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Helena

By Jo-Anne Berthelsen

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‘Father, we thank you for your love and care, and your constant provision for us. We thank you for our friend Stefan, and his presence with us. May he be encouraged by our fellowship, and strengthened for the work you have given him to do. Bless us now as we share this meal together. Amen.’

Heléna never tired of hearing her father’s beautiful voice, so full of depth and sincerity, as he said grace before a meal. It was part of their family tradition, an expression of their deep faith and trust in God that remained firm, whatever was happening around them. Now more than ever, she treasured these moments, since her father was away so often on business. She opened her eyes, and glanced lovingly across at him, as he raised his bowed head, his silvering hair glinting in the light of the candles positioned nearby on the dinner table. He smiled warmly at her, some of the weariness apparent in his face lifting as he did. She was glad he was home again – and she was glad he had arranged for his friend Stefan to join them.

‘It’s wonderful to have you both here,’ her mother commented, putting Heléna’s own thoughts into words. ‘Of course, Heléna looks after me well while you’re away, Václav, but we’ve missed you so much! And it’s so good to have you here again, Stefan. If I remember rightly, Heléna was at school in Prague last time you were here, so I’m pleased you can finally meet.’

‘I’m very happy to be here, Anezka, and especially pleased to meet the daughter I’ve heard so much about,’ Stefan responded, the sincerity in his voice unmistakeable, as his eyes rested for a moment on Heléna’s flushed face.

Heléna’s eyes met his, and then quickly fell. Her head was spinning a little, with the effort of processing the gamut of unaccustomed emotions that had risen in her ever since Stefan’s handshake, when Václav had first introduced them. She remained silent now, helping herself to the meal Berta had brought them, listening to the exchanges that soon flowed around her again, seeking some inner equilibrium as she did so.

Anezka, always particularly observant where her daughter was concerned, had noticed the momentary loss of her usual poise, acquired through the years of helping her entertain Václav’s many business guests.

‘I hope you approve of the celebrations we’ve planned for your birthday, Václav,’ she commented brightly, endeavouring to divert attention away from Heléna. ‘We’ve invited just a few close friends and neighbours, and Berta and I are looking forward to preparing the food over the next two days. I know you men will be well occupied with all your business matters. Heléna will help too, so it won’t be a burden at all.’

Václav noticed the rather anxious, imploring glance directed at him, as Anezka finished speaking. No doubt she had seen the concern in his eyes that she would not overdo it, he thought. He carefully searched his wife’s face, looking for the telltale signs of weariness or ill health he had seen there all too frequently over the years since their little son Andrej’s death. It had been a bitter blow to them indeed, and one from which Anezka had had difficulty recovering, both physically and emotionally. God had brought her through, however, and obviously this past year that Heléna had been able to spend at home had helped keep her spirits high. Now his face softened, as he gently responded to her unspoken plea.

‘I’d be honoured, my dear – one doesn’t turn fifty too often. But you’re right,’ he continued. ‘Stefan and I do have work to do together. He’s a big help to me right now, and knows much more about current political issues in our homeland than I do, which I fear will impact not only our businesses, but all of us very soon. I thank God we met when we did – it must have been over a year ago now, wasn’t it, Stefan, at the conference in Brno? Anyway, enough of all that. I’m sure there are much more interesting matters to discuss over dinner. How are your music studies going, Heléna? We heard you practising hard when we first arrived today.’

Heléna felt herself relax a little. This was safe ground for her, any constraints being swept away in her desire to share about her music.

‘I’m working hard on a Beethoven concerto at present, and also some Tschaikovsky – two of my favourite composers, as you know. There are some difficult sections yet to master, but I’m enjoying the challenge. Uncle Erik’s been a wonderful help. I’ve been walking to the village twice a week for my lessons with him, but sometimes he comes here, so he can hear me play on our beautiful piano. I think he’s pleased with my progress, but he’s rather sparing with his praise, and always challenging me to do better! I love him though. He’s a dear man, so talented and experienced – and so willing to share all he knows with me. He must certainly have been worth hearing in his heyday.’

‘He was, I can assure you,’ Anezka quickly agreed. ‘Of course, he’d become famous more as an organist, by the time we met, but he was always helpful to me in my own career. And then, of course, he met you, Václav, and the two of you got on so well, that we’re all still friends to this day!’

‘Do you still play, Anezka?’ Stefan asked. ‘I’d love to hear you, as I know you had quite a following yourself as a concert pianist.’

A slight shadow passed over Anezka’s face as she replied.

‘No… no, not any more. I used to play a little, especially for our frequent guests, after we were first married and moved here to Tábor, but that was a long time ago. I’m afraid I haven’t been in the best of health for some years now – my heart’s a little weak – so I didn’t have the energy to put in the hours of practice needed to play really well. I’d rather not play at all than play shabbily, and disappoint both myself and my audience, whether that audience is two people or two thousand. I think my daughter has inherited some of my perfectionist tendencies – I often admire her perseverance, whenever I hear her practising certain passages over and over again.’

‘Did you teach her yourself at the beginning?’ Stefan enquired.

‘Only for a very short while,’ Anezka laughed. ‘I’m afraid I’ve always disliked the idea of teaching – I was definitely a performer. Also, as she grew older, we became such good friends that I didn’t want to complicate our relationship by trying to be her teacher as well. Fortunately, Uncle Erik came to our rescue, so I’m very thankful for that. I think my main role with Heléna is to encourage her in whatever way I can and to be an understanding and most appreciative audience. It’s the least I can do for the time she has given this past year to care for me and keep me company. But hopefully things will change for her next year – she’s currently practising hard for the auditions at the Prague Conservatorium in a few weeks’ time. Both Uncle Erik and I feel she has a very good chance of succeeding, but it’s in God’s hands. We’ll trust him, whatever the outcome.’

‘Perhaps Stefan’s tired of all this musical talk,’ Heléna interrupted, a little embarrassed at having become the main topic of conversation.

‘Not in the least,’ he responded quickly. ‘In fact, it’s one of my passions too. I have my family’s baby grand piano in my apartment in Prague, but unfortunately I don’t play it very well. When time permits, however, I love playing my cello – again not well, but passably, I hope. These days, like Václav, I’m afraid that managing the family business, with its factories spread across a number of cities, and also greater involvement, by necessity, in the political future of our country, keep me fully occupied. But while I’m here, Heléna, I’d count it a privilege to hear you play. Perhaps later this evening?’

‘Excellent idea, Stefan! Of course Heléna will play for us, I’m sure – I’d love that too. Shall we adjourn to the music room, then, if that suits you both?’ Václav suggested, rising to his feet.

For an instant, Heléna found herself slightly panic stricken. She realised, with a shock, how very badly she wanted to make a good first impression on Stefan, how important it seemed for him to like her and to enjoy her playing. She was about to open her mouth to suggest that they leave it until the following evening, when they heard someone knocking loudly on the front door. Václav went to answer it, and soon was ushering their young neighbour, Emil, into the dining room.

‘Good to see you again, Emil. I hope your parents are well?’

Turning to Stefan, Václav introduced them, explaining that Emil’s parents’ estate ran alongside their own property.

‘Our families have been friends for years, and over that time, Heléna and Emil have certainly managed to get themselves into a decent number of scrapes together, including capsizing our boat on the Luznice, just a short distance from here, and setting the horses at too high a fence somewhere!’ he laughed. ‘They still love going for long cross-country rides on occasions – it’s wonderful country around here to explore, Stefan. Too bad we have no time for such things these days,’ he sighed.

‘Actually, I came over here this evening for two reasons,’ Emil responded a little awkwardly, his eyes flicking constantly to Heléna. ‘Firstly, my parents asked me to let you know that we’ll all be able to come to your birthday celebration on Saturday, Mr Kovar, and to thank you for the invitation. And secondly, I was wondering if I could have a word with you, Heléna – but I didn’t realise you had guests,’ he concluded, looking somewhat disgruntled, and obviously disappointed.

There was a short silence, during which Heléna could feel her face redden with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. Eventually Stefan spoke quietly but with firmness.

‘Please don’t worry about me. Václav and I have a lot of work to get through while we’re here, and we really should make a start tonight. This is merely a postponement of the pleasure of hearing you, Heléna – make sure you practise hard for your special recital for us tomorrow evening!’

Heléna pulled herself together, grateful to him for handing her a way out of the situation.

‘I’ll be pleased to. I’m playing for our guests at Dad’s party, so you can be my critics before my next public performance.’

Václav and Stefan soon disappeared into the study, while Anezka went to find Berta and organise for coffee to be brought to them there. Emil and Heléna were left alone in the dining room, where they were soon seated facing each other.

‘Heléna, I’m sorry if I interrupted anything tonight, but I wanted to ask you to come riding with me tomorrow. It’s ages since we’ve done something together like that – you always seem too busy practising or going to your lessons or helping your mother. I know those things are important to you, but surely I’m important too! Surely our long friendship and all the plans we’ve made together for our future mean something to you.’

Emil had not meant the words to come out in such an angry, frustrated way, but they had been spoken now, and could not be taken back. Agitated, he brushed his fingers through his dark, wavy hair, and leaned forward to take Heléna’s hands in his. Before he could, however, she placed them firmly in her lap, drawing herself upright as she sat opposite him, her colour still heightened, and her eyes dangerously bright. For a moment, she bit her lip, trying to calm herself. She did not want to hurt Emil, but was determined he would hear and understand how she was feeling. Silently she prayed for wisdom to respond in the right way.

‘I’m sorry to have to disappoint you again, Emil,’ she said evenly at last, ‘but tomorrow I have to help Mum and Berta with some of the preparations for the weekend, and also I have another lesson with Uncle Erik, as well as more practice to do. I’m afraid my time is rather at a premium at present – as you know, the auditions for the conservatorium are coming up soon. I’m not sure when I’ll be free to go out with you again over the next little while, Emil. You know yourself on the farm that there are seasons when you’re too busy to ride and explore as we used to – and things change too. Of course I value your friendship, but my music’s also important to me, and I believe God would want me to use the gifts he’s given me to the best of my ability.’

Emil was silent for some time, as he stared almost unseeingly at Heléna, his fingers forming into tight fists where they rested on the table. Heléna in turn gazed back at her childhood friend, scenes from their many escapades together flitting through her mind in quick succession as she did. Emil’s strong, sturdy frame holding their boat while she clambered in, dripping wet, after a quick swim, his laughter as his horse flew past her in the race for home, the excitement in his voice, as he talked and dreamed of plans to develop the family farm. Her heart constricted within her, but some inner prompting held her back from any compromise. Eventually Emil stood abruptly, and spoke in a shaky voice.

‘There’s no more to be said then – for now at least. I’ll see you on Saturday night at the party. Surely after that you’ll find time somewhere to spend with me. Goodbye for now, Heléna!’

Emil moved quickly to the front door, closing it rather roughly after himself, so that it banged loudly. Heléna stood alone in the hall, hoping the noise had not disturbed Stefan and her father. Slowly, she turned and, as if drawn by an invisible magnet, made her way to the music room, her mind in turmoil. Seating herself at the grand piano, she rested her hands on the keys for a moment before launching with great deliberation into her Beethoven concerto.

She played with verve and passion, as if to exorcise any demons of doubt and confusion within her, attacking the more difficult sections with a vigour that Anezka, who was passing through the hallway at that point, had not heard before. She stood still, listening intently. Then unobtrusively, so as not to disturb Heléna, she entered the music room, seating herself at an angle some distance from the piano, so that she could observe her daughter as she played.

Such an expressive face, Anezka always felt – so full of character and determination, yet with that special softness apparent in the curve of her mouth and the sensitivity of those unusual grey-green eyes inherited from her father. This evening her shining blonde hair hung loose to her shoulders, rippling in the light from the chandelier above with every slight movement she made. From time to time she hastily brushed aside an errant tendril of the finer, curly hair that grew around her temples and occasionally escaped onto her forehead, obscuring her vision a little. Yet this quick unconscious movement did not break her concentration or interrupt the flow of exquisite sound that filled the room and spilled out into the hallway and beyond. Heléna seemed oblivious to her physical surroundings, her whole being suffused with the passion of the music, her mind and spirit transported, as it were, to another dimension. Anezka watched, and listened, and prayed.

Heléna came to the end of her concerto, and sat still, as if all emotion had been drained from her. She rested her hands in her lap, before slowly lifting them to begin playing again. This time the tender, haunting sound of Schubert’s ‘Träumerei’ filled the room, followed by one of Mendelssohn’s more sombre ‘Songs Without Words’. As the last notes died away, Anezka slowly moved to stand beside Heléna, resting her hand lightly on her shoulder. Heléna’s choice of music told her all she needed to know.

‘What is it, Heléna?’ she asked gently.

Heléna lifted troubled grey-green eyes to Anezka’s face. For a while she was silent, toying absently with a long blonde strand of hair, her hand shaking slightly, and her beautiful creamy skin flushed in confusion. Eventually, words tumbled from her lips.

‘Sometimes after I spend time with Emil I feel so restless and angry, and somehow so … so … pressed into a mould!’ she finally blurted out. ‘It’s like he takes it for granted that I’ll always be here for him … his little Heléna! He’s been saying for some time now that we belong together, that God has always meant us for each other, and I used to think so too … but I don’t know any more. I don’t know what to think, or how to say things to him even. It seems that nothing’s easy between us any more.’

As she spoke, the tears, held back as she had played, rolled down her flushed cheeks.

‘Maybe we’ve been seeing too much of each other. Maybe if we didn’t meet for a while, then we’d see things more clearly. I love Emil – I don’t want to hurt him, but sometimes lately I’ve felt so … trapped! I love being here with you, I love Tábor, but I want to do things with my life – I want to travel, I want to study more, I want to play in all the best venues in Prague just as you did. I don’t want to waste my life, doing less than what God intended me to do! And I don’t want to be successful just for selfish reasons either – which is what I feel Emil has been suggesting lately. Is it being selfish to want to do our best for God, to want others to enjoy and be blessed by the gifts we’ve been given? It’s more selfish, I believe, to want to keep people close, when it’s time to let them go, and to stop them from being all God wants them to be.’

She was crying in earnest now – tears of pain and confusion, but also tears of relief, as she shared what she was really feeling. Anezka had listened and soothed her, and now sat thinking deeply.

‘Heléna, I have a suggestion to make. What would you say to a few days together in Prague? Maybe some shopping – or a concert or two? I’ll need to rest up a little after our weekend celebrations, but we could travel with Dad when he returns to his office. What do you think?’

Heléna swallowed hard, eventually finding enough voice to respond. ‘I… I… I don’t know what to say. Are you sure it wouldn’t be too much for you?’

She had quietened a little by now, and sat scanning her mother’s face for signs of tiredness or pain. What she saw there was reassuring.

‘I’d love that so much! Maybe all I need is a break and change of scene…’

Even to her own ears she sounded less than convincing. With a soft sigh, she continued.

‘Things change I know – but it’s painful, isn’t it, this growing up, this finding out who you are? I don’t want Emil to be unhappy, but I feel I must do what God wants me to do, above everything else – whether that includes Emil or not.’

Anezka hugged her warmly for a long while.

‘It’s through the hard times and difficult decisions that we grow the most, dear. Be at peace! I know you have so much inside you from God to offer to the world. Just listen to your heart, and to his heart for you – always!’

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