Open Writing

*
June 1953

Eventually the day arrived for Mary's trip to Norwich, an outing which would involve hours of travel. She caught the first bus from Cley at 7.30 am and did not expect to return home until 8 pm.

She easily found the way to Norwich Library. Mrs Oltman had helpfully got out various books for her to peruse. Mary had written down various quesions in a large notebook.

Had Rebecca Jackson and her daughter existed? Indeed they had. They lived in Town Yard, though the name of their house was not specified. Town Yard was in the right part of town to match Mary's experiences.

Did John Waller keep the George and Dragon Inn? Yes he did. He was listed as running it in 1839. Other people mentioned by Mrs Jackson were also listed in the 1839 directory, but not all of them were mentioned. That was not surprising. Some people would have either died or moved out of the village in the 14 years preceding the flood.

In that same directory there was mention of Miss Judith Flood, listed among the gentry. The customs house had indeed also moved to Wells, though Mary was unable to discover the name of its Comptroller in 1853. The details and the number of ships in Cley harbour at the time of the disaster also seemed to be more or less accurate.

Mary pored over the reference works, taking notes. The historical registers were particularly valuable. There she found a reference to Captain and Mrs Ramm of Town Yard Road, though again there was no specific address. There were still unanswered questions, but she thought she had uncovered enough evidence to convince her husband Martin that there was substance in her story, and it was no mere dream or invention of her imagination.

Although they related to an earlier time, she copied out details about Cley harbour for Martin.

When Mary arrived home she eagerly awaited the time when the hildren would be afely tucked up in bed. Then it was the time to reveal to Martin what she had iscovered during that day's researching.

"I have only scratched the surface,'' she began "but those people I told you about really did exist. There's a written record of the customs house, and other matters. How could I have known about them?''

Martin carefully examined her notes, then said "My love, you have convinced me. I can think of no logical explanation, but I now believe that what you described really did happen. I am only thankful that you were able to return to me from that time.''

There was a smile on Mary's face.

Martin continued "I didn't want to tell you this before now, but I had a vision of you on the night of the flood. You were wearing a white lace nightgown, and you were in a four-poster bed. Somehow I was reassured that you had not drowned. You never told me what happened when you woke up in that bed the following morning.''

"That was because I didn't wake up in that bed. When I regained consciousness I was outside in the road. That is where young Philip Day found me. What ever the spell which was affecting me, it didn't last through the night. I found myself dressed in my own clothes, not the dressing gown which Mrs Jackson had provided. But I was not cold and soaked to the skin, as I would have been had I spent the night outdoors. I was confused, yes. Numb. But I knew who I was and where I was. I just wanted to get back to you and the children. As it were, I temporarily put aside what had just happened to me.

“Now I am puzzled as to how I got back into my own clothes, and how that note containing names got into my trousers pocket. I suppose we will not find answers to those questions.''

“Well, love,'' said Martin "I think we should make it our job to find out all we can about Cley as it was in the 1800s. Perhaps your friends from that age are buried in the churchyard. Maybe some have relatives still living in this area. Wouldn't it be fun to discover who they are, then tell them what their forebears were really like. Not that they would ever believe you.''

"Yes,'' Mary agreed enthusiastially, "we can do some more research. But I think my experiences are best left unshared with other people. I have no wish to be identified as someone who is not quite right in the head. Particularly when we have a new baby on the way.''

“Yes, my love,'' said Martin. "Quite so. Do you know I find it quite exciting to have a wife who goes time travelling. Maybe one day you will write all this down in a book.''

“I just might do that,” said Mary as she and Martin, arm in arm, made their way up to their bedroom in the comforting knowledge that all was well between them.