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A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009
http://www.the-cbb.co.uk/viewtopic.php?f=14&t=5973

Author:  JellySheep [ 23 Apr 2009, 11:16 ]
Post subject:  A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

It was the Easter holidays, and the Herberts were partaking of afternoon tea. Bishop Herbert’s younger brother Alfred had come to visit, and the bishop’s residence was full of chatter as the four girls told him about their respective schools: Nan at the new Swiss Chalet School; Ruth, the youngest, at the equally new Glendower House; the twins, Madge and Bess, at the eighteen-month-old finishing branch. They vied with each other as they recounted their own and their schoolmates’ adventures and escapades and the drawing room rang with merry chatter and laughter. Later, this scene of animated conversation between members of a happy family was to stay sharp and poignant in their minds.
Uncle Alfred had arrived in a new and shiny sports car – as Bishop Herbert teased him, his new toy – and the girls had been much impressed, especially fourteen-year-old Ruth, whose fancy was easily taken by glamorous things. Alfred, keen to show it off, promptly offered a ride in the car, and, as it was a two-seater, the older girls said that Ruth should take this opportunity. Visibly excited, Ruth climbed into the passenger seat and waved enthusiastically to the others, standing on the steps. Nan rushed inside to her room, and, fishing her camera from a drawer, leaned out of the window to photograph her uncle and sister as they drove off.

Ruth was laughing at a joke by her uncle, oblivious to what was about to happen, when there was a sudden exclamation from Alfred as he tried desperately to get out of the path of a lorry which had come speeding out of a side road. The faces of both occupants of the sports car turned pale, and, in what seemed a sickeningly long moment outside time, Ruth tried to say some kind of prayer, but fear stopped her mouth. A moment later, the lorry crashed into the side of the car, and everything was a chaos of smashing, buckling and screaming. Then, as both vehicles slammed into the wall that ran alongside the road, suddenly there was nothing.

By six, Mrs. Herbert was becoming worried. Surely Alfred and Ruth ought to be back by now. She gave up trying to concentrate on the Cathedral flower rota and turned her attention to an effort not to panic. Just as it was becoming clear that this was not going to work, and the tide of terror washed over her, the doorbell rang, and, hoping against hope that she was about to be proved wrong, she went to answer it.
She knew what she was really going to see, the policeman with his helmet in his hands. She felt as if she were strangely detached from the scene, noticing how young the policeman was, how difficult he was obviously finding breaking the news. In this distant state of mind she invited the constable in and rang for tea. Then, as she went to find the various members of the family, the enormity of what she would have to tell them, the desolation about to be unleashed on them, shattering their innocent happiness, came at her like a flood and she had to steady herself with the banister.
“Matthew? I’m afraid there’s a constable downstairs. He has some bad news for us.” The bishop instinctively dropped to his knees, but words obviously failed him. He stood up slowly and reached out to his wife.
“My dear, tell me… it isn’t…” Mutely, Jane Herbert nodded, unable to speak, and they clung to each other like drowning sailors.
“Mummy, Daddy, what’s wrong?” Madge was alarmed by the scene on the landing: her parents were usually so calm; therefore something terrible must have happened. Seeing them like this shook her; nothing seemed quite so secure. Nan, followed by Bess, came running down the stairs at the sound of voices, and froze at the sight that met them. Sending up a desperate prayer for strength, Matthew Herbert gathered together his episcopal persona and shepherded his family downstairs to the waiting constable.

Author:  Sarah_G-G [ 23 Apr 2009, 11:47 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

How awful for them all! That was really poignant, thank you. Is there more to come..?

Author:  PaulineS [ 23 Apr 2009, 11:47 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Thank you for a new drabble.

Author:  Alison H [ 23 Apr 2009, 12:48 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

That's so sad :( .

Author:  Carys [ 23 Apr 2009, 14:15 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

:cry: How sad.

I hope you are going to write more.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ 23 Apr 2009, 16:26 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

That's so awful. You've given me goosebumps.

Thankyou.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ 24 Apr 2009, 01:12 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

That must have been so heartbreaking, to get that news

Author:  linda [ 25 Apr 2009, 02:11 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

So very sad. :cry: :cry:

Poor Ruth, how does a parent ever survive receiving that kind of news?

Author:  JS [ 25 Apr 2009, 08:11 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

How very sad - how awful that they saw it coming but couldn't do anything. Forgive my ignorance, but did this actually happen in the books?

Author:  Lesley [ 25 Apr 2009, 09:28 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

JS wrote:
How very sad - how awful that they saw it coming but couldn't do anything. Forgive my ignorance, but did this actually happen in the books?


It was referred to in the book - but seemingly almost in an off-hand way. I suspect it was a way EBD used to gloss over the fact she had made a mistake! :wink:

Author:  Bride [ 25 Apr 2009, 23:38 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Which book mentions this happening, please?

Very moving and well written piece.

Author:  JellySheep [ 27 Apr 2009, 10:10 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

The reference to this is in Richenda, but there isn't one at the actual time (which is odd), and calculating when it happened doesn't quite add up.
...
Mechanically Bishop and Mrs. Herbert passed round the cups of strong, sweet tea in which they had no interest. How could they want tea when something so terrible had happened? How could they be interested in anything? Madge, Bess and Nan could tell that something was badly wrong, but the policeman’s account of the accident was the kind of shock for which it was impossible to be prepared.
The hapless constable, unsure what to do, watched the reaction of the family. He saw the bishop tremble as he realised how powerless he was. Bess flinched as if she had been struck, while Madge and Nan burst into tears. Mrs. Herbert tried to rally herself, rustling up handkerchiefs, squeezing hands and pouring more tea. Awkwardly P.C. Dobson assured them that Ruth and Alfred had been killed instantly and had not suffered. This was the final straw for Jane Herbert, who swayed and fell, tea soaking into the carpet. The bishop tried to pull himself together and take charge, addressing the practicalities of what would have to be done. He rang the bell for Mrs. Pinker, the housekeeper, asking for smelling salts, and bent over his wife, speaking urgently, “Jane, Jane, my dear, I need you, wake up.” As Mrs. Herbert came to herself, she cried out as she remembered what had happened. The family rallied round, helping Mrs. Pinker to settle their mother on the sofa. Apologetically the policeman mentioned the practical things that would need doing, and the bishop realised that, although he wanted to sink into oblivion, this was not possible. Asking Mrs. Pinker to look after his remaining family, and promising to be back as quickly as possible, he embraced Jane, Madge, Bess and Nan and followed P.C. Dobson.
The next few days passed in a blur of pain and unreality. Nobody really knew what to do. The bishop arranged for his suffragan to take his place at Cathedral services, while the dean’s wife relieved Mrs. Herbert of her responsibilities. The family spent much of the day sitting in the drawing-room, sometimes silent, sometimes talking. Any other subject than Ruth, Alfred and the accident seemed impossible: nothing else seemed to matter, though Bess embroidered compulsively, because she felt that she must do something or go mad, however trivial the activity might seem. Nan, who was more inclined towards writing, poured her heart out into her diary.
Presently, arrangements for the double funeral had to be made. This was the hardest thing Bishop Herbert had ever done, but he felt he had to keep faith with his brother and daughter by officiating at the funeral himself, despite feeling that his heart would break. Besides the seeming impossibility of facing this, the bishop wrestled long with his conscience, knowing that his God required him to forgive the lorry driver, especially as the latter had paid with his life. But why, why, he cried out in his mind, had Ruth and Alfred had to pay too?

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ 27 Apr 2009, 10:25 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

This is brilliant - such a realistic portrayal of grief.

Thankyou.

Author:  PaulineS [ 27 Apr 2009, 12:41 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Thank you.

Author:  Lesley [ 27 Apr 2009, 18:49 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

:cry: :cry: :cry: :cry: :cry: :cry: :cry: :cry:


That poor family - just want to hug them all and make it better.


Thank you

Author:  Fiona Mc [ 27 Apr 2009, 23:46 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Thank you. It would be so hard for all of them

Author:  JellySheep [ 01 May 2009, 10:25 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

When the telephone rang at Glendower House, and Una Brackley put the call through to Dollie Edwards’s office, the headmistress had no idea what she was about to hear. As Jane Herbert, in a tight, strained voice drained of emotion, stated what had happened, Dollie was overcome by a wave of nausea. Though not a member of the family, she still saw the girls as, in a way, her children too. She felt cut to the heart by the sheer pointlessness of this waste of life, as she tried to say something comforting to Mrs. Herbert. She promised to get in touch with Ruth’s form-mistress and classmates and arrange for those who could to attend the funeral. As soon as Mrs. Herbert rang off, Dollie sat for a few moments battling the urge to be sick, then, with a great effort, she pulled herself together to make a long series of telephone calls.

If the past few days had seemed terrible to everyone involved, the funeral was unbearable. The bishop’s hands shook so much in the vestry that the dean had to help him robe, and, as they listened for the opening sentences, the Herberts feared that he was going to find it all too much and not be able to conduct the service. At last the words “I am the Resurrection and the Life” were heard, and the congregation, even the not especially sensitive Dawbarn twins, could sense the heartbreak in his voice. The bishop could not look at his family, as he knew that if he did, he would break down, and he tried to detach himself in order to get through the service. Once he had begun, the familiarity of the liturgy carried a certain momentum.
The Herberts found the service passed in a kind of sharp hyper-reality, yet they could not quite believe that Ruth and Alfred were really inside those coffins. Mechanically they knelt for the prayers. Singing the hymns was a source of relief, as they were able to channel their cries of grief into it.
As Bishop Herbert ascended the pulpit to address the congregation, the tension in the cathedral was palpable. Most of them wondered how he could possibly bear this. Matthew Herbert was visibly shaking, and stood holding the edge of the pulpit. He had written his sermon out word for word, as he knew he would find it impossible to speak even from notes. First he told the congregation about his brother and daughter, stories old and new, and then described how carefree the pair had been as they set off for that fateful drive.
“I am finding it nigh impossible” he continued, “to believe, let alone to offer, the Church’s platitudes to the bereaved. What can possibly be said? I know that we are promised that the faithful will join God in heaven, that they will enjoy the eternal life of the blessed, and that we should rejoice and be thankful for that – but I cannot help protesting that they should have been able to enjoy life in its fullness beforehand. I cannot help crying out to God for my own loss, for the death of one’s own child is one of the most terrible griefs. I find myself asking God how He could have let this happen, and the only answer that lets me believe in a benevolent God is that God does not interfere in these incidents. As someone said when asked where God was in Auschwitz, I can only believe that God suffers and grieves with us and will surround us with His love. This belief is what has sustained me this week, and my hope is that it will be with every one of us in the coming days and years, even though it is terribly hard to feel anything but broken and abandoned. If we reach out to one another in compassion, we will see God at work, God finding a way to bring something good out of a senseless tragedy. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, amen.” He turned, and nearly toppled down the stairs to the pulpit.
Rain was falling as the congregation made their way to the cemetery. Nan wanted to run until she was far away and worn out, to scream until she was hoarse, but something inside restrained her. She could hear Madge muttering to herself “I am not a spineless jellyfish” over and over again, and the incongruity of the phrase made her almost burst out laughing. Once the graves had been filled, she felt she could not turn away and leave the cemetery, as that would abandon her sister in this place of the dead.

Author:  Liz K [ 01 May 2009, 11:07 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

JellySheep wrote:
Nan wanted to run until she was far away and worn out, to scream until she was hoarse, but something inside restrained her. She could hear Madge muttering to herself “I am not a spineless jellyfish” over and over again, and the incongruity of the phrase made her almost burst out laughing. Once the graves had been filled, she felt she could not turn away and leave the cemetery, as that would abandon her sister in this place of the dead.


I remember when Dad died, a couple of hours after the undertakers had taken him, I kept thinking to myself "any minute now, Dad's going to come down those stairs, walk in here (the lounge), take one look at us and say 'what on earth's the matter with you lot, look at me, there's nothing wrong with me, I'm fine'" but it never happened.

Author:  PaulineS [ 01 May 2009, 19:57 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Quote:
As someone said when asked where God was in Auschwitz, I can only believe that God suffers and grieves with us and will surround us with His love. This belief is what has sustained me this week, and my hope is that it will be with every one of us in the coming days and years, even though it is terribly hard to feel anything but broken and abandoned.


The Chinese say that a parent should not bury a child. Another adult should do so on their behalf. Bishop Herbert was amazing there in his ability to perform the service.

Author:  Carys [ 03 May 2009, 10:35 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

:cry: So sad.

Author:  Cath V-P [ 04 May 2009, 01:34 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

This is so accurately and sensitively portrayed - that constant sense of unreality combined with the sharp pain that it is all too true....

Thank you.

Author:  JellySheep [ 05 May 2009, 10:16 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

The three Herbert girls were unsure whether they wanted to return to school. It would be difficult facing the rigours of classwork and the boisterous atmosphere of free time; though perhaps it would be good to have something on which to concentrate their minds, they were unsure how well they would be able to do this, and the jollity of the school’s leisure activities would form a sharp contrast with how they felt. Besides, it would be a wrench to be separated from their parents, both in terms of the comfort they gained from them and the fact that both sides would worry about the other if separated. Letters just weren’t quite enough. However, the world the three inhabited centred around school and they never seriously considered asking to remain behind: this simply did not seem a possibility.
Bishop and Mrs. Herbert felt much the same. It might have been different if the school had been nearby, but Switzerland might as well have been the moon. However, they knew that they could not keep the girls at home for ever, that they would have to re-engage with life at some point, and the later it was left the harder it would be. They were most worried about Nan: Madge and Bess would be together at Welsen, so they would be able to support one another, but Nan would be on her own, and among younger girls who were less likely to understand. However, Nan in particular needed to return, in order to finish her education. The older pair could have left, or spent a term at home, but having them at Welsen would mean that Nan would have their presence relatively nearby to help her along. So it was that, with heavy hearts, the bishop and his wife prepared for the new term. Mrs. Herbert wished she need not let her remaining daughters out of her sight, so that she could protect them from danger, but, as she reasoned with herself, Ruth had been killed while holidaying at home, so keeping the three close by was no guarantee of their safety.

The day had arrived and the Herberts set off for London on the train. Though Madge and Bess were quite competent to manage the journey and Nan was old enough to behave responsibly, none of the family wanted to say goodbye until they absolutely had to. That morning over breakfast, the atmosphere was very tense. Nan felt that she was stretched taut as a bowstring, on the edge of tears, but knew she had to try not to show it unless it caused the family’s fragile façade of normality to break down. Bess was worried about her parents and how they would manage. Would they be frank in letters, or would they try to keep up an appearance of cheerfulness? She wondered what it would be like to meet them again in three months’ time: she and they might be very different, their paths might have diverged.
As they sat together in the train, they tried to talk, but the strain of the situation chased away any inspiration for conversation subjects and several times they lapsed into silence. They could not decide whether to make the most of what time remained to them or to want to get the moment of parting over with. All too soon, the train was pulling in to its destination and the five Herberts had to gather their belongings and make their way to Waterloo to meet the rest of the school party.
When they reached the platform from which the boat train would leave, they were overwhelmed by the noise level. Surely the school had not been so loud last term? Biddy O’Ryan spotted the hesitant family and hurried over.
“Your Excellency, Mrs. Herbert, Bess, Madge, Nan. I was so sorry to hear about your loss. We all are. Miss Annersley wrote to Nan’s form so as to avoid having them upset her by accident, so we can be reasonably hopeful that they will be understanding. I’ve warned them myself not to be too boisterous on the journey. Now, we’ve five minutes before we need to be getting on the train, so you’ve got time to say your farewells while I keep the mob from disturbing you.”
Those goodbyes were never going to be easy. Words somehow seemed inadequate, and the Herberts, not usually particularly demonstrative, would have felt embarrassed indulging in copious embraces in public. Eventually they settled for a hug each and a blessing from their father, then, when the girls were shepherded onto the train, both daughters and parents stared wistfully at each other until the train went out of sight, and the bishop and his wife turned and headed resignedly for the Tube, Bishop Herbert’s arm around his wife’s shoulders.

Author:  PaulineS [ 05 May 2009, 10:22 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Biddy and Hilda show understanding there ib preparing Nan's form. Thanks for the update.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ 05 May 2009, 10:28 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

So sad. I only hope that they can all cope at school - it seems a shame that they couldn't have sent Nan, at least, to the English branch, if only for one term.

Thankyou.

Author:  Lesley [ 05 May 2009, 18:47 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

So sad for all of them - hope Nan's form are understanding.


Thanks JellySheep

Author:  Fiona Mc [ 06 May 2009, 09:08 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

It's so sad but I'm sure being with their friends will also help

Author:  JellySheep [ 08 May 2009, 11:34 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

I think they didn't want to shake things up even more for Nan by changing her school circumstances on top of everything else.

In the Fifth forms’ carriage, once Nan had stepped back from the window and sat down, there was an awkward silence, as nobody knew what to say. Asking anybody in front of Nan if they had had decent holidays seemed grossly insensitive, so the subject was left firmly alone and the form made determined conversation about what the new term would bring. Nan spoke little: all this talk of tennis, cricket and gardening seemed like another language. She retreated behind a magazine and let the conversation pass her by.
Eventually, Blossom Willoughby spoke up. “I say, Nan, we’re all frightfully sorry to hear about Ruth. Let us know if there’s anything we can do, won’t you?”
“Th-thanks.”
“You can have the corner seat if you want to be by yourself for a bit” contributed Katherine Gordon. “I can only speak for myself of course, but we can try to be quiet – though I don’t know how much success some people will have!”
“That meant for me?” returned Blossom, a hideous grimace transforming her usually beautiful features. She seemed about to start sparring with Katherine, then visibly made an effort to restrain herself and be quiet. Nan half-smiled and made herself comfortable on the corner seat. For now it was enough of an effort to be in the same carriage as all this chatter and light-heartedness. Joining in with it must wait until later.

It was the first day of the summer term at Glendower House, and many of the girls could not believe the rumours that were flying around.
“Ruth Herbert – killed? Dead? Surely you can’t be serious?”
“No, it’s true. I couldn’t believe it either, but the Dawbarns went to the funeral and everything. It just seems like a bad dream.”
The whole school seemed to be walking around in a daze, both pupils and staff. As soon as everyone had gathered for tea, Miss Edwards rang her bell and got up to speak.
“Girls, welcome back. I think that you have probably already heard what I am about to tell you, but I will say it to make sure that the version you have is correct. One of our pupils, Ruth Herbert of Upper IV, has been killed in a road accident.” There were a few gasps among those who had somehow not heard. “This is nothing short of a tragedy. Everyone who remembers Ruth will know what she was like and will feel with me a deep sense of loss. We will have special prayers in Ruth’s memory this evening, and we will be making a memorial collection. We will also forward any letters you may want to send to the Herberts. Do remember that, if you need to talk to someone, the staff and prefects are all here for you, though we do not claim to have all the answers. Don’t feel that you have to keep things bottled up, even if they seem insignificant. However, we do also need to keep going, to keep living, as Ruth would not have wanted our grief to paralyse us. In being as cheerful as we can – and I don’t mean pretending when we feel sad – we can offer our thanks for Ruth’s life. The Chalet School prides itself on turning out strong women, so let’s all stick together and try to be as brave as possible as we deal with this, so that Ruth would be proud of us all.”
It has to be recorded that not very much was eaten at tea, but Matron Gould decided that, just this once, it was best not to insist on empty plates, and the School made its rather subdued way upstairs to unpack, a comfortingly familiar chore which kept them from brooding.
That night, Matron was wakened by a muffled scream. Feeling that this was really not the time for fun and games, she donned dressing-gown and slippers and set off to investigate. She tracked the sounds to the headmistress’s bedroom, where she knocked and went in, to find Dollie Edwards huddled in a corner of her bed, her face in her hands. Though it went against the usual Chalet rule, Matron sat down on the bed beside Dollie, prised her hands away, and asked what was wrong.
“It’s so stupid!” lamented the headmistress. “I was dreaming of the bus crash, years ago. We thought we were all going to die. I suppose this has stirred it all up – I hadn’t really thought of it for ages. It seems so selfish to be thinking of that: after all, we got out of it alive, and poor Ruth didn’t. I can’t help imagining it, and it’s none of my business to!”
“I wouldn’t worry about that” reassured Matron Gould. “Minds are funny things, and they don’t seem to be under our control a lot of the time. Especially dreams! If I were responsible for the content of mine, and if people knew, goodness knows what they’d think. As it is, it’s just that your memories have been stirred up. I’m going to make you some hot milk with brandy, and stay by you until you drop off again, and in the meantime you’re not to berate yourself about it. Matron Gould has spoken!”

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ 08 May 2009, 11:46 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Quote:
If I were responsible for the content of mine, and if people knew, goodness knows what they’d think
- which Doctor does Matron like?

Thankyou, this is so realistic and so heartbreaking.

Author:  PaulineS [ 08 May 2009, 14:03 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Poor Dolly having a nightmare about the bus crash.

Love the idea of Blossom trying to be quiet!

Thanks for the update.

Author:  MaryR [ 08 May 2009, 15:26 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Everyone scared to say anything in case it's the wrong thing - and Dollie reverting back in her dreams.... In such ways does tragedy touch us all. But we can move on, whereas for people like the Herberts, all they want is for time to stand still and not move on without their loved one.

Thanks, Jellysheep.

Author:  Alison H [ 08 May 2009, 22:08 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

It's so hard to know what to say after a tragedy :cry: .

Author:  Fiona Mc [ 09 May 2009, 04:47 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

It's hard to know what to say, but sometimes seeing the normalacy going on around you actually helps, even though other times it doesn't. The girls are so lovely for trying.

Poor Dollie. I had forgotten it might remind her of her own accident

Author:  wheelchairprincess [ 13 May 2009, 20:29 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Just read all of this. Saying it's really good isn't really what I mean but it's the best I've got. I like the realism painful as it is. Thanks Jellysheep

Author:  Luisa [ 13 May 2009, 22:47 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

Spot on - and a great deal more sensitive that most schools would have been under the circumstances.
Thanks Jellysheep

Author:  Cath V-P [ 15 May 2009, 07:26 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

This is very moving in the way it shows how an event like this affects so many people.

Thank you.

Author:  JellySheep [ 15 May 2009, 14:23 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy

I hadn't thought of Matron Gould dreaming of doctors! Plausible though...

Getting used to being at school was less daunting than Nan had anticipated. The routine gave a certain momentum, and there was little time for sadness except during the rest period. This was something which Nan came to dread, determinedly concentrating on a book to try and prevent sorrow taking over. She had never been a particularly frivolous or boisterous character, so those around her did not notice a major change, though she seemed less inclined to smile or laugh than previously. The staff had not needed to be lenient with her, as her work was not suffering, but a careful eye was being kept on her by the mistresses and ‘Matey’.
It was a small incident which caused the damage, mainly by its unexpectedness. Having been to explore the Auberge and its environs with her form, Nan had taken her camera and snapped her friends in various locations, finishing the film. She asked Miss Moore, who was going down to Interlaken the following Saturday, if she would take her film to the chemist’s to be developed. She had almost forgotten about it when, a week later, Miss O’Ryan brought it to her after a trip of her own to the town. Eagerly she tore open the envelope of pictures, and then stopped dead.
“Nan! What’s the matter?” exclaimed Betsy Lucy. Mutely Nan handed her the bundle of photographs, and Betsy saw immediately why Nan had reacted as she had. On the top of the pile was a picture of Ruth and Alfred Herbert waving from a smart sports car. Betsy put the photographs down on the common-room table, and, putting an arm around Nan, led her over to the sofa, beckoning to Katherine as she did so.
“Katt, Nan’s had a bit of a shock. Do you think you could go and find Matey?”
Katherine needed no second telling, and sped off at the full pace of long legs, soon returning with the school’s domestic tyrant in tow. That lady bade Katherine excuse Nan from the afternoon’s ramble, and led Nan away, via the kitchen for some lemonade, to a quiet corner of the garden to collect her thoughts, while Matey simultaneously kept watch and knitted, hoping that her seeming occupied might make Nan feel less as if under a microscope. It took some time before Nan’s glassy calm broke and she began to cry, a little at first, then shaking with sobs. Matey didn’t try to get Nan to talk, as she could see that conversation was beyond her at the moment. Instead she put her hand over Nan’s and said “It will probably be good for you to get all this outside you, and then you can go and have a sleep. You’ll probably feel the better for it. When you’re safely in bed, I’ll phone up Miss Wilson and see when Bess and Madge can come and visit you. They’ll probably do you more good than any of us.”
This proved to be the case. When her sisters arrived the following day, none of the three spoke very much, but their presence seemed a great source of comfort to Nan. Everybody at the school was being so good to her, but they could not really understand in the same way.

Author:  Liz K [ 15 May 2009, 14:44 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 15.v.2009

:cry: Poor Nan, you never know what's going to set you off, do you?

Author:  Carys [ 15 May 2009, 16:27 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 15.v.2009

What a horrible shock for Nan? :cry:

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ 15 May 2009, 16:38 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 15.v.2009

Oh, poor Nan :cry: But in time pictures - any pictures - of a lost loved one can become comforting, so maybe one day she will be cheered by having that picture.

Thankyou

Author:  Sarah_K [ 15 May 2009, 23:22 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 15.v.2009

Poor Nan, I'm not surprised that upset her. I'm glad her friends and the school are being as kind to her as they can and giving her space to grieve.

Author:  Lesley [ 16 May 2009, 06:22 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 15.v.2009

((((Nan))))

And at least she was not told to keep a 'stiff upper lip'. The CS is being very understanding here.


Thanks

Author:  Fiona Mc [ 16 May 2009, 11:20 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 15.v.2009

Matey was so lovely there, as was Betsy and Katherine

Author:  JellySheep [ 27 May 2009, 10:42 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 15.v.2009

After Bess and Madge’s visit, Nan rejoined her form, who were spending the Sunday afternoon in various unstrenuous ways.
“You know, Nan” mused Betsy, “I think we ought to do something to commemorate Ruth somehow.” A shadow flitted over Nan’s face, then she pulled herself together and addressed the matter.
“I’d like that. I’d like to be able to do something for Ruth, so that we don’t forget her.”
“In an odd way, I don’t think we will anyway, those of us who knew her. I think we’ll remember her even when we’ve forgotten people we just knew slightly at school. She’ll always be fourteen to us, but the memory will always be bright and fresh. Anyway, what shall we do? I thought you could write a piece about her for the Chaletian, something that could go in both our version and the Carnbach one. I suppose if we’re going to have a memorial or something, there’s the question of where it would go. She never came here, so maybe it should be at Carnbach, but maybe it would be better for you if it were here?”
“I don’t know about memorials and things - they seem rather cold somehow. I’d really like something that people would enjoy.”
“Or what about the San? Something that would help sick children get better so they don’t die?”
Nan nodded slowly. “You might be on to something there. Do you think we could write to your Uncle Jack and ask him what might be a good idea, and how much we’d need to raise?”
“There’s the proceeds from next year’s nativity play and the Sale. Could we add whatever we can to that and ask Uncle Jack if they could call whatever they use the money for after Ruth?” Nan rummaged in the cupboard for some paper and together they drafted a letter. As other members of the form came in and asked what they were doing, they began to chip in ideas, both for the letter and raising money.
Nan was still turning ideas over in her head during Kaffee und Kuchen, when something coalesced. “What about having a school picnic on Ruth’s birthday? We could ask everyone to contribute, and we could – could celebrate Ruth’s life by doing something fun.”
Betsy developed the plan further. “What if we had an annual event to do that for all the Chalet people who’ve died? I mean, there are quite a few who died in the war, one way and another. I know we didn’t know them, but some of the mistresses did, and Mrs. Maynard. We could get them to tell us about them, and we could have some prayers, and drink to them.”
“I suppose it’s an advantage of not being a really old school that we haven’t had that many people die, or not yet” mused Katherine. “I mean, it must be quite sad when you’re at one of the public schools and deaths keep being announced, even if they are of people your grandfather’s age.”
“It must have been so much worse in wartime” contributed Sybil Russell soberly. “From what I’ve heard, especially in the First World War, when boys were going straight from school, they were people who’d been playing cricket with you the previous term, and there were so many of them killed. I remember Uncle Dick mentioned it once, and it really stood out how it had affected him, because he’s usually so cheerful and – well, happy-go-lucky, I suppose.”
“Come on, you lot!” broke in Betsy’s sister Julie, who was on duty. “Everybody else is clearing away and you haven’t even begun. What on earth are you looking so solemn about?” They promptly became very busy stacking plates and collecting receptacles for milk, butter and jam, and the subject was momentarily shelved. The next day, however, a deputation was formed to solicit the headmistress’s opinion on the proposed annual picnic.
Miss Annersley had always reserved two hours in the evening for her pupils to come and speak to her if they felt it necessary, and, though this did not happen with great frequency, the girls found the knowledge of this possibility open to them helpful. On this evening, she was congratulating herself on having just finished her correspondence when there was a tap at the door, and, in answer to her ‘Entrez!’ the group of fifth formers came in.
The necessity of speaking French made them somewhat less eloquent than they might otherwise have been, but, all the same, the suggestion was clear enough. Miss Annersley told them straight away that she would give her approval to the scheme and arrange for the picnic to take place on Ruth’s birthday.
“I am glad that there are people among us who are thoughtful enough to suggest we remember those who have left us. Though the school has grown much larger since our beginnings, I would like to think that we still have the same spirit of thinking of each other as members of a family, seeing ourselves as bound together by the school, even to those whom we do not know well or may never have met. I am delighted that you are suggesting this event, though I would rather it were in happier circumstances. Perhaps we could build on your idea, and, as well as the current girls and staff, invite former members to join us, or, if they cannot, then send messages to be read out.” The conversation then turned to the practical details of the picnic and how it was to fit into the term.
As the discussion came to a close and the girls, bobbing regulation curtsies, made to leave, the headmistress asked Nan to wait.
“Nan, I’m very pleased to see you turning what must be a terrible sorrow into something so positive. I think this plan strikes an excellent balance between remembrance and the affirmation of life, and not many girls your age would have thought of it. I’m also heartened that you are acknowledging the other Chaletians who have died; it is very selfless of you not to focus exclusively on Ruth.”
Nan went red. “That wasn’t actually my idea, Miss Annersley. Betsy thought of that.”
“Still, you supported it, and now you’re being very scrupulous in not taking the credit. I think that your parents will be very proud of you when they hear about this – I certainly am. When I next speak to Miss Edwards, I am going to suggest that Glendower House might like to do something similar, assuming that they haven’t already thought of it too!”

Author:  PaulineS [ 27 May 2009, 11:38 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 15.v.2009

Thank you Jellysheep. That is a lovely idea to celebrate Ruth's life.

Author:  leahbelle [ 27 May 2009, 17:07 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

How lovely that they're celebrating not only Ruth's life, but the lives of other Chaletians. Thanks.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ 27 May 2009, 18:22 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

It fits so much into the CS spirit. Thankyou, this is wonderful!

Author:  Sarah_K [ 27 May 2009, 23:49 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

What a beautiful idea, and very brave of Nan to talk about it and take part when it's all so fresh for her.

Author:  Cath V-P [ 28 May 2009, 12:39 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

That was a lovely idea, and so thoughtfully developed.

Author:  JellySheep [ 04 Jun 2009, 09:57 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 4.vi.2009 - complete

It was the twentieth of June, high summer. Examinations had ended the day before, and the school were prepared to enjoy their freedom. The more thoughtful girls, remembering the reason behind the grand picnic, were quieter than their classmates. One way and another, the school were little inclined to concentrate in morning lessons, their thoughts wandering to fun or to mourning, and some oscillating between the two, feeling guilty at thinking of this as an enjoyable occasion. Eventually schoolwork was put aside in favour of Mittagessen and the mandatory rest, and then girls and mistresses collected picnic baskets, flasks and shady hats before setting off. It had been arranged with a farmer on the next shelf that the picnic should take place in his meadow, and the school set off up the mountain path, the sun shining down on them.
Once they had arrived and established themselves in the meadow, there were a few games to help develop their appetites for the picnic. Then Miss Annersley bade the mistresses gather their charges and get them to sit down facing her.
“Before we enjoy such delights as Karen has prepared for us, I want us to remember why we are here. We have gathered today to remember those Chaletians who have died, from illness, accident or the malevolence of others. It is right for us to enjoy this day, our picnic and each other’s company. We should give thanks that we are alive to enjoy it, and give thanks for all those who have gone on before us, that they too were able to feel the warmth of the sun and be happy among friends. We should be grateful for all that they gave us, and hope that we may follow their example. Above all, we must never forget them, for those whom we love are always with us as long as we remember them. We can be confident that they have gone to be with God in Heaven, but we should also think of those who have been left behind and whose loss can never quite heal in this world.
Miss Wilson, Mademoiselle, Miss Denny, Mrs. Maynard and I will tell you about some of the Chaletians who died during the war, and then Nan, Bess and Madge Herbert will say something about their sister Ruth, who was tragically killed in a road accident during the Easter holidays.
First of all, Mademoiselle de Lachenais will tell us about our second headmistress, Mademoiselle Lepattre.”
Some of those present had heard some of these stories before, but this time they seemed to have an extra poignancy, especially those such as the life of Luigia di Farrara, a nun who had died in a Nazi concentration camp. While the stories were being told, there were none of the usual little sounds heard in assembly, as everybody was listening too intently to fidget.
As Mademoiselle finished telling the assembled school about Jeanne le Cadoulec, Miss Annersley asked the Herbert girls to join the five women at the front.
It was difficult enough to stand up and address the whole school under normal circumstances, let alone when all the sorrow you usually tried to keep down had been stirred up. Still, the three thought, surreptitiously squeezing each other’s hands, at least it was a bit easier with the three of them.
Bess began, her voice wobbling at first and her nails digging into the palms of her hands. “Many of you will remember our sister Ruth from St. Briavel’s, but for those of you who’ve joined the school this year, I’ll tell you a bit about her. Ruth would have been fifteen today, and would have come out to Switzerland next term. She was always full of life and enthusiasm, eager for new adventures, and she was looking forward to joining us here. She always liked to try things out, which was why she was so excited about going for that spin in Uncle Alfred’s new car.” Bess’s voice shook, and Madge took over.
“Ruth was always fun and playful when we were children. Though she was the youngest of us four, she never wanted to be left out of games, and if we did, she would make up one of her own. She was a cheerful kid, and if one of us was feeling sad about something, she’d give us her cake at tea. She was terribly insistent though – if she wanted to know why something was as it was, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She was energetic and enjoyed playing games outdoors and doing gym. She was always good about sharing things with us, and never seemed to mind being the youngest, not getting her way as often as we did, though she did try to persuade Mother out of making her go to bed earlier, because she was always doing something and didn’t feel tired. She did well at school, though her reports always said that she ought to talk less.”
Nan spoke up next. “It was a lovely day when she and Uncle Alfred went out for that drive. When they set off she looked as if she hadn’t a care in the world. The policeman said that a lorry came out of a side road into them and crushed the car against a wall. We were told that it was quick, but the moment when they saw the lorry bearing down on them must have been horrible. Still, in our minds we see her as she was when they set out, smiling and waving and excited. She’ll always be a happy fourteen-year-old to us, though we wish she could have had the chance to grow up and live a full life, and we miss her terribly. But we know she wouldn’t want us to be miserable, so we must try to be happy when we remember her and be glad she was with us, even if it wasn’t for as long as we would have liked. So while we’re enjoying the picnic, we’re doing it for her, because it’s something she would have enjoyed too. We’ve also been in touch with the San and they’re going to name one of the beds in the children’s ward after Ruth, and we’re going to fund it from the Sale and the Christmas play and any other money we can collect, so that we can turn remembering Ruth into something that will help give someone life and health.”
Nan was trembling as she finished speaking, and, as Miss Annersley took over to say some short prayers, the three sat down and did their best to comfort one another. Then the mistresses began to dispense the picnic. The three Herberts in particular had little appetite for food, though they did their best to savour the food for Ruth’s sake. Many of the girls were much quieter than usual, though the walk up the mountain and the fresh air had made them hungry. As the eating part of the picnic began to slow down, Miss Annersley stood up again, her beaker of lemonade in her hand.
“Girls, make sure that you have something in your glasses. Let us drink a toast to the memory of all those Chaletians who have gone on before us. May we never forget them, and let us hope to meet them again some day.” The school scrambled to its collective feet, raised its glasses, and, words jumbling together, drank.
“And let us also drink to our fellowship as Chaletians: however much we may grow, or however scattered we may become, we are as a family. We will rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. I would like to thank Nan, Bess and Madge Herbert for their part in instituting this memorial picnic, and for their courage in speaking to us today. Let us drink to all four Herberts: Bess, Madge, Nan and Ruth.”
Having drunk the toast, the school broke into spontaneous applause. Bess, Madge and Nan felt on the verge of tears. It had been an emotional afternoon already, and now, on top of their sorrow, they felt bowled over by the appreciation being shown to them. Habitually modest girls, it was something they had not expected. As the school began to pack up the picnic baskets in preparation for returning to the Goernetz Platz, the three Herberts felt a deep sense of satisfaction with the afternoon. Ruth, they thought, would be pleased.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ 04 Jun 2009, 10:04 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

Thankyou for such a moving update, that was so poignant and beautiful.

Author:  abbeybufo [ 04 Jun 2009, 11:22 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

Lovely JellySheep, thank you :D

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ 04 Jun 2009, 13:23 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

That was an extremely moving piece, very well told - I felt present at the gathering as I read. Thank you, Jelly Sheep.

Author:  PaulineS [ 04 Jun 2009, 20:57 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

Thank you Jelly Sheep. I have tears in my eyes, it was so moving.

Author:  Chris S [ 13 Jun 2009, 15:58 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

Thank you JellySheep. I felt that I was there with them raising my glass to the fellowship of Chaletians. Very moving.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ 14 Jun 2009, 07:20 ]
Post subject:  Re: A Chalet tragedy 27.v.2009

Thanks, that was amazing

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