CHAPTER SIX

Death in the Family

Arthur Morel was growing up. He was a strong and careless boy, a lot like his father. He hated school and would always take the first chance to escape into the fields.

He was the most beautiful of all the children. Well made and full of life. As he grew older he developed a bad temper. He grew angry over nothing and seemed to be fighting something in himself. His mother, whom he loved, grew tired of him sometimes. He thought only of himself.

His father, whom he had loved and who had thought the world of him, he came to hate. So much so that when he was offered a place at the high school in Nottingham, his mother thought it would be best if he lived there.

Annie was still a teacher at the local school. She seemed happy in her work and always did what her mother wanted her to do.

Mrs Morel took most interest in Paul. He was still painting and his mother was still the center of his world. Everything he did was for her. She waited till he came home in the evening, and then she told him about all that had been on her mind during the day. He sat and listened carefully. They shared their lives.

William planned to marry the girl he had told his mother about in his letters. He wanted to bring the girl home to meet the family. Mrs Morel said they should come at Christmas. This time William arrived with the girl but no presents.

The girl was tall, beautiful and wearing very fine clothes. William introduced her as, 'Gyp.' Miss Western, for that was her real name, held out her hand to Mrs Morel and smiled.

"Pleased to meet you, Mrs Morel," she said.

"You must be hungry," said Mrs Morel.

"Oh, no, we had dinner on the train," she answered.

At that moment, Morel came home.

"Hello, father," said William.

"Hello, my son. What have we here?" asked Morel.

William introduced his beautiful girl to his father. She smiled and all could tell that Morel liked her. Miss Western changed for dinner and when she returned to the room, Morel jumped out of his chair to offer it to her.

"This chair is the warmest. Come and sit here, young Miss," he said.

"Thank you so much," the girl said, sitting down in the place of honor.

Miss Western played the upper-class lady at first—acting as if all the family were her servants. Only Morel didn't mind. He watched them go to church on Sunday dressed in their London clothes; he felt he was the father of a prince and princess.

Yet she was just acting this way; she was not the upper-class. For a year now she had been a secretary in a London office. After a day or two she started to change her ways. William always wanted Paul or Annie to come with them on their walks. He found it so much more interesting when they came along.

William seemed worried and troubled the whole time he was at home. All his strength and money went on keeping this girl. He didn't even have enough money left to take his mother to Nottingham for a day. When they returned to London, Mrs Morel said nothing, but inside she worried a lot about her son.

Paul's half-day off work was on Monday. On a Monday morning in May as they sat at breakfast, Mrs Morel suggested they take a trip to see her friend, Mrs Leivers, who lived on a farm near the town.

When he came home at lunchtime his mother was excited.

"Are we going?" he asked.

"I wouldn't miss it for anything!" she replied, as happy as a schoolgirl.

They went along under the trees that lined the road. He was always telling her about things of interest along the way, flowers, animals, and even places. They walked in the sun and were very happy together. Soon they found a little gate that lead to a path surrounded by flowers. At the end of the path was Mrs Leivers' farm.

On the front window of the farmhouse loaves of bread were cooling. Then suddenly a girl appeared at the front door. She was fourteen, had dark eyes and dark curly hair. As soon as she appeared she turned back inside. Then out came Mrs Leivers.

"Oh, you've come at last," she said.

The two women shook hands.

"You are sure we are not causing you any trouble?" asked Mrs Morel.

"Oh no," replied Mrs Leivers, "we are always happy to have visitors here."

They followed her inside. They sat down around the fireplace. The women were talking of old times, so Paul went into the garden to look at the flowers. The girl came out quickly to get something.

"I think these are roses," he said.

"I don't know," she replied.

"You don't have much in your garden," Paul said in a dreamy voice.

"This is our first year here," she answered, in a distant way.

Paul returned to have tea with his mother and Mrs Leivers. They spent a very enjoyable afternoon eating, talking, and being shown the farm. When it was time to go, Paul picked a large bunch of flowers for his mother. She smiled when he gave them to her.

Mr and Mrs Lei vers walked with them down the path towards home. The afternoon sun made everything around them golden.

"It is a beautiful place," said Mrs Morel.

She and Paul went on alone together. As they walked home the moon came out. Paul's heart was full of happiness and beauty.

William came home with his girl again in the summer. The weather was perfect for the whole week of their stay. Yet the weather did not improve William's state of mind. He still seemed to get angry with his girlfriend over affairs that did not seem important to the others in the family. He was fighting something in himself, and his mother knew it.

He tried to explain to her, how at times he hated the girl that would be his wife, but could not give her up.

"You know mother," he would say when they were alone together at night, "she has no idea of money and she's so stupid at times. And I think that we are going to be married next year."

"A bad marriage it would be, William. You should think again my son," his mother told him.

"It has gone too far, much too far," was all he could say.

After they had returned to London, William wrote many letters to his mother. In them, he seemed confused and lost. Sometimes he would write that he was the happiest he had ever been and other times he would tell of how miserable he was. He wanted to come home, but he could not get any more holidays. Then he was working more, to save money for the wedding. Every letter told of a new plan.

One Tuesday morning, a message came from London. William was very sick. Mrs Morel put on her best clothes, borrowed some money from a neighbor, and took the first train she could. It was six o'clock before she reached William's apartment. He was lying on the bed. His eyes red and his face washed of color. She could see that no one had been with him.

"My son!" she said, in as normal a voice as she could.

He did not answer. He looked at her but did not see her. The doctor came, he said it was pneumonia. Mrs Morel settled down to nurse her son. She prayed during the long night of his sickness. He became worse and worse, sweating and talking in his sleep. Then at two o'clock in the morning, he died.

Mrs Morel sat without moving for more than two hours. Then she had a message sent home.

"William died last night. Tell father to come with money."

Annie, Paul, and Arthur were at home, Mr Morel had gone to work. The three children did not say a word. Annie began to cry, and Paul went to get his father.

When Paul told his father what had happened, the words that came out of his mouth did not seem real. Morel could not understand. He could not believe his son was dead.

Morel went off, scared and confused, to help his wife. The children were left alone in the house. Paul went to work, Arthur went to school, and Annie stayed home and cried.

Mr and Mrs Morel returned on Saturday night. They both seemed to not notice what was going on around them. The family sat in the kitchen; no one knew what to do.

"The coffin will be here tonight, Walter. You should find some men to help," was all Mrs Morel could say.

Morel and Paul went into the front room to make space for the coffin.

At ten o'clock Morel called:

"He's here."

All the family was shocked out of their own sad thoughts.

Six men, all miners, came in carrying William's coffin. They walked slowly under the weight. The coffin was finally rested on some chairs in the front room. When the miners left, the family was left alone with the sad truth.

"Oh my son, my son," cried Mrs Morel.

Paul thought the coffin would forever be there in the house. He could not imagine this sorrow ever leaving.

They buried him on Monday. After the funeral, Mrs Morel seemed to lose all interest in life. Her only thought was that it should have been her dead, not her beautiful son.

When Paul came home from work at night, he found his mother sitting, her day's work done, staring into the distance.

She did not move and she didn't say anything. Paul tried to think of some news to tell her, but everything seemed so unimportant now. Finally he asked her:

"What's the matter, mother?"

She did not hear him. He asked again.

"You know what the matter is," she said angrily.

Paul did not know what to do. He worked extra hours, to be able to give her more money. He was becoming sick with tiredness and worry. Then, the day before Christmas, he became very sick.

Seeing her son this way made Mrs Morel come back to life. She sent for the doctor. He said it was pneumonia. She hated herself for letting Paul work himself into this state.

"I should have watched the living, not the dead," she told herself.

Paul was dangerously sick. His mother nursed him day and night. She was not going to lose another son. With all her love, she pulled him back from the edge of death. Slowly the boy began to improve. Her love had saved him.

Paul was in bed for seven weeks. He was weak for some time still but the danger had passed. He sat talking to his mother most of the day, happy to see her full of life again.

Years later Paul's aunt said:

"In some ways it was a good thing that Paul was sick that Christmas. I believe it saved his mother."

(end of section)