Tell Me a Story – Monique: The Early Years

By Jenny Arnesen

What impact can a seemingly ordinary woman have on the world around her?
Moniques idyllic childhood takes a drastic turn with her fathers involvement in world war II. Forced by circumstance to become stronger than she knows how, she tackles life with love and devotion.
But is she strong enough to stand all life throws at her, can she love those around her enough so that they can grow to be the beautiful people she sees.
Her story takes her through the trials of being left behind during a time of war. She leaves the Cape to start her life in Natal only to find her soul mate along the way and settle in the beautiful area of Clarence in the Freestate, she is always drawn to those in need and through this ends up living in Durban, but love always wins through and she returns to Clarence and her beloved. She becomes the centre of love and guidence to her family and affects the lives of her family as well as those drawn to her.
Her life truly becomes a testament to what we can achieve and have if we are only willing to love with everything inside of us!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: May 4, 2011
• ISBN: 9781462865635

Jenny Arnesen

Jennifer was born in Natal where she lived most of her life with the exception of one year she spent in the Free State where she came to know and love the mountains of Golden Gate and the little town of Clarence! Her inspiration comes from the love of her three children, her daughter-in-law and son-in-law, three grandchildren a loving mother and a devoted sister and all the friends that have stood by her and encouraged her in her time of writing. The kindness and assistance of her niece, Cindy Crow who was instrumental in making this all happen! The encouragement and support of David Underwood and all the staff members of Sharpline, the publishers and all those involved in the success of these books.

Book preview

Tell Me a Story - Monique

The Early Years

Jenny Arnesen

Copyright © 2011 by Jenny Arnesen.

The design for this book was created by my son-in-law, Shane Meyer and coloured and completed by Jeremy Moonsamy.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2011906844

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4628-6562-8

                   Softcover                                 978-1-4628-6561-1

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4628-6563-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

0-800-644-6988

www.xlibrispublishing.co.uk

[e-mail]

301197

Contents

The Early Years

My Father and the Declaration of War

Wealth and How Things Change

The Coloured Folk Try to Understand

My Mother’s Sorrow

The Letter and a Hard Time to Leave

Francois the Attorney

The Manila Envelope

The Train

Robert Prentis and His Concern

We Have a Deal

Robert’s Influence on My Mother

On the Road Again

Getting to Know Each Other

The Strengthening of a Friendship

A Secretary Bird and Mother’s Turn to Drive

The Hotel in Bloemfontein

The Free State and the Freezing Cold

Clarens, Robert’s Home

Confessions of Love

Elsa

The Farm Next Door

Bareback Riding

An Offer to Purchase

Francois Negotiates

The Farm

The Labourers

A Time to Trust

We Leave for Pietermaritzburg

Family Matters Revealed

Durban and the Property Deals

The Colonel

A New Decision

Mother

Robert’s Surprise and Anger

Home at Last

Letters from the Coloured Folk

My Father

My Parents Leave for Durban

And Baby Makes Three

Peter the Child

The Heartache of Saying Goodbyes

The Bomb

Peter and Estelle

Jacklin

Peter and Estelle

The Pest in Peter’s Life

Peter Dates and Falls in Love

Alli and Peter

Peter’s News That Jim Is Leaving

The Anniversary

The Choice to Sell

Alli’s Children

No Greater Love Than a Child

Calvin the Child

Barry and Paula

Calvin’s Interests

Calvin the Man

Jade’s Return

A Troubling Storm

Jade and Her Decorating Skills

Robert’s Personal Physicians

and His Heart

Interests that Vary in the Family.

Calvin and Jade’s Children

Christmas, New Year, and Accidents

Lizzy, Tamara, and Jacob

Robert’s Farewell

The Early Years

The year was 1925. Monique Storm Delaroux was the only daughter born to General Vince Marx Delaroux and Seleen Delaroux. Monique was born in the little town of Villiersdorp which lies nestled in a lush green valley, about a day’s drive from Cape Town. The town is surrounded by mountains and fruit farms. The mountains and surrounding valley abound with wild flowers and wildlife.

The Delaroux family was the proud owners of a very successful wine farm and orange orchard at the foot of the Aasvoelberg Mountains.

Monique was taught to ride horses at a very early age by her father and the coloured folk, and she spent many hours in the mountains with two close friends—Vicky Venter and Shawnee Maritz, two coloured children whose parents were employed on the Delaroux farm.

There were trains that travelled through this mountainside and cut across a section of the Delaroux farm. It was a regular game for the three girls to race the trains across the plain to the mountainside where the train would disappear into the tunnel and emerge on the other side to continue its journey on to Cape Town.

The train drivers all knew of the three girls, and they would blow their whistle and wave when they saw them and then do the same just before they passed through the tunnel.

Seleen set off to the next town one morning before the sun was even up.

Our Ford truck had been loaded up the previous evening with crates that Mother may have needed for packing in and others that were filled with fruit and wine that she would drop off with the merchants to whom they had been sold. She left instructions for Timothy, Shawnee’s father, to accompany her.

Seleen, my mother, was a tall and attractive woman who stood no nonsense from anyone. She ran our farm together with my father with a fair and very firm hand. On most occasions, Daddy was kept busy in the vineyard or in the orchard, so she would take it on herself to take the truck and her trusted employee Timothy and set off to buy whatever provisions we needed for the running of the farm.

Mother had a relative in the next town with whom she would often stay for the night. While she was away, she would leave Vicky to run our household and ensure that our family and hers were fed and cared for.

Vicky’s mother had died of tuberculosis when Vicky was only three. Her father and my mother had taken care of her since then.

All the labourers were fed from the farmhouse kitchen, and no one was left out ever. The result brought happiness, trust, and loyalty.

I stood on the veranda watching as my mother drove down towards the vineyard, dust rising behind her as the truck faded into the darkness.

My Father and the

Declaration of War

The light was fading fast when my father came up to the house that evening, dusty and exhausted. He sat on the step and removed his shoes and socks, took off his hat, and tossed it onto the rocking chair behind him, rubbing the ears of Rover, his dog, as he came bounding up the stairs to him.

‘Hey, boy! Missing your missus?’ he asked the dog kindly.

I came out to greet my father, and he patted the step beside him.

‘Come, my precious child. Come, sit here beside your father,’ he said.

‘Are you tired, Daddy? Would you like me to run a hot bath for you?’ I asked, sitting beside him and placing my hand in his.

‘I’m quite capable of doing that, sweetheart. For now, just sit with me a while. It is so beautiful at this time of the day, just to sit here and watch the setting sun as it paints the mountainside.’

‘When will Mother be back?’ I asked.

‘Sometime tomorrow in the late afternoon. It’s a long haul to load the truck for the return trip. I just hope the weather holds out. I hate having to stay here while Mommy travels all that way. I worry myself sick until she gets back home,’ my father said, looking up into the evening sky.

‘Why doesn’t she ever take the train?’ I asked.

‘No, Monique. The train takes two days there and two days back. They stop at all the stations along the way and then they spend one full day in Cape Town before starting their journey back. On a hot day, the fruit and the wine would spoil. They do not travel the route that Mother takes, and besides, she loves the scenery.’

‘Two days of travelling to reach Cape Town? But the train passes here every day!’ I said indignantly.

‘It’s different trains, sweetheart. Not the same train each day.’

‘How are your lessons going with Martin Blake?’ he asked, dropping the subject of the trains.

‘Fine, thank you, Daddy. He says that I will have to go and write my final exams in Cape Town or one of the other towns that has a recognised university one of these days. He feels confident that I will pass no matter what they set for the exam.’

‘Well, now, that’s good news! So when you have all this education and exams behind you, will you be ready to take over the farm?’

‘I’m only just turning eighteen now, Daddy. I think perhaps a little longer before that can come about.’

Daddy laughed softly and drew his arm about me.

‘You are such a blessing, Monique! Most women are married and have children by the time they are eighteen. Would you go see to that bath for me now, if you don’t mind. After supper, I will have a game of cards with you and then it’s off to bed. I really am tired tonight.’

Hot water was available at most times because of a donkey boiler that Daddy had set up in a stone-built housing outside the kitchen. He had piped the water to the kitchen and through to the two bathrooms in the house.

I ran his bath and threw in a few leaves of scented geranium. I placed clean towels on the stool beside the bath and went to tell him all was ready.

Vince had laid pipes from a borehole which fed the house with cold water. Large geranium and lavender bushes grew huge in old wine vats that had been cut in half and filled with soil. These were used to freshen linen and as a fragrance for bathing.

While Father bathed, I removed the hot loaves of bread from the oven, wrapping them in a warm towel; finished churning the butter and ladled it into wooden pots and smoothed the surfaces and then set them in the refrigerator, removing one block that was already set; and using a teaspoon that Father had bent specifically, I drew it across the block of butter, placing the curls into a delicate glass bowl for the table.

‘Daddy, red wine or white?’ I called down the passage.

‘What’s for supper?’ he called back.

‘Chicken and corn soup and pot roast beef with mash and peas.’

‘White wine with the chicken soup and red with the beef. I will be with you in two minutes. Leave the wine to me.’

We sat together in the kitchen and ate supper. Then I made us a cup of coffee each, and we went out onto the veranda.

Father carried out the two paraffin lanterns and set them on either side of the table and brought the pack of cards from the reception hall.

While playing cards, we could hear a motor vehicle in the distance, and it was coming this way. We both got to our feet and stood at the balcony looking out into the distance. We saw the car stop, and the headlights illuminated the gate as a man’s figure got out and opened it. The car drove on through and stopped once more, obviously to have the gate closed behind them. Then the headlights came closer and closer as we stood and watched.

‘Who would be calling on us at this time of night, Daddy?’

‘Trouble, Monique!’ he said quietly as he placed his arm about my shoulders and drew me close to him.

The car reached us, and two men in dark suits got out and came up the steps.

‘General Delaroux, sir. England has declared war on Germany! We have travelled two days to get to you. We have instructions to take you back to headquarters with us, General!’ the tall man said as he held his hand out to my father and then both men stood to attention and saluted him.

‘Lieutenant Marx!’ my father greeted him, smiling.

‘The troupes are gathering as we speak, General. We have little time. Your regiment will be the first to leave. We have to return to headquarters in Cape Town.’

‘Very well, men. Wait for me here. I shall be ready in twenty minutes. My daughter will make you both some coffee. Be seated!’ he said, and then he took my hand and led me inside with him quietly closing the door behind us.

‘Make them coffee, Monique, then come into my room. I need to speak to you. Bring paper and a pen, you need to make notes! Go!’ he said.

I made coffee and took it to the two men outside, excused myself from them, found pen and paper, and went to my father’s room.

Wealth and How Things Change

I was in a state of cold shock as I walked back to my father’s room.

Things were happening too fast for me to comprehend! I could not understand what or why this was happening. I only knew that my father needed me to be strong, and I was having a little trouble with this. I wanted to be his little girl. I wanted to be held in his arms and comforted. I wanted to be told that this was all a bad dream, but I knew that this was no dream. Life had just dealt us an awful blow, and my father needed me to be strong and face it. I was no longer his little child. I was a grown woman, and somehow, I knew that in the next few moments, I would leave every trace of my childhood behind me.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked quietly on his door.

‘Come in, Monique. Sit here and listen carefully to what I am going to tell you now. Your life and that of your mother’s could depend on it.’

I did as I was told and sat quietly on the edge of the bed and watched. Father was packing army clothes into a canvas kitbag, and he carried on while he spoke.

‘On your mother’s return, I want you both to pack everything that you may need and go to Cape Town. There you will meet a man who is both my lawyer and my friend. His name is Francois de Villiers. He is prepared for just this day. He will take care of every financial need you may have.

‘From the day that you were born, I have had him invest five pound per month for you, an investment that he advised me to take out. He is a very clever man, and he has invested wisely. You are in fact a very wealthy woman, Monique. I made sure that I invested double your amount for your mother from the day we married. She is not aware of this, there was no need to tell either of you at the time, but now the need is here. You are both wise and qualified enough to take care of finances for you both. You are a grown woman, no longer a child. Your mother has no idea how to handle money, so I want you to promise me that you will take care of her for as long as she lives. I will make arrangements for Francois to sell the farm as soon as he can!’

‘I had sat quietly listening, and suddenly, the seriousness of what he was telling me became clear, and I felt a shiver run up my spine!’

‘Why? Why do we have to sell the farm? Why are you speaking as if you won’t return?’ I asked in shock.

‘Because, my darling, I have a very high rank in the army, and if anything happened, the first thing they would do is seek out and destroy my family!

‘I am entrusting you to find somewhere safe, Monique. First, go to Pietermaritzburg and find Phillip Delaroux. He is my cousin and was always fond of your mother. He is too old to be called up to the war, but he will protect you both. If you choose not to stay with him, then you must speak with Francois, and he will do whatever you wish to be done. I will contact him just as soon as I can. He will advise you what is best. Rely on his judgment. He has only your interest at heart. He will not let you down. You have my solemn promise on that,’ he said.

‘You don’t sound certain that you will come home, Daddy?’

‘Monique, you and your mother are my life. You are stronger in spirit than any son I could have wished for. Never once in all my life have I ever regretted having only you! You have fulfilled every dream I could ever have wished for. This is the start of the Second World War. I feel it in my blood, and my senses tell me that there is a strong possibility that I may not return from this war alive, and my heart tells me to make the right choices for my beloved family.

‘Only one thing in life is certain, Monique, and that is death.’

I heard his breath catch in his throat, and I wanted so desperately to put my arms around him and cry. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t show weakness to my father. I loved him so dearly, and this was tearing me apart.

He turned his head from me and carried on speaking, ‘I will meet Phillip and leave instructions for him to meet you at the Royal Hotel in Pietermaritzburg. I will find Francois and advise him what I want him to do. Should he not sell the farm within the next month, I want you to leave here anyway. Francois will take care of things. You will have nothing to worry about. When you see him in Cape Town, I will leave a note for you with him.

‘Mother will go to pieces when I find her and take my leave from her, so be prepared to be strong. Treat her with love and understanding, and she will come right. She is not as strong as you, Monique. In fact, she is not strong at all. So don’t be shocked when you see her. Remember what I am saying to you, and find it in your heart to understand her.’

‘Do you honestly have to go, Daddy? Stay with us, we need you!’ I said, fighting the tears that threatened to storm from my eyes and from my heart.

‘I am so sorry, my darling. I have to go!’

‘The country needs me to make a safer place where you can live in peace. You and your mother must do as I say. If it is God’s will, then I will return and find you. But now I must go. Remember one thing, Monique. I love you with all my heart. Be safe, my darling daughter, and live your life to the full. Take care of your mother and never regret one thing that you do.’

He lifted his kitbag, took down his revolver and placed it on the bed, then took me in his arms and held me close but not before I saw the telltale tear that ran down his cheek as he brushed it away quickly.

I stood on the veranda, with my father’s dog at my feet and watched as they drove away. At last, I let the tears flow as I stood staring into the dark night until the red tail-lights disappeared into the distance, leaving nothing but silence and sorrow in its place.

‘Why did I have to lose my father? What did Cape Town have to do with the fact that England had declared war on Germany? They were two countries a long way away from us.’

I cried myself to sleep that night, and as if he understood, my father’s dog Rover lay on the floor beside my bed, not leaving my side for a moment, as he whined softly.

I woke early the next morning and went down to the milking shed to find Joseph. He sat on a milking stool with the bucket held between his knees, and he looked up as I approached him. He smiled up at me happily. He had two front teeth missing, but nothing ever seemed to bother him. Joseph is Vicky’s father and was second in charge when Timothy was not around.

The coloured folk were a happy crowd of people. They sang a lot of spiritual songs, and I loved to listen to them. Joseph had been singing the ‘Hallelujah’ song when I walked into the stable. But now he went quiet and looked up at me. He saw the red-rimmed eyes that looked sorrowfully down at him now. He placed the bucket on the ground and got to his feet.

‘Ms Monique, dat car wot come here in der dark. He be dat car wot take der general?’ he asked in his broken English.

‘Yes, Joseph. Can you finish with the milking and come to the house to talk to me?’ I asked.

‘I be through in quick time, Ms Monique. Joseph he come speak then!’

‘Thank you, Joseph,’ I said and turned back to the house.

I could hear Shawnee and Vicky singing ‘He’s got the Whole World’ on top of their voices as they mucked out the stables.

They were such lovely people; how was I going to walk away from this. This life that I had known since my birth! These were the people I had grown up with.

Yesterday, I had felt like a child; today, I felt like an old woman who had lost everything overnight.

‘Why did you allow this thing to happen, Lord?’ I asked sadly, looking up to heaven. ‘You have allowed them to take away what I loved. Now I have no one to ask but you. Help me, please! Help me. I cannot do this alone!’ I prayed.

The Coloured Folk Try to Understand

I went up onto the veranda and stood leaning against the balcony and looked out over the farm that I loved. The smell of orange blossoms drifted across in the breeze.

Even though the winter was about to set in, the mountain and the fields were still a mass of colour as the last of the wild flowers and protea’s bloomed out there. I could hear the last few calls of the night jar as it bade goodbye to the night and went off to find a resting place for the day.

I could see the sunbirds as they began their day of collecting nectar. A red-breasted robin hopped on the lawn below a worm dangling from his beak.

As I stood in silence, an icy breeze blew off the mountain, and I shivered. I looked back down