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EmilyIndexChapter 9: Love in a cold climate1934-36 Emily went home to her Mother in Foxrock at the end of June 1934, after her first six-month tour of voluntary work with the Jewish community of Warsaw. She regretted in later years that she had not been given more encouragement to learn Polish seriously, but she was, after all, just an unpaid volunteer who might stay in Poland for only a short time. She said that it was a pity that almost the first Polish phrase she was taught was the one meaning 'I don't understand Polish.' She did, however, return to Warsaw in November with Miss Pilkington, an Irish missionary known affectionately as Pilkie. I have had two letters today. The new couple, Rudolph and Fela Brinke, are coming this morning to move into the small flat. The other letter is to say that the new Head of Mission, Mr Martin Parsons, is to arrive on Thursday!Emily and Pilkie flew about, removing from the small flat what did not belong there, and putting in a few bits and pieces so that the Brinkes could at least make a cup of tea when they arrived. They came, saw the flat allotted to them, and were obviously disappointed. They had expected the larger flat that Emily had. It took a few days and all Emily's charm to reconcile them to the arrangement. Meanwhile there was Mr Parsons' flat to get ready. Emily and others hustled round getting and making curtains for the dining room, collecting saucepans and so on. They were still hard at work on Thursday when he arrived. He was 27, the youngest in his family, the only one who had followed his father into the ordained ministry. Although not primarily an academic, he had been a tutor in a theological college. One of his students there, Leslie Brown, later Archbishop of Uganda and Bishop of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich, recalled that although his lectures seemed to be a repetition of the lectures he himself had heard, Martin was the only one of the college staff that the students felt they could approach and talk to. Martin came with no special training but with great enthusiasm. As an undergraduate at Cambridge he had joined a 'study-circle' on God's plan for the Jews. As a student at St John's theological college he had been caught up in a wave of enthusiasm for C.M.J. One of the staff left to join the Mission, and went to serve in Bucharest. Martin followed this man as Tutor, and it was not a complete surprise when he felt in 1934 that his time as a tutor was coming to an end, and that the next step should be service overseas. The question for Martin had been, which society? C.M.S., the largest Church of England missionary society, would have been an obvious choice; but it had split not long before, into the Bible Churchman's Missionary Society (now Crosslinks) and the Church Missionary Society (now the Church Mission Society). Martin wanted to serve in a united society. He had been reading about C.M.J. and was convinced that sharing the gospel with Jesus' own race, the Jewish people, was a priority. The fact that C.M.J. was the least popular of all missions was a challenge to him. He had spent his Easter vacation visiting friends in Egypt and Palestine and saw C.M.J. at work. He was impressed, and felt pulled even more strongly to this work. He approached Mr Gill, the Secretary of the Society, who told him of two posts in the Holy Land and of a coming vacancy in Warsaw. All through the busy summer of 1934 he thought about it, and in September went back to C.M.J. headquarters, which was then in Lincoln's Inn Fields. Mr Gill told him that if he offered, he would be sent to Warsaw. Mr Gill asked "Are you ready to go?" Martin simply said "Yes." A few days later he was brought before the General Committee. He was not impressed. The members seemed very old. They mentioned only three subjects:
Mr Gill, head of C.M.J., saw him off at Victoria station on January 1st 1935 and Mr Carpenter met him at Warsaw station. He arrived during a cold spell in the depths of winter. He was to take over the Mission in March from the Revd Harry Carpenter, who was to retire. He was a man that some would call idealistic, and others would say lived entirely by faith in Jesus Christ. A younger Polish woman recalled, 60 years later, that love shone from his eyes. Martin had heard back in England of a certain Miss Wynne who was in the Mission, and who was five years older than him. Mr Gill, showing him a snapshot of her, had said: 'She's nicer than that really.' Emily, busy with preparing the flat, did not go with Mr Carpenter to welcome the young man. When he arrived with Mrs Carpenter she was in the middle of fixing a shelf in the wardrobe that he was to use. She kept calm, and sized up the new Head of Mission. 'Very quiet' was her first observation. Then, from her five years' seniority, she thought 'quite boyish looking.' She looked into his eyes. They were dark brown. But then he turned his head and she saw that he had a rather long nose. But her general impression was favourable: 'nice.' That first meeting was remembered by Martin slightly differently. Pilkie greeted me at the top of the stairs, and then she asked me what I wanted for breakfast. Emily was already cooking the egg and bacon! When we were introduced I think I was a bit dumbfounded. She looked quite different in real life. I soon learned that Mr Gill was right about her being nicer than the photo.Both were very upright and formal, so no doubt their meeting was polite and proper. In Martin's life there had been at least one other woman that he had admired, and shortly before he left for Poland he heard of her engagement and burned all her letters to him. He was, by his own admission, a lonely man. Emily had a good friend in her brother's friend Ernest, but she was convinced that she was 'not the marrying type.' Living under the same roof, though naturally in different flats, they were thrown together, and mutual admiration grew. Emily soon made up her mind that he was wholeheartedly sincere and consecrated. She was impressed that he was so keen to meet all the people especially the Jewish ones, and that he liked the workers and especially "nice little Mr Weissmann". He believed that the distinction between the English missionary and the Hebrew Christian workers did not really exist. But there was something special about one Irish missionary. When Miss Wynne cooked his first breakfast, he began to notice that she had other attractions, besides being a good cook! On Martin's first Saturday evening there was a party for the Bible Class. Eighteen of them came. Martin arranged the games: Poor Pussy, Dumb Crambo, a sort of Drawing Clumps and so on. It was something that he enjoyed doing all through his career. Everyone had a good time, most of all Martin. He said afterwards that he didn't know if he had ever enjoyed a party better. Perhaps it was partly because of the blue dress that Emily wore, which gave him a new appreciation of her appearance. The day after Martin arrived in Warsaw Emily engaged a maid. She had to take Martha more or less on trust. A Deaconess brought her to the Mission House and presented two references, one from a lady who let Martha go with a heavy heart because she was leaving Warsaw, and the other from a family who went bankrupt and could no longer afford her. Both said Martha was honest, and Emily liked the look of her. In fact she looked 'sort of superior'. That was on Friday. Martha moved in and began work on Monday, at a wage of 50 zlotys a month. She was to do the washing. In the days before washing machines that activity could take a whole day. In the Mission House it included putting the washed clothes through a mangle that lived in the attic, and that made such a growling and trembling that Emily feared that the heating system was boiling over. Martha proved herself a good cook, though too fond, to Emily's simpler taste, of adding cream to dishes of every kind. Her method of cooking veal makes the mouth water: sear the meat in a pan; boil it in a pot; then transfer in to the oven and add half a bottle of cream. Serve when very tender with good potatoes and brussels sprouts. Some of Martha's other meals: roast duck followed by pancakes with raisins, cream cheese and cinnamon inside; Klops (mince); an Easter cake a foot high, but hollow, and decorated with chopped and browned nuts. Martin was feeling confident enough after a month to say: Wouldn't it be rather nice to have a joint one day?Emily and Martha went out to buy one, but it seemed that Polish butchers did not sell joints, but boned meat. Emily bought it, commenting "I'm afraid we spoil the man." She had to admit, though, that he did not quarrel with his victuals, but most meekly ate what they provided. Martha was not immediately successful with the English (or Irish) habit of porridge for breakfast. Her first attempt was so thin that the workers did not eat it. So Martha dished it up as soup that evening for dinner. Emily was gratified that Martha took her attempts at German quite seriously, and often even understood it! Martha's exertions with the mangle had reminded Emily of what happened a few days earlier, when the heating system really did boil over and water came through the ceiling of Martin's study. Central heating (like double glazing) was a feature of Polish houses long before it became common in the more temperate British Isles. Wednesday was day off for Martin and the Irish ladies. Within three weeks of his arrival he and Emily arranged to make their debut on the skating rink, but that Wednesday was the day it chose to thaw. They took a walk by the River Vistula instead - accompanied, as was in those days thought proper, by an older English married couple. Skating was something which Martin could do, and which Emily made a valiant effort to learn.
Although Martin was quiet, he talked a fair amount at meals. Housekeeping expenses, Mr Carpenter decreed, were to be shared by Martin, Emily and Pilkie in the ratio 40%, 30% and 30%. The ladies broke this gently to Martin and he agreed, but as he cut another slice of bread he sometimes murmured "Forty per cent!"
At another supper Martin got up and said: Oh, I found something to show you in a book.He came back and planted the book in front of Pilkie. The sentence that he had marked was: As it was Emily's afternoon off, the house was very peaceful.The day before had indeed been Emily's rest day, and she had been away visiting, so the joke was thoroughly appreciated. One of the standing jokes by this time was that Martin always attributed great fluency in German, Polish and Yiddish to Emily. He once said at meeting: One day Miss Wynne is going to give a talk in Yiddish!Indeed meals were often a constant battle of wits. Pilkie used to be 'all of a doodah' with Martin's jests. In the evening they played games. Martin felt lonely on any Wednesday when he was not with the ladies. Meanwhile he was making an impression in his preaching. The first comments were about his fine voice. Then people said that a sermon struck them. Mr Taylor said: He speaks to you, so it is easy to listen. He certainly knows what he wants to say, and says it, without rambling.Emily knew, because Martin confided in her, that he did not find preaching easy. He told her that he once broke down at a mission he was taking, and could not preach that evening. It had happened again the September before he came to Poland. Emily concluded that he had a sort of pulpit complex. Both Pilkie and Emily were concerned that he was not sleeping well, and feared that he was finding the work a burden. He himself later warned would-be missionaries that in the first few months a missionary often becomes downcast. Emily decided that they should feed him with nourishing things, and that she herself ought to come out of her usual shell and encourage him to come and skate. What was intended as kindness may have been interpreted as something more. The workers often went out for picnics, on their rest day, even in early spring. Normally 'Pilkie' was there as chaperon. Once or twice Martin managed to get Emily on her own for a walk. Once Emily persuaded Martin to go with her to buy apples - because he spoke better German. He was coming to find out more what a sterling person she was. His usual reserve crumbled on March 11th, and he spoke up and asked Emily if there was any hope. It was too sudden. She said No; this was the occasion when she pronounced herself 'not the marrying type'. His reaction was to wonder whether he was the sort of person that nobody wanted. After that it was an effort to be natural with each other. It may even have been a relief when in April they had a short post-Easter break, Emily and Pilkie in a country house belonging to a Countess, and Martin elsewhere. But they did not avoid each other's company. One Wednesday in mid May the three of them, Martin, Emily and Pilkie, walked to the big bridge and took a rowing boat on the River Vistula. It was a perfect late spring day with a pretty, soft blue sky and white clouds. The river flowed blue between its sandy banks. They rowed upstream for about an hour and a half - the boat was light and easy to row - and found a grassy bank with low willows and a view of a church in the distance with a red roof and slender spire. There they had a picnic lunch and relaxed, watching the boats and doing crosswords. Being very proper, Martin paid attention to Pilkie and attempted the Daily Mail crossword with her, while Emily settled down to share the scene in a letter to her Mother. Emily, incidentally, did not feel that the Daily Mail was a respectable paper; she preferred the Daily Telegraph. Martin took a photograph of Pilkie and Emily sitting on either side of a tree - and then cut the picture in half so that he could have Emily's photo in his flat. Another day Emily took a photograph of a very large statue commemorating Chopin, that stood in Lazinsky Park, and fortunately Martin was standing on the statue's plinth. The photograph was labelled in her album: 'Chopin and Mr Parsons.' Once when they were getting ready for the arrival of three visitors they had a bit of a flood in one of the rooms. When Emily and Martin joined in mopping up operations he imagined that they both had a feeling that their future might after all lie together. All was not quite plain sailing. Once Emily found Martin unhelpful over a visit that she and Pilkie had planned. Another day she was in a rage with him over Martha. He had asked that Martha be told not to have people ring her, because the telephone was in his flat. Emily felt that Martha was so good and willing that it was a small thing that she should be able to receive calls. Emily felt that Martin was being tyrannous, and that this was the kind of behaviour that had brought about the French Revolution. She almost said so, and would have felt better if she had got it off her chest. But after a while her anger subsided. They both kept very busy, and the end of the school year in June brought the end of English classes, and no need for Emily to stay in Poland. She packed up and went to Warsaw station, knowing well how much her mother had missed her. On the platform Martin asked her to come back after the summer break - for the sake of the work, of course! He suspected that her feelings had begun to change, and she almost agreed. Emily and her mother Evelyn had written to each other very frequently, all the time they were apart. At one point, indeed, Emily had been worried that her Mother was over-tired and had beeged her to write only once a week. They had both shared the small details of their lives. Emily knew all about the household details in Alders, the doings of Fanny the maid, Connor the gardener and even Psammy the cat, named after the Psammead in E. Nesbit's children's classic, Five Children and It. For her part Evelyn had heard a great deal about Warsaw, about individuals in the language classes, the workers in the Mission, friends and acquaintances in the English community. She had lived through Emily's worries about her heart - Emily decided after a few weeks that the pains were caused by indigestion. But Evelyn had also had a meeting with the retired Head of Mission, Mr Carpenter, which had stirred her and made her very happy. One Saturday afternoon she had cycled to a friend, Mrs Lewis Crosby. There she found several people playing tennis. While she watched, Mr Carpenter came out of the house. When they were introduced Mr Carpenter shook Evelyn warmly by the hand, took her elbow and held it, and seemed as if we would have embraced her if convention had allowed it. Out poured a stream of praise for Emily. They all love her, they all love her. If she had not come out, the whole work would have gone down (and he demonstrated with his outspread hands how it would have gone down). She is the diamond in our crown out there. She has a wonderful influence on them all. Someone said 'But she is so quiet', but that is the very thing that attracts them so, because they are the opposite.The one important thing that Evelyn had not been told was Martin's rejected proposal of marriage. Evelyn, however, was quite able to put two and two together, and made up her mind to inspect for herself the young man who was getting friendly with her daughter. Meanwhile the young man took a holiday with a bachelor colleague from Romania, in a beautiful mountain resort in the south of Poland, Zakopane, and took the equivalent of cold baths - long walks, and bathes in an ice-cold pool.  The autumn came, and so did Emily, with her mother. Mrs Wynne, with her own deep Christian faith and love for the Jewish people, helped in the English teaching, observed the respect and affection which everyone involved in the mission had for Emily, and had a shrewd idea that the head of the mission felt even more. Once she asked him what colour Emily's hair was, and Martin answered "I think it's golden." Since Emily's hair was raven black, Mrs Wynne was convinced that Martin was indeed in love. Martin, on his side, confided in a newly arrived colleague, Jakob Jocz, who was engaged and quickly became a close friend. He told Jakob of his love for Emily, and Jakob told him that it was obvious Miss Wynne was in love too. Although they both had old-fashioned ideas and there was no unbending in their attitude to each other, Martin and Emily in later years recalled the time at a children's party when he stood on his head, ostensibly to amuse the children but really to impress Miss Wynne. Martin and Emily by that time 'felt a sense of destiny about it all', and when, one Wednesday in early December, Martin managed to arrange that he and Miss Wynne should return from a tea party by taxi, he siezed his chance: "I still love you very much," he said. She replied, "I think I do too." They both felt bowled over. When, full of joy, they broke the news to Emily's mother, her first words were: "So you are going to take her away from me." But they thought she was pleased. Next day they told Pilkie, who was delighted - Jakob revealed that she had been praying for it to happen. The couple went for a walk in one of the city parks, and on the way back visited Grabowski's, a jeweller in the main shopping street, Nowy Swiat, to buy a diamond ring. Now the news was visible to all. The meeting of workers in the Mission House applauded. The Times, the Daily Telegraph and the Morning Post carried the announcement. Martin's father wrote from Weston super Mare of his delight. That was the best Christmas they had ever had. Emily was delighted with a string of red coral from her fiance. She wore it often, to the end of her life. The wedding date was settled: April 14th 1936, the Tuesday after Easter. Emily and her mother looked forward to it with joy, but Martin was plagued by agonising secret doubts. When he looked back in old age, he could not be too thankful that he did not give way to these doubts. In fact marriage gave him a peace and confidence that he had never known before. 
Emily chose as bridesmaids her cousin Hilda Dent from England and her friend Kitty Molyneux from Ireland.
Martin had a lawyer friend, Wilfred Robbins, as best man. 
A Warsaw friend escorted Emily into the Mission House church, which was full, and Mrs Wynne gave her daughter away. Jakob Jocz took the service. In his nervousness Martin tried to correct Jakob - when there was nothing to correct. The reception was held upstairs in the flat the Reverend and Mrs Martin Parsons were to move into. Guests included the recently appointed 58 year old British Ambassador, Sir Howard Kennard, who went on to urge a British-Polish mutual support agreement. In the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Anita J. Prazmowska writes "The signing on 25 August [1939] of a Polish–British agreement of mutual assistance was largely due to Kennard's persistent efforts."
Among the wedding presents was a silver tea service from Mappin and Webb, given by the British community and brought from England in the diplomatic bag.
Emily and Martin look stiff and expressionless in their single wedding photo, but their joy would last a lifetime.
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