Tears of Autumn, The (20 page)

The funeral took place at the same church where the high sheriff’s service had been some two weeks before.

It was 2.15 when the organist stopped playing Bach’s
Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring
and the packed congregation stood as his coffin was brought in, escorted by the clergy and carried on the shoulders of the bearers, to be laid before the altar.

Slowly the family filled the two front rows of reserved pews.

They remained standing, and sang the hymn: ‘
Be Thou My Vision, O Lord of my heart
’.

Prayers followed, then his son, Conrad, climbed the pulpit to deliver a tribute to his father. A woman whispered how like his father he looked.

Conrad Banks surveyed the sea of expectant faces, took his time.

‘All of you knew my father in one way or another, from business, or the Rotary Club, or from the many charities he worked for, or indeed the Office of High Sheriff.’

He paused, checked his notes before looking up again.

‘But I wonder how many of you know of his earlier days, as a pilot in the war. He rarely spoke about that part of his life, or the fact that he was married before he met …’ his eyes found his sister, ‘our mother.’

Conrad looked back at them all.

‘She was called Rosemary, and both my father and mother made quite sure we knew of her existence, she was never forgotten in our household.

‘Tragically, she was killed during the war serving in the WRNS, one of a total of over three hundred young girls killed in the service of their country in that branch alone.’

Conrad Banks paused, shuffled the cards on which he had written his notes.

He placed his hands on both sides of the lectern, and looked serious, defiant even.

‘We were equally made aware that Mother had also been married before, in Germany, and that her first husband, too, was killed in action, unbelievably against Father, in one of those weird coincidences that life throws up. Even more remarkably, Mother forgave our father, a testament to the bond of friendship that had been forged, by chance, before the war. And of course, testament to her loving and forgiving nature, and the fact that she and father found love again, with each other. Like so many of their generation, they had to pick themselves up and start all over again.’

He smiled. ‘I’m very glad they did, as my sister and I wouldn’t be here today if they hadn’t.’

There was laughter. It didn’t seem inappropriate, not at Biff’s funeral.

Conrad waited before continuing.

‘Biff and Anna celebrated their diamond wedding anniversary not long before she, sadly, passed away. She spoke such beautiful English that some people never realized her origins.

‘Mother had a wicked sense of humour, and many of you will remember the beautiful woman who stood beside her husband in his shrieval year – an Anglo Saxon office, as she never let him forget.’

Conrad became grave, looked a bit hesitant, nervously cleared his throat.

‘Thanks to the Freedom of Information Act and my sister,’ he
smiled, ‘Rosemary, being such a wizard with computers, we uncovered an amazing fact that we have since had verified by the Archive Records branch of the Royal Air Force.

‘We wondered about mentioning it today, but in the end we decided we would, as a footnote to his life, and history.

‘Biff was cited for a medal for his part in the sinking of a
U-boat
; in fact, it’s no exaggeration to say that the Victoria Cross was being considered.’

There was a stirring in the congregation. He gave them time to settle.

‘It became clear that my father refused all medals to do with the incident – which, of course, led to the death of Anna’s husband, and after the war he worked tirelessly, with Mother, for the promotion of friendship and understanding between Germany and Great Britain.’

When he’d finished, Conrad resumed his seat. Prayers of thanksgiving and intercession followed, including the Lord’s Prayer, before, dark-haired and strikingly like her mother, Rosemary mounted into the pulpit and opened her Bible.

She coughed and then explained.

‘A reading from the RAF Bible, as used in Coastal Command during the war: Chapter Seven, psalm sixty nine, verses one to three.’

She cleared her throat.

Fighting back tears she stepped down and returned to join the family, hands comforting her as she sat.

His coffin was preceded down the aisle to the door by a piper playing a lament.

The final chapter in the lives of Biff and Anna, Rosemary and Konrad was over.

A generation was passing into history.

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