Pinnie - Behind The Limelight

PINNIE – by KENNETH PARRETT

01.

Extract from Chapter two:

Mary Brockman, my Godmother, had promised to take me out to the Indian Reservation to visit her relations where she planned to stay for a few days, or longer. Would I like to come with her? Of course, I agreed to go.

The village was situated in the Peguis Indian Reserve, midway up Lake Winnipeg on the western shore, a journey of about 100 miles due north of Winnipeg. I thought this was great fun and could not wait for the day to come. We started our journey by ‘bus and then they transferred to a covered wagon, pulled by horses. The wagon was bumpy and everything was covered in dust. I put my handkerchief over my nose and mouth to keep it out. The countryside we travelled through was beautiful, rolling hills covered with trees of different varieties, still green lakes and fast flowing clear rivers. Eagles hovered overhead and there were signs of Caribou and Beaver.

By late evening we had run out of road and were approaching the village over open countryside with occasional stands of trees. The village came into view; there were about forty tents erected around a central larger one and camp fires were burning in front of the tepees. Mary found her family and after much welcoming hugs and kisses, introduced me, telling them I was her Godchild. She took her case into the tent and Mary showed me how to arrange my bed as we would be sleeping on the ground. That evening we all sat round the fire to have the evening meal. Sweetcorn and some kind of meat that I thought was quite nice. Afterwards I was offered an Indian made wine. I took a sip but after making a face said that I did not like it. It was the first time I had tasted wine.

I slept uneasy that night and was pleased Mary was closeby. It was a little frightening to be miles from home in a strange environment. The following day we explored the camp and the surrounding countryside. I thought it was beautiful and was really pleased when I was given a ride on a horse without a saddle. I learnt how the Indians moved camp when the ground around became exhausted and would not grow good crops. I saw their ways of making clothes and how they survived the extreme winter weather. They were all so very kind to show me anything I wanted to see or do. Inevitably the week went by quickly and soon it was time to leave. As a leaving party they all gathered around the central fire on the last evening and sang Indian songs. I was very sad to be leaving, they were such nice people. The journey home was just as dirty but I had enjoyed myself so much that I did not notice it. My high regard for native Indians was to last me all my life.

O2.

Extract from Chatper 9

One day, while sitting in front of a roaring wood log fire I looked up and saw a red Royal Mail post van coming down the front drive. The driver delivered a telegram (Authors Note : the original remains in my possession) for me from the main post office in Fareham where it had been redirected from Coulsdon, Surrey. It was from KK in Switzerland from the home of Mr and Mrs Charles Chaplin at Corsier-sur-Vevey.

“CAN YOU COME OVER AND HELP OUT WITH THE CHILDREN FOR TWO OR THREE MONTHS”.

Glory be!. I was so surprised to receive this request I just sat down to make sure what I was reading was real. Look at this Rose, I said, What shall I do? I discussed it over lunch and finally decided to wire back saying “ON MY WAY”. I knew this was a cry for help. KK was getting nervous. Mrs Chaplin was expecting a new baby any time now, she wanted help with the older ones; the new baby came along safely on time and was named Eugene Anthony, their second son.

A flight was arranged as soon as possible to Geneva and I went straight to the Manoir where they lived overlooking Vevey. A large turn of the century house, painted all white with a veranda running all along the southern aspect. It was above the town of Vevey, standing in about 14 hectares of parkland with mature trees planted with great care not to obstruct the view over the lake and mountains beyond. It was here that Mr and Mrs Chaplin had decided to make their home after they had been refused permission to return to the U.S.A. The huge iron gates were locked and I rang the bell provided. There was a gatehouse, or lodge, quite near and a gentleman came out to inquire my business. I told him I had an appointment with KK and Mrs Chaplin, whereupon he escorted me to the rear entrance. He opened the door and gave a shout for KK. She welcomed me with open arms.

KK took me into the staff quarters and sat me down. How glad I am to see you, she said, I`m nearly at my wits end. We need more help in the house to look after the older children. The new baby is quite enough for me. Mrs Chaplin authorised me to wire you to see if would come to help out for a short while. She wants to see you as soon as you arrive. After a nice cup of tea we went along to the drawing room to see her. Mrs Chaplin was a beautiful person, qu