Albina and I drove up today to see Sandro in Cambridge, deliver some empty suitcases and collect packed suitcases and some longer term storage that he will leave in the UK for now. Their ground floor sitting room was filled from room to room with packed cartons ready for the freight transport which will collect the goods on Tuesday. We had a quick meal in a local pub and left them to it with continuing the packing. Sandro wants me to liaise with local charities and with Cambridge City Council to collect the goods he and Liisa will be forced to leave in Cambridge, when they move permanently to Finland this coming week. On Tuesday, after their goods are collected, that are coming down to London by train (which will NOT be on strike that day) to spend the last couple of days with us.
On the way back we drove through the driving rain by way of the M11 and the North Circular. The route was lined with stricken cars on the hard shoulder, heavy spray from passing lorries and huge puddles sometimes right across the carriageway. The noise was so loud I did not even hear the news bulletins until I got home. Then I realised one of my worst fears had been borne out. Bolsonaro's angry mobs had invaded the Congress building in Brasilia, the Supreme Court and had even surrounded the presidential palace. Luckily Lula was in Sao Paulo and immediately condemned the attack promising to punish the perpetrator. Other governments had spoken up in defence of democracy in Brazil, including Jake Sullivan, the US security adviser. Bolsonaro is following Trump's policy of denial, slash and burn. I understand he is currently in the USA but you can be sure it will not be Biden he will be visiting. On which side will Trump appear, and on which side Xi and Putin?
Am desperately trying to forget about poor Harry who is noe even beginning to question how his mother died. But Albina remains glued to the subject and also scornful of Harry. Harry has described his guilt at the fact that he could not cry for his mother after she was killed. He described how he, still only 12 years old, had to keep a sombre dry-eyed face as he shook the moist hands of the public, even though they had just been wiping away their tears for a woman they did not know, but who was everything to Harry. A genuinely poignant reflection. However, Albina was not impressed. She did not know her father and she lost her beautiful young mother, when she was only seven years old. She too was made to walk immediately behind the coffin dry-eyed. Unlike Harry she walked through the snow to the burial plot completely alone, She was followed at a distance by her squabbling family, but without any young friend or relative to whom she could confide or even hug. She too built up a thick skin for herself as she battled alone and friendless to survive at the hands of her fractious family. Resentful she may have been, but certainly she had no sense of guilt about not shedding a tear. That would only have made her vulnerable.
No comments:
Post a Comment