Ireland, 1855
Hidden behind these stone walls, surrounded by the vestiges of wealth and exuberance, while others beg and plead on the streets for anything that will feed their families, Bella feels trapped in the ties that bind her to this place they have falling into.
They had survived the five weeks passage from America to Ireland mainly with thanks to Lord Barrington, who was a dear friend to Charles Swan, who had secured his family's safety upon the arduous journey. Isabella had been transported into a world where civil unrest and famine had all but destroyed this emerald land that was to be her home. The climate was to her dismay just as the one she had left behind in Washington. Rain seemed to fall continuously with small gaps in the cloud were the sun would come out briefly to tease and torment, before hiding once more behind another deluge of water. Upon arriving at Wideacre Hall, her mother Renee had taken to her bed consumed with a weakness that had robbed her of her legs for almost two weeks. In those weeks Isabella or Bella as she preferred being called, wandered the rooms of the vast house she was now told would be their home while her father went into the city to work as Chief of Police. His reputation in Washington of being tough had not gone unnoticed by Lord Barrington which is why after a game of poker and too much liquor, her father had agreed to transport his family and their entire worldly possessions to Dublin, to begin a new life.
Bella assumed he was not told of the unrest that had raped this country, nor the potato blight that had ravaged its lands. With families forced out of their homes because they could not afford to keep them, having to endure living in squalor conditions…Bella closed her eyes at the unfortunates she watched from their carriage as it roamed the countryside to their new dwelling – saw the hunger and the indignity on the faces of small children having to live in destitute conditions. Thankfully her mother shared her concerns and often voiced them to her husband, but at seventeen years old Bella was not in a position to do much about it. The servants they had acquired with Wideacre where just thankful to be in service, even for the meagre pay they got at the end of the week, Bella often found herself slipping them some bread and cheese that was apparently in abundance in the cellars. Salted ham was also a firm favourite to eat, whilst beef was a luxury very few could afford to purchase never mind have it centre of their table at mealtimes.
Potatoes unfortunately were the stable diet in Ireland, but due to the blight and consequent famine that had destroyed and killed so many poor souls, they were no longer present at dinner tables. Hence the abundance of bread, cheeses and fruit that became a substitute, yet something very few could afford. She had become sickened pretty early on in the clearly defined line between the rich and the poor, had seen for herself with her chaperone Siobhan, the appointed lady in waiting to both Renee and herself when they travelled to functions in the city, how desperate things had become. Her heart broke in two when she thought about it long into the night when the house was thankfully asleep. While others rested in their made up beds of sheets that were imported from various parts of the world, as ships brought a plethora of silks and satins, pewter and gold, those who could not afford such extravagance lived outside lived like…
She had shuddered so many times at the thought, cried too many times about the injustice in this world and prayed she would help wherever she could the family who were taking care of them, the O'Donnell's, would not go hungry. And if it meant she took everything out of the house that they had no need of – as god is her witness then she would do it.
Which is why they were not harmed by the masked 'freedom fighters', sworn to take back the land that had been stolen from their people by those who had 'invaded' and took over. Thanks to Siobhan's father Patrick, who acted as Butler and man servant to Charles (Charlie) they were not touched. Even though the home they were currently living in had belonged to one of Ireland's prestigious family's – the Cullen's, because of Bella's caring attitude towards them and being from America they were left untouched while other large stately homes were one by one eventually burned to the ground and their occupants cast out onto the streets to live amongst those they had 'stolen' the lands from.
Immigration was evident wherever you went. Evacuation of Irish families destined to make the arduous journey across the ocean to Australia and American, meant more control on the streets, leading to unrest and fighting as her father began spending more time at the Headquarters trying to control the situation that was getting out of hand fast. The ships that came into the harbour where not like the one her family had travelled across, passage upon those ships meant cramped conditions with little or no bedding never mind something to sleep upon. A cabin Bella and her parents had shared was non-existent. Instead those hoping to travel to the new world that would offer then some hope with very little money and everything they owned on their backs had to live like cattle, pushed together for the six week journey.
Bella believed there was little if not any hope many would survive the journey…little known to her at the time, she was right.
So instead she mourned with the O'Donnell's as they bade farewell to friends and relations who had decided that the travelling would be worth it, as they packed up what they had gathered their children around them and made their journey to the dock. Boarded the boats and set sail…
Putting everything down in a journal meant Bella could keep track of all that had happened to her since coming to Ireland. Each night after dinner, she would light her gas lamp by the window and take out the leather bond book her parents had purchased for her upon her seventeenth birthday and began the entry, retelling all that had happened to her, all that she had seen. In some ways it offered her a measure of understanding, of what had happened since they moved to there and how she had felt compelled to do something other than sit around being waited upon by those whom she believed where exactly the same as she, no station upon life could make her less than Siobhan for she had worked diligently for her family without quarrel. Her red hair and sharp tongue were always a joy and had helped break the ice between Bella and her family – a friendship that Bella had held dearly.
It was upon yet another wet afternoon that she decided to approach Siobhan about the family that had once lived at Wideacre, after accidently stumbling upon a key that unlocked the door to the master library, a room her father had no need off as he had made one of the drawing rooms into a make shift study for his work. The room was vast with wall to wall bookcases filled completely with books. Old volumes and first editions caught Bella's eye as she wandered around touching the binders reverently, feeling as if she had stumbled across some prized treasure, her love for books was finally satisfied as she had to leave most of her own behind in Washington.
As Siobhan sat with her needlework, something she had attempted to teach Bella with minimal success. The coarse linen was stretched tight against its frame as the young woman applied with deft fingers the stitching from the needle, creating a pattern called a 'lovers knot' Bella looked up from the book she had been reading and glanced out across the acres of green that surrounding the house lovingly. A house that she felt strangely uneasy in, especially at night as the wind and rain that never seemed to cease, thoughts had begun to turn towards its original owners,
"Tell me about the Cullen's?" Bella had begun absently, as she turned her face towards her friend and noticed a slight shake in the young woman's hand and she pushed the red thread through the holes in the cloth. Siobhan was ten years older than Bella, considered a spinster since she had yet to have taken a husband, a condition Bella found profoundly tiresome as there was a keen need to have her married off before she was twenty by her own parents, suggesting holding parties at their grand home so that she could meet suitable suitors.
Siobhan set the needlework down carefully before lifting her green eyes up in the direction of Bella before answering, "What do you want to know about them?"
Bella saw this as encouragement as she closed the book and set it beside her on the chair, her brown eyes dancing with enthusiasm, "Did you know them?"
It took a few strained moments before Siobhan answered again, taking time to think carefully before answering, "I didn't, but my pa did. They didn't mingle very much."
"Why?" Bella asked, feeling apprehensive as Siobhan frowned looking everywhere but where she was sitting,
"Because they didn't seem normal." She finally replied in a whisper, "no one came near them."
Bella digested this statement, deciding it was too sinister to not ask a bit more, "What do you mean by they weren't 'normal'?"
Siobhan looked uncomfortable as she traced the stitching with her index finger, pulling on her bottom lip before answering, "I can't be sure Miss Bella, all I know is that they didn't socialise with the local people and always seemed to be together all the time when they did go out, which wasn't that often."
Bella found this incredulous, just because a family chose to remain in their own company did not warrant rumours to spread because of this, "And this was reason to call them not normal?" she laughed a little shrilly as she got up from her position by the window and placed the book she had been reading back on its shelf accidently grazing her fingers against a thicker book beside it, causing a surge of pain up through her finger, as she lurched away from it puzzled,
"It's not that miss," Siobhan argued, not noticing Bella's discomfort as she held her finger in her other hand, "Its other things that happened whilst they were here."
Bella turned around, suddenly intrigued by what Siobhan had said, "What things?" when her friend didn't offer up anything more, Bella forgot about her finger, gathering her skirt she came and sat down on the foot stool by Siobhan with pleading eyes, "tell me, for I know you're hiding something from me."
Siobhan shook her head, "It's not mine to tell Miss Bella." When Bella opened her mouth to argue the young woman continued, "Da says we are never to speak about them, never for it will surely bring bad luck upon us."
Bella sat back, shocked at the ghost of fear that was now present on Siobhan's face. With eyes as wide as the moon her friend fiddled with a thread that had worn loose from the sleeve of her dress,
"What happened here?" Worry had slipped itself into Bella's voice that held a tremor of fear as she spoke, "You have the right to tell me if my family are in any danger living here Siobhan?"
She took her time answering and when she did, Bella noticed Siobhan looked as if she has seen a ghost as her eyes never left the fire burning low in the grate, the only sound present was the ticking of the clock above the mantel, "It was said they walked amongst the dead, that they didn't go out in the sunlight." She swallowed before continuing, feeding Bella her confession bit by bit,
"That if anyone looked upon their stone faces that they would surely be dead by the 'morrow."
Bella felt confused by what Siobhan was trying to tell her, her brows furrowed with concentration as she listened to what was being said, "I don't understand. What do you mean about their stone faces and people being dead…?"
"People called them the nightwalkers, the walked the streets at night looking for unsuspecting souls to drain of their life." Siobhan's eyes were huge as she glanced around her, as if waiting for something bad to happen. Making the sign of the cross several times and whispering a rushed prayer, the young girl gave Bella a terrified look as she finally announced, "Bodies had been found with nothing left in them…no blood was found except for a wound to their neck.
"A wound as if they had been bitten…"
Bella lay awake that night, once more the wind and rain never ceased its constant punishment as the moon hid itself behind the clouds, casting her room into a darkness she found disturbing. Turning the gas on the lamp beside her, she threw the covers of her legs and sat up. Sleep was not going to be easy tonight, not with a mind that was overrun with questions.
The story that Siobhan had told her, although pretty fantastical in its content had disturbed Bella in a way she didn't like one bit. Of course it couldn't be true. This was the makings of a story made up to discredit the Cullen family who chose to remain distant from the people that lived around them in the small town of Drogheda. A story so fundamentally strange, a ghost story for those who they wanted to scare, to frighten away from the home she was now living in. A home that had been unoccupied for seven years until they were offered it with the condition her father leave his job in America and take his family to Ireland to live instead. Taking the lamp as she slipped on the dressing gown that covered her nightgown she was wearing, and checking to make sure the hallway was clear and the door to her parent's bedroom was closed, Bella slipped down stairs quietly and made her way towards the library. Ever since she had felt the jolt of pain through her hand when she put the book back she had been reading earlier in the evening, the curiosity of it had purposely kept her awake. That and of course Siobhan's story.
She had so desperately wanted to ask her friend's father about the rumours of the Cullen's and why they had to leave, something Siobhan was unclear of as they apparently disappeared in the middle of the night and no one knew they had gone until almost a year had passed. But unfortunately he had been out hunting and had not returned until late on in the evening and by then, Bella had been too tired after supper and decided to go to bed to sleep…
A sleep that had refused to come
Taking the key out from the pocket of her dressing gown, Bella slipped the key into the lock and turned.
With the curtains drawn and no natural light was cast into the room, the heavy drapes cocooned the room in darkness as she placed her lamp on the desk that was pushed up against the far side, casting its glow and created shadows that danced along the volumes of leather in the bookcases. The fire had long since been extinguished with fresh timbre already set to be lit the very next day. Despite it being in the middle of May, the stone walls did nothing to keep any kind of heat and fires in all the rooms were somewhat of a necessity. There was no chill but she couldn't help but shivering at the prospect of being in the place where Siobhan had spoken about nightwalkers and blood draining. She was no novice to listening to ghost stories, having read many books that spoke of spirits that roamed around after midnight. Witches and spells being cast were always a source of humour and entertainment therefore not to be taken seriously. Unfortunately superstition always held stories such as that to this world, and none were more superstitious than the Irish with their tales of 'soul takers' and 'Banshees' that came to steal your soul if you did any wrong. Bella smiled at the irony of such superstitious legends. Witches with white hair combing it with a silver comb, their wails could be heard in the deep of the night, like a baby crying for its mother. If you were to look at the banshee in the eyes and find yourself guilty of whatever crime you had committed, they would surely strike you dead with its comb. Shivering and scolding herself inwardly for doing so, Bella wrapped her gown around her tighter and made her way towards the bookcase. Locating the book she had been reading, Bella stroked its binder lovingly as her eyes fell upon the book beside it.
Licking her lips nervously her faced creased with worry and trepidation, Bella slowly and carefully ran her the tip of the same finger gingerly along the edge – nothing. Feeling a little bolder she then placed her finger squarely along the bind of the book, still nothing. Puzzled Bella then decided to touch the book with all of her fingers to make sure it hadn't been her imagination after all, only to feel her hand grow suddenly warm.
Taking a step back, she removed her hand from the thick volume with the rather odd title of 'Moonacre', only to find herself become fascinated in creating the feeling that had tingled up her hand once more. Straightening her shoulders, Bella lifted her hand and purposely removed the book from its snug position sensing the warmth once again and brought it over to the desk where the lamp was sitting and place it on the surface. As soon as she removed her hand the heat that had travelled up her arm was extinguished, like someone had poured cold water upon it.
"What on earth?"
Growing increasingly suspicious of why this was happening, Bella reached across and lifted the ornate silver letter opener, poking the book with it before rolling her eyes and chastising herself for being such an imaginative fool, she lifted the hard cover of the book and flipped it open. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. Deciding the inner first page with its title and author 'Reverend Eugene Cullen' looked relatively normal, with the exception of the name Cullen, that seemed to strike a chord of discomfort in her findings, Bella flipped the next page to the table of contents. Once more nothing seemed out of sorts, and she was beginning to regrettably think this was all to do with pent up superstition and left over thoughts, following Siobhan's slightly somewhat loose threaded ghost story she began to close the book with her hand, having discarded the letter opener when nothing had happened when the pain and heat shot up her arm once more. The shock of making contact forced Bella sit down quickly in the chair and stare at the book in bewilderment,
"Curious?"
Part of her screamed a warning inside her head that was too deafening to ignore, the other part of her, that strange disposition of needing to know why this was happening was forcing her hand again to place itself upon the leather binding, to trace a path along its gold lettering, repeating the word as she did,
"Moonacre"
Her brows furrowed as she recited the word, whispering it against the wind outside and the stillness of the room. Two things happened simultaneously at once. Firstly, the room grew chilled, as if a window had been left open somewhere and extinguished her lamp with a gust that coated her with its shivering breath. Secondly, the book seemed to take on a life of its own as if by magic the closed volume opened to the middle of the book and stopped.
She hadn't realised her heart had been hammering in her chest, nor believe she had been holding her breath but when the wind stopped in the room throwing it into darkness, the volume before her opened to reveal it's secret – Bella suddenly gasped as if she had been under water far too long.
In the centre of the book, between the middle pages that held the script of the story, nestled in a cut out section where several pages would have been was a gold filigree chain wrapped around a white stone.
When she finally stopped shaking and was confident nothing else was going to happen, Bella gingerly touched the mysterious necklace that had been trapped within the book, as if somehow it had been put there purposely to be found but why? This time not only did she feel the tingle of heat as it passed up her fingertips, she also saw the stone glow yellow, as if a light had been shown behind it. Curiously she leaned in closer for a better inspection. As her finger traced the delicate pattern around the claw the stone pendant was suspended from, its intricate pattern was etched with what looked like silver lettering. Through the large embellished loop the chain was threaded, heavy enough to carry such a large impressive stone but delicate enough so it didn't appear obtuse and gaudy. Finding her inner strength and forgetting about the warm pain the kept shooting up her arm like a magnetic current, Bella gently lifted the necklace out of its hidden place and held it up in front of her, only remembering the lamp that she had brought down with her was put out. Cursing to herself, Bella lifted her hand to the lamp in an attempt to try and ignite the burner with the gas when the stone glowed once more.
Its light seemed to glow faintly at first, before getting brighter with each pulse as it seared warmth through the palm of her hand. She was too frightened to put it down, too transfixed in its hypnotic glow and too curious to place it back where she found it. As the stone grew brighter a strange feeling began slowly rising up from her toes, around her legs and towards her stomach it snaked. With a shiver of fear that bled behind her eyes, Bella decided quickly to drop the chain with its glowing source of light which seemed to burn brighter by seconds. Her stomach erupted into a searing shard of pain as she felt every last breath she had in her lungs blast forward as if she had been punched in the stomach. A jolt so powerful her fingers curled in on themselves as she opened her mouth to cry out…but no sound came. As her fingers clenched tightly so did she press the glowing stone into her palm searing it against her skin. A feeling of being suspended rushed through her as she tried to open her eyes she had forced shut when the heat had travelled up her body.
A rush so violent had shaken her. The giddiness of flight had made her blood soar in her ears. The feeling of being suspended had robbed her legs of grounding her to the room…
Bella Swan was not in Wideacre Hall anymore.
