Forgotten Memories by Jennifer Newman (bearly read books TXT) đ
- Author: Jennifer Newman
Book online «Forgotten Memories by Jennifer Newman (bearly read books TXT) đ». Author Jennifer Newman
âNo but the names not easy to pronounce so it was changed once the new land owner moved in. Right city guyâ I winced turning away at the tone of his voice even though I didnât think it was a jab at me the way he said âRight City Manâ made my skin crawl. It wouldnât be so easy to get rid of my nick name after all.
âRight. Do you by any chance know where I can find out the old name even if the pronunciation is âhardââ I didnât mean to make my voice turn the last word sarcastic but my instinct to defend myself kicked in. John turned towards me then again raising his eye brow as I looked away. Letting my face once again become an open book while I struggled to pull every emotion back in out of view.
âLibrary?â his voice had softened. How easy am I to read? Even though I simple nodded my nerves were getting the better of me making me snap out. I knew it before it always happened and would have to calm myself. Breathing in and letting myself get lost in my imagination letting the breeze carry me away again.
I didnât get to let my imagination take me away and calm me. Yet I didnât snap at John or even myself. Instead my mind had cleared. Letting me think. Looking up at the sky I once again closed my eyes. âSorry.â I muttered quickly a little too quietly to be considered normal for a person who wanted to be heard. John turned his head still not really bearing an expression but his eyes seemed softer which made me feel better. âNo problem. Want to see the library?â I nodded pulling my head back down from looking at the sky and looking straight forward. The grand house coming more and more into view.
It was nothing like the house I had jumped out the car the other day to see but I could tell that this is the one I thought it had been. Where had that thought come from? Coming to a new town in the middle of summer maybe not such a great idea. I never have been good at introductions and here where the only person I vaguely know being an Aunt I have not seen in forever, even then I guess I didnât know who she was.
I let my mind wonder again to the reason I had chosen to come here. The mystery I wanted to find out. Why dad hadnât wanted me to get on the coach. What it was that had him never even mentioning the fact that he had family? The only thing I hated was that I had to impose on my Aunt to find it all out. After all it had been her who had got back in contact with us. It just happened that I was the one to pick up the phone otherwise I probably would never have found out about her.
I had chosen to ask if I could spend my gap year here since I needed a break according to mum who thought all it would take for me to become my âhappyâ self again was a âbreakâ the only reason I came was for the history. I love it. Finding out about the past losing myself in it was great but this just happened to be the place I had to go. Well when I say had its not really true it happened to be the place I thought would be the best place to find history. Both of the town and of my own families.
John lead me to a more modern looking building than any of the others I had so far seen in the town or even the out skirts where my Aunts house is situated. The building itself had brick covered over with cerement. The body was coved inwards at the tops with no visible way of tell the roof from the rest of the building. The whole building rang out knowledge just screaming it right in my face as I followed John up the stone path and round the bend; finally taking the last turn and up the steps towards the wooded doors.
The inside was not what I had expected if I had expected anything at all. Each space in the whole large room was crammed full with books. Sections on everything you could possible think of in one place. In other words I had no idea what so ever where the one name I wanted to find out was. Looking up at John about to ask if he knew where to look but he was already off in the direction of a far off book shelf with the title âTown Historyâ well okay maybe looking there would be a good start.
Reaching the book shelf a couple of seconds after John I saw he had already pulled out a book and was shuffling through obviously looking for something he already knew. He must have known the page number and everything since he didnât even bother to glance down the page in which taking for ever to find it. Instead flipping threw to find a few numbers Imprinted at the bottom of the page.
Glancing around the room while John carried on shuffling threw page after page looking for one in particular. The room was full of old and new books. All in its own category each having its own place. The Liberian leaning heavily on the desk as she tried to stay awake in the quite atmosphere. Only having a short convocation with another human being when they came to the desk to check out a book. From the looks of it no one had done that in awhile and the paper cuts on her fingers and bags under her eyes proved why she was working in library more than any words could.
âHere.â John passed the heavy hardback book to me with one hand. Glancing over the page I read the words âold fashionedâ and âabandonedâ mentioned throughout. The only description of the house itself theses few words. I become to doubt that this really was the house we had seen from a far until I court a glance of the name. Willow Cottage was the translation from French Chalet Saule was its real name. It sent bells ringing in my head. Something I knew but couldnât quite place. Well this was really going to annoy me until I remembered.
âThanksâ I said to John handing back the book after rereading the page to make sure thereâs nothing else that could give me a hint as to why I knew this cottage. It might be beautiful enchanting but that didnât change the fact that it felt familiar.
John put the book back in place on the shelf while I continued to think about the town. The amount I had learnt in one day. Not knowing how I would remember it all. The dates and features that one small town could hold is outstanding and unbelievable to one little city girl. Ok a while ago I had called myself petite I am not nearly 6ft tall like my bests friends . I do not tower over everyone but to some this might explain my infatuation with heels. 5ft 3inchs. Never a good combination. Lucky I had balance so heels werenât a problem. Only problem was the ground here is mostly mud of pebbled paths. The chances of anyoneâs heels surviving that is pretty much 0%.
John led me once again out of the building back out in to the âbustlingâ street. Shopperâs passing by with groceries in hand. Children covered in mud from the rain this morning. The tour would continue until I would once again become Aunt Tessâs burden instead of Johns.
Might as well make the most of it while I can.
â
Chapter three: Saturday 5:09pm
The table had been laid for Tea. Food on the stove and Aunt in the study. I was left to wonder the house alone with nothing else to do. The halls were endless and so was the limitless of the doors that lead to nowhere. The house was pretty much like a maze. A maze that I had been staying at for four days still not knowing most of the where a boutâs of any other room upstairs than my own.
Paintings hung from walls canvases covering whole side walls opening up to reveal doors that normally would have been over looked. Aunt Tess had told me that there are 31 rooms in all. That includes of the six halls, dining room, six bed rooms, two studies, two kitchens, old ball room, conservatory, library, sitting room, upstairs sitting room, pantry, six dressing rooms and finally two bathrooms one down stairs and one upstairs. Sad thing is I know this from counting them all today. I have spent my fourth day here wondering around the house helping with whatever chores needed doing.
Now donât get me started on describing the rooms. There just is no way I can think of. All unique in their own way. All with old paintings hanging freely from walls neatly painted or covered from head to toe in glorious wall papers. The dayâs events had added to what I all ready knew from two days ago thanks to John showing me round. Painting a picture of its own of what it would have been like to live here when the town was new and exciting to the eyes of rich land owners just waiting to pounce on yet more land to invest in. the image I had when I first looked at the kitchen table of the happy family sitting down to a nice meal made especially for them by loyal savants about to receive their next pay check. That same family came to mind now. Expensive clothes bought only the day before hoping to make the message clear to their âwelcomingâ neighbours that they were now the riches family in town. Competition and gossip would have been high but so was respect.
There is now an outhouse and summer house only a little way from this one. My family had built it only a few years before to be exact. The idea however had been there ever since the construction of the old outhouse was finally accepted. However the idea had been there for around 121 years. Yes I have done my homework. The library here has been very useful for finding out facts. That was where I spent my day yesterday. Taking a rest from that trying to make my eyes un-square from all the reading of history books I had gone outside to the garden. The need to take photos had over took the need for facts.
Taking my old fashioned camera outside with me I started to snap picture of the scene laid out before me. Today I had developed the everlasting pictures of the sun on the leaves of plants as it disappeared out of view covered by clouds as Earth span. Each of which I tagged into a photographic book I had brought with me. One of many, I had filled up the rest.
I was planning to look through them again tonight. Remind myself of the last couple of years. All captured in little rectangle boxes preserved there for life. Memories all attached to every single one taking me back weeks, months to whenever it had been
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