by Alisa Grey
He couldn’t sleep either. I could tell that from his breath.
He suddenly came on top of me and we made love. It was sweet, slow and delicate. I fell asleep into his arms.
On the morning after, I felt sick, as usual. We were still hugging and we were both willing to eat something.
We had breakfast and went out. We needed to find the sisters and ask them for help. Sam’s mother had been very clear on that: they would help us, no matter what.
It was foggy and windy. It looked like it was going to rain. The clouds were dark and the air was very humid. I could feel a sort of eletricity in the atmosphere. I was warm, though, thanks to the clothes Sam had picked for me.
We walked and walked, trying not to get wet.
Halifax was clearly a seaside town. The city centre was in the middle of a bay. History somehow met the new: there were people coming and going, buildings, places and stuff that kept going on throughout the whole day. We saw the Bank of Nova Scotia and the beer factory. Halifax was an old harbor, actually. It had more than 250 years. The streets were filled with guesthouses, old buildings, prostitutes and a general chaos. The city was endlessly moving and changing, even if its link with the past was still very strong.
We finally got to an old and dirty building. We walked through a dark corridor that smelt really bad and we found ourselves in front of a big stair that had seen better days. A small wooden door stood there.
We opened it and found ourselves in the middle of a crowd. The place was packed with nuns that spoke different languages and dialects. They were busy talking and doing stuff. They seemed strong and perfectly able to take care of themselves.
We were tired and wet, our clothes were covered in mud, but we still looked quite good.
As the nuns saw us, one of them to us.
«My name is Samuel Campbell. A sister from Edinburgh should have talked to you about our arrival».
The woman shook his head. She didn’t say anything and hurried to a long corridor. She said something to someone.
Few seconds later, a small woman, with a warm smile and dark hair, came to us. She had brown eyes and I felt like I could trust her.
«Good morning, Sam. Good morning, Claire. We know everything about you. Claire, we surely need a young woman like you».
Sam and I were stuck. She was a resolute lady, that was for sure.
She was magnetic, actually. She looked like a strong woman and she spoke a very good English, even if she had an Italian accent.
She looked at us. «I know everything about you, but maybe you need to know something more about us. We take care of those who get here, in North America, without money nor belongings. They are tired, they need a job, they are hungry. They sometimes can’t read nor write, which is why they are given a red book. If they own a yellow paper, that’s something to start with. The majority of those people won’t be able to stay, but we must help them. We help young women, we teach adult people how to read and write. We give them some food. We don’t have much money, because we live on donations».
I smiled at her. She know what to do. She made it all sound so plain and simple. She was a brave woman, I could see that.
She spoke to Sam: «We might have some estates for you, actually. That’s why you’re here, after all».
She took us to a small office. She got in and we followed her. It was packed with papers, documents, pens, candles and bread. She took a few papers and gave them to Sam.
«This is really kind of you», said Sam.
«We’d love to help you», I added.
She smiled at us.
«You’re very welcome, my dear», she replied. «I’m sure you will find out what you can do here».
She caressed my cheek. She didn’t have a soft skin. She was used to working much.
«My name is Beatrice. Now I must go. You see those kids over there? They need me».
She left.
As we left the convent, I saw Sister Beatrice sitting with the kids. She was incredibly loving and strong. She moved her hands a lot, just like the Italian people I had met in Rome did. The kids were laughing. They got in the classroom and as Sam and I were walking back to our hotel, I kept thinking of Beatrice. Sam was talking to me, but I didn’t notice that. I didn’t even notice the siren in the background.
«Claire, I don’t know what’s going on, but I think we’d better hurry...», he said.
My daydreaming came to an end.
«What’s wrong?»
He kept walking.
«I don’t know yet. But it’s good to see you’re back on Earth. Were you thinking about Beatrice?»
We had gotten downtown, where people were hurrying and screaming at each other. Sam got into a pub. A huge red-haired man was there. He didn’t seem to be especially well educated and he was wearing a kilt. He asked Sam something and my husband replied. Then we got into a corner.
«What did he say? Is he Scottish?»
«He’s an Highlander».
I remembered that Scottish people sided with Bonnie Prince Charlie got defeated. It was the battle of Culluden. Jacobites were therefore forced to abandon their lands. It was the XVIIIth century.
The red-haired man came to us and he looked at me. Sam said something that I didn’t quite understand, but I figured it must have something unpleasant.
The man laughed. I noticed he had perfect teeth.
«I don’t know why you make men go crazy», said Sam.
«Shouldn’t you be the one telling me? Anyway, why are we here?»
Sam reached for his pockets. He took the documents Beatrice had given him.
«I want to go through these papers as we’re having lunch».
The pub was packed and noisy.
«An island stood in front of the columns of Hercules. That island was the biggest one in the whole Asia. You could reach other islands from there or you could go to far away lands».
I didn’t know why, but those verses came to my mind. Nova Scotia was just like that. People spoke strange languages and the whole land reminded me of Plato speaking of Atlantis.
Sam looked at me.
«Don’t mind my words. Let’s just go through these papers».
A delicious Tweed Kettle was served to us. It was typically Scottish: it was made of boiled salmon, water, wine and spices. Beer and avoin biscuits matched the whole thing. The waiter looked at me as he put our plates on the table. Sam was not pleased with that.
«Come on, show me those papers».
His ears were red. He showed me the papers, though.
«So... an English family is selling the Lunenburg estate. It’s quite big, 350 acres... it shouldn’t be far from here».
He scratched his head. He didn’t want to ask the waiter where the Lunenburg estate was.
People around us were talking about a shipwreck.
«I like the salmon... what about the other estate?»
He shook his head.
«A Scottish family. Prince Edward Island... where’s that? It’s 240 acres».
«Tomorrow we’ll go talk to my father’s friend. He is a merchant and he might help us out. What about the shipwreck?»
«Oh, I think stuff like that happens pretty often here».
But he questioned the waiter nonetheless. Then we left.
It was cold, so I was happy to come back to our room.
We were talking about the estates, when someone knocked on our door.
«Dia dhuit tráthnóna!»
A blond girl was standing on the doorway. She had a rond face and blue eyes. She looked at Sam and gave him a letter.
«Feasgar math dhut», he said. «My wife doesn’t speak Scottish».
The lady was looking at him open-mouthed. Sam took the envelope and shut the door.
«It’s from governor McLeod. It’s an invitation for tomorrow. We’ll be dining with him at the City Hall».
~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~
London, October 1893
«Angus, what’s new?»
«Was she alone?»
«She was not».
«A man?»
«Aye».
«What about your son? Did he talk to your wife?»
«No. I can’t seem to be able to contact her. She must be on a mission somewhere».
«So your son is not with his mother... he might be with Claire!»
«They barely knew each other. They didn’t even talk to each other. And he never said anything about Claire».
«Don’t you think it might have been part of the plan? He left the day before she disappeared. Some of her clothes are missing. They must have planned this in advance... Sam is good at hiding...»
«That’s a possibility. Her family will know where she is, but they won’t tell us...»
«I can’t believe your son took my Claire away! Angus, you must find them. I want you to find them now!»
CHAPTER 10
BAGPIPES CALLING
On the night after, at eight o’clock, we got to the main square of the city.
It was so foggy you could barely see the buildings. We got lost a couple of times, even though we didn’t have to walk much. It seemed to get more and more difficoult to see what was around.
Our clothes were wet and I noticed that Sam’s cheeks were sparkling with drops.
The Big Parade must have been a paradise in broad daylight. It was filled with trees. The army used to meet there and the breaking news were announced in that very place. I couldn’t see much, but I was able to distinguish a square, a very big building and something huge that must have been built in the Victorian style. It was a red and white construction. Its roof ended with a peak and there was even a tower. This last had a clock which faced the sea. I also took a glimpse of Saint Paul’s church: it was standing opposite to the tower and I knew it was the first protestant chuch to be built in North America.
The City Hall hosted offices and meetings. It was also a library, a museum and a prison.
We got in and found ourselves in a big room with a vaulted ceiling. A huge table was standing at the centre of that immense space. The fire was on and I felt comfortable. The walls were covered with war paintings.
Many of the guests were already there. The governor was surrounded by people.
It was our first night out as the Campbells, so we needed to be perfectly well educated and charming. We didn’t like that much, but we would need to make friends sooner or later.
We were elegantly dressed. Sam was wearing a blue tail-coat that matched his white trousers. He had a white shirt and leather gloves. He was just perfect. I liked the way his dark hair and his blue eyes lit his face. Many women looked at him as we walked into the room. I was wearing a violet dress made of the finest silk. It had a deep cleavage, so I had decided to wear a golden net upon it. It was especially flashy because it was embroidered with leaves and flowers. I had tied my hair up and I was wearing gloves. I tried to be as charming as possible.
I was holding Sam’s arm as we walked in. We were both smiling, even if we were feeling a bit nervous.
Mr McLeod came to us. We had catched the guests’ attention.
«I’m delighted you could make it tonight. Please, do make yourselves comfortable».
I kneeled and Sam shook Mr McLeod’s hand.
«We are delighted you invited us, Mr McLeod. Thank you very much».
He smiled at us. He looked like a very self-confident man. He was not especially beautiful nor tall. His hair was brown, but if you looked at it carefully you could notice a few white stripes all over it. He had lovely eyes, though. Dark and inquisitive.
«Please meet Graham - Gregor – Mac-Dougall - Johnson – Innes –...»
I kept smiling, but there were so many names to remember. I shook everybody’s hand, but then someone called at me.
«My dear Claire».
It was Jackson Turner.
«It’s nice to meet you, Mr Turner».
He was wearing way too much perfume. He had a stick, which he kept rotating.
He offered me his arm and Sam let go of me. We were standing in front of too many people, so he was unable to act any other way.
I took Mr Turner’s arm. Sam was surrounded by young women.
I knew Sam was looking at me, because I couldn’t hear him answering to the ladies’ questions.
«So, Claire. How do you like Nova Scotia? Quite different from London, right?»
We got to the chimney and I turned pink. How did he know I was from London.
«How do you know I’m from London?»
He looked at me as if it was obvious.
«Everyone could tell that. Your accent, my dear. So, have you found an estate to buy yet? I can show you many – and there’s no need for your husband to come with you».
I didn’t reply, but I heard footsteps behind me. I suddenly felt someone’s hand over my shoulder.
It was Sam’s.
«Claire, we’d better be seated. Mr Jackson, if you’ll excuse us».
We headed to the table. Sam didn’t say anything. He was really angry, I could see that.
«Did you make friends with anybody? It’s packed with young and interesting women here», I said.
«I only noticed one. And she got rid of me and followed someone else!»
He was definitely too angry to have a proper conversation.
«Sam, you’re exaggerating. I didn’t do anything...»
«You didn’t do... Allright, we’ll talk about that later. Now don’t move. I want you to stay right here».
I didn’t reply.
When we sat, Mr Jackson Turner took a seat next to me. I wasn’t feeling hungry anymore. Sam darkened.
Scottish musicians playing bagpipes came into the room. As they did so, our food got served.
I liked the music, it sort of created a magic atmosphere around us.
I had a cock-a-leekie right in front of me, which was a chicken broth with leekies and prunes. We then had a steak and oyster pie, a mince and tatties, a rabbit pie and Stovies.
We then had pudding and cream, served with shortbread. Dinner had been excellent and so typically Scottish. But I was still feeling bad. I barely touched the food and remained silent throughout the whole meal. Mr Jackson, on the other hand, kept talking to me without pausing, not even briefly.
We suddenly heard a noise coming from the corridor. The door opened and a man came in. He was short and he had a prominent belly. He was dirty and a big scar crossed his cheek. His eyes were dark and they kept staring at us. I then noticed that two guards were lying on the floor, just outside the door. The man looked at me and then he run away.
It all became very chaotic. The ladies were screaming and Sam took my hand.
«Come on, let’s go!»
I stood up, but Mr Jackson Turner took my arm.
«I’ll see you soon, my dear. And keep in mind what I told you». Sam turned red.
We left. The night was foggy and the darkness made it all seem gloomy.
Sam wouldn’t talk to me, but as we got to the square I decided to say something.
«What happened to you? I’ve never seen you like that».
He stopped and closed his eyes. His fists were closed. He then looked at me. He seemed to be breathing harder than usual.
«You act like a whore», he said.
I was stuck. I couldn’t believe he had said that.
«Claire, I’m sorry, I don’t know... I...». He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He then opened them and caressed my cheek. «I’m jealous», he said as if it could explain everything.
I was unable to say anything.
«I know I’ve been nasty, but I can’t look at all those men while they... they undress you with with their eyes. I know they want... something from you. Because I want it too. I can’t stand that and I... I know it’s not your fault. You’re so beautiful...»
I took his hand.
«Sam, dear,
let’s go. We’ll talk later».
He kissed me passionately and we walked to the hotel.
I suddenly felt like I needed to know some more about him.
I was thinking about that when I felt someone taking me and pushing me against a door. He was keeping my mouth shut with one of his hands. I was stuck and petrified. I was terribly scared and started kicking the air around me. I knew who he was.
He said in a low voice: «Just shut up and nothing will happen to you». His breath smelt bad.
I heard Sam approaching us. He took the man off of me. It was dark and I couldn’t see a thing, but I could hear them fighting. Someone felt on the ground and I fell too. I was in the middle of the fight, but Sam held me and took me away.
«Claire, are you okay? It was that man from the City Hall... he must have thought an hostage could turn out to be useful. Come on, let’s go... the guards will be here any second».
I felt weak and tired. I was unable to talk. I shook my head and he helped me get to the hotel. We came up to our room and I started crying. Sam shut the door behind him and stood against it for a while. He was looking at me. He then came to me and hugged me. I was still crying. I was looking out of the window. He was soft and loving. He whispered me something sweet as if I were a child.
«Let’s get some sleep, Claire. It’s been a long night».
He shouldn’t have said that.
«Long? Long night? Let’s go through what’s happened, right? You ignored me during the whole meal and told me not to move. Then you told me I’m a whore and as the cherry on top of it, you told me it’s not my fault if men want to sleep with me. Then you had a fight and now you’re telling me I need to get some sleep? Are you serious? You must tell me what’s going on. Now!»
He stood still.
«What do you want me to say?», he whispered low.
«Everything!»
I was feeling tired and scared, but I needed to know what was going on. My heart was beating fast, but my voice had a clear sound. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he started speaking.
«Do you remember what I told you? That my family had a debt to the Wilsons?»
