Happy Birthday to a dear friend you know who you are lol.
Una doesn't know exactly how she ended up in Chiselhampton, a small village on the side of a small road on her journey of salvation to heal herself and her heart.
She always dreamed of travelling, they had dreamed of travelling but she was the one here alone with the money that came from her inheritance that came from her Mother's death all those years ago. She booked a flight and a suitcase and went on a journey. Cheap hotels and a list of names that her father had given her. Some of her mother's family that he had contacted for her after many years.
The air smelled cleaner than London had been as she steps off the bus that took her to this place. She asked the hotel if there was any parishes or churches that were interesting to see that wasn't the normal ones usually suggested to tourist.
So she ended here two hours later taking the subway, or the tube she had been corrected and then a bus and a short walk up the road. She stood in front of a small white church with a blue door.
St Katherines Parish, built-in 1763 a small stucco building with a blue door and a bell tower as it began to drizzle
"Are you daft come in from the rain?" A woman asks coming out of the door dressed up in Georgian clothing.
"Pardon?" Una finds herself asking.
"The rain dearie, come in from the rain," she beckoned Una in the small church.
"You look like you are searching for something?" The woman asks letting Una into the old church. "The colonies?"
"How did you guess?" She asks stepping inside, breathing in the musky woody scent that it gave off not giving an exact answer to the woman.
The woman rattles off facts as Una looks around.
"May I have a moment?" Una asks quietly.
The woman nods and Una takes a small step into a pew and sits down, allowing her skirt to fall into place as leans onto the pew ahead of her.
It rains, but at least e\she had some foresight when it came to her rain jacket, but still, her long dark hair was soaked by the time she made it back to the bus stop, checking the time on her phone to make sure she was on time for it, but also have time for a small lunch
"I have to stop by the old parish with this paint to meet with some couple who wish to marry there," Una hears. "I swear you get more interest in something when you close it up than when it was open for tours." He says to his friend getting up from the table.
Una frowns, brow furrowing.
"You mean the church isn't open?" She asks, before blushing at her sudden voice.
"Hasn't been in over a year," The man says with a touch of surprise in his voice.
Una finds herself confused because she swore it had been open. She thinks about it on the bus back to Oxford.
The next day was Stonehenge, which hadn't been exactly on her list of sacred places that were, well sacred, but the closer she got to it she felt a shift in the air. Like electricity that sent goosebumps up her arm.
It was busy, these places always were of course. Still, it felt like she was the only person around as she wandered the stones. Would one of the turn her into an episode of Outlander? Twirling around she breathed in the fresh air like a giddy child, her skirt rippling around her as she laughed. A few photos later, and a few pocketed pebbles she left the site.
"Why couldn't he be a better man?" She hears a woman cry out later that night as she picks out her dinner for take-out.
A better man.
It sends her into a spiralling web of thoughts and memories.
How many times had she thought the same thing about him? How many times had she stared into that bathroom mirror in the middle of the night crying, seeing all the damage that had accumulated because of her weakness for him?
Why couldn't he have been a better man?
This set the tone for this part of the trip it felt like to Una. It felt like England was permanently in the witching hour for her. Haunting memories that never she wondered were real or not? Had he been jealous when one of the young teacher's assistants talked to her at lunch? Had she only liked him to make him jealous?
The spends her time on the train to Ripon reading, transferring when needing to another train, and lastly a bus. She reads anything but poetry whole parts of her wishes to see the lakes, but she doesn't think she can manage it at this point. So once checked into her inn for the night she plans her next day.
Waking up early for breakfast before catching the bus to the park, Una pays the admission. Profusely apologizing as she counts the change explaining she's Canadian and didn't want to give them the wrong change.
It's not raining, but it isn't also sunny either. She pulls the light jacket around her as the wind is chilly. At least she had in sight to wear study boots for the park so she can wander freely around. The abbey was easy enough to find and she breathes in the air. She plugs in her headphones and turns on her music. Letting herself fall into the ruins as she wanders around, tracing over old stones and trying to imagine what life would have been like before Henry the 8th had changed religion in England for his gain.
She sidesteps children here and there, smiling at their parents to let them know she was all right.
She breaks for lunch, unpacking her sandwich and tea under the shade of a tree with a small blanket to sit on. Digging out her journal to write in and take the photos that she wants to take on her small camera.
Much like the Abbey that still stands, she finds herself still standing as well. Holding onto the one thing that has proved to be more of a backbone than anything, her pride. It may be cracked and broken, but she's still standing because of it. She knows deep down that if he had been a better man it would have been different, but she's old enough to know by now that no man changes unless he wishes to. Still, she doesn't know what hurts her the most these days?
The idea she had thought he would, or the fact she had let herself play along with it all?