This was worse than anything she could have imagined. She knew he would already be dead in her time, but she had hoped he would live a long and happy life, not that he would die so soon after her departure.
“Oh, my love, I’m so sorry.” She was ugly-crying now, tracing the name on the stone. She didn’t know what she was apologizing for. Maybe for leaving him. Could she have prevented his premature demise? Or had she, in fact, caused it with her departure? The thought was too horrible to contemplate, so she shoved it from her consciousness, but the devastation and guilt lingered. Maybe they would never leave her.
It seemed impossible, but at some point, she ran out of tears. Olivia looked up, grateful that the garden was deserted. She needed to leave. The parking lot was on the other side of the house. Turning the corner as she dried her eyes, she looked up and froze.
In the distance, she saw two men approaching the main door of the house. And one of them resembled Dale. For a moment, the past and present merged, distorting reality. She felt almost dizzy and had to lean on the wall to keep her balance. Then she shook her head.
That was impossible. Hadn’t she just seen his memorial stone? Was she going to see him everywhere now? Maybe she was hallucinating. She needed to see him with an intensity that frightened her. It might even be worth losing her mind, if that meant she got to see him.
The brief trip back to her rented cottage passed in a blur through the film of tears in her eyes, and yet somehow she made it. But she didn’t want to stay here. A deep yearning to be in her home again, near her family, took hold of her heart.
She had planned to stay in England the whole week, to do some tourism around the area. The guidebooks called it an ‘area of outstanding natural beauty’. But now there was no point in staying. Her job here was done. She didn’t need to linger. She was going home tomorrow if she could manage it.
Her decision made, she called the airline and paid the fee to have the plane ticket changed for the next day. She also notified the cottage owner that she would leave earlier. She didn’t expect or ask for a refund. In all honesty, it wouldn’t be fair to the hostess. It wasn’t her fault she was leaving early.
With her departure plans in place, she felt a little calmer. She would leave tomorrow. That left this afternoon to do something she knew she needed to do, but dreaded.
CHAPTER 67 - Researching the past
GOOGLE SUPPLIED LITTLEinformation, so after considering her options, she paid a visit to the village parish. As she understood it, they kept many records. Finding the church did not pose a challenge, as the spire towered over the village rooftops. Olivia hesitated by the entrance, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the interior of the church. Then she spotted a youngish slim man with a receding hairline and big glasses rearranging some pieces. He looked like he worked there.
“Hello, excuse me. My name is Olivia. I’m trying to research the history of Crestview Hall. Do you know if it would be possible to peruse the parish records? I know this must be an unusual request, but there isn’t much online, so I figured maybe I could find more information here.”
The man walked towards her, extending his hand in greeting. “Hello, Olivia. I’m Mr. Simmonds, the vicar. I would be happy to help you. What are you looking for?”
“Anything pertaining to the Hall. Marriage, births and deaths certificates, any records at all about its inhabitants and their history. Also, if there are newspaper articles with relevant news.”
“Hmm, the hall was built about four hundred years ago. But the same family has lived in that land for much longer than that. Perhaps eight hundred years. Of course, parish records were not instituted until 1534, and even then, very loosely kept. What time period are you interested in?”
“Only the last two hundred years.”
“Come with me.” He led her into the back of the church to where the parish offices were. “They keep the complete records in the county’s record offices. You may want to pay a visit there. But I have copies of some record books from the nineteenth century, as well as some other relevant facts I have collected myself. I’m a history buff and my family has lived in this area for generations. When I took my position here, I tried to learn as much as I could about the history of this village. And of course the Hall is a big part of it. I discovered that my four times great grandmother had worked there. I admit it, that place holds more than a few intriguing mysteries, and its history fascinates me.”
Grateful for the vicar’s willingness to assist her and his obvious knowledge on this subject, which will make her endeavor easier, she followed, while listening to him prattle on about what he had uncovered.
They reached a small room that could be called a library, and the vicar deposited two leather-bound volumes on the table in front of her. He also produced a folio with loose copies of newspaper articles.
