‘He was an only child.’
‘Well, that could tie in.’
Adira’s mind was racing. ‘Could we check their marriage record?’
‘Of course.’ After opening the glass door to another cabinet, the priest began to search for the marriage entry of Grace and Timothy Conway, estimating the years to look for. ‘If Grace was born in 1891, we would be looking at roughly—’
‘1911 onwards?’ Adira instantly responded.
‘Yes, on or around that time.’ The priest motioned her to help him look. Adira’s eyes scanned the lengthy pages. They smelt musty, mottled with damp blotches, their faded black writings meticulously scrolled. Then she saw it.
‘There!’ Her finger pointed to the centre of the page. ‘Timothy James Conway, married to Grace Griffiths, twenty-first of August 1913.’ Adira was at fever pitch. She looked excitedly at the priest. ‘Can we look for Grace Griffiths’ birth record?’ she asked eagerly. ‘She may have been born here.’
‘Of course,’ he smiled, enjoying her enthusiasm.
Taking out another ledger marked ‘Baptisms’, he again leafed through the dusty pages to the year 1891. Adira held her breath in hope. Was she really delving into her own heritage? It was incredible to think she could be.
‘Ah, there we are, look, Adira.’
And there she was, Grace Griffiths born 1891 in the village of Lilacwell. She bent down closer to inspect the entry. Grace’s parents were named: Michael Griffiths and Edith Mary Griffiths. A small gasp escaped her. Edith, could that be who Edie had been named after? It all became suddenly overwhelming and her eyes began to fill.
‘Take a seat,’ the priest quietly told her, noting her reaction. ‘Would you like a drink of tea?’
‘No thanks,’ Adira half laughed. ‘Sorry, I’m feeling a tad emotional.’
‘Not at all, it’s an amazing thing, to look back into one’s family history.’
‘It certainly is.’ She looked at him. ‘And thank you so much. I really appreciated your help.’
‘My pleasure,’ he beamed.
Adira took a steady breath. ‘Do you mind if I make a few notes and take photos of the entries?’ She pulled out her phone, notebook and pen from her bag.
‘Be my guest.’ Then, sensing she perhaps needed a little time alone, he added, ‘I’ll be back shortly.’
‘Thank you.’
Adira immediately set to work, taking pictures of the ledgers. She made contact notes, the name and address of the church, the priest’s name and the reference numbers of all three ledgers used. Then, when she had finished, she went back into the main church, thanked the priest and cleaner again and went to visit Grace Conway’s grave; her great-great-grandmother?
That evening, Adira couldn’t wait to ring Edie. After explaining the day’s events, there was a momentary pause from her grandmother.
‘Oh darling,’ Edie’s voice cracked slightly. ‘Yes, my father was born in Lancashire, but I’m not sure of the exact place. And, of course, I’ve no one to ask now.’ There was another pause.
Adira thought about it. ‘What about his marriage certificate, or even birth certificate? Could you have them?’
‘I’m not sure… There were some papers given to me, as I recall, but I didn’t think too much of it at the time. From what I can remember, it was just his will.’ Edie was trying her best to think back.
‘Can you check?’ asked Adira urgently.
‘Of course I will! I’m as interested as you, love.’
‘Oh Gran, just think, I could be in the place where your dad and grandmother lived.’
‘I know, it’s quite remarkable. Listen, darling, I’ll let you know if I find anything. Sweet dreams.’
‘You too, bye.’
Adira’s mind was spinning into overdrive. Lilacwell, she was certain, had not been just a chance stop-off point. It held so much more. Not just the present, but the past too.
