Date: Tue, 27 Jul 1999 00:19:56 +0900
From: Andrej Koymasky <andrejkoymasky@geocities.com>
Subject: Nunc Dimittis 5

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NUNC DIMITTIS
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 1998
Written on May 8th, 1985
translated by the author
English text kindly revised
by Antonio


-----------------------------

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"NUNC DIMITTIS" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic
scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family,
opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to
read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or
because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed
guest.

-----------------------------

CHAPTER FIVE

Thanks to an article I wrote about the Sudetenland question, in the
Summer of that year I was hired as journalist at the Daily Express. I
was twenty-three years old. When the Munich Conference was convened
between Lord Chamberlain, Daladier, Hitler and Mussolini, I received my
first assignment as a foreign correspondent. I accompanied an older
colleague, much more experienced than I, but that was the real beginning
of my journalistic career.

So, on September 29th we departed for Germany from Heston Aerodrome, on
the same flight as Lord Chamberlain. We landed at 11:57.

Lord Chamberlain was greeted at the airport by von Ribbentrop. The
conference started at 13:30. At 16:00 Masaryk came with a message for
Daladier from Czechoslovakia. While my colleague stayed to follow the
conference, I managed to get an interview with Masaryk. Once back at the
Konigin Hotel where we were quartered, at 18:30 I listened to the Pope's
address urging peace.

I didn't share the wave of support for Mussolini that was sweeping
England because of his position on the Sudetenland question; to me he
had been and remained a dictator. But in my articles I had to try to
overcome my personal problems and sentiments: I had to remain as
balanced and objective as possible. So, whenever I could, I tried to
ignore the fascism and his Duce.

These were grave times, a fact that I was all too well aware of through
my work. But, thanks to Ben, I also enjoyed happy hours when I was able
to cut myself off from the rest of the world.

My knowledge of languages, in which I never ceased to train, often gave
me the opportunity of foreign assignments. They were brief absences,
more than made up for by the periods I was afterwards able spend with my
Ben.

By that time I had moved into our apartment in Cadogan Lane. Ben too
spent whole days there; he spent more time in our apartment than in his
own Palace.

When I asked him if his mother didn't find it strange that he was so
seldom at home, his answer was: "No, she thinks it's only logical."

"Logical? I don't understand..."

That was how I came to learn that his mother knew all about us, about
our relationship. I was amazed. I asked him: "But... doesn't she mind?
She welcomed me into your home without..."

"My mother has known about me and my preferences for years. And she
knows that I'm in love with you; she knew before I found the courage to
tell you. She holds you in high regard, she knows I'm happy with you and
she is happy for me. Therefore, she found it logical that I spend almost
all my time here with you."

"If my family were only to guess about us... they'd certainly do
everything they could to separate us."

"I can imagine. I know I'm extraordinarily lucky. It is unusual, or
rather, it's extremely uncommon. Now if my father was alive, for
instance, he wouldn't be able to understand and would definitely be
against it. Even my brothers suspect nothing. But my mother's only
concern is my happiness, and she knows that you are my happiness."

This revelation pleased me on the one hand, but on the other, I was now
embarrassed towards Ben's mother, so, unconsciously, I started to avoid
going to C** Palace.

Ben noticed this and told me it was silly of me to behave like that:
"You are welcome, and moreover, my mother has grown fond of you, I
assure you. Only last week for that matter, you know, when we sulked and
there was tension between us... Well, my mother asked me what had
happened, so I explained. Well then she took your side and told me I had
to apologise to you and cherish you lovingly. 'Don't make that dear boy
suffer, he doesn't deserve it,' she said to me."

"Honestly?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"No, never."

"So?"

So I tried once more to get used to meeting his family. I noticed that
his mother always treated me with extreme naturalness and simplicity, as
if I really were a member of the family. But it was not until much later
that I had the greatest proof of that splendid Lady's sentiments towards
me.

Ben and I often went riding, and thanks to his coaching I soon became a
fair rider, even if never in the same class as him.

In February 1939 The Times invited me to join its staff, with a
considerable increase in salary. Before accepting, I asked Ben to swear
that he had had nothing to do with it. When he assured me that he didn't
even know about it, I accepted. Ben was really happy. For me, it was a
significant promotion.

I touched earlier on my disagreement with Ben. It had been the only
really serious friction there had been between us in all the time we had
been living together.

We had decided to spend three days in our Sunshine Hut. The minute we
arrived, as the weather was fine and very warm, Ben stripped off and
wore just a pair of shorts. I loved seeing him that way, half naked: to
be able to admire his splendid, perfectly-proportioned physique was a
feast for my eyes. Dressed like that, he went out to work in the garden
while I was preparing our meal. From time to time I would see him pass
in front of my window and wink merrily at me. The lunch was almost ready
and I hadn't seen him for a while, so I went out to call him. He was
leaning against the south-west fence talking to a lad sitting on a
bicycle beyond the fence. They were smiling and chatting and I noticed
that the youth's eyes were caressing Ben's almost bare body...  I felt
stung by a faint sense of jealousy and annoyance. I called him, and he
answered with an almost absent-minded wave, but went on talking with the
young man who was staring at him almost shamelessly. So I called him
again.

"Yes, I'm coming." Ben answered a little tetchily, but didn't make a
move.

I went back inside, angry. When he came back in about five minutes
later, cheerful as ever, I was at the table, sulky, and had started to
eat all alone. He noticed it immediately and asked me what was going on.
I went for him, saying I didn't like him showing himself off that way,
half naked, to a stranger with lust-filled eyes. He laughed and I only
got more furious. I think Ben really thought I was joking, because he
answered that, when all was said and done, I liked turning on lust in
boys' eyes and he liked to be undressed by them, and to be admired.

To me it came like a slap in the face. So I called him all sorts of
names and shouted at him that he should run after the boy and let him
undress him for real, let him fuck him right in the middle of the
village square, if he liked it that much. When he realised I was
genuinely furious and not pretending, not joking, it was too late. So we
had a quarrel and went straight back to London. I went back home to my
family in a black mood. He went to his palace. His mother told him he
was wrong, as I've said, so that same evening Ben came and rang at my
family's door, asking if I was at home.

My mother, in the dark about everything, replied that I was, and called
me. When we were alone in the lounge, he apologised and asked me to go
with him back to our apartment, because he wanted to explain to me and
be forgiven. I answered with a curt no. Then he said that if I didn't go
with him, he wouldn't move from that spot. Afraid of creating an
embarrassing scene, and probably no little scandal, I unwillingly
agreed.

Once at our apartment, Ben explained to me, apologised in such a
grieved, distressed, sincere way that in the end I could be upset with
him no longer.

"I swear" he kept repeating "I do not care for that boy at all, to me
only you exist... I made a mistake, I realise that now. But I didn't
mean to hurt you, to make you angry. I swear I will never again show
myself undressed like that to anybody apart from you. Please, Andrew,
please, forgive me!"

"Perhaps... perhaps you too have to forgive me. I know you love me, I
know that for you only I exist... I was wrong to react in that way, I
didn't really have any reason to be jealous..."

We embraced. Then I told him about Michel and Alain, then of all the
time I'd spent before meeting him. I had never told him before, nor had
he ever asked me anything. But now I needed him to know everything about
me. He listened in silence, then said that I too I had to know
everything about him. So he told me about his childhood, then of his
first sexual experiences with a college companion at Oxford. And of his
experiences when he was a page at Buckingham Palace, when he was
seventeen, and Prince Edward had called him into his bed several times.
Then about other adventures he had had; the infatuation he had had for
two twins, his stable boys, when he was twenty.

"But there was no real love, just sex, though it was really great to be
with those two lads at the same time. Before meeting you, the only one
time I ever felt in love was when I was twenty-one. It was my
eighteen-year-old cousin; he wasn't in love with me, on the contrary, he
used me. I was crazy about him, almost like I am now for you. But he
took advantage of that. He just wanted to amuse himself. I became like a
slave, a toy in his hands. Just to make him happy, just to have him, I
did everything he asked me. I went to the point of picking up boys,
soldiers, to bring them to him. He enjoyed watching them fuck me...

It was my mother who rescued me. She noticed I was unhappy and gradually
she came to realise why. Then she confronted my cousin and ordered him
to get out of my life. Fortunately my cousin was scared of my mother,
and we never saw him again.

My mother had known about me for a long while, ever since I had been
having fun with the two stable boys. So, at that time, she had asked
advice from Lord Alfred Douglas, to whom she is distantly related. He
advised her to let me follow my own way. She asked his advice again when
she discovered what was happening with my cousin. It was then that
Alfred gave me that book, thanks to which we now are together. He had a
long talk with me, explained a lot of things, and also revealed that my
mother knew, and understood and accepted me.

And now... I have to confess one last thing to you. I hope you... you
will be able to understand and will not be upset with me again..."

"I promise." I answered.

"Well, you see, that boy I was talking with... there at the Sunshine...
I met him after cutting off with my cousin. At that time he was the
under-barman at the Club. One day the water failed while I was taking my
shower. My whole body was covered in soap and I needed to rinse off. So
I called out. He was passing nearby, heard me and said he would fetch a
bucket of warm water from the bar. He came back and offered to pour it
over me. I was all set to refuse, but from his glances I realised he
liked me and I quite liked him physically too. So I accepted, and
further, told him to undress too, so as not to get soap splashes on his
clothes. He complied without any hesitation and once we were shut in the
shower cubicle, we had sex. We went on meeting almost every day for four
months, until he stopped working at the Club and left London. I was not
in love with him, nor he with me. We just enjoyed having good sex
together.

He had happened to be passing there today quite by chance; he'd been to
visit his grandparents and was on his way back home. Passing on his
bicycle, he recognized me and stopped. He greeted me and asked me if I
wanted him to stop for a while to have sex. I answered no immediately.
Indeed, when you called me, I explained to him that my refusal was
because I was in love with you and that, therefore, there was no reason
any more now, and that I felt no desire to have sex with anybody else.
That's the truth, I beg you, believe me! Since I have had you,
absolutely nobody else interests me. You are everything to me, I have
given myself completely to you, and..."

"I believe you, my love. Ben... I need you, now, right away."

"I'm here, love..."

We sealed the peace on our first and last quarrel in the way we knew
best, abandoning ourselves into each other's arms, giving ourselves
warmly to each other with renewed passion.

In August the international crisis appeared to heighten again. Hitler
laid claim to some of Poland's territories. I was sent again to Germany,
where I arrived on the 23rd, just in time to the crisis escalate. That
day Germany and Russia signed a blatantly anti-Polish non-aggression
pact. Then America sent the Polish President a gift of twenty-three
American flags: now Poland could really feel safe from Nazi
aggression!!! I never did understand that kind of symbolic move from the
American government. And moreover, why twenty-three flags? Was there
some magic in that number???

Someone stated that Mussolini would probably have acted as an
intermediary again, as he did for Czechoslovakia. Perhaps they were
trying to ignore the fact that, less than a year after that "mediation",
Czechoslovakia no longer existed?

I remember I felt anguish grab me by the throat.

By 26th August, the German army was lined up along the border with
Poland. On the 28th Sir Henderson, the British Ambassador in Berlin,
attempted mediation, at the same time reminding Hitler that, were he to
invade Poland, he would find himself at war with both Great Britain and
France. I interviewed him when he got back to the Embassy after his
meeting with the Führer; I found him a tired and mistrustful man.

He said to me: "The second World War has broken out... or at, least a
European war!" then he said, tensely: "Don't you dare publish what I
just said!"

On the 29th Hitler invited a Polish delegation to Berlin to negotiate
over the German "requests" that were really and truly an ultimatum. On
the 31st, Warsaw refused the invitation.

At dawn on 1st September, the occupation of Poland began. I was at the
Reichstag to cover Hitler's announcement speech. So it really was to be
war.

On the 2nd I was at the British Embassy again: now they were burning
stacks of documents. Sir Henderson saw me and nodded a greeting.

"Are you going back to London?" he asked me.

"How about you?"

" My rôle here is over..."

"I'll travel back with you, but before that, I'd like to make a short
trip into Poland."

"No, don't go there or you risk finding yourself in... enemy territory."

"I see." I said.

In fact, on September 3rd, France and Britain declared war on Germany,
and I barely managed to board the last plane to London.

When I next saw Ben again he was pale and tense: "I have been called up,
into the Royal Navy."

"When do you have to leave?"

"The day after tomorrow, for Dover."

"And... and me?" Ben didn't answer. Then I cried out: "I'm coming with
you."

"How?"

"Instruct The Times to assign me to your ship as their correspondent. I
never wanted you to do anything for me at The Times. But now it is
different, now I want you to!"

"But we'd also need authorisation from the Defence Minister and from the
Admiralty..."

"So get those too! I don't want to leave you. Either we both face the
same risks, or neither of us does." We had a long discussion; he was
against it, but in the end he agreed.

September 5th saw us setting off for Dover together; he had arranged
everything.

I had always thought Ben handsome, but now, in uniform, he radiated a
special fascination. I saw women turning their heads, and even quite a
few men. I was so proud of him.

So in a way, I too was at war. Ben's being a senior officer and I a
special correspondent authorised by the Ministry, and on the same ship,
we had the opportunity to see each other without problems.

By September 19th, Poland was completely occupied, half by Germany and
half by Russia. Meanwhile, we were fighting the German navy in the
Channel. A slow battle, obstinate and hard.

On 29th September the partition of Poland was sanctioned with a new
Russo-German pact. On 1st November the Red Army invaded Finland, which
resisted valiantly.

On December 12th our ship was damaged by the Germans, but we managed to
fight them off. I saw one of the deck gunners killed, and so, without a
second thought, I took his place. I don't really know how, it must have
been beginner's luck, but I succeeded in firing three good shots, the
last of which was a dead hit on the bridge of the German ship, which
limped off straightaway. The immediate danger ended, the sailors bore me
down in triumph.

Ben told me that my heroic act had been signalled to the Ministry. But
later, when we were alone, he scolded me. And then we made love.
Unhappily, we had very few opportunities, but when we did, we were
seized with an enormous joie de vivre. It was probably also an
unconscious reaction to the death that winged around us.

On February 2nd, I became the "reluctant hero" again for the second
time. We were under attack by a patrol of Stukas that began strafing our
decks with bursts of machine gunfire and dropping 100 lb bombs. Our men
replied with our big guns and machine guns. Ben was on the bridge. I
went out to get a better look at the scene I had to describe for the
newspaper, and to count the Stukas. Walking backwards, I stumbled and
fell down the ladder an officer was climbing up. We both tumbled to the
bottom: a fraction of a second later the ladder disappeared in a
blinding flash. My body shielded the officer, but I was shrapnelled in
three places: twice in the thigh and once in the left arm. I was carried
immediately to the ship's sick bay. I recovered in little more than a
month and was reported to the Ministry for the second time; no matter
how much I insisted that my act had been involuntary, nobody was
prepared to believe me.

On March 12th the Soviets signed the peace agreement with Finland. On
April 6th the USSR attacked Norway. On April 27th there was the
umpteenth direct clash between our ship's convoy and the Germans. Ben
ordered me to remain below; I had to obey, not really because he was
Ben, but because he was a superior officer...

The attack over, to be forgiven, he came to make love in my cabin.

"But are you sure that people on board aren't suspicious of your long
stays in my cabin?" I asked him. "No, don't worry, Andrew. I'm the
officer assigned to press relations, and you are the press... so it is
only logical that we should have... relations!"

We both burst out laughing at that word play and, undressing each other,
we leapt into my berth.

On 10th May, the German Army invaded Holland and Belgium. The Dutch army
capitulated on the 15th, and Queen Willemine took refuge in London. By
the 20th, the German army controlled part of the Channel. Our troops in
France had to abandon Arras. On the 25th they retreated toward Dunkirk.
On the 26th Calais and Boulogne fell. On the 28th the Belgian army
surrendered to the Germans. Events were turning for the worst, like an
avalanche.

May 29th all British ships, military and civil, were ordered to go to
Dunkirk and evacuate the British and French armed forces surrounded by
the Germans who were overrunning France.

I have a strange but clear-cut memory of those days. About seven hundred
craft, both military and civilian, were on the Channel between Dover and
Dunkirk. There were private boats too, sailing boats, motorboats, even
driven by priests and nuns. The whole of maritime England had
spontaneously mobilised to rescue their men and their allies. We had
about 400,000 soldiers to transport! Until June 4th, the day Dunkirk
fell, it was a chaos of heroism and generosity, under continuous German
attack by sea, land and air.

Our ship made its last embarkation on June 3rd. We headed back to Dover
at full steam, zig-zagging in the black waters infested by German ships
and bombers. Our ship was overloaded with British and French soldiers in
a sorry state, tattered, hungry, wounded, but morale was high
nevertheless. "We'll be back!" was the watchword of the soldiers of both
nations, brothers in their determination.

I was interviewing those valiant men when we were attacked by a Stuka
patrol. But we could see the planes of the RAF coming to our rescue. I
kept asking myself how we could possibly avoid shooting our own planes,
firing from our ship in all that confusion. The battle lasted about half
an hour. Towards the end, a German bomb struck our ship astern.

The silence that follows a battle is something unreal. Then, suddenly,
the silence was broken by shouted orders, to check the seriousness of
the damage we had suffered. I heard the Commander say:

"We can reach Dover, if we aren't attacked again. Take care of the
wounded now."

I joined in that task as well. I was helping to carry a wounded
Frenchman to a berth when I heard a petty officer say: "At the first
count, eleven dead and sixty-eight wounded, sir."

At that point I realised that it was a long time since I had see Ben and
a crazy terror seized me, almost a premonition. I barely managed to get
the French soldier to his berth, then I ran up on deck again.

Making an enormous effort not to show my terror, I managed to ask: "Any
losses amongst the officers, sir?"

"No."

"And... wounded?"

"Two."

"Their names?" I asked, my heart in my throat.

When I heard Ben's name I turned pale. I ran down to his cabin. He was
there, lying in his berth, attended by a soldier who was wiping away his
blood mixed with sweat.

"You can go. I'll attend to him." I said.

I looked at Ben and my eyes were filled with tears, welling up without
being able to run down.

"How... how are you?"

"Fine, Andrew..." he answered automatically

"Where are you wounded?"

"Almost everywhere, I think. A machine gun..."

"Have you been seen to?"

"Yes, don't worry."

I would have liked to embrace him but I didn't know what state he was
in, so I held back, afraid of hurting him. But I stroked his face with
my fingers. His head was bandaged too.

Pointing at it, I asked: "Is your head wounded?"

"Just a cut, nothing serious."

I stayed by him for probably an hour, when the medical officer came. He
waved me to leave.

When he came out I asked him: "Is he seriously wounded?"

"I don't think he'll last to Dover. Internal bleeding."

"Are you joking?"

"Do you think I'm in the mood?"

"But... can't you do a transfusion, I don't know... something!"

"What with? My bare hands? The sick bay is destroyed." the doctor
answered curtly as he left.

I went back to Ben's side, wishing myself dead. It wasn't true, it
couldn't be true!

Ben smiled weakly up at me: "Hey, what a face! It's not the end of the
world, is it? Did you want to be the only one getting wounded in this
war?"

I shook my head, confused. I tried to push back my tears and smile. Ben
didn't know what a bad state he was in... he didn't know he was dying,
and I had to hide the truth from him...

"As soon as we arrive in Dover you'll get to the hospital and you'll
see, they'll make you as good as new." I said.

He smiled again, with a melting sweetness: "No, I'm not going to make it
to Dover. I know it. I'm sorry, Andrew... I'm sorry to leave you like
this. So soon."

"Oh no, no... what are you saying?"

"Sssh, quiet. Listen to me, there's so little time left. Take my ring to
my brother. He will be the next Lord C**... And tell my mother not to
cry too much... I've had a good life, thanks to her, and I'm leaving in
a good way, with the one I love beside me..."

Suddenly he stopped talking, but his eyes still looked at me, sweet and
bright, in a kind of melting smile.

Then he moved one hand towards me. I took it and he clutched my hand
ever so slightly: "Well, now I have to go, my love. I would like to...
tell you plenty... but there is no more left time. Goodbye... and
forgive me for leaving you... so... soon..."

His hand slid from mine. His eyes were open, but now they were empty,
the light that previously shone was extinguished, and it seemed as if he
was looking far, far, far, away...

I couldn't react. Suddenly I felt completely emptied. As if in a trance,
I shut his eyes, slipped the ring from his finger, then I covered his
face with the sheet and went out, feeling nothing, seeing nothing,
hearing nothing, to my cabin. I opened the door, and at that precise
instant I heard the troops' shouts from the deck: "Dover! Dover!" and I
passed out.

I woke up in Dover hospital. It was 3 a.m. on the 4th June. I got up and
tried to find out where Ben's body was. He had been transported to
Canterbury for the official memorial service that was to be held the
6th. Then my thoughts turned to his family: had they been informed? I
hired a car and asked to be driven to London. At 6:45 I was at Claverden
House. The butler came to open the door.

"Oh, Mr. Nike..."

"Lady C**... has she been... informed yet?"

"Yes, Mr. Nike."

"Is she resting now?"

"No, she is in the study with her family."

"Do you think I... would be intruding...?"

"I don't know... I wouldn't presume... Have you just come from Dover,
sir?"

"Yes."

"Were you with him when... when..."

"Yes."

"Please, do come in, sir. I will ask M'lady."

He was back soon: "M'lady prays you to kindly wait just a moment in the
green drawing-room. Will you please follow me, sir?"

I entered the drawing-room and now alone, I realized I had neither
changed my clothes nor shaved. I must have looked a terrible sight. But
I certainly hadn't thought earlier about making myself presentable.

After a while Ben's mother entered. She was already wearing mourning. We
looked at each other for a moment, in silence, then she closed the door,
came over and held out her hand to greet me: "Good morning, Andrew..."

I was about to kiss her hand, but this time she clasped my hand instead
and said: "Thank you for coming immediately. You were with him when he
died?"

I nodded. Then I put one hand into my pocket and drew out the ring: "He
asked me to bring this to his brother."

"Keep it with you for now. You can give it to Lyndon in person. Did he
say anything else?"

"He said... that you mustn't cry because... because he was glad he..." I
started but my own tears prevented me.

She squeezed then caressed my hand, and gently said: "Go on..."

"He was happy to leave with me at his side."

His mother nodded, then asked: "Let me embrace you, Andrew."

We embraced tightly, and now at last she joined me in my silent and
heartfelt weeping. Then she asked me other details, other things. We
talked for a long time about Ben. She invited me to come back.

"You will come to Canterbury for the funeral service, of course: you are
part of the family."

I thanked her, then I went back to our little apartment. I flung myself
onto our bed and at last I could finally sob aloud, crying out for my
Ben.

On June 6th I went to the funeral service, in Lady C**'s car.

Here I entrusted the family ring to Lyndon, who was now eighteen,: "Wear
with pride this ring that has belonged to your ancestors and to
Benjamin, he charged me to give it to you. He wore it with honour."

"Thank you, sir. I will do my best, I promise you!"

On the 10th June, Italy declared war on France and Great Britain. I was
working at The Times when the news arrived.

Barely an hour after this information, one of the C** grooms asked for
me: "Lady C** bids you come to the Claverden House immediately, sir."

I followed him. When I arrived, Lady Martha welcomed me: "Andrew! You
and your whole family must move here to Claverden House immediately."

"But why, M'lady?"

"Even though you are British citizens now, people will still consider
you Italians and therefore enemies, and you will not be safe. I took the
liberty of sending for your parents and sister and brother with their
families as well. I will have the west wing prepared for you. You will
be safe here," and she explained to me how she had organised everything.

Listening to her, I was convinced she was right. So I and my family
lived at Claverden House for about seven months, until the waters were
calmer and we judged we were no longer at risk.

In July, Lady Martha summoned me to her study.

"I have settled all of our Benjamin's estate. I have decided that you
will have the Sunshine Hut: it belonged to the two of you. Cadogan Lane
belongs to you already. You will also have his share of the Club, and
his horses. And here are some of my son's personal belongings that I'm
sure he would have wanted you to have: his diary, the book he received
from Lord Alfred Douglas, his collection of pipes and your letters. I
would also like you to have his car and this portrait."

I was moved, and speechless. "But, M'lady, I... I have no right to
anything..."

"On the contrary, you have a right to much, much more. But I couldn't
give you more without explaining the reason to the other children, to
the family, and I am afraid they would not understand. But all of this
is really yours. You truly loved him and made him happy. If Benjamin had
been married, then his wife would have inherited much more. But that was
not possible. However, do remember that, even if in the eyes of the law
you have no ties with my son, to me it is different: you really made
Benjamin a happy man. Therefore, at least as long as I am alive, this
house will always be your home. So, please accept the little I can hand
over to you of all that you would have a right to, if only our society
were different. It is not a gift from me, but from my son, our
Benjamin..."

I was deeply moved.

In the days following, the family solicitor was summoned to settle
everything officially. But that wasn't the end of the surprises.

Ben had written to his mother about my "heroic actions" during the war.
Lady Martha, knowing that the Ministry was about to award me two medals,
asked to be received by King George, her 3rd cousin, and asked him to
make me a Baronet. It seems that the King was not so inclined, perhaps
because of my Italian origins, with Italy and Great Britain being still
at war. But Lady Martha managed to obtain the sovereign's consent.

So, on the 28th of December, 1940, when I was 25 years old, the King
dubbed me Baronet for special war merits".

After the investiture ceremony at Court, Lady Martha embraced me with
affection and said: "Now I am certain that our Benjamin, up there, is
satisfied, Sir Andrew Nike."

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6

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In my home page I've put some of my stories. If someone wants to read
them, the URL is

http://www.geocities.com/~andrejkoymasky/

If you want to send me your feedback, send a e-mail to
andrejkoymasky@geocities.com

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