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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/908829
by jaya
Rated: E · Book · Educational · #2110197
A chain of vignettes.
#908829 added April 11, 2017 at 2:33am
Restrictions: None
A-11 Words-1100
I told them to pack summer clothes more than other things. Elizabeth town’s summer was pretty warm with high temperatures in summer months. Aunt Sarah had arrived with a bag of her own. She was known for her economy in handling anything. She spoke with care the few words she uttered and lived frugally with simple fare. She was a healthy person for she kept herself busy doing something or the other to improve the quality of her life. She kept her home clean with minimum furniture. She said she enjoyed a lot of free space to move about in the house. She had a diploma in piano playing and she took tuition for a limited number of piano hopefuls. When her husband deserted for a younger woman, aunt Sarah was pregnant with Jonathan. She had to face a lonely life even as young woman of twenty seven. She had no real means of earning livelihood to fend for herself and her unborn child. My mother and uncle John stood by her and they were the reason why she developed her talent for piano playing. As a daughter of a rich landlord while she was unmarried she showed inclination towards music and particularly to the piano. There was a beautiful pianoforte in the central hall at granddad’s big mansion. She learnt it from a renowned piano artist and put it to use whenever the occasion demanded. When there were parties held at her father’s house, it was aunt Sarah that the old gentleman depended on to organize music for the evening dancing. Oh, what a lovely time it was! I remember us children, were sent to bed as usual but the elders used to have fun and partying till late in the night. We used creep out of our bedroom to watch the party as it proceeded from dinner to dancing and then they used walk in the well lit garden for a breather of fresh air outside. Beautiful ladies in their best dresses and men in dignified attire were a pleasing sight to my childhood eyes. The banquet hall had a huge dining table that could seat twenty people comfortably. There were sumptuous delicious dishes served by liveried butlers. Dishes abounded from European to Chinese to American cuisine. Grandpa’s dinner parties were famous for variety and generosity.

It was at one of those parties that aunt Sarah met this stylish French man, named Francis and fell for him from the word go. He too seemed to have fallen in love with this shy young woman. Actually, as my mother informed me later on, that it was for her money and material wealth that Francis pretended to be in love with aunt Sarah. My grandfather didn’t much care for this guest whom one of his buddies brought along. Francis had shown some interest in piano playing and played a little of, what he picked up from school or somewhere. He courted her for a month and proposed to her. She was thrilled beyond words. For her life was like a picture book romance. Francis appeared like prince charming riding out of the blue to carry her off on the white steed into a world of love and joy. They came to the old gentleman seeking his permission for their marriage. Grandfather didn’t agree to their marriage. You see, he had both his feet planted firmly on ground and thought practically of single issue that came to his notice. He said they must wait till the older girl that was my mom was married. His idea was to make inquiries about this fashionable young man from Paris in the meanwhile. He wanted to see his little Sarah settle down to a decent and safe marriage. But, youth being foolhardy and love being blind, the love birds had flown the nest and found a new home in Paris. It was only after a month or two that aunt Sarah came awake to her cruel reality. Francis was a loafer and a Lothario. It was his profession to dupe young women of fair means into marital trap and then desert them once he got hold of their jewelry and money. He even manipulated one or two into signing documents attesting their house or assets to his name out of blind faith. Women, I observed were the most vulnerable part of the population when it came to love and trust, especially those who were brought up in a sheltered way. Aunt Sarah was one of those women with little knowledge of the cold and cruel male population. Exactly after a year and a half after they came to Paris, Francis took away aunt Sarah’s jewelry, some valuable household articles she brought with her and the money she carried with her, and left her without as much as a note or word. Of course, all men might not be that heartless. But one cannot rule out those whose eye was ever on easy money and easy women. Such men looked for the right chance and grab it to fulfill both these vices with ease. One shot and two birds to make their life comfortable and carefree.

So, aunt Sarah contacted my grandpa through good natured neighbors after she found out that Francis jilted her. As expected her father was furious and did not allow her to return to roots. He was quite unforgiving and did not relent for a long time. By then my mom was also married. My dad, Paul Mackenzie used to work as a draughtsman in the railways. He was known as a very decent and good hearted man. His colleagues and friends still remember his fun loving nature whenever I come across them. In the city where they settled, my mom and dad had built a beautiful home of their own. That is where we still lived. I was two years old when aunt Sarah came back from Paris. My mom and dad persuaded grandpa into letting Sarah back into the fold. Prior to that, she was the one who took the initiative to bring her sister Sarah from Paris, and sheltered her for nearly a year. She looked after her till Sarah gave birth to a baby boy.

After Jonathan was born, the ice started breaking with my grandpa. His own conscience must have prodded him not to leave his daughter as a penniless young mother to fend for herself and her infant son. So on fine day he had sent his car with his eldest son Rod to bring Sarah back to his home. She was overjoyed at unexpected
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/908829