IV
For a moment, I seemed frozen as did she. She was beautiful, blossomed into a young woman she had. I some how managed to speak, though my throat was dry and my voice trembling.
“L—Lynsay?” I asked, my voice just above a whisper. “Oh God, is it you?” I reached out and touched her cheek; her eyes were wide as she took my hand.
“Rachel?” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.
I remember not saying anything else, but taking her in my arms and holding her tight. I could feel her tears on my neck, soaking my collar; we said nothing, our sobs were all the words we needed. It must have been several minutes before we pulled apart, I remember even after we did we said nothing for another several minutes. I looked at her, she was a vision; I thought she favored mother. She was a hair shorter than I; with long honey-colored hair, a fair complexion, and, of course, those beautiful jade eyes that I had searched for in the faces of thousands of children. She had transformed from a tiny little sprout of a child, to a beautiful, shapely young woman. She told me later that my hair wasn't the light brown she remembered, but had changed to an auburn color or else she would have recognized me right away.
“Well, it seems as though you two know each other. So I'll take my leave, Rachel you can find me in the mess hall's kitchen when you're ready.” Emma replied, she was smiling at us both; she then turned and made her way to the mess hall.
We made our way back to the tree that Lynsay was originally sitting under.
“Rachel I always knew you would find me! Even when I was brought here, I knew that somehow you would find your way to me.”
“Oh Lynsay I can't comprehend to you how happy I am right now. How did you wind up so far outside of London? Be honest with me, I won't get upset I promise. I'm just so happy you're beside me again.” I embraced her again. She pulled away and looked down, she hesitated a minute and began to tell me of her journey to St. Columb:
“Well...after the bombing that night, I awoke in a hospital. Apparently I had a nasty gash between my shoulder blades, and had taken a sharp hit to the head.” She pulled her hair back to show me the scar from the laceration, it stretched horizontally from the top of one shoulder blade, to the bottom of another. I remember feeling ill and cursing myself for not making more of an effort to stay close to her.
“After I had healed up, they inquired about my family. I lied and said that I had been separated from them during the air-raid, that they were sure to be looking for me. I feared that if I had told them that it was just you and I, they wouldn't have let it slide as much. I awoke one night to overhear the nurse and doctor saying that they had someone coming from the city orphanage tomorrow to take me away. I got scared, I thought that if I went I would never see you again...maybe if I had gone with them...” she trailed off, turning her gaze to the creek.
“Lynsay darling you couldn't have known that I would have chosen the occupation that I did.” I said, taking her hand. “Don't feel responsible for anything...these were events that neither of us could have controlled...”
“I suppose you're right....anyway I ran away that night. I went back to the last place I saw you and backtracked. I thought that if I did that maybe someone could lead me to you. I gallivanted around, looking for you, and slept where I could. It wasn't until the bombings started to get terrible that I left the city, a group of other people my age were fleeing to the country. Most of them vowed to come back once the Germans left, I being one of them. We separated afterwords, I managed to find an abandoned shed a few miles away from here. I—I did have to steal Rachel....I had no money and I was awfully hungry...” she started to cry. “I know it was bad, but I promised that I would try to make up for it somehow...oh you must be so disgusted with me....”
“Oh my dear sister, I could never be disgusted with you....” I embraced her, stroking her hair. “You were doing what you had to in order to survive, I would've been so scared that I would've gotten caught.”
“Well...I did. That's how I wound up here. See, Dougan goes into town every day with things to sell from the garden if there's any to spare; which usually there isn't but it happened to be my saving grace that this one day there was.” she said plucking at the grass. “I hadn't eaten in quite some time and I was famished. My hunger clouded my judgment and I tried to steal a loaf of bread when I thought no one was looking. Well Dougan saw me, and tried as I did to escape, that man can bloody run.” she said, laughing a bit. I smiled, so Dougan was my sister's saving grace; I would have to be sure to talk to him about this next time I saw him.
“He caught me by the arm, I tried to fight back. I must have looked a fool, clawing and scratching at him as if it would do any good. He bound my hands, he told me it was for the safety of his eyes. He explained to me that if had only asked, he would have gladly given me the bread; now he had no other choice but to take me to the police. I begged him not to, I knew that I would never escape the police; I know now that he was only saying that for bargaining power, the sneaky Irishman.”
“Oh no dear, he's only half-Irish.” I smiled, earning me a laugh from Lynsay.
“Yes I know. As it turns out he told me that I had to come here and stay for three years in order to 'pay my dues' for stealing. I asked him how he knew I was going to stay, that I wasn't going to just run away in the cloak of night. He simply said that I had honest eyes and that if I had a lick of conscience or heart I wouldn't run. I know now that he saw how emaciated and sick I was, and he knew that I wouldn't have survived much longer in that pitiful little shack. I owe him my life...” she said, smiling at me.
“Well, I'll have to properly thank Dougan when I next see him. Tell me Lynsay, why did you tell them your name was Lyn?”
“I was scared that people were still looking for me so I shortened my name and didn't tell them my last name....at first I was scared that you wouldn't be able to find me, but something told me that you would so I didn't worry about it anymore.”
Before I could respond, the bell rang for supper; all of the children ran toward the mess hall, laughing and calling out to one another. Lynsay and I stood, linked arms and followed them; I stopped a few feet from the door, noticing a figure sulking beneath the willow on the far corner of the building.
“Is that Robby?” I asked Lynsay
“Yes, he always waits until everyone else is inside before he goes in. That way he can go in unnoticed, he's a bit of an odd duck. I know that he's been through something terrible but there's just something not quite right about him, like he's hiding something. I usually steer clear of him.”
“Why's that dear?”
“Because he tried to kiss me once, then when I said no he became...different. I can't describe it but it gave me the willies. Now I only associate with him when there's a lot of people around. Come on Rachel, I'm hungry and Mrs. Noll's making her roast beef tonight.” Lynsay tugged at my arm, I followed.
I still, even to this day, can see Robby sitting underneath that tree; though he was some distance away from us, I could still feel his eyes on us as we walked into the mess hall. Even now, I still wonder if I had followed my instinct then, if things would be different. Maybe the tragedies wouldn't have happened, maybe I could have done something for him. We mustn't dwell on the past, that's what they say, we must learn from our mistakes and move on. That's what the sycophants say when they don't know what else to say; they give empty advice in order to say that they did their best for you
I wonder what they would say if they knew what I know now or had seen what I had.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
St. Columb - Chapter Three
III
Mrs. Noll and her daughter Grace were there to meet me at the door; Dougan dutifully took my bags up to the room I would be staying in. I remember immediately liking Mrs. Noll, she was younger than I expected; she was most likely in her late thirties. Her face still maintained a youthful glow that was framed by dark red hair; she had fine features and pale, pink lips that a brilliant white smile hid behind. Her bright blue eyes were full of patience and kindness. Grace was a carbon copy of her mother, I dare say she was a mirror image of what Emma Noll might have looked when she was younger.
“Rachel Winter, I am Emma Noll.” she said, embracing me and kissing my cheek.
“Mrs. Noll it is so good to finally meet you in person. You have no idea what an honor this is.”
“Call me Emma. Oh please, you're doing us an honor by coming here to our little orphanage. This is my daughter Grace, I wouldn't be able to do much without her.” she said putting her arm around her daughter. Grace stepped forward and shook my hand.
“Hello Miss. Winter, it's such a pleasure to meet you.” she said, smiling shyly.
“You may call me Rachel. Miss Winter is far too formal, besides I have a feeling we'll all be friends before long.”
“Alright Miss—I mean Rachel.” She replied, her smile getting wider.
“Come inside, I've prepared a small meal for you. I knew you would be hungry after that long train ride.” Emma said, putting her arm around me.
“Oh thank you so much, I am rather hungry.”
“Afterward we can show you around, but not before you eat.”
“Its like you read my thoughts.” I smiled
The main house, where I would be staying, was a large, three story farm house. It had a spacious den with a large fireplace and rather impressive library; the den led into the kitchen which wasn't as big as one would think after seeing the den, but it was cozy. I was seated at the table and was educated on what Emma's interpretation of a 'small' meal was. I was served a glorious helping of homemade beef stew, accompanied by generous slices of fresh-baked bread, a fresh salad and warm apple cider.
“This is wonderful Emma, really how do you manage to feed all of these children, and now me?”
“Well as you know I can't turn a child away, I would never be able to live with myself. When food started to become an issue I began to grow my own. All of our vegetables and dairy are farm fresh, I had Dougan build a small greenhouse to keep the garden in a growing season a bit longer than normal and we have three dairy cows and about fifteen chickens. We still have to rely on the market for food, especially during the colder months when the garden isn't prospering as much, but growing our own food alone saved a bundle. It also allowed me to store some money away in case of an emergency. That's something that the children don't know.”
“Astonishing, absolutely astonishing Emma! Your resourcefulness is something to be admired.”
“Oh please dearie you're giving me too much credit, when one has eighty children in addition to her own to look after one has no choice but to be resourceful.” she laughed. “Well I see that you've eaten everything, it's good to see a young woman with a healthy appetite. Shall I show you to your room then around the orphanage?”
“Yes, I would quite enjoy that.”
My room was small, but very comfortable; the bed was in the far corner next to the window, one could sit there and look out over the creek that flowed into the forest. I had my own bathroom and a rather spacious closet and dressing table.
“I hope this is suitable for you.”
“Oh yes very much, its much better than some of the previous lodging's I've had on assignments.”
“I thought you would prefer a room away from the children. While I do adore them, I am so grateful to be able to come up to the house and relish in the peace and quiet.” Emma laughed “My room is just down the hall, and Grace's is right next door. Dougan sleeps in the attic, the stairs are located at the end of the hall here. If you ever need anything, just knock on one of our doors and don't hesitate! We don't expect you to know everything my dear.”
“That's good to know. Now, if you don't mind, could we go and see the children?”
“Of course my dear. Come on then.”
I can't describe what an excitement I felt in that moment, it was quite childish really knowing what I know now. However I tried to maintain my professional demeanor, I was after all here on a rather difficult assignment. Doctor Yellan informed me that in order to consider this trip worthwhile, I would have to make sure that at least twenty or thirty children would go to good homes. It doesn't sound like much but when you consider the location being miles from any sort of city, well it adds a rather beastly challenge.
The orphanage was built on a large area of land behind Emma's house, standing four stories; it was a humble looking building of a rectangular architecture and had a tin roof. Though the building from the outside looked rather gloomy, once you entered the doors it was like a whole new world. The downstairs area was sectioned off into four parts; the first part was somewhat of a makeshift school, complete with desks and chairs, along with a chalkboard and a few books. The second part was the mess hall, which had several long tables accompanied by chairs, and a large open kitchen in the back. The third part a reading and indoor play area, reserved for the older or quieter children; it boasted several books, games and a humble fireplace. The fourth part was housing for the staff, which was about twenty-five or so; there were two cooks, a nurse, a schoolmaster, and a head governess along with several others who simply provided companionship for the children. The next three floors were reserved for housing for the children; their ages ranged from two to seventeen, once they turned eighteen they had to be sent into the city to learn how to work and earn a living. I was amazed at how such a tiny orphanage could be so resourceful; I found later that Emma Noll was no mouse. If something was needed for those children, she would fight tooth and nail until she got it.
Emma showed me the layout of each room before taking me upstairs to show me the childrens' living quarters, which were very acceptable despite the influx of children. As we reached the top floor, I noticed a boy sitting in the window at the end of the hallway.
“Who is that? Is he one of the older ones?” I asked her quietly
“Oh yes, that's little Robby Spaniel. Though he's not quite little anymore, he used to be a gangly thing I would imagine he's about seventeen now. He was brought here when he was quite young and was nothing but skin and bones. His parents were murdered by Nazi's when they invaded his home, the poor dear saw it all so he doesn't say much; he's a bit of a worry to me because he always seems to be brooding on something.”
“Would it be alright if I were to go and have a word with him?”
“Oh no, not at all. He is very shy though, just to be warned.”
I made my way toward the end of the hallway, upon hearing my footsteps he looked my way. He seemed to quiver a bit so I made sure that my movements were slow and calm.
“Hello, is it alright if I sit here?” I asked quietly, smiling at him. He shook his head and pulled his feet into his chest to make room for me. I'll never forget his face, it will be etched in my mind until the day I die. My first impression was a boy who hadn't quite reached the end of puberty. He was a little homely with brown eyes, one of them lazy and he had greasy brown hair that was kept short. His complexion was pale, with thin lips that hid his crooked teeth; his ears added a comical aspect to his body as they stuck out away from his head. His body was still gangly, but his arms indicated that he did do some sort of lifting.
“My name is Rachel, might I inquire yours?” I asked him as I sat down. He glanced at me sideways, unsure of what to make of me.
“Robby.” he said quietly.
“Well Robby it's awfully nice to meet you. I'm not bothering you am I?”
“N—no...I was just...thinking. I sit here everyday in the afternoon.”
“It is a pleasant place, it seems very peaceful.”
“I—it is....I like it. If you don't m—mind my asking Miss, where did you come from?”
“I don't mind at all. I came from London, I'm a social worker.”
“A—are you the one t—that's going to help Mrs. Emma for a while?”
“Yes I am. I'm going to make sure that you all go to loving homes and are comfortable here.”
“Y—You're not going to send me away are you?”
“Send you away?”
“Y—yes....send me away from here....”
“I'm not sure I understand Robby....”
“This is my home. I don't want any other.” and with that he quietly got up and walked down the hallway, acknowledging Emma as he went down the stairs. Emma sighed and sat down next to me.
“He's been our biggest challenge, he arrived here four years ago and for the first few months we couldn't get him to say two words or play with the other children. He soon came into his own in time but he's been adamant about not leaving. I think he's afraid to, this has been the only solid home he's known, and with him witnessing such an event as he has...well part of me feels for the boy. However I can't keep him here for much longer, he's going to turn eighteen in the summer.”
“Well perhaps I can help with him. I've had experiences with children like him in the past, maybe I can get him to see reason.”
“Oh that would be a miracle.” Emma laughed and stood. “Well come on then, let me show you out back. That's where most of the children are right now.”
I was shown out back, which boasted an impressive playground and an open field. Most of the children were either on the equipment or playing a game of cricket out in the field; however some of them were reading underneath the shade of the trees that ran along the creek. I felt such a feeling of joy then, seeing the children playing gave me a sense of utter delight and reminded me how innocent life can be. As I was surveying the landscape, a particular girl sitting close-by caught my eye; she was reading at the foot of a mighty spruce that sat close to the riverbank. Emma caught my glance and smiled,
“That's Lyn. She's been here for about three years, she's also about seventeen.”
My heart stopped, I must have looked pale because I felt Emma's hand gently grasp my arm.
“Rachel darling are you alright? You look ill all of a sudden.”
“W—what did you say her name was? And her age?”
“She calls herself Lyn, she's seventeen. Why do you ask?”
Before I could answer I saw her stand, she turned to face us. She was slightly shorter than I, with honey colored hair; I wanted to signal her to come this way, but she was already walking toward us her attention still to her book.
“Lyn darling, come here there's someone I want you to meet.”
My heart began to race as she made her way toward us; it couldn't be, it just couldn't. She stopped to give Emma a hug, when she turned her attention to me I noticed the color of her eyes. They were a unique shade, much like mine.
Mrs. Noll and her daughter Grace were there to meet me at the door; Dougan dutifully took my bags up to the room I would be staying in. I remember immediately liking Mrs. Noll, she was younger than I expected; she was most likely in her late thirties. Her face still maintained a youthful glow that was framed by dark red hair; she had fine features and pale, pink lips that a brilliant white smile hid behind. Her bright blue eyes were full of patience and kindness. Grace was a carbon copy of her mother, I dare say she was a mirror image of what Emma Noll might have looked when she was younger.
“Rachel Winter, I am Emma Noll.” she said, embracing me and kissing my cheek.
“Mrs. Noll it is so good to finally meet you in person. You have no idea what an honor this is.”
“Call me Emma. Oh please, you're doing us an honor by coming here to our little orphanage. This is my daughter Grace, I wouldn't be able to do much without her.” she said putting her arm around her daughter. Grace stepped forward and shook my hand.
“Hello Miss. Winter, it's such a pleasure to meet you.” she said, smiling shyly.
“You may call me Rachel. Miss Winter is far too formal, besides I have a feeling we'll all be friends before long.”
“Alright Miss—I mean Rachel.” She replied, her smile getting wider.
“Come inside, I've prepared a small meal for you. I knew you would be hungry after that long train ride.” Emma said, putting her arm around me.
“Oh thank you so much, I am rather hungry.”
“Afterward we can show you around, but not before you eat.”
“Its like you read my thoughts.” I smiled
The main house, where I would be staying, was a large, three story farm house. It had a spacious den with a large fireplace and rather impressive library; the den led into the kitchen which wasn't as big as one would think after seeing the den, but it was cozy. I was seated at the table and was educated on what Emma's interpretation of a 'small' meal was. I was served a glorious helping of homemade beef stew, accompanied by generous slices of fresh-baked bread, a fresh salad and warm apple cider.
“This is wonderful Emma, really how do you manage to feed all of these children, and now me?”
“Well as you know I can't turn a child away, I would never be able to live with myself. When food started to become an issue I began to grow my own. All of our vegetables and dairy are farm fresh, I had Dougan build a small greenhouse to keep the garden in a growing season a bit longer than normal and we have three dairy cows and about fifteen chickens. We still have to rely on the market for food, especially during the colder months when the garden isn't prospering as much, but growing our own food alone saved a bundle. It also allowed me to store some money away in case of an emergency. That's something that the children don't know.”
“Astonishing, absolutely astonishing Emma! Your resourcefulness is something to be admired.”
“Oh please dearie you're giving me too much credit, when one has eighty children in addition to her own to look after one has no choice but to be resourceful.” she laughed. “Well I see that you've eaten everything, it's good to see a young woman with a healthy appetite. Shall I show you to your room then around the orphanage?”
“Yes, I would quite enjoy that.”
My room was small, but very comfortable; the bed was in the far corner next to the window, one could sit there and look out over the creek that flowed into the forest. I had my own bathroom and a rather spacious closet and dressing table.
“I hope this is suitable for you.”
“Oh yes very much, its much better than some of the previous lodging's I've had on assignments.”
“I thought you would prefer a room away from the children. While I do adore them, I am so grateful to be able to come up to the house and relish in the peace and quiet.” Emma laughed “My room is just down the hall, and Grace's is right next door. Dougan sleeps in the attic, the stairs are located at the end of the hall here. If you ever need anything, just knock on one of our doors and don't hesitate! We don't expect you to know everything my dear.”
“That's good to know. Now, if you don't mind, could we go and see the children?”
“Of course my dear. Come on then.”
I can't describe what an excitement I felt in that moment, it was quite childish really knowing what I know now. However I tried to maintain my professional demeanor, I was after all here on a rather difficult assignment. Doctor Yellan informed me that in order to consider this trip worthwhile, I would have to make sure that at least twenty or thirty children would go to good homes. It doesn't sound like much but when you consider the location being miles from any sort of city, well it adds a rather beastly challenge.
The orphanage was built on a large area of land behind Emma's house, standing four stories; it was a humble looking building of a rectangular architecture and had a tin roof. Though the building from the outside looked rather gloomy, once you entered the doors it was like a whole new world. The downstairs area was sectioned off into four parts; the first part was somewhat of a makeshift school, complete with desks and chairs, along with a chalkboard and a few books. The second part was the mess hall, which had several long tables accompanied by chairs, and a large open kitchen in the back. The third part a reading and indoor play area, reserved for the older or quieter children; it boasted several books, games and a humble fireplace. The fourth part was housing for the staff, which was about twenty-five or so; there were two cooks, a nurse, a schoolmaster, and a head governess along with several others who simply provided companionship for the children. The next three floors were reserved for housing for the children; their ages ranged from two to seventeen, once they turned eighteen they had to be sent into the city to learn how to work and earn a living. I was amazed at how such a tiny orphanage could be so resourceful; I found later that Emma Noll was no mouse. If something was needed for those children, she would fight tooth and nail until she got it.
Emma showed me the layout of each room before taking me upstairs to show me the childrens' living quarters, which were very acceptable despite the influx of children. As we reached the top floor, I noticed a boy sitting in the window at the end of the hallway.
“Who is that? Is he one of the older ones?” I asked her quietly
“Oh yes, that's little Robby Spaniel. Though he's not quite little anymore, he used to be a gangly thing I would imagine he's about seventeen now. He was brought here when he was quite young and was nothing but skin and bones. His parents were murdered by Nazi's when they invaded his home, the poor dear saw it all so he doesn't say much; he's a bit of a worry to me because he always seems to be brooding on something.”
“Would it be alright if I were to go and have a word with him?”
“Oh no, not at all. He is very shy though, just to be warned.”
I made my way toward the end of the hallway, upon hearing my footsteps he looked my way. He seemed to quiver a bit so I made sure that my movements were slow and calm.
“Hello, is it alright if I sit here?” I asked quietly, smiling at him. He shook his head and pulled his feet into his chest to make room for me. I'll never forget his face, it will be etched in my mind until the day I die. My first impression was a boy who hadn't quite reached the end of puberty. He was a little homely with brown eyes, one of them lazy and he had greasy brown hair that was kept short. His complexion was pale, with thin lips that hid his crooked teeth; his ears added a comical aspect to his body as they stuck out away from his head. His body was still gangly, but his arms indicated that he did do some sort of lifting.
“My name is Rachel, might I inquire yours?” I asked him as I sat down. He glanced at me sideways, unsure of what to make of me.
“Robby.” he said quietly.
“Well Robby it's awfully nice to meet you. I'm not bothering you am I?”
“N—no...I was just...thinking. I sit here everyday in the afternoon.”
“It is a pleasant place, it seems very peaceful.”
“I—it is....I like it. If you don't m—mind my asking Miss, where did you come from?”
“I don't mind at all. I came from London, I'm a social worker.”
“A—are you the one t—that's going to help Mrs. Emma for a while?”
“Yes I am. I'm going to make sure that you all go to loving homes and are comfortable here.”
“Y—You're not going to send me away are you?”
“Send you away?”
“Y—yes....send me away from here....”
“I'm not sure I understand Robby....”
“This is my home. I don't want any other.” and with that he quietly got up and walked down the hallway, acknowledging Emma as he went down the stairs. Emma sighed and sat down next to me.
“He's been our biggest challenge, he arrived here four years ago and for the first few months we couldn't get him to say two words or play with the other children. He soon came into his own in time but he's been adamant about not leaving. I think he's afraid to, this has been the only solid home he's known, and with him witnessing such an event as he has...well part of me feels for the boy. However I can't keep him here for much longer, he's going to turn eighteen in the summer.”
“Well perhaps I can help with him. I've had experiences with children like him in the past, maybe I can get him to see reason.”
“Oh that would be a miracle.” Emma laughed and stood. “Well come on then, let me show you out back. That's where most of the children are right now.”
I was shown out back, which boasted an impressive playground and an open field. Most of the children were either on the equipment or playing a game of cricket out in the field; however some of them were reading underneath the shade of the trees that ran along the creek. I felt such a feeling of joy then, seeing the children playing gave me a sense of utter delight and reminded me how innocent life can be. As I was surveying the landscape, a particular girl sitting close-by caught my eye; she was reading at the foot of a mighty spruce that sat close to the riverbank. Emma caught my glance and smiled,
“That's Lyn. She's been here for about three years, she's also about seventeen.”
My heart stopped, I must have looked pale because I felt Emma's hand gently grasp my arm.
“Rachel darling are you alright? You look ill all of a sudden.”
“W—what did you say her name was? And her age?”
“She calls herself Lyn, she's seventeen. Why do you ask?”
Before I could answer I saw her stand, she turned to face us. She was slightly shorter than I, with honey colored hair; I wanted to signal her to come this way, but she was already walking toward us her attention still to her book.
“Lyn darling, come here there's someone I want you to meet.”
My heart began to race as she made her way toward us; it couldn't be, it just couldn't. She stopped to give Emma a hug, when she turned her attention to me I noticed the color of her eyes. They were a unique shade, much like mine.
Veering off a bit
So yesterday's post was a bit rushed. I was intent on getting all of my posts that weren't linked to this blog deleted from my facebook account. Apparently the company reserve the right to retain everything you post on your profile even if you delete your profile. I was deleting all of my poems, short stories, etc. from there and I was so intent on posting the story I posted yesterday that I forgot to explain the concept of it.
The story itself is a product of an incredibly delightfully dark and twisted idea that my father gave me. I'm not going to go into detail because I figure everyone is like me and can figure out the plot with only a few hints.
I plan on posting a few of my other stories and poetry on here as soon as this story is finished.
Stay tuned for Chapter 3, I plan to have it posted sometime tonight, possibly later tomorrow.
The story itself is a product of an incredibly delightfully dark and twisted idea that my father gave me. I'm not going to go into detail because I figure everyone is like me and can figure out the plot with only a few hints.
I plan on posting a few of my other stories and poetry on here as soon as this story is finished.
Stay tuned for Chapter 3, I plan to have it posted sometime tonight, possibly later tomorrow.
Monday, March 22, 2010
St. Columb - Prologue, Chapter's One and Two
Prologue
Its the same dream over and over again; I feel rain stung my eyes, smell the scent of fresh earth as I race through the underbrush, and cry out as the branches claw at my body. I can hear my pursuer quickly catching up with me; his maniacal laughter echoes over the sound of the rain and wind. I somehow muster the strength to run faster, now hearing nothing but the pounding of my heart and my pursuers crazed cackles. If I can just get to the road I'll be able to get help...Just a little farther...make it to the road, come on....make it to the bloody road!
His animal-like eyes and laughter haunt me as I awake in a cold sweat, finding myself safely in my bed with my husband. It's strange how the memories you wish would disappear stay with you. You're left with a scar deeper than any flesh wound, to which there is no healing ointment. Sometimes I wonder if I somehow share the responsibility for my state. Why didn't I see it before? Why wasn't I more persistent in my finding? Maybe if I had been...
Well, I'm getting ahead of my story. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Rachel, Rachel Winter. I was born in Manchester in 1922 and moved to London when I was quite young; I had a rather pleasant childhood, there were no foul memories until the Great War started. I was eighteen at the time and my father was lucky enough to avoid the draft but that couldn't stop him from helping his countrymen. Both he and my mother aided the troops in London; our house became a sanctuary for all those who were wounded. When that horrid Blitz started our house became less like a sanctuary and more like a place of death. My sister, Lynsay, and I helped our parents as best we could, but it was not enough.
My sister and I came home one day to find our house in ruins, destroyed by an air raid earlier that day. Our greatest fears were realised when we saw our parents being carried away on stretchers. Fearing that Lynsay would be removed from my care and thrown in an orphanage; thereby separating us forever, we ran away. For about a year we managed to survive, working in a soup kitchen in exchange for food and shelter we managed to carve out some sort of life. I promised Lynsay that I would protect her, and after this dreadful war was over we would try to make a normal life; I would finish my schooling and we would be able to survive off what meager earnings until I could get a real job.
On the sixth of March in 1943, I lost my sister; it was in the confusion of a nighttime air-raid that we were separated. I spent days, weeks searching for her but it was all for naught. I refused to believe that she was dead; something inside of my soul told me that she was still alive and I just couldn't ignore it. When the Germans surrendered in 1945, there was a need for social workers to aid the misplaced children of London. I immediately applied for the position, hoping that it would lead me to my sister. I trained for a year, and was soon able to go to orphanages on my own. I found I did enjoy the work, for it was very rewarding; however my main focus continued to be my reuniting with my sister.
It was in 1947 that I discovered an orphanage called St. Columb, located a mile or so outside of London. It was here where my journey would take an interesting turn, and a boy of seventeen would be responsible.....
His name was Robby.....
I
I can remember the day I was assigned to St. Columb very vividly. It was a crisp autumn day, absolutely gorgeous really; I was sitting in Doctor Richard Yellan's office waiting for him to sign the approval of my going to the tiny orphanage. Doctor Yellan was an incredibly kind man, he was responsible for most of my training and offered me housing in exchange for being a temporary governess to his young son. The office was remarkably comfortable and had a touch of home; pictures of his wife and son decorated the wall. I remember looking at them as he went over my file.
“Miss Winter,” he said, jolting me back to reality. “You're sure you want to go to St. Columb's orphanage?” he asked me.
“Yes sir, why do you ask?” I replied as I straightened my hat. I remember it being remarkably irritating that day.
“Its just that your resume is remarkable as well as your skill and you could get a position here in London, you wouldn't have to go through the hassle of moving into the country. Not only that but St. Columb's Orphanage is small, it won't—“ I politely silenced him by raising my hand.
“Doctor Yellan, I am well aware of the small hassle's that come with my choosing of St. Columb. While I'm sure the other places would further benefit my professional career, I would prefer to go to St. Columb's because that's where I am needed. That is where the highest percentage of children who lost their parents in the bombings are. Those are the children that are most deserving of a loving home.”
“Well there's no convincing you otherwise. All right then, I shall call Mrs. Emma Noll this afternoon; she is the one in charge up there.” he said to me, putting the files back in the folder. “An upstanding lady, she lost her husband in the war poor girl. She hit some rather beastly times after that.”
“Oh my, the poor dear. How did she come about running an orphanage?”
“Well Parliament noticed that she had quite a bit of land and offered to aid her in her finances in exchange that she harbor some of the children who lost their parents in the Blitz. She and her daughter Grace have been running the orphanage for two years now.”
“Why that's astonishing! I don't know if I would have the strength to do such a deed. I look forward to meeting her.”
“If I get a hold of Mrs. Noll, you may leave immediately in the morning. I must say Miss Winter that you are quite possibly one of the most driven students I've ever had the pleasure of teaching and employing.” he stood, placing the file in a cabinet. I remember that kind smile that brought me so much comfort each time I saw it.
“Thank you Doctor. I wouldn't have been able to have done any of this without your kindness. You truly have given me the ability to move on.” I replied, fighting back the tears that were so desperately trying to break free.
“Oh my dear girl. You're not giving yourself enough credit. You had the ability to move on all along, you just needed someone to push you in the right direction.” he walked around the desk and embraced me. He reminded me so much of my father, that I couldn't help but allow those tears to fall.
“You'll find her Rachel, don't loose hope.” he whispered.
“Thank you Doctor....”
I left the office in a splendid mood; I was certain that Doctor Yellan would get a hold of Mrs. Noll and I would leave early the next day. I had spent most of my training in and around London; I hadn't been as far out in the country as I would have liked to have been for my sister had to be there. Every single orphanage I went to, I found myself searching the faces of the children for my sister. She had to be about seventeen now, but I would know her. She had eyes exactly like mine: a unique shade of jade that we inherited from our mother. I wasn't certain if her hair was still the same blonde color, so I had to rely on that one single trait. Naturally if she wasn't at St. Columb, I would just serve my time there until they didn't require my services then I would simply keep searching; however I can distinctly remember feeling a pull towards this tiny orphanage that I had never seen, nor heard of until just two weeks prior. To this day I really can't explain it other than some sort of divine intervention.
My apartment was located about 2 kilometers away from Doctor Yellan's office so walking was my primary source of transportation, unless of course the weather was ghastly. It was a pleasant neighborhood, the residents were mostly elderly couples and small families; we all knew each other and looked out for one another. Miss Stewart, a kindly spinster, was my neighbor and somewhat of a surrogate grandmother. I always stopped to see her promptly at four o'clock, just in time for afternoon tea. Today was no different.
“Rachel darling you're late.” she said, wearing that familiar pink gingham apron over her usual blue dress; she was smiling, her eyes twinkled.
“I'm so sorry Miss Stewart, my appointment with Doctor Yellan lasted a bit longer than I thought. You're not going to turn me away I hope?” I replied, playfully pouting.
“Oh of course not dearie. Now come sit down before the tea turns stone cold.”
She had set up a lovely table on the balcony outside, I remember thinking how I hope to be as spirited as she when I'm the ripe age of seventy-five. We sat down in the comfortable chairs and she at once questioned me about my meeting.
“I thought it would be a travesty to sit inside on such a gorgeous afternoon. Well now don't be all steel-lipped darling, tell me about your appointment. What did Doctor Yellan say?” she asked, handing me a steaming cup of tea.
“At first he wasn't to keen on the idea of my going so far out of the city. He tried to talk me out of it by saying how a person with an impressive resume such as myself would be much better suited at one of the bigger orphanages here in London.”
“Well that's quite a compliment dear, but we both know you want to go to this orphanage—oh blast what's the name of it again? It's a bloody pain to get old sometimes.”
“St. Columb. I told him that was where I was needed, my passion has been giving the children who lost their homes and families in the bombings a new start. He, being the incredibly understanding man that he is, saw my point and is calling the owner of the orphanage as we speak. If he gets in touch with her today, I could leave as early as tomorrow morning.”
“Well cor blimey that's bloody fantastic! How long are you going to be there darling?”
“About two, possibly three months at the least. The last orphanage I was stationed, I worked there for almost a year. I don't think that will be the case with this one though. It's strange...I feel like this is where I need to go. Like I'm being pulled there by some other source greater than myself. Does that sound silly?”
“Oh no, no, no. My dear it doesn't sound silly at all! You're following through on your convictions, I can't think of anything more admiring. If you don't mind my saying so dear, I have a feeling that this will be the assignment that will bring you full circle.”
“You really think so Miss Stewart? You're not just pulling my leg are you?”
“No my dear, I really believe that. You're going to grow more than you ever have. I can guarantee it.”
I remember those words like they were just yesterday; to this day I will never know how Miss Stewart was blessed with the foresight of knowing just how much I would grow from this. I only wished she could have seen what I would have to experience before the growth would start.
II
Just as I had hoped, Doctor Yellan contacted me later that evening and told me that I was ready to go; I could leave the next morning, but I had until Friday to get there so there was no rush. Never being a patient woman about these sorts of things, I immediately began packing; I packed for three months, I thought that would be a sufficient amount of time to aid Mrs. Noll and her daughter with the influx of children that had come to the orphanage.
Perhaps I should explain how I found this tiny little orphanage. I was reading the Times about two weeks prior to my meeting with Doctor Yellan, I always would search for orphanages that needed the assistance of a social worker. You see the orphanages may have had sufficient staff and lodging but when it came to putting the children in good homes, they sometimes had a lapse in judgment. Mostly it was the simple fact that times were very tough; food and space were precious commodities and sometimes the orphanages were so intent on creating more space that they would overlook things they shouldn't. Enter the social worker, we provide the service of inspecting the family that wishes to adopt a child. If they meet the criteria, (mine were very strict, I wasn't going to let just anyone adopt a child) then they sign a form and are free to take the child home.
I came about a fascinating article about St. Columb located in Basildon, the reporter was interviewing Mrs. Noll about her recent increase in children at the orphanage; the orphanage itself is large enough to hold about fifty children, however in the past month or so that number has increased to almost eighty. Mrs. Noll, being the kind and compassionate woman she is, would not turn a child away from her doorstep. “Oh we'll manage somehow. We have before and we will again.” that's what she said in the article. Unfortunately, she didn't have the connections that they do in the city so the children were going unnoticed; while the food supply was dwindling. She was only given a certain amount each month by Parliament to supply food, clothing and other expenses; granted Parliament wasn't stingy by any means, but they weren't prepared to fund that many children. I was so moved by the article that I immediately brought it to Doctor Yellan's attention; I requested that, after my current assignment, I be placed in St. Columb.
I sent a wire to Mrs. Noll, telling her that I would arrive sometime in the afternoon tomorrow. Afterward I began to organise my files, I found myself unable to shake a feeling of enigma. Now I know what the feeling was but at the time I found myself excited, I loved that I felt a pull toward this place. It gave me hope that maybe the heavens were guiding me towards my precious Lynsay, that I would see her again and be able to fulfill the promises that I made to her. On the other hand, I felt a slight feeling of uncertainty; possibly even a bit of fear. These conflicting feelings made sleep impossible that night and before I knew it, it was time for me to get up and depart for the train station.
I managed to catch the early train to Basildon, which wasn't necessarily considered a town when I first arrived. You see in the 1940s, Billericay and Essex County Council, who were scared about the lack of amenities on the area and how it had evolved, petitioned the Government to create a New Town. Basildon was one of eight 'New Towns' created in the South East of England after the passing of the New Towns Act. On January 4 1949, Lewis Silkin, Minister of Town and Country Planning, officially designated Basildon as a 'New Town'. Basildon Development Corporation was formed in February 1949 to transform the designated area into a modern new town.
The train ride was a pleasant one, but dreadfully long. Basildon was much further outside of London than I had anticipated, I was glad that Doctor Yellan hadn't realized this or else he may not have let a young woman of twenty-four go on such a long journey by herself. I finally reached Basildon, and longing for a cup of tea I stopped in one of the small cafe's nearby. I left word at the train station for Mrs. Noll; she was going to be sending someone to meet me there so I didn't want them to think I hadn't come. I took my seat near the window and I relished in the warmth and comfort that the tea brought.
It wasn't long before I heard my name mentioned at the front of the cafe; a tall, handsome, dark-haired man was inquiring about me to the girl behind the counter. I assumed he was one of the workers sent by Mrs. Noll, finding myself staring at him I quickly turned my attention to the magazine in front of me, hiding my scarlet cheeks.
“Miss Winter?” his voice was soft, but I could hear the hint of Irish in it.
“Yes? Who's inquiring?”
“I'm Dougan, Dougan Bardwell.” he replied, sitting down and taking his cap off. “I've been sent here by Mrs. Noll, we received your wire last night. I have to say that everyone's excited for your arrival.”
“Its a pleasure Mr. Bardwell I—“
“Oh please, call me Dougan. Mr. Bardwell makes me feel like my father.” he laughed
“Well then Dougan, I am happy to be here. Shall we go then?”
“Oh don't rush, finish your tea. I'm sure you need it after coming all the way here from London.”
His smile was entrancing, showing off his chiseled jaw and white teeth. His shoulders were broad, leading me to believe that he spent most of his time doing work outdoors. His hair was thick and dark, it came down to the nape of his neck; he was cleanly shaven, and of a darker complexion. His hands had a few callouses on them, but they seemed to be gentle when they needed to be. The most hypnotizing feature about him were his eyes; despite his darker features, they were a bright blue like the sea. I found myself caught up in his gaze.
“Are you alright Miss Winter?”
“Yes, yes. I'm sorry I was just thinking about something.” I stammered, feeling quite a fool.
“Well are you ready? Its about another twenty minutes to St. Columb.” he said, flashing me another paralyzing smile.
“Yes, I think I'm quite ready.”
The ride to the orphanage was much more pleasant than the train ride to Basildon, I was certain it was the company I shared rather than the vehicle we were in.
“How long have you been working for Mrs. Noll Dougan? If you don't mind my inquiring that is.”
“Oh not at all. I've been with St. Columb since it opened. My parents were killed by a bomb they thought was deactivated and I was searching for something to do with my life. I heard about Mrs. Noll and her daughter comin' up on hard times, what with starting this orphanage and all, and I thought I would be of some service doin' somethin'.”
“How noble of you. Did you and your family come here from Ireland? I noticed you have a bit of an accent.”
“My mother did. She met my Da here in England and they got married. Don't worry, I'm only half-Irish.” he smiled
“Well that's a relief. For a minute there I thought I was in the company of a bloody Irishman.” I smiled, he laughed. It was rumored that the English and Irish had a rather nasty rivalry, you wouldn't have known from the lovely conversation that was going on it that car.
“How long have you been in this business of social work Miss Winter?”
“Rachel please, Miss Winter is so formal. I don't want anyone to think I'm unapproachable.”
“Alright then, Rachel.” he smiled at me again.
“I suppose its been almost two years now. I started when the Germans surrendered, and I've been in it ever since.”
“Spot on, why did you choose such an occupation? Let me know if I'm pryin', I don't mean to.”
I smiled, I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell him the real reason or just the generic 'oh I just love children and making them happy'. His eyes were so trusting though....
“I, well I went in it because...”
“Ah bloody hell I'm pryin', I apologize Rachel. You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”
“No, no its okay. You're not prying, you're just trying to make conversation. The main reason I chose this occupation was to find my sister. You see we were separated in a nighttime air-raid almost four years ago...” I stopped, trying to maintain composure. I was unsure why I was telling this story to a man I had just met twenty minutes ago.
“I'm sorry...so you think that someone picked her up and put her in an orphanages' care?”
“Yes, I refuse to believe she's dead. Something tells me she's not...I know that's silly.”
“No it's not, hope is such an uncommon thing these days. Its a relief to talk to someone who hasn't lost it. Most people who were separated from someone they loved durin' that damned Blitz have already assumed that they're dead. You have remarkable strength to go on believin' that your sister is alive.” he said, glancing at me.
“Thank you Dougan...you're one of the few who haven't assumed that she's dead or tell me it's a hopeless cause. And I really appreciate that.”
“Well I do what I can, those kids there are so full of hope and happiness. Some of them have come from the worse situations imaginable, seen things that kids shouldn't see; and yet they still carry this glimmer of faith that they'll get adopted by a loving home. I figure hell, I have no excuse not to have a little faith.” he smiled. “Oh look, we're coming up on St. Columb now.”
I remember the car coming to the top of the hill overlooking the beautiful landscape that surrounded the tiny orphanage, it seemed to almost envelope it. There was a creek that flowed from the back of the house and continued into the small forest that wrapped around the southern part of the property. Never in a thousand years, did I think that such horror could live in a place of serenity.
Its the same dream over and over again; I feel rain stung my eyes, smell the scent of fresh earth as I race through the underbrush, and cry out as the branches claw at my body. I can hear my pursuer quickly catching up with me; his maniacal laughter echoes over the sound of the rain and wind. I somehow muster the strength to run faster, now hearing nothing but the pounding of my heart and my pursuers crazed cackles. If I can just get to the road I'll be able to get help...Just a little farther...make it to the road, come on....make it to the bloody road!
His animal-like eyes and laughter haunt me as I awake in a cold sweat, finding myself safely in my bed with my husband. It's strange how the memories you wish would disappear stay with you. You're left with a scar deeper than any flesh wound, to which there is no healing ointment. Sometimes I wonder if I somehow share the responsibility for my state. Why didn't I see it before? Why wasn't I more persistent in my finding? Maybe if I had been...
Well, I'm getting ahead of my story. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Rachel, Rachel Winter. I was born in Manchester in 1922 and moved to London when I was quite young; I had a rather pleasant childhood, there were no foul memories until the Great War started. I was eighteen at the time and my father was lucky enough to avoid the draft but that couldn't stop him from helping his countrymen. Both he and my mother aided the troops in London; our house became a sanctuary for all those who were wounded. When that horrid Blitz started our house became less like a sanctuary and more like a place of death. My sister, Lynsay, and I helped our parents as best we could, but it was not enough.
My sister and I came home one day to find our house in ruins, destroyed by an air raid earlier that day. Our greatest fears were realised when we saw our parents being carried away on stretchers. Fearing that Lynsay would be removed from my care and thrown in an orphanage; thereby separating us forever, we ran away. For about a year we managed to survive, working in a soup kitchen in exchange for food and shelter we managed to carve out some sort of life. I promised Lynsay that I would protect her, and after this dreadful war was over we would try to make a normal life; I would finish my schooling and we would be able to survive off what meager earnings until I could get a real job.
On the sixth of March in 1943, I lost my sister; it was in the confusion of a nighttime air-raid that we were separated. I spent days, weeks searching for her but it was all for naught. I refused to believe that she was dead; something inside of my soul told me that she was still alive and I just couldn't ignore it. When the Germans surrendered in 1945, there was a need for social workers to aid the misplaced children of London. I immediately applied for the position, hoping that it would lead me to my sister. I trained for a year, and was soon able to go to orphanages on my own. I found I did enjoy the work, for it was very rewarding; however my main focus continued to be my reuniting with my sister.
It was in 1947 that I discovered an orphanage called St. Columb, located a mile or so outside of London. It was here where my journey would take an interesting turn, and a boy of seventeen would be responsible.....
His name was Robby.....
I
I can remember the day I was assigned to St. Columb very vividly. It was a crisp autumn day, absolutely gorgeous really; I was sitting in Doctor Richard Yellan's office waiting for him to sign the approval of my going to the tiny orphanage. Doctor Yellan was an incredibly kind man, he was responsible for most of my training and offered me housing in exchange for being a temporary governess to his young son. The office was remarkably comfortable and had a touch of home; pictures of his wife and son decorated the wall. I remember looking at them as he went over my file.
“Miss Winter,” he said, jolting me back to reality. “You're sure you want to go to St. Columb's orphanage?” he asked me.
“Yes sir, why do you ask?” I replied as I straightened my hat. I remember it being remarkably irritating that day.
“Its just that your resume is remarkable as well as your skill and you could get a position here in London, you wouldn't have to go through the hassle of moving into the country. Not only that but St. Columb's Orphanage is small, it won't—“ I politely silenced him by raising my hand.
“Doctor Yellan, I am well aware of the small hassle's that come with my choosing of St. Columb. While I'm sure the other places would further benefit my professional career, I would prefer to go to St. Columb's because that's where I am needed. That is where the highest percentage of children who lost their parents in the bombings are. Those are the children that are most deserving of a loving home.”
“Well there's no convincing you otherwise. All right then, I shall call Mrs. Emma Noll this afternoon; she is the one in charge up there.” he said to me, putting the files back in the folder. “An upstanding lady, she lost her husband in the war poor girl. She hit some rather beastly times after that.”
“Oh my, the poor dear. How did she come about running an orphanage?”
“Well Parliament noticed that she had quite a bit of land and offered to aid her in her finances in exchange that she harbor some of the children who lost their parents in the Blitz. She and her daughter Grace have been running the orphanage for two years now.”
“Why that's astonishing! I don't know if I would have the strength to do such a deed. I look forward to meeting her.”
“If I get a hold of Mrs. Noll, you may leave immediately in the morning. I must say Miss Winter that you are quite possibly one of the most driven students I've ever had the pleasure of teaching and employing.” he stood, placing the file in a cabinet. I remember that kind smile that brought me so much comfort each time I saw it.
“Thank you Doctor. I wouldn't have been able to have done any of this without your kindness. You truly have given me the ability to move on.” I replied, fighting back the tears that were so desperately trying to break free.
“Oh my dear girl. You're not giving yourself enough credit. You had the ability to move on all along, you just needed someone to push you in the right direction.” he walked around the desk and embraced me. He reminded me so much of my father, that I couldn't help but allow those tears to fall.
“You'll find her Rachel, don't loose hope.” he whispered.
“Thank you Doctor....”
I left the office in a splendid mood; I was certain that Doctor Yellan would get a hold of Mrs. Noll and I would leave early the next day. I had spent most of my training in and around London; I hadn't been as far out in the country as I would have liked to have been for my sister had to be there. Every single orphanage I went to, I found myself searching the faces of the children for my sister. She had to be about seventeen now, but I would know her. She had eyes exactly like mine: a unique shade of jade that we inherited from our mother. I wasn't certain if her hair was still the same blonde color, so I had to rely on that one single trait. Naturally if she wasn't at St. Columb, I would just serve my time there until they didn't require my services then I would simply keep searching; however I can distinctly remember feeling a pull towards this tiny orphanage that I had never seen, nor heard of until just two weeks prior. To this day I really can't explain it other than some sort of divine intervention.
My apartment was located about 2 kilometers away from Doctor Yellan's office so walking was my primary source of transportation, unless of course the weather was ghastly. It was a pleasant neighborhood, the residents were mostly elderly couples and small families; we all knew each other and looked out for one another. Miss Stewart, a kindly spinster, was my neighbor and somewhat of a surrogate grandmother. I always stopped to see her promptly at four o'clock, just in time for afternoon tea. Today was no different.
“Rachel darling you're late.” she said, wearing that familiar pink gingham apron over her usual blue dress; she was smiling, her eyes twinkled.
“I'm so sorry Miss Stewart, my appointment with Doctor Yellan lasted a bit longer than I thought. You're not going to turn me away I hope?” I replied, playfully pouting.
“Oh of course not dearie. Now come sit down before the tea turns stone cold.”
She had set up a lovely table on the balcony outside, I remember thinking how I hope to be as spirited as she when I'm the ripe age of seventy-five. We sat down in the comfortable chairs and she at once questioned me about my meeting.
“I thought it would be a travesty to sit inside on such a gorgeous afternoon. Well now don't be all steel-lipped darling, tell me about your appointment. What did Doctor Yellan say?” she asked, handing me a steaming cup of tea.
“At first he wasn't to keen on the idea of my going so far out of the city. He tried to talk me out of it by saying how a person with an impressive resume such as myself would be much better suited at one of the bigger orphanages here in London.”
“Well that's quite a compliment dear, but we both know you want to go to this orphanage—oh blast what's the name of it again? It's a bloody pain to get old sometimes.”
“St. Columb. I told him that was where I was needed, my passion has been giving the children who lost their homes and families in the bombings a new start. He, being the incredibly understanding man that he is, saw my point and is calling the owner of the orphanage as we speak. If he gets in touch with her today, I could leave as early as tomorrow morning.”
“Well cor blimey that's bloody fantastic! How long are you going to be there darling?”
“About two, possibly three months at the least. The last orphanage I was stationed, I worked there for almost a year. I don't think that will be the case with this one though. It's strange...I feel like this is where I need to go. Like I'm being pulled there by some other source greater than myself. Does that sound silly?”
“Oh no, no, no. My dear it doesn't sound silly at all! You're following through on your convictions, I can't think of anything more admiring. If you don't mind my saying so dear, I have a feeling that this will be the assignment that will bring you full circle.”
“You really think so Miss Stewart? You're not just pulling my leg are you?”
“No my dear, I really believe that. You're going to grow more than you ever have. I can guarantee it.”
I remember those words like they were just yesterday; to this day I will never know how Miss Stewart was blessed with the foresight of knowing just how much I would grow from this. I only wished she could have seen what I would have to experience before the growth would start.
II
Just as I had hoped, Doctor Yellan contacted me later that evening and told me that I was ready to go; I could leave the next morning, but I had until Friday to get there so there was no rush. Never being a patient woman about these sorts of things, I immediately began packing; I packed for three months, I thought that would be a sufficient amount of time to aid Mrs. Noll and her daughter with the influx of children that had come to the orphanage.
Perhaps I should explain how I found this tiny little orphanage. I was reading the Times about two weeks prior to my meeting with Doctor Yellan, I always would search for orphanages that needed the assistance of a social worker. You see the orphanages may have had sufficient staff and lodging but when it came to putting the children in good homes, they sometimes had a lapse in judgment. Mostly it was the simple fact that times were very tough; food and space were precious commodities and sometimes the orphanages were so intent on creating more space that they would overlook things they shouldn't. Enter the social worker, we provide the service of inspecting the family that wishes to adopt a child. If they meet the criteria, (mine were very strict, I wasn't going to let just anyone adopt a child) then they sign a form and are free to take the child home.
I came about a fascinating article about St. Columb located in Basildon, the reporter was interviewing Mrs. Noll about her recent increase in children at the orphanage; the orphanage itself is large enough to hold about fifty children, however in the past month or so that number has increased to almost eighty. Mrs. Noll, being the kind and compassionate woman she is, would not turn a child away from her doorstep. “Oh we'll manage somehow. We have before and we will again.” that's what she said in the article. Unfortunately, she didn't have the connections that they do in the city so the children were going unnoticed; while the food supply was dwindling. She was only given a certain amount each month by Parliament to supply food, clothing and other expenses; granted Parliament wasn't stingy by any means, but they weren't prepared to fund that many children. I was so moved by the article that I immediately brought it to Doctor Yellan's attention; I requested that, after my current assignment, I be placed in St. Columb.
I sent a wire to Mrs. Noll, telling her that I would arrive sometime in the afternoon tomorrow. Afterward I began to organise my files, I found myself unable to shake a feeling of enigma. Now I know what the feeling was but at the time I found myself excited, I loved that I felt a pull toward this place. It gave me hope that maybe the heavens were guiding me towards my precious Lynsay, that I would see her again and be able to fulfill the promises that I made to her. On the other hand, I felt a slight feeling of uncertainty; possibly even a bit of fear. These conflicting feelings made sleep impossible that night and before I knew it, it was time for me to get up and depart for the train station.
I managed to catch the early train to Basildon, which wasn't necessarily considered a town when I first arrived. You see in the 1940s, Billericay and Essex County Council, who were scared about the lack of amenities on the area and how it had evolved, petitioned the Government to create a New Town. Basildon was one of eight 'New Towns' created in the South East of England after the passing of the New Towns Act. On January 4 1949, Lewis Silkin, Minister of Town and Country Planning, officially designated Basildon as a 'New Town'. Basildon Development Corporation was formed in February 1949 to transform the designated area into a modern new town.
The train ride was a pleasant one, but dreadfully long. Basildon was much further outside of London than I had anticipated, I was glad that Doctor Yellan hadn't realized this or else he may not have let a young woman of twenty-four go on such a long journey by herself. I finally reached Basildon, and longing for a cup of tea I stopped in one of the small cafe's nearby. I left word at the train station for Mrs. Noll; she was going to be sending someone to meet me there so I didn't want them to think I hadn't come. I took my seat near the window and I relished in the warmth and comfort that the tea brought.
It wasn't long before I heard my name mentioned at the front of the cafe; a tall, handsome, dark-haired man was inquiring about me to the girl behind the counter. I assumed he was one of the workers sent by Mrs. Noll, finding myself staring at him I quickly turned my attention to the magazine in front of me, hiding my scarlet cheeks.
“Miss Winter?” his voice was soft, but I could hear the hint of Irish in it.
“Yes? Who's inquiring?”
“I'm Dougan, Dougan Bardwell.” he replied, sitting down and taking his cap off. “I've been sent here by Mrs. Noll, we received your wire last night. I have to say that everyone's excited for your arrival.”
“Its a pleasure Mr. Bardwell I—“
“Oh please, call me Dougan. Mr. Bardwell makes me feel like my father.” he laughed
“Well then Dougan, I am happy to be here. Shall we go then?”
“Oh don't rush, finish your tea. I'm sure you need it after coming all the way here from London.”
His smile was entrancing, showing off his chiseled jaw and white teeth. His shoulders were broad, leading me to believe that he spent most of his time doing work outdoors. His hair was thick and dark, it came down to the nape of his neck; he was cleanly shaven, and of a darker complexion. His hands had a few callouses on them, but they seemed to be gentle when they needed to be. The most hypnotizing feature about him were his eyes; despite his darker features, they were a bright blue like the sea. I found myself caught up in his gaze.
“Are you alright Miss Winter?”
“Yes, yes. I'm sorry I was just thinking about something.” I stammered, feeling quite a fool.
“Well are you ready? Its about another twenty minutes to St. Columb.” he said, flashing me another paralyzing smile.
“Yes, I think I'm quite ready.”
The ride to the orphanage was much more pleasant than the train ride to Basildon, I was certain it was the company I shared rather than the vehicle we were in.
“How long have you been working for Mrs. Noll Dougan? If you don't mind my inquiring that is.”
“Oh not at all. I've been with St. Columb since it opened. My parents were killed by a bomb they thought was deactivated and I was searching for something to do with my life. I heard about Mrs. Noll and her daughter comin' up on hard times, what with starting this orphanage and all, and I thought I would be of some service doin' somethin'.”
“How noble of you. Did you and your family come here from Ireland? I noticed you have a bit of an accent.”
“My mother did. She met my Da here in England and they got married. Don't worry, I'm only half-Irish.” he smiled
“Well that's a relief. For a minute there I thought I was in the company of a bloody Irishman.” I smiled, he laughed. It was rumored that the English and Irish had a rather nasty rivalry, you wouldn't have known from the lovely conversation that was going on it that car.
“How long have you been in this business of social work Miss Winter?”
“Rachel please, Miss Winter is so formal. I don't want anyone to think I'm unapproachable.”
“Alright then, Rachel.” he smiled at me again.
“I suppose its been almost two years now. I started when the Germans surrendered, and I've been in it ever since.”
“Spot on, why did you choose such an occupation? Let me know if I'm pryin', I don't mean to.”
I smiled, I wasn't sure if I wanted to tell him the real reason or just the generic 'oh I just love children and making them happy'. His eyes were so trusting though....
“I, well I went in it because...”
“Ah bloody hell I'm pryin', I apologize Rachel. You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”
“No, no its okay. You're not prying, you're just trying to make conversation. The main reason I chose this occupation was to find my sister. You see we were separated in a nighttime air-raid almost four years ago...” I stopped, trying to maintain composure. I was unsure why I was telling this story to a man I had just met twenty minutes ago.
“I'm sorry...so you think that someone picked her up and put her in an orphanages' care?”
“Yes, I refuse to believe she's dead. Something tells me she's not...I know that's silly.”
“No it's not, hope is such an uncommon thing these days. Its a relief to talk to someone who hasn't lost it. Most people who were separated from someone they loved durin' that damned Blitz have already assumed that they're dead. You have remarkable strength to go on believin' that your sister is alive.” he said, glancing at me.
“Thank you Dougan...you're one of the few who haven't assumed that she's dead or tell me it's a hopeless cause. And I really appreciate that.”
“Well I do what I can, those kids there are so full of hope and happiness. Some of them have come from the worse situations imaginable, seen things that kids shouldn't see; and yet they still carry this glimmer of faith that they'll get adopted by a loving home. I figure hell, I have no excuse not to have a little faith.” he smiled. “Oh look, we're coming up on St. Columb now.”
I remember the car coming to the top of the hill overlooking the beautiful landscape that surrounded the tiny orphanage, it seemed to almost envelope it. There was a creek that flowed from the back of the house and continued into the small forest that wrapped around the southern part of the property. Never in a thousand years, did I think that such horror could live in a place of serenity.
Friday, March 12, 2010
#18: Gallivanting around the city
For those of you who don't know (which if you're reading this on my Blogger account you probably fit into that category)I 'ran away' last Friday to the 'most livable' city in America: Pittsburgh.
Now one may ask 'Why on earth would you spend your spring break in Pittsburgh? There are so many other happenin' places for a young college kid as yourself!' Okay first of all, nobody uses happenin' anymore unless they are completely trashed; secondly, the people in those locations are usually wasted, horny, and smell of vomit, chaos and bad decisions. Thirdly, the people that I so desperately wanted to see were in fact, in PITTSBURGH. I didn't give my real reason for escaping because I figured people would just assume that's what I was doing for spring break. Not only that, I wasn't quite sure of the reason myself. I told myself that if I could just run away for a few days that my sorrow wouldn't follow me and I would live in blissful ignorance. I would arrive in PGH, be with my friends, sneak away to New York and see some shows, and my problems would just stay in the god-forsaken sinkhole that is my hometown. I kick myself now because I'm old enough to know that isn't the case, however I think that some lessons that you've learned tend to sink to the back of your mind. This happened to be the case. It wasn't until I was on the train on Saturday, heading into FABULOUS New York with the best people ever, that I began to really feel the sadness that I always feel on March 6th; the day my Mother died. I attempted to hide my tears and feelings to no avail, Kate and Rachel are very observant and understanding people and they did an excellent job of making me feel it was okay. They knew that I had been through some really shitty times these past few months; with my Nana dying in January, then dealing with this very difficult time of year that was now intensified with a fresh loss. I began to really think: Why am I still feeling this way when I'm with two people whom I haven't seen in months and am so happy to see? Why are these feeling affecting me in a place where I am most content and happy? The answer is simple:
She was my mom. She was my MOTHER. There will always be a void there, its something that won't disappear. Honestly, I don't think I would want it to because the day that happens is the day I truly loose her forever. While it wasn't as intensified in a different location, it was still there. I still feel the ache, and you know...I'm okay with that. I've moved on, I'm at a place in my life now where I'm just trying to figure things out. And while it is incredibly difficult sometimes without a mother, I manage; with a lot of help from some incredible people.
Well now we have all of that out of the way....allow me to gush about the two shows I saw:
Even though I had the privilege of seeing it when I was sixteen, I marched down to the tkts booth in Times Square to inquire about Phantom of the Opera tickets. I managed to snag a Row H orchestra seat, and with my prize in hand we met another dear friend of ours, Meg, for a bit and wandered about the city for a while before she had to go. After getting beautified, we each went our separate ways; Kate going to see Present Laughter, and Rachel (along with our friend Megan who decided to be spontaneous and join us) went to see HAIR. Seated in theatre, I felt the same thrill that I did when I saw my first Broadway show; this show holds a special place in my heart because it was the first show that I felt a strong connection with the main character. While Beauty and the Beast was great, it didn't have the power that Phantom did. I felt Christine's pain and confusion; stupid as it sounds, the show really helped my little sixteen year old self feel like I belonged. Jennifer Hope Wills played Christine Daae, and she was spectacular. The Christine's that I've heard in the past usually sound all operatic and mature. While that's fantastic, I think that they sometimes leave out the innocence, timidness and naivety that is somewhat crucial to the character. Jennifer did an amazing job of balancing the opera with the child. She hit those E's when the song required and maintained the child-like persona that is so often forgotten with this character. It was absolutely fantastic. Oh and how could I talk about this show without talking about the Phantom? John Cudia was just...amazing. Seriously there's no other way to describe it without making this post ridiculously long. Search him on YouTube. Also, Andrew Lloyd Webber just premiered his sequel to Phantom at the Adelphi Theatre in London. Love Never Dies basically picks up 10 years after the Phantom disappears, I'm counting the days until it comes to Broadway.
The other gem I saw was Billy Elliot. It's set during the Miners Strike in northern England mining town. Eleven-year old Billy Elliot, whose father and brother are participating in the strike,(whose mother has died quite some time ago and whose grandmother is not completely aware of what's going on), doesn't like the brutal boxing lessons at school. Instead, he falls for the girls' ballet lessons. When his folks find out about this unusual love of his, Billy is in trouble. Being supported by the ballet teacher, Mrs. Wilkinson, he keeps on training secretly while the work situation as well as the problems at home get worse. Finally, Mrs. Wilkinson manages to get Billy an audition for the Royal Ballet School, but now he also has to open his heart to his family. I've never seen the movie, but after seeing the show I'm pretty sure it can't compare. Yeah I know that's not really a fair assessment but I think you would feel the same way if you heard the music and saw the absolutely phenomenal dance numbers.
So that's pretty much it. I didn't intend for this to be so long, so kudos to you if you read it. I think everyone needs a little escape, they provide opportunities of self-discovery and amazing experiences with those you love.
At least, that's how I see it :]
Now one may ask 'Why on earth would you spend your spring break in Pittsburgh? There are so many other happenin' places for a young college kid as yourself!' Okay first of all, nobody uses happenin' anymore unless they are completely trashed; secondly, the people in those locations are usually wasted, horny, and smell of vomit, chaos and bad decisions. Thirdly, the people that I so desperately wanted to see were in fact, in PITTSBURGH. I didn't give my real reason for escaping because I figured people would just assume that's what I was doing for spring break. Not only that, I wasn't quite sure of the reason myself. I told myself that if I could just run away for a few days that my sorrow wouldn't follow me and I would live in blissful ignorance. I would arrive in PGH, be with my friends, sneak away to New York and see some shows, and my problems would just stay in the god-forsaken sinkhole that is my hometown. I kick myself now because I'm old enough to know that isn't the case, however I think that some lessons that you've learned tend to sink to the back of your mind. This happened to be the case. It wasn't until I was on the train on Saturday, heading into FABULOUS New York with the best people ever, that I began to really feel the sadness that I always feel on March 6th; the day my Mother died. I attempted to hide my tears and feelings to no avail, Kate and Rachel are very observant and understanding people and they did an excellent job of making me feel it was okay. They knew that I had been through some really shitty times these past few months; with my Nana dying in January, then dealing with this very difficult time of year that was now intensified with a fresh loss. I began to really think: Why am I still feeling this way when I'm with two people whom I haven't seen in months and am so happy to see? Why are these feeling affecting me in a place where I am most content and happy? The answer is simple:
She was my mom. She was my MOTHER. There will always be a void there, its something that won't disappear. Honestly, I don't think I would want it to because the day that happens is the day I truly loose her forever. While it wasn't as intensified in a different location, it was still there. I still feel the ache, and you know...I'm okay with that. I've moved on, I'm at a place in my life now where I'm just trying to figure things out. And while it is incredibly difficult sometimes without a mother, I manage; with a lot of help from some incredible people.
Well now we have all of that out of the way....allow me to gush about the two shows I saw:
Even though I had the privilege of seeing it when I was sixteen, I marched down to the tkts booth in Times Square to inquire about Phantom of the Opera tickets. I managed to snag a Row H orchestra seat, and with my prize in hand we met another dear friend of ours, Meg, for a bit and wandered about the city for a while before she had to go. After getting beautified, we each went our separate ways; Kate going to see Present Laughter, and Rachel (along with our friend Megan who decided to be spontaneous and join us) went to see HAIR. Seated in theatre, I felt the same thrill that I did when I saw my first Broadway show; this show holds a special place in my heart because it was the first show that I felt a strong connection with the main character. While Beauty and the Beast was great, it didn't have the power that Phantom did. I felt Christine's pain and confusion; stupid as it sounds, the show really helped my little sixteen year old self feel like I belonged. Jennifer Hope Wills played Christine Daae, and she was spectacular. The Christine's that I've heard in the past usually sound all operatic and mature. While that's fantastic, I think that they sometimes leave out the innocence, timidness and naivety that is somewhat crucial to the character. Jennifer did an amazing job of balancing the opera with the child. She hit those E's when the song required and maintained the child-like persona that is so often forgotten with this character. It was absolutely fantastic. Oh and how could I talk about this show without talking about the Phantom? John Cudia was just...amazing. Seriously there's no other way to describe it without making this post ridiculously long. Search him on YouTube. Also, Andrew Lloyd Webber just premiered his sequel to Phantom at the Adelphi Theatre in London. Love Never Dies basically picks up 10 years after the Phantom disappears, I'm counting the days until it comes to Broadway.
The other gem I saw was Billy Elliot. It's set during the Miners Strike in northern England mining town. Eleven-year old Billy Elliot, whose father and brother are participating in the strike,(whose mother has died quite some time ago and whose grandmother is not completely aware of what's going on), doesn't like the brutal boxing lessons at school. Instead, he falls for the girls' ballet lessons. When his folks find out about this unusual love of his, Billy is in trouble. Being supported by the ballet teacher, Mrs. Wilkinson, he keeps on training secretly while the work situation as well as the problems at home get worse. Finally, Mrs. Wilkinson manages to get Billy an audition for the Royal Ballet School, but now he also has to open his heart to his family. I've never seen the movie, but after seeing the show I'm pretty sure it can't compare. Yeah I know that's not really a fair assessment but I think you would feel the same way if you heard the music and saw the absolutely phenomenal dance numbers.
So that's pretty much it. I didn't intend for this to be so long, so kudos to you if you read it. I think everyone needs a little escape, they provide opportunities of self-discovery and amazing experiences with those you love.
At least, that's how I see it :]
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
#17: Get a head start on your Beach Reading :]
Okay its no shocker that I am a HUGE book nerd, especially when it comes to classic literature. There's just something about it that's so entrancing; not to mention without these amazing works we wouldn't have any of the authors that we have today.
I have several locations where I enjoy reading, including: my bed, the park, and in our AMAZING hammock out back. But my absolute favourite has got to be the beach; I have a feeling that many of you out there feel the same way :] SO I've managed to compile a list of authors and their works that I think anyone could enjoy; whether you like classic literature or not. Lets start with one of my favourite authors Daphne du Maurier:
1.) Rebecca - This book starts out with the famous first line—“Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderly again...”—begins this Gothic, ghostly novel about a young woman who marries and moves in with the handsome and mysterious Max de Winter, only to find that her new home is haunted by the memory of her husband’s first wife. When I say 'haunted' I don't necessarily mean windows slamming and things flying all over the place, you'll have to read the book to see what I mean. This story is more subtle suspense, less blood-and-guts which is refreshing in this 'SAW' era we currently are experiencing. This book will definitely have the hair on the back of your neck standing on end, especially when you discover how freaking scary Mrs. Danvers, the ghostly housekeeper, really is. If there's a literary figure out there more terrifying than her, I don't want to meet her.
2.) Jamaica Inn - The coachman tried to warn her away from the ruined, forbidding place on the rainswept Cornish coast. But young Mary Yellan chose instead to honor her mother's dying request that she join her frightened Aunt Patience and huge, hulking Uncle Joss Merlyn at Jamaica Inn. Right from the first turn of the page we're swept into a world that is wrought with danger, passion and uncertainty. Just as a disclaimer, this book was responsible for many a sleepless night in my house. Du Maurier is a master of suspense and plot twists, this is probably one of the best early example of this.
3.) Frenchman's Creek - Jaded by the numbing politeness of Restoration London, Lady Dona St. Columb revolts against high society. She rides into the countryside, guided only by her restlessness and her longing to escape. One day, chance leads her to meet a mysterious (and freaking HOT) French pirate, hidden within Cornwall's shadowy forests. Dona embarks on a high-seas adventure wrought with danger, excitement and (of course) passion. However her adventures soon come to an end and Dona is faced with a decision: should she sacrifice her lover to certain death or risk her own life to save him?
You can find more Daphne du Maurier here. Now that we've gotten that on the record, allow me to share some other favorites:
Nine Coaches Waiting, Mary Stewart - When lovely Linda Martin first arrives at Château Valmy as an English governess to the nine-year-old Count Philippe de Valmy, everything seems to be a dream come true at first....at first. Little by little, the young governess soon becomes very aware of the iminent danger surrounding the Château Valmy. Little accidents soon turn into life-threatening events. And when an accident nearly kills her charge, Linda soon finds she can't even trust the man she loves; for he is linked by blood to them: Raoul de Valmy.
Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen - Despite being set in a long-ago era when everyone wore funny hats, this novel’s got more drama than any of those crappy shows on Mtv or VH1. Forbidden romance! Illegitimate children! A feisty heroine who sticks it to anyone who crosses her path! If you like the class wars, love triangles, and backstabbing of the teen chick lit universe, you’ll love this book.
Rosemary's Baby, Ira Levin - When it comes to intelligent, sexy horror, this book blows the Twilight series into outer space (where it belongs...never to be discovered again). Rosemary is happily married and expecting her first child until she finds herself tormented by nightmarish visions and vicious cravings for raw, bloody meat. If you’re ready to forget about vampire romance, Rosemary's Baby is a great choice. Plus, there's no dogs for those of you with allergies.
The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath - This is a largely autobiographical novel. It tells the story of Esther Greenwood's mental breakdown, beginning during a summer internship as a junior editor at a magazine in New York during the early 1950s. Page by page the reader is drawn into her breakdown with such intensity that her insanity becomes completely real, even rational! The real Plath committed suicide in 1963 and left behind this scathingly sad, honest and perfectly-written book, which remains one of the best-told tales of a woman's descent into insanity.
Memoirs of a Geisha, Arthur Golden - Nine-year-old Chiyo, sold with her sister into slavery by their father after their mother's death, becomes Sayuri, the beautiful geisha accomplished in the art of entertaining men, is the focus of this fascinating first novel. Narrating her life story from her elegant suite in the Waldorf Astoria, Sayuri tells of her traumatic arrival at the Nitta okiya (a geisha house), where she endures harsh treatment from Granny and Mother, the greedy owners, and from Hatsumomo, the sadistically cruel head geisha. But Sayuri's chance meeting with the Chairman, who shows her kindness, makes her determined to become a geisha. Under the tutelage of the renowned Mameha, she becomes a leading geisha of the 1930s and 1940s.
A Pocket Full of Rye, Agatha Christie - I am a HUGE Miss Marple fan, and this is probably one of my favourites. When an unpleasant businessman is taken ill at his London office and subsequently dies of taxine poisoning, authorities discover a house full of likely suspects: a young, sexy wife having an affair; a money grubbing son worried about his father's management of the family business; an angry daughter frustrated in love by her father's control. But no sooner do police suspicions begin to form around one of the three than murder strikes again--and then again--in such a way as to leave them baffled. Enter, of course, Miss Marple, who sets about uncovering a killer who may be a psychopath that is killing victims in accordance with the old "Sing a Song of Sixpence" nursey rhyme.
So I think that's a good start, but if you want MOAR, I suppose you'll just have to check back....
At least that's how I see it ;]
I have several locations where I enjoy reading, including: my bed, the park, and in our AMAZING hammock out back. But my absolute favourite has got to be the beach; I have a feeling that many of you out there feel the same way :] SO I've managed to compile a list of authors and their works that I think anyone could enjoy; whether you like classic literature or not. Lets start with one of my favourite authors Daphne du Maurier:
1.) Rebecca - This book starts out with the famous first line—“Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderly again...”—begins this Gothic, ghostly novel about a young woman who marries and moves in with the handsome and mysterious Max de Winter, only to find that her new home is haunted by the memory of her husband’s first wife. When I say 'haunted' I don't necessarily mean windows slamming and things flying all over the place, you'll have to read the book to see what I mean. This story is more subtle suspense, less blood-and-guts which is refreshing in this 'SAW' era we currently are experiencing. This book will definitely have the hair on the back of your neck standing on end, especially when you discover how freaking scary Mrs. Danvers, the ghostly housekeeper, really is. If there's a literary figure out there more terrifying than her, I don't want to meet her.
2.) Jamaica Inn - The coachman tried to warn her away from the ruined, forbidding place on the rainswept Cornish coast. But young Mary Yellan chose instead to honor her mother's dying request that she join her frightened Aunt Patience and huge, hulking Uncle Joss Merlyn at Jamaica Inn. Right from the first turn of the page we're swept into a world that is wrought with danger, passion and uncertainty. Just as a disclaimer, this book was responsible for many a sleepless night in my house. Du Maurier is a master of suspense and plot twists, this is probably one of the best early example of this.
3.) Frenchman's Creek - Jaded by the numbing politeness of Restoration London, Lady Dona St. Columb revolts against high society. She rides into the countryside, guided only by her restlessness and her longing to escape. One day, chance leads her to meet a mysterious (and freaking HOT) French pirate, hidden within Cornwall's shadowy forests. Dona embarks on a high-seas adventure wrought with danger, excitement and (of course) passion. However her adventures soon come to an end and Dona is faced with a decision: should she sacrifice her lover to certain death or risk her own life to save him?
You can find more Daphne du Maurier here. Now that we've gotten that on the record, allow me to share some other favorites:
Nine Coaches Waiting, Mary Stewart - When lovely Linda Martin first arrives at Château Valmy as an English governess to the nine-year-old Count Philippe de Valmy, everything seems to be a dream come true at first....at first. Little by little, the young governess soon becomes very aware of the iminent danger surrounding the Château Valmy. Little accidents soon turn into life-threatening events. And when an accident nearly kills her charge, Linda soon finds she can't even trust the man she loves; for he is linked by blood to them: Raoul de Valmy.
Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen - Despite being set in a long-ago era when everyone wore funny hats, this novel’s got more drama than any of those crappy shows on Mtv or VH1. Forbidden romance! Illegitimate children! A feisty heroine who sticks it to anyone who crosses her path! If you like the class wars, love triangles, and backstabbing of the teen chick lit universe, you’ll love this book.
Rosemary's Baby, Ira Levin - When it comes to intelligent, sexy horror, this book blows the Twilight series into outer space (where it belongs...never to be discovered again). Rosemary is happily married and expecting her first child until she finds herself tormented by nightmarish visions and vicious cravings for raw, bloody meat. If you’re ready to forget about vampire romance, Rosemary's Baby is a great choice. Plus, there's no dogs for those of you with allergies.
The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath - This is a largely autobiographical novel. It tells the story of Esther Greenwood's mental breakdown, beginning during a summer internship as a junior editor at a magazine in New York during the early 1950s. Page by page the reader is drawn into her breakdown with such intensity that her insanity becomes completely real, even rational! The real Plath committed suicide in 1963 and left behind this scathingly sad, honest and perfectly-written book, which remains one of the best-told tales of a woman's descent into insanity.
Memoirs of a Geisha, Arthur Golden - Nine-year-old Chiyo, sold with her sister into slavery by their father after their mother's death, becomes Sayuri, the beautiful geisha accomplished in the art of entertaining men, is the focus of this fascinating first novel. Narrating her life story from her elegant suite in the Waldorf Astoria, Sayuri tells of her traumatic arrival at the Nitta okiya (a geisha house), where she endures harsh treatment from Granny and Mother, the greedy owners, and from Hatsumomo, the sadistically cruel head geisha. But Sayuri's chance meeting with the Chairman, who shows her kindness, makes her determined to become a geisha. Under the tutelage of the renowned Mameha, she becomes a leading geisha of the 1930s and 1940s.
A Pocket Full of Rye, Agatha Christie - I am a HUGE Miss Marple fan, and this is probably one of my favourites. When an unpleasant businessman is taken ill at his London office and subsequently dies of taxine poisoning, authorities discover a house full of likely suspects: a young, sexy wife having an affair; a money grubbing son worried about his father's management of the family business; an angry daughter frustrated in love by her father's control. But no sooner do police suspicions begin to form around one of the three than murder strikes again--and then again--in such a way as to leave them baffled. Enter, of course, Miss Marple, who sets about uncovering a killer who may be a psychopath that is killing victims in accordance with the old "Sing a Song of Sixpence" nursey rhyme.
So I think that's a good start, but if you want MOAR, I suppose you'll just have to check back....
At least that's how I see it ;]
Friday, February 26, 2010
#16: A peek into my iTunes: Part 1 - Broadway Starlets
This is an attempt to get my mind off certain things. So I thought I would start a little segment about my favourite music :] Installment 1: The Broadway Starlets.
This is quite possibly one of my favourite CD's ever. Steph has a voice that just touches a deep part of you and once you've felt it you're hooked. She not only is a belter, but her voice can go from powerhouse to lullaby in 0.3 seconds. My favorite song on here is 'Gotta Start Small'. Its absolutely beautiful; she starts out in that soft, sweet head voice of hers. She gradually builds up to the climatic belt, then finishes off in that soft melodic head voice. Despite her 'Broadway' persona, there are only two tracks on here that could be considered musical theatre: Making Good, a song that was originally written in the Wicked workshop but then cut and replaced with 'The Wizard and I' and Because I am A Wife, a song that was featured in previews for The Pirate Queen then replaced with 'Woman'. The rest of the album features composers such as Scott Alan, Andrew Lippa, and Stephan Flaherty to name a few. I highly recommend this one, not just because I'm a quote 'Blockhead' but because I truly think that its a brilliant CD that anyone could enjoy. You can check it out here.
If you adore Broadway songs old and new, then this my friends is a really good find. Christiane Noll has one of the most versatile voices I've heard, plus she's another lady with a rather impressive belt (sue me, I love my belters). This CD really showcases her versatility, with songs like 'Johnny One Note', 'I Could have Danced All Night' and 'My Personal Property'. One minute you're hearing a beautiful soprano voice and the next you have a spunky musical theatre vebratto. Sadly, this came out a while before her debut as Mother in RAGTIME so there's no 'Back to Before' on there, but if you're looking for something with a little spunk and class then you've definitely found it. You can preview it here.
I'm a jazz fan (Sorry Rach ;]). Ashley Brown caught my eye--er..ear rather...when she was playing Belle in BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. She's currently staring in the title role in the MARY POPPINS national tour, but somehow between cities she managed to produce this little gem. Its all classic jazz standards that are incredibly soothing after a long day. With favorites like 'If I were a Bell', 'As Time Goes By' (one of my all-time favourites), 'My Funny Valentine' and 'How Long has this Been Going On' how can this not be a must have for jazz lovers? Plus Ashley's beautiful soprano voice is just mezmerizing. Yes, I'm a fan of sopranos and belters. Just in case you didn't notice. You can listen to sample tracks here.
Sutton Foster is known for her comedic roles, as well as her amazing performance as Jo in LITTLE WOMEN and the title role in THOROUGHLY MODERN MILLIE. Sutton brings some of her favorite influences and inspirations to this album, she not only showcases her taste in music but her versatility that not a lot of people know she has. Classics like 'Up on the Roof', 'Nobody's Cryin', and 'Sunshine on My Shoulders' will make this a fun one to listen to with your parents. You won't have to deal with the whole 'You call this music?!' crap. Check it out here.
Okay so I saved Linda for last...mainly because the woman has about eleven albums out...I own six of them. So I picked three of my favourites, lets start with Broadway: My Way.
Yes I know, its another CD of good ole' Broadway standards. I can't help it, I adore musical theatre. The great thing about this album is that Linda didn't pick songs that everyone knew. Sure there are some familiar ones on there (such as 'Edelweiss', 'On the Street Where you Live' and 'Don't Rain on My Parade'. Which by the way is AMAZING. Not because the woman can belt, but because she makes the song her own without trying to emulate Barbra), but she picked a few that not a lot of people know about; songs such as 'The Impossible Dream', 'What Kind of Fool?', and 'Man of La Mancha' aren't usually the first to come to mind when one thinks musical theatre. This album is a great way to expand your Broadway repertoire, you can find it here.
Most people get a little persnickity when it comes to people re-doing the songs that 'icons' do. I can assure you that that will change once you hear this album. Judy Garland is probably one of the most iconic performers of our time, and this album pays homage to that. I can't think of anyone better to do a tribute album honestly, Judy had a unique voice that most people would recognize as her own; Linda is the same way. The album has classics like 'The Trolly Song', 'Almost Like Being in Love', 'The Boy Next Door', 'Zing! Went the Strings of my Heart' and (of course) 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. Linda, again, manages to add her own personal touch to the songs without disrespecting or emulating Judy. This is a definite must have for any Judy Garland fan and anyone who's thinking of giving Linda a try. Check it out here.
This is by far (again), one of my favourite CD's. Some critics described it sounding like 'Linda's going down a country road', well we all know that most critics have their head so far up their ass that they wouldn't know a good album if it--nevermind. The reason I like this one so much is because you really get a peak into Linda's minds eye. She wrote most of the songs on this album and they are very personally-charged. She delivers incredible renditions of Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" and "Ghost" by Emily Saliers of The Indigo Girls. This is probably the CD I would recommend to someone who's not into the whole Broadway scene, but enjoys the whole indie/acoustic genre. You can find 'The Other Side of Me' here. Oh and just a little sidenote, she sings this AMAZING song called 'Vienna' and I think its worth checking out.
So that's a glimpse into my vast iTunes library. Keep reading for the next one! After all, I do have over 3600 songs so there's a lot to talk about ;]
This is quite possibly one of my favourite CD's ever. Steph has a voice that just touches a deep part of you and once you've felt it you're hooked. She not only is a belter, but her voice can go from powerhouse to lullaby in 0.3 seconds. My favorite song on here is 'Gotta Start Small'. Its absolutely beautiful; she starts out in that soft, sweet head voice of hers. She gradually builds up to the climatic belt, then finishes off in that soft melodic head voice. Despite her 'Broadway' persona, there are only two tracks on here that could be considered musical theatre: Making Good, a song that was originally written in the Wicked workshop but then cut and replaced with 'The Wizard and I' and Because I am A Wife, a song that was featured in previews for The Pirate Queen then replaced with 'Woman'. The rest of the album features composers such as Scott Alan, Andrew Lippa, and Stephan Flaherty to name a few. I highly recommend this one, not just because I'm a quote 'Blockhead' but because I truly think that its a brilliant CD that anyone could enjoy. You can check it out here.
If you adore Broadway songs old and new, then this my friends is a really good find. Christiane Noll has one of the most versatile voices I've heard, plus she's another lady with a rather impressive belt (sue me, I love my belters). This CD really showcases her versatility, with songs like 'Johnny One Note', 'I Could have Danced All Night' and 'My Personal Property'. One minute you're hearing a beautiful soprano voice and the next you have a spunky musical theatre vebratto. Sadly, this came out a while before her debut as Mother in RAGTIME so there's no 'Back to Before' on there, but if you're looking for something with a little spunk and class then you've definitely found it. You can preview it here.
I'm a jazz fan (Sorry Rach ;]). Ashley Brown caught my eye--er..ear rather...when she was playing Belle in BEAUTY AND THE BEAST. She's currently staring in the title role in the MARY POPPINS national tour, but somehow between cities she managed to produce this little gem. Its all classic jazz standards that are incredibly soothing after a long day. With favorites like 'If I were a Bell', 'As Time Goes By' (one of my all-time favourites), 'My Funny Valentine' and 'How Long has this Been Going On' how can this not be a must have for jazz lovers? Plus Ashley's beautiful soprano voice is just mezmerizing. Yes, I'm a fan of sopranos and belters. Just in case you didn't notice. You can listen to sample tracks here.
Sutton Foster is known for her comedic roles, as well as her amazing performance as Jo in LITTLE WOMEN and the title role in THOROUGHLY MODERN MILLIE. Sutton brings some of her favorite influences and inspirations to this album, she not only showcases her taste in music but her versatility that not a lot of people know she has. Classics like 'Up on the Roof', 'Nobody's Cryin', and 'Sunshine on My Shoulders' will make this a fun one to listen to with your parents. You won't have to deal with the whole 'You call this music?!' crap. Check it out here.Okay so I saved Linda for last...mainly because the woman has about eleven albums out...I own six of them. So I picked three of my favourites, lets start with Broadway: My Way.
Yes I know, its another CD of good ole' Broadway standards. I can't help it, I adore musical theatre. The great thing about this album is that Linda didn't pick songs that everyone knew. Sure there are some familiar ones on there (such as 'Edelweiss', 'On the Street Where you Live' and 'Don't Rain on My Parade'. Which by the way is AMAZING. Not because the woman can belt, but because she makes the song her own without trying to emulate Barbra), but she picked a few that not a lot of people know about; songs such as 'The Impossible Dream', 'What Kind of Fool?', and 'Man of La Mancha' aren't usually the first to come to mind when one thinks musical theatre. This album is a great way to expand your Broadway repertoire, you can find it here.
Most people get a little persnickity when it comes to people re-doing the songs that 'icons' do. I can assure you that that will change once you hear this album. Judy Garland is probably one of the most iconic performers of our time, and this album pays homage to that. I can't think of anyone better to do a tribute album honestly, Judy had a unique voice that most people would recognize as her own; Linda is the same way. The album has classics like 'The Trolly Song', 'Almost Like Being in Love', 'The Boy Next Door', 'Zing! Went the Strings of my Heart' and (of course) 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. Linda, again, manages to add her own personal touch to the songs without disrespecting or emulating Judy. This is a definite must have for any Judy Garland fan and anyone who's thinking of giving Linda a try. Check it out here.
This is by far (again), one of my favourite CD's. Some critics described it sounding like 'Linda's going down a country road', well we all know that most critics have their head so far up their ass that they wouldn't know a good album if it--nevermind. The reason I like this one so much is because you really get a peak into Linda's minds eye. She wrote most of the songs on this album and they are very personally-charged. She delivers incredible renditions of Joni Mitchell's "Both Sides Now" and "Ghost" by Emily Saliers of The Indigo Girls. This is probably the CD I would recommend to someone who's not into the whole Broadway scene, but enjoys the whole indie/acoustic genre. You can find 'The Other Side of Me' here. Oh and just a little sidenote, she sings this AMAZING song called 'Vienna' and I think its worth checking out.So that's a glimpse into my vast iTunes library. Keep reading for the next one! After all, I do have over 3600 songs so there's a lot to talk about ;]
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