WHITHER THOU GOEST 11 - LENA'S STORY

Today I really feel every one of my eighty-nine years.  I have something to tell my daughter Sarah that no Mother should have to hear, and I have been sitting here trying to straighten things out in my mind, and work out just how to break the news.

 

My name is Lena Strawinski.  I was born Lenora Felicity Beauchamp, the youngest child of a very old Hampshire family. My life was very comfortable, in spite of the fact that the Great War had ended just a few years before my arrival;  the constant reminders of this were the photographs of my Mother’s two brothers in silver frames on the piano; both wearing the uniforms of British Army Officers.  My Uncle Jack I knew well; but the other photograph, my Uncle Edwin, had a black border, for he had been killed early on in the war.  My Mother, The Honourable Elizabeth Seymour-Smith, would often pick his picture up and sigh, ‘Poor Teddy, so young, all his life ahead of him!’

 

My father, Captain Francis Beauchamp, had survived the war by virtue of having lost a leg at Mons;  he was a lovely man, so kind; never said much but still managed to enjoy life as a country gentleman, leaving family matters and household management to my mother.  They had married at the beginning of the war, a hasty but still rather grand affair apparently, and by the time my Father set sail for France at the beginning of 1915, Mother was already expecting my brother Frank.  Three years later my twin brothers Monty and George made their appearance, and I was a late and possibly surprise addition some years after them.

 

I was thoroughly spoiled by everyone – the only girl in the whole family!  My Mother and Grandmother could hardly wait for the time when I would be presented at court.  I came out   when I was seventeen, near the end of the second world war;  some people thought it was insensitive carrying on with Queen Charlotte’s Ball and the other social events, as so many people were homeless, widowed or wounded; but Grandmother insisted it was our patriotic duty to ‘fly the flag’, and ‘carry on as usual’. I admit I quite enjoyed that time; all the parties and balls of the Season, and the attention from the eligible bachelors of the day; at least, those who were left in town and were not wounded or still on Army duty.

 

Mother had already earmarked two or three ‘suitable’ young men; I was polite and went out once or twice with them; but what she didn’t know was that I had already met Jacob Strawinski, a lovely man who ran his family’s ironworks business; he was not able to join the Forces as metalwork was a reserved occupation, and the company was kept at full stretch making arms and munitions for the war effort.

 

When I showed no signs of accepting any of the offers a good year after I had come out, Mother got very impatient with me and accused me of being flighty. During a blazing row I blurted out that I was already in love.  This stopped her in her tracks and her smiles turned to horror when I told her who the lucky fellow was.

 

‘No no Lena, I forbid it!  He’s not our sort at all!  Whatever are you thinking of?’

 

 

 

‘If I can’t marry Jacob now I won’t marry anyone.  Anyway, I only have to wait until I’m 21 and I can do as I like!’

 

‘You just wait until your Father hears about this my lady!  He’ll soon change your mind!’

 

But to Mother’s dismay, Daddy was quite reasonable about it when I explained I had met Jacob at a concert well over a year ago, and we had been walking out ever since.  It was the first time I had ever heard him actually stand up to Mother. I can still hear him now:

 

‘Be quiet for a moment Elizabeth, I think we should at least meet the man before we criticise Lena’s choice.  After all, surely the main thing is she is happy?  After all. We’ve just been through a war, and the world is quite a different place now!’

 

Daddy liked Jacob from the day he met him, and though she never admitted it, even Mother was eventually won over by his old-fashioned manners – and his wealth of course.  We married in a civil ceremony (which further upset my Mother), for two reasons:  Jacob was of the Jewish persuasion; and I was already expecting a child.  I was devastated when I lost my little son David, born several weeks early; I have never told Sarah about him but I wish now that I had, so she could have known I understood the pain of losing a baby when she told us about Ruth! Jacob and I were so happy when our only child, our darling Sarah, was born a few years later. My parents doted on her too right from the day she was born, and Jacob was a lovely husband and loving Father until the day he died.

 

Life continued as expected; we did miss Sarah so when she went off on her travels and then  to Oxford; but our lives were turned upside-down when one day she revealed that she had given birth to a daughter whilst in Palestine, and she had been taken from her and brought up by her natural father.  It was heartbreaking to think of this Grandchild we might never meet, and unknown to me dear Jacob made enquiries, and tracked her down.  Of course, it was too late by then to do much about it; the child was already settled with her father and step-mother; but at least we had the comfort of knowing she was alive and well.

 

Sarah eventually married a nice young man called Martin, and had two children of her own.  Many years passed. Jacob lived to a fine old age, and it was soon after his death that Sarah received a letter from Ruth-Anne Thomas, her first child, who was still living in America.

 

She was so excited when Ruth-Anne agreed to pay us a visit, and we had all the family over to meet her. What a day that was!  And it was fun to see that Isla, Sarah’s little granddaughter, looked just like her Auntie Ruth!

 

 It was a very emotional day. So many questions! Sarah and Ruth got on well right from the start, and it was agreed she would stay for three weeks.   The time passed quickly, and her husband Danny joined her for the last week.  Such a lovely boy!  He was a bit quiet though, seemed to have something on his mind, but I imagine he just felt a bit shy and awkward.  It was a shame they had no children, they would have made lovely parents – but now at least they had a new neice and nephew.

 

We did all the usual family things; it was strange for me to accept that this was my Granddaughter, but she was a nice enough young woman, reminded me a little of myself actually.  We were all sad when they left, refusing Sarah’s offer to put them up for another week; Danny said he had work to do back home, and as Jacob would have said, business is business!  They agreed to keep in touch by email and that sky thing they do with the computers, such a clever invention! Sarah looked much more content after that, and I did so wish Jacob could have been there to see the reunion; but then maybe he was!

 

Then today I got this letter from my neice Margaret.  She has been living in America for many years now, and I had written to tell her all about Sarah’s newly-rediscovered family, so she knew all about Ruth and Danny.

 

‘Dear Aunt Lena,

 

I hope you are keeping well   There is no easy way to give you this news, so I won’t beat about the bush.

 

I had a call from Mervyn – that’s my eldest boy if you remember, he’s something in computers and travels all over the States  – he said he had seen something in a newspaper   that he thought might be about about Sarah’s Ruth.  I think you said her married name was Ruth-Anne Kaufmann Thomas?  If so, I am so sorry to have to tell you, Auntie, that Ruth-Anne and her husband Danny were found at their home suffering from gunshot wounds around a month ago………’

 

I put the letter aside and poured myself a glass of the gin and tonic.  No wonder Margaret wanted me to read it sitting down.

 

‘……..Danny is still in hospital and as far as I can ascertain has not regained consciousness.  Sadly, Ruth-Anne was pronounced dead at the scene. There is no apparent motive for the attack and there have been no arrests yet, but it seems a young dark-haired girl in jeans and carrying a backpack was seen in the area at the time, and police have appealed for her to come forward.  As soon as I have any more news I will let you know.  I have included my e-mail address, maybe you can pass this on to Sarah when you have given her the news, and I can get any new information to you all quickly. 

 

Tell Sarah we are so sorry for her loss, so soon after finding her daughter after all those years.   I’m sorry to be the bearer of such sad tidings, and send you lots of love and hugs.

 

Margaret.

 

Sarah was out with her Book Club friends when the post came, so I have had plenty of time to think.  And there is never going to be a good time to tell her; I shall just have to come right out with it, and maybe she can get in touch with Margaret to fill in the details. I think I’ll just get myself another G & T before she gets in, a bit of old-fashioned Dutch Courage.

Oh dear, too late – I hear her key in the lock now!