Sarah's Destiny
(The Ancestors)
By Vicky Adin
Publication Date: April 9th, 2025
Publisher: AM Publishing New Zealand
Pages: 354
Genre: Historical Fiction / Women's Historical Fiction
Young Sarah Daniels is the heart, soul and future of The White Hart Inn on the Welsh Back. Alongside the quay and wharves on Bristol’s floating harbour, she dreams of finding love, and a destiny where she can escape the drudgery and tragedy that life usually delivers Victorian women. But dreams are free, and few share her ideals. When reality strikes, and Sarah learns the hard way that life is unkind, one man offers her hope.
Through many decades of heart-aching loss, false promises and broken dreams, the young widow clings to that one hope. With six children to care for, she takes risks few others would consider. She breaks conventions and makes sacrifices to keep that hope alive.
Will her wishes come true, or is she destined to be another unfortunate in the sea of many?
Excerpt
1862
Even though she was expecting it, and – she thought – prepared herself for the inevitable, she hadn’t expected the intensity of the sorrow that surged through her. Neither could she hold back the wail that escaped as she tried to push air into her lungs to release the pain. “Daaaa! Oh, Da. Nooooo!”
Mary held her sister close while Sarah’s shoulders shook, and her hands covered her face hoping to block out the image of her ashen-faced father lying on his bed, his skin the colour of the freshly laundered pillowslip under his head.
“Shh. Sarah, my love. Don’t weep,” murmured Mary. “He’s gone to a better place, where there’ll be no more pain.”
Sarah rested her tear-soaked face and red-rimmed eyes on her sister’s breast, trying to regain control of her breathing. “I know. I do know, but oh, Mary, I’m gonna miss ’im so much,” she said between hiccoughs.
“We can’t be selfish about these things. He were ready, and we have to carry on with his memory lookin’ over our shoulders.”
Sarah nodded as Mary continued talking. Suddenly feeling more like a child than a woman approaching thirty, she let her big sister take charge.
“I’ve given Ma some extra laudanum. It’ll help her sleep, but she’ll be in a dark place when she wakes up, between the effects of that stuff and the realisation that Da’s gone. It’s funny, I never really thought of them much as a couple. They were just Ma and Da, but they’ve been together for well over fifty years. They shared in the loss of four of their children and kept home and hearth together for the rest of us. Makes ya think differently somehow.”
“Aye, it does, I suppose. Never thought of it that way.”
She listened to Mary as she moved around the room, closing the curtains and covering the mirrors. “I’ve arranged for a wreath to be hung at the door. I’m sure all Da’s customers will want to know of his passing and to raise a toast to him.”
“Will Ma want to wash the body alone or should we do it together?” asked Sarah dolefully, thinking she should have stopped the grandfather clock downstairs before she came up. “And we’ll need to move him into the parlour for those who wish to say their farewells.”
Sarah would regret not being beside her father, holding his hand, at the moment of his death, but that wasn’t her destiny. That moment had belonged to her ma.
“Once the doctor’s been, Sarah, we shall, but for now can ya get me as much black crape as ya can find to hang over the mirrors and swags for the doors? Since the three of us wear black anyway, there’s little immediate need for more suitable clothes. I’ll need lots of ostrich feathers. Are you listening, Sarah?”
Sarah pulled her eyes from her father’s body. “What? Oh, yes, Mary, I heard ya. Are we sure he’s gone? I wouldn’t want him waking up in the coffin like we’ve heard of happening afore?”
Mary slipped her arm around Sarah once more. “I’m sure. And the doctor will confirm it. I promise. Unfortunately, Da won’t be one to be saved by the bell.”
Sarah offered Mary a weak smile, remembering how some of the more superstitious families tied a rope around the deceased’s hand and attached it to a bell sitting above ground in case the person woke up and needed to alert someone.
“Can you also arrange for the notice in the newspaper? It doesn’t have to be much, but it’s important these days; oh, and Ma wants to have black-edged handkerchiefs made, but I might be able to sew some up.”
“I can help with those,” said Sarah.
Over the following three days, Da’s body lay under the constant eye of Ma and Aunt Nettie, who came for her sister’s sake, or Mary, herself and Ted, depending on the demands of the taproom and kitchen. Their sister Harriet remained in the valleys of Wales, with her new husband and brood of youngsters, still in mourning for her ten-year-old son.
Streams of people paid their respects to Jacob, some pithy, some eloquent, some meaningful. Nearly all brought tears to the mourners’ eyes, despite the Victorian traditional of silent, respectful mourning.
“Will you hire mutes?” asked Sarah of her mother who was being anything but stoic. She shuddered while waiting for her mother’s response and took deeper breathes to calm her nerves. She hated the mutes, who always made her feel inadequate with their soundless scrutiny.
“I don’t want them silent, solemn-faced numpties anywhere near my Jacob,” said Betsey close to anger. “They’ll do no good.”
Eventually, the wake was over. The undertaker called to remove the body, feet first through the door, so the spirits wouldn’t call anyone else to death. The hearse, pulled by two bay horses and adorned with the almost regulatory ostrich feathers, made its way to the Holy Trinity of St Philip church on the hill above, where her father was laid to rest.
A memory seared on her brain forevermore.
“Goodbye, Da. I don’t know what I’ll do without ya.”
This title is available to read on #KindleUnlimited.
Vicky Adin
Like the characters in her books, Vicky has a passion for family history and a love of old photos, antiques, and treasures from the past. After researching the history of the time and place, and realising the hardships many people suffered, Vicky knew she wanted to write their stories. Tales of love and loss, and triumph over adversity. Her latest release, Sarah’s Destiny, Book 1 of The Ancestors series, is inspired by a true love story set in Bristol.
Vicky particularly enjoys writing inter-generational sagas, inspired by true stories of early immigrants to New Zealand, linked by journals, letters, photographs, and heirlooms.
She’s an avid reader of historical novels, family sagas and women’s stories and loves to travel when she can. She has a MA (Hons) in English and Education. Her story of Gwenna won gold in The Coffee Pot Book Club Women’s Historical Fiction Book of Year in 2022 and several of her books carry the gold B.R.A.G medallion.
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See you on your next coffee break!
Take Care,
Mary Anne xxx