Far Into Yesterday by Verna Clay (read people like a book .txt) 📕

Chapter 1

Poem

It was late, very late. Ella closed her laptop and placed it on the bedside table. She sank down under the covers and hugged a pillow to her chest. The haunting words echoed; she knew the poem by heart. Every night she awoke and felt compelled by something beyond herself to flesh it out. Tonight she had finished it.

She whispered the words against her pillow.

Far into yesterday,
And beyond the realm of reason,
Memories of another love,
Another time,
Imprison my mind.

Silhouettes of his face,
Beyond the milky glass,
Touch my life with softness
For this other time
Within my mind.


A whispered phrase,
Beyond all hearing,
Communicates his devotion.
It transcends time
To lay still in my mind.

A passing fragrance,
Evoking nostalgic impressions,
Causes my breath to come deep.
The scent of his time,
Makes me wish it was mine.

Exhausted, Ella slept.

* * *

Ella Montclair, woman extraordinaire—that's how she thought of herself today. She was preparing for her trip to London, compliments of a new job. Her organizational skills had finally landed her the job of her dreams. She had been hired as research assistant to Sir Byron Thomas, the famous historian.

Ella grinned and reached for another empty box to store her belongings. Pulling out the bottom drawer of an old desk, she grabbed the contents. She had sublet her apartment and rented a storage unit for the items she was not taking with her. The more she could trash, the better. She flipped through the papers in her hand. Trash… not trash… not trash… trash… she paused; it was the poem.

In the years since it had been written, she'd gradually purged it from her memory. For a long time after it had been written, however, she'd quoted it nightly; and every night she'd been gripped by longing and loneliness. Finally, in an effort to salvage some semblance of peace of mind, she'd tucked it away, hoping to erase the haunting words from remembrance.

Ella moved her hand toward the trash pile. At the last minute, she changed her mind and slipped the poem into her briefcase.

* * *

The flights from Los Angeles to New York, and from New York to Heathrow Airport in London, were long, tedious, monotonous, but exciting: exciting because Ella felt like she was now doing something constructive and relevant with her life.

She had always felt “out-of-the-loop” as far as the direction of her life and her connection with other people were concerned. It was probably partly due to her upbringing as an only child by emotionally distant parents—parents that had been not only distant from her, but from each other. She could not recall ever having seen them touch in an intimate gesture, or even share an intimate glance. They were gone now: her father to a heart attack when she was fourteen, and her mother in a car accident five years later.

But were her parents the only reason she felt the way she did; why her preferred choices of recreation consisted of losing herself in historical novels or watching Victorian movies?

Ella pushed the thoughts of her parents aside as the international flight taxied to the terminal. She was finally in the United Kingdom. Lillian Thomas was going to meet her on the ground floor of Terminal One.

After exiting the plane, Ella followed the posted signs to passport control. With her passport and supporting documentation tucked neatly in her briefcase, she was ready to check through customs and begin her new life. The screening process, however, took longer than expected, and she felt nervous about making Lillian wait. Lillian was Sir Thomas's daughter, and had been her interviewer in Los Angeles.

At the interview, they had connected immediately after a shaky beginning in which Lillian had given her a startled look and stared at her with widened eyes. She had then apologized profusely for her rudeness. After that strange encounter, however, the interview had gone well enough.

Lillian had liked Ella's references as a historical research assistant for a respected, albeit, small travel magazine. Ella had been with the magazine since graduating from college seven years previously with a Bachelor's degree in history. When Lillian had called two days later offering her the job, she had been shocked. She had expected they would hire someone with at least a Master's degree.

Finally, Ella was permitted to leave customs and she followed the signs to baggage claim. Most of the travelers had already retrieved their baggage. She waited for hers to circle back around the loop. After claiming her luggage, she turned her attention to locating Terminal One.

“Ella…Ella.” She heard her name being called, and turned to see Lillian hastening toward her. Lillian was a lovely young woman, probably in her late twenties, the same as Ella. Ella was thrilled at seeing her again.

“I was worried about you, so I decided to see if I could locate you…and here you are.” Lillian smiled warmly.

“Going through customs took longer than I expected. I'm so—”

“Not to worry.” Lillian waved her concerns aside. “Let me help you with your luggage.”

Within minutes, they were outside the terminal and being greeted by the chauffeur of a sleek black limousine. “We wanted to impress you,” Lillian laughed. The chauffeur opened the door for the ladies and then loaded Ella's luggage. Ella leaned into the exquisitely upholstered seat and expelled a long sigh, releasing some of the tension caused from the long flights and building excitement.

“You must be very happy to finally arrive,” Lillian said in her beautifully proper English.

“I am.” Ella smiled contentedly.

“As we already discussed, we're going to Thomas Manor, about an hour away. My father's country home is just outside Farnham Village. We have a room for you in our home, unless, of course, you choose to live in the village. But we so hope you will remain with us. Once you're settled, my father is anxious to begin research on his latest book.”

“I'm anxious to begin work, too. I'm ready whenever you are.”

Lillian laughed, a musical sound, and said, “We don't
expect you to start for a least a few days. You need to acquaint yourself with the area. We want you to be happy here.”

Lillian's friendliness was contagious and Ella informed her that she didn't need a few days; only long enough to unpack and get a good night's sleep.

“Well, we'll talk about that later,” Lillian assured her.

The drive to Farnham Village was lovely, with rolling green hills, wooded expanses, and gentle rivers. It was everything Ella had expected, and more. Although she had researched the area before moving, she listened enraptured as Lillian proudly described the Old English market town in the County of Surrey. When the limousine drove into the village proper, Ella caught her breath at the beauty awash everywhere. Baskets and troughs of flowers of every imaginable color graced the businesses and homes lining narrow medieval brick and stone streets.

Lillian pointed toward Farnham Castle, which was within walking distance of the town. “It was built in the twelfth century.”

Ella gazed out the window at the ancient edifice standing sentry as it had for hundreds of years. The sight sent a tremor down her spine. She had never been here before, and yet …

She chastised herself. Of course it seems familiar, you goose; you’ve been reading about it on the internet. Still, the strange feeling persisted.

Less than a mile outside the village, the limousine pulled up before a country manor. Built in classic Georgian style architecture and created to harmonize with the landscape, it appeared warm and inviting. Lillian said the house had been erected around 1780. It was two-storied and boasted a center front door topped with an elaborate crown. Two windows appeared on either side of the door, and five windows stretched across the second story.

When Ella climbed from the limousine and gazed at the home of Sir Byron Thomas and Lillian Thomas, the same feeling quaked through her as when she had viewed Farnham Castle. She pushed the feeling aside, and exclaimed, “I love your home!” The goose bumps persisted.

“Your room is the last one on the right, on the second floor.” Lillian pointed. “You have a lovely view of Farnham Castle from your side window.”

Ella looked toward the castle and shivered.

Chapter 2

Research

Ella rested for two days at the insistence of her employer. Sir Thomas and Lillian wanted her to wait at least a week before beginning work, but she adamantly refused. She was anxious to prove herself worthy of the trust Lillian had placed in her abilities. Reluctantly, Sir Thomas relented.

Sir Thomas, in his late sixties, was frail and wore thick-rimmed glasses. He was everything one expected of a Professor of History. Because of his voluminous historical writings, he had received the honor of being knighted at the age of fifty-seven by the Queen.

Lillian said her father had married in his early forties to a young bride, and she had born Lillian exactly nine months, to the day, after their wedding. They had been happily married for ten years when her mother was suddenly taken ill and died of pneumonia. She said her father had never recovered from the loss, and often wandered in his mind back to happier times. She warned Ella that if he had a “spell”, it was best to leave him alone. He was incapable of communication. He would return to himself later.

Ella's office was in a corner of the well-stocked library. She spent her first days on the job familiarizing herself with her computer and software programs. After that, she perused the books in the library.

“I can't believe I've lived here all these years and never written the history of Farnham Castle,” Sir Thomas shared one morning.

“Well, I'm certainly happy to be the one helping with your research.”

Sir Thomas chuckled. “You say that now…you might change your mind in a few weeks.”

“Never.”

Sir Thomas laughed as heartily as his frail physique permitted, and said, “Let's get started.”

For the next week, Ella researched information on the internet and combed Sir Thomas's library for any references to Farnham Castle. The research was fascinating.

At the end of the week, Sir Thomas said it was time to visit the castle. However, on the day of their scheduled visit, he had one of his spells. Lillian said it was no use trying to bring him out of it, and insisted on staying with her father. She urged Ella, however, to keep the appointment at the castle. Ella was hesitant to leave Sir Thomas, but Lillian finally convinced her of the importance of continuing this phase of their research.

Because they were less than a mile from Farnham Castle, Ella decided to walk the distance. It was spring, the birds were chirping, the hills were green, and the sky was clear and blue. Besides having Sir Thomas with her, what more could she ask?

Dressed for comfort, in Levi's and a trendy peasant top, Ella crossed the vacant field surrounding the country home. Her new Skechers tennis shoes were just as comfortable as they looked, and she followed the path cutting through the forest—a shortcut Lillian had pointed out during her first days at