Rebecca’s Choice
By Heidi Gallacher
The year is 1894. Her husband is dead. Her husband’s best friend
has offered to marry her to keep her in the style to which she is accustomed.
But, this isn’t what she wants. It isn’t, at all …
Excerpt
I think of my
children and how they are missing their papa. Sometimes I hear them calling out
for him in the night. I must consider them more. How can my waking thoughts be
suffused by Reece when my own children are suffering…? I have to stop thinking
about him.
I hear the slight
crack of a twig outside and the sound of a cough. His cough. My body grows
tense, for I know what will happen, as surely as a mother bird will care for
its young or the waxing moon will pull on the tides. I must try to resist with
every ounce of my being.
I stand up. As the
handle of the door starts to turn, I gather my skirts around me.
He enters the little
room, wrinkling his brow as he sees me. ‘Oh, er…Mrs. de Roussier… I have come to take the readings. I was
unable to do so yesterday due to the inclement weather. I did not expect…’
‘Oh no, that’s quite
all right, thank you for coming. I was just sitting here alone. I was thinking
about my children, about how they are missing their father.’
‘It must be very
difficult for them. He was taken away from them so suddenly.’ Reece’s green
eyes mist as he remembers. ‘Geoffrey was my mentor. He taught me so much about
all these.’ He gestures to the instruments standing and hanging around us.
I look along the wall
to where he is pointing. ‘I do wish that I knew more about them. I come here to
polish them…but I don’t really understand them at all. Geoffrey wouldn’t answer
my questions. He would say that he didn’t have the time.’
Reece smiles and
beckons me to follow. ‘Then let us begin now. We will start with this one, I
think it is the most beautiful.’ He looks at me. He is standing by the
barometer that I have just polished, its glass and wood gleaming.
I move over to him
and peer at the instrument. There is still a scent of wax and lemon, but
beneath it all I can discern his sweet aroma.
‘This is what I call
a friendly instrument, since it shows you exactly what is happening.’ He moves
his long, slim fingers across the dial.
‘Yes,’ I murmur. I
want to kiss them, one by one. Instead, I read out loud, ‘Fair, stormy, mainly
dry. Please, tell me how it works.’
He indicates the
long, thin tube above the dial. ‘The liquid in here is mercury. More than two
hundred years ago, scientists found that the height of mercury when in a tube
like this changed slightly each day. They discovered that this was due to the
changing pressure of the air.’
‘What do you mean,
the pressure of the air?’
‘Right. Well, think
for a moment of the sea. If you swim down deeply you would soon feel the weight
of the water pressing upon you. Now, consider this. Think of the sky outside
and try to imagine the weight of the atmosphere—’
‘That’s silly! Air
doesn’t weigh anything!’
‘Ah, but it does!’
Reece looks at me, his eyes gleaming. ‘The sky might look like a vast emptiness,
full of little else but wispy clouds – but it still has weight! The air is
pressing on your body, all around it – even now as we speak.’
I take a step back
and look down at my body, patting it here and there.
Reece smiles and his
cheeks redden slightly. ‘You won’t feel it – but I assure you that it is
happening.’
I look up. ‘So, that
is what’s happening with the mercury? This pressure of the air forces it up the
tube?’
Reece claps his
hands. ‘Yes! And the higher the pressure, the more the mercury rises.’
I consider for a
moment. ‘So we know if the air pressure is high or low.’
‘Yes. And due to this
we can forecast changes to the weather. Or attempt to. If the pressure is low,
that generally indicates stormy weather. High pressure is the opposite,
indicating better weather. Like to-day.’ He looks across to the window. ‘Here,
at Tredelerch, an average reading would be around thirty inches.’ He indicates
the scale next to the tube. ‘To-day’s reading is thirty point two.’
I touch the dial
beneath the tube, which is pointing to ‘Fair’. I say, ‘And the dial agrees! So
how does the dial work?’
‘Yes, the dial shows
the same thing. But a word, rather than a number. They add it to make it easier
to read; not everyone is a scientist. Behind it there is a little spring
attached to a box. When the pressure rises or falls, the box moves in and out
in response. The spring expands or contracts and moves the pointer on the dial.
As the pressure is high, it is pointing towards “Fair”.’
I nod. ‘I can
see…thank you. I think I prefer the dial, it does make it easier to read the
weather.’ I can feel the warm rays of the sun streaming through the little
window, warming my back. ‘And it most certainly is sunnier to-day.’
‘Ha, I agree. Now, to
finish our lesson, we are going to look at this old fellow, hanging over here.’
‘Oh, that’s the
thermometer; I understand how that one works.’
Reece winks at me.
‘Are you sure? Come and look with me. I bet that you don’t know everything…’
I move to his side.
His fragrance drifts to me again. I close my eyes, then force them open again.
I try to focus on the thermometer.
‘What do you think
the liquid is, inside?’
‘It’s mercury…like in
the barometer.’
‘Mercury again. But
why use mercury? Why not silver?’
‘Wouldn’t silver be
too dear?’
‘It would; you are
right. But there is a very important reason why mercury is used.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Mercury is a rather
special metal. It is liquid, not
solid, at ordinary room temperatures. Silver is solid. When the mercury gets
hotter, it expands and moves up the scale. And it expands a lot, so any changes
are easy to detect and read.’
‘That is so
interesting, Mr. Lyons,’ I murmur. I am fascinated by what he says, how he
answers my questions, by what he knows. I know that it will mean so much more
to me now, when I consult these beautiful instruments and take their readings.
‘Should I tell you
some more?’ He looks at the thermometer again, running his fingers along the
scales on either side of the mercury. As he draws his hand back, it brushes
against my arm; once again I feel his warmth. He turns to look at me.
I say nothing, as I
am unable. I turn to him and close my eyes. I can hear his breathing, the warm
air gentle on my cheek. He moves to me, and I feel the softness of his skin as
his lips caress my own. After a long, long while we pull apart. He moves a
strand of hair gently away from my eyes. We regard each other.
‘I knew from the
moment I saw you again, but I felt I had to wait…’
‘Yes. We had to wait.
I felt ashamed to have these feelings about you so soon after…’ I hesitate and
then trace the outline of his lips with my finger. ‘It has been an agony of
longing.’
‘Shh…’ He strokes my
face, and I close my eyes once more.
‘I am so glad that we
have found one another.’
Pick up your copy of
Rebecca’s Choice
Heidi
Gallacher
Heidi
Gallacher was born in London in the Sixties. She grew up in Cardiff and
Swansea, South Wales. She jumped at the chance to move to Paris in her twenties
to learn a new language and culture. Following the arrival of her first son she
moved to sunny Switzerland where she has lived ever since. She completed her
Masters in Creative Writing in 2018 and her first short story Changing Places was published in
September of that year. Rebecca’s Choice is her first novel.
When not
writing, Heidi writes and performs music, swims in Lake Zürich and fundraises
for Africa.
Connect with Heidi: Facebook • Twitter • Goodreads.
Thank you, Mary Anne, for featuring my book. A lovely surprise this morning! Heidi x
ReplyDeleteNice writing!
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