. Nobody wants me. I wish I was dead. I could be with mama then. There’s nothing left for me. I might as well die!

4 Damn Bee!

C ome on dear, you must eat something.

I don’t want anything. O Mama. Where are you?

It’s a lovely day. Why not come and see the new spring flowers? They’re ever so pretty.

Please leave me alone.

I’m not going to have any more of this nonsense. You’re to join the sisters for meals. Mother Superior and eventually taken charge.

I don’t want to.

No arguments. You’ll do as I say. If you don’t come on your own I’ll have you carried to the dining hall. Generally she’d been kind and sympathetic but could also be very firm and strict. Her stance on these occasions had been quite intimidating for someone of my years. I mustn’t be rude, mama wouldn’t like it. Anyway I think she means it. And I don’t want to be dragged to the hall in front of everyone.

We’re so glad you’ve come to join us. What would you like? There are vegetables and some fish. The sisters had enthusiastically chorused on my first going to the dining hall.

I’m not hungry. Thank you.

If you’re to get better you must eat.

I don’t want anything, thank you.

You must eat something. Do you want us to call Mother Superior? No I don’t!

No. But I really am not hungry.

Try a little soup. Better have something before they do call her. They’re obviously not going to give up.

That’s better isn’t it?

Thank you. It was very nice.

Now you’ve had something to eat why don’t you come and help us with the flowers in the garden and with the animals? Papa had told Mother Superior about my love for nature and all things living. I just want to go back to my room. Why can’t they leave me alone to die?

All right. Mama said we must never be disrespectful, so I better go.

Come and help me plant these vegetables.

Go on pick some of those flowers for your room.

I could do with some help collecting the eggs. Everyone had been so considerate and had done their best to involve me with whatever they were doing. They’re so kind but I just want to go home to mama. My mind had got confused. One minute I wanted to die and go to be with mama in heaven and the next I wanted to go home to see her. Somehow her death hadn’t fully registered.

Though the nuns had been unable to distract me from my contemplations the bouncing lambs and kids (young goats) had. Almost unconsciously I’d slipped into the habit of helping out. The days had passed pleasantly enough though my heart never stopped aching. Despite the distractions my thoughts had constantly returned to earlier life. I wasn’t even six and already I’d a past to recall.

THERE HAD BEEN NO RUNNING water at the convent so the sisters and I had collected what we needed each day from a nearby pool. I remember when mama and I used to get our water. It used to be such fun.

In those days, early 1930s, there’d been no household running water. Wells had been established for people who lived in the lower environs of the village. However, those of us who lived higher up had to find other sources. Our supply came from a stream in a small valley not far from our house. The path leading down to it had been excessively steep and narrow.

Mama, I’m going to fall.

It’s all right dear. You won’t fall. Just hold onto me.

But it’s so steep.

I know but it’s safe. Grandma used to come here and she never fell.

Why are you carrying a barrel?

I need more water today.

I could carry it.

No dear you’re too small. You can carry a bucket.

Please let me carry the barrel. Like most children not only had I mimicked my parents but had also wanted to be treated as ‘grown up’.

Darling, it’ll be too heavy for you.

But you and the other women are carrying them. If they can do it so can I.

But we’re older and bigger than you.

Please mama.

You’ll not be able to darling.

What does she want?

To carry the barrel.

Oh! It’ll be too heavy for you dear just like your mama said.

Please mama, let me carry it. I’d continued to ask.

All right darling if you really want to. I’ll help you put it on. Mama hadn’t wanted to break my spirit and accepted sometimes we have to learn from our own experiences. Copying the adults I’d sat down on a ledge for the barrel to be strapped on. Now I’ll show them I’m just as grown up as them. I can do what they can. I’d then pressed my feet into the ground. Nothing’s happening! I pressed even harder. Ow! The barrel had nearly pulled me head over heels. What’s wrong? Why can’t I get up? I’m not going to give in! I CAN do this!

I can’t lift it. I tried to hide my tears of exasperation and embarrassment. They’ll all laugh at me now.

It’s all right dearest. Everyone knows you want to help. Mama had wisely avoided interfering allowing me to learn for myself.

Here you carry this bucket back and I’ll use it for this evening’s meal.

All right. I’d smiled weakly. At least no one has laughed. I’ve often chuckled at the sight of me, a small child, trying to lift a barrel which the adults had found hard enough to carry, especially up the steep, uneven, narrow track.

Because it hadn’t been possible to carry sufficient water back for the laundry we used to take it down to the stream. These’d been great socialising times when the ladies would join together to chat and sing.

Why are you rubbing the sheets on the rocks?

It helps get them cleaner. When we rub against these groves in the rock it stretches the material and allows the dirt to wash out.

Can I help?

The sheets are too big for you but you can help with the towels and handkerchiefs. Goody. See I can do what they can.

What‘s Martha singing?

It’s one of our oldest songs. Would you like to learn it?

Oh! Yes please! I so enjoy doing what they do.

All right. I’ll teach you the words and you can learn the tune from Martha and the others. Later I’ll teach you some of our other songs.

Tra la la. Tra la la. I like singing. I’m just like one of them.

It’s so nice here mama. I like the butterflies and the smell of the trees.

Yes darling, I like it to. We’ve been coming down here for years and none of us ever tire of its beauty.

And the water’s so nice to drink.

This stream has been running for as long as anyone can remember. Grandma used to come here when she was a girl and it was running then.

THE CONVENT, LIKE MOST, had been self-supporting. Besides the vegetable garden and small collection of livestock the sisters had also kept bees. I wish they’d stop their buzzing. I hate it when they come near me. I remember that day in the field all too well.

I’d been walking through fields near our house when a bee flew under my dress. Frantically dancing and jumping round I’d attempted, without success, to get it out. My gyrating must have agitated it.

Ouch! That hurt! Tears of pain had welled into my eyes. Oh No! It can’t have stung me there!

Aaaaaaa!!!!!! It hurts so much! It had been as if the delicate flesh had been set on fire. I’d twisted and turned in sheer agony like some scarecrow spinning in a hurricane.

Aaaaaaa!!!!!! People are looking! Go away! Where’s mama?

What’s wrong?!

Can we help?!

What’s the matter?! I wish they’d go away! I’d been too embarrassed to tell anyone. Besides my own shyness we weren’t supposed to let anyone but our mothers and husbands see our naked flesh. I can’t let anybody see! I’d continued to run round like some demented lunatic.

Darling what’s wrong? It’s mama! No I can’t tell her. Others will hear. What shall I do? Mama had seen how frightened I was and wisely hadn’t chased after me.

Come on dear. Stop and tell me what’s wrong. Silly girl. Mama will help. I’d then run to her.

A bee stung me under my dress. You won’t let anyone else look will you?

Of course not. Now come with me and I’ll make it better. Taking me to a shadowed corner of the kitchen she’d carefully lifted my dress, removed the sting and applied a soothing ointment. Ohhhh!! What a relief!

Sissy!

Baby!

Why’re Helen and Anna being so cruel? They know I don’t like anyone to see me naked. I don’t think they like me anymore.

Stop teasing her. You know how upset it makes her.

Come on darling. Don’t get so upset. You know they don’t mean it. No I don’t!

Sorry.

Yes, sorry.

From that time on I’ve had a fear of being stung. I have frequently been seen to run with arms flaying like some mad creature from bees, wasps, horse flies and other such beasts.

MOTHER SUPERIOR HAD apparently kept a discreet eye upon me. She’d eventually realised though I appeared to enjoy the garden and animals I’d remained forlorn and my health wasn’t improving. She’d therefore summoned papa.

I’m afraid rather than getting better your daughter is deteriorating. I’d hoped being here with us in this quiet peaceful place would help. I’m very sorry it hasn’t.

What should I do? I don’t think taking her home again will help.

I agree. In my opinion, if you want to save your daughter, you need to take her away from the area all together. Being so close to home doesn’t allow her to forget or come to terms with her mother’s death. It’s now obvious her trauma is very deep and severe.

Well, I suppose she could go and stay with her sister Anna.

That sounds like a good idea. At least she’d have someone who cares close by. Why not ask your doctor what he thinks?

Yes I will. Thank you for trying to help, we all appreciate it very much.

I’m really so sorry it hasn’t.

May she stay with you while arrangements are made? I don’t want to take her back to the house.

Of course. We love having her here and all of us will be sad to see her go.

Papa had come to see me afterwards but said nothing about his conversation with Mother Superior.

Papa!

Hello sweetheart. How are you?

Can I come home?

No, not yet. I’m sorry. I knew he wouldn’t let me.

Oooo Papa, I want to come home.

I know, I know, but not yet.

When?

We’ll see. I hear you’ve been a big help with the garden and animals.

Yes. The flowers are nice and I like the lambs and kids.

Good. I’m glad to know you’re making yourself useful. I’ve got to go now but I’ll be back in a couple of days. He’d then kissed me and left. Everyone keeps going away. I want to see mama. I want to go home.

True to his word papa had returned two days later.

Hello papa.

Hello sweetheart. Have you been behaving yourself?

Yes. One of the sisters had then appeared. Why has she got my bag? My question must have shown.

You’re going to stay with Anna. Won’t that be nice?

But I want to go home not to Anna. I don’t want to leave here unless I go home. The sisters are kind and I feel safe. Why Anna?

You’re going to stay with Anna for now.

Do I have to?

Yes. We all want you to get better.

I could get better at home.

No sweetheart. You have to go to Anna.

If I can’t go home I’d rather stay here. I like the sisters and I’m all right here.

No darling. You’re still unwell and you’re going to Anna’s. He’s not going to change his mind. I mustn’t make him cross. We were leaving straight away. The sisters and I had kissed and hugged each other, I with tears.

God go with you. Mother Superior had kissed me on the forehead. Papa had then taken a firm hold of my hand and led me out onto the forest paths. I don’t want to go. I’m frightened. First I was taken to Helen’s in a hurry then I was brought here in a hurry. Now what’s going to happen?

5 Dragons

Ican’t breathe! I feel sick. I want to go home!

Can we go home?

No. There’s no time. We’ve to get to the station straight away. I don’t believe you. I want to go home. I want to see mama. Who does he think he’s fooling? I know these paths lead away from home. Better not say anything, I mustn’t make him cross. Later I learnt everyone had considered, correctly probably, for me to have seen my home then would’ve been detrimental.

My sister Helen had been waiting at the station. We just had enough time for quick hugs, kisses and goodbyes. This is wrong! We shouldn’t be leaving. When am I going to see mama or home or Helen again? I’m going to cry. No don’t, they’ll get upset and cross. What’s going to happen to me now?! I’m scared. I don’t want to go. What’s that?! Shunting and puffing smoke everywhere the train had pulled in. It’s breathing smoke just like one of those dragons in the stories. I don’t like it! Before I could say anything papa had lifted me on. I don’t want to go into its belly! Oooo! It’s going to eat me! Papa’s getting on! It’s going to eat us both!

Stay close behind me. He’d not had to ask twice.

I’m frightened papa.

It’s okay sweetheart. We’re just going to find our seats. He’s going into its belly! From a distance I’d seen trains going through the valley but to me they’d always looked like a long dragon weaving its way along.

Here we are. These are our seats. What’s wrong dear? You look terrified.

I thought the dragon was going to eat us.

What dragon.

This dragon.

The train?

Y...es.

Oh sweetheart. This isn’t a dragon.

But we’re in its belly.

This is called a carriage. If you look out of the window you’ll see there are more of them.

I saw smoke coming from its nose.

"The smoke comes from the fire that makes