Chapters (46)
“Oh!” I exclaimed, drawing an irritated look from a nearby patron. How sneaky of Bachelor Alf to not tell me. “Well, there’s a small image on the side here—” I pointed “—and it’s the only marking on the vial. I think it’s a bear. I couldn’t help but wonder where it might have come from.”
She tilted her head, curious. “Most people would have no interest in such a thing.” Gaynor extended her palm, and I handed her the vial. “You must be a historian, or a researcher?”
I smiled. “Not professionally, no. But I do have some interest in history.”
Gaynor glanced up at me. “We’re kindred spirits. I see all sorts of maps at my job, but the old, obscure ones are my favorite. Always a bit of room for interpretation, as places evolve quite a bit over time.”
Places and people, I thought to myself. I could feel the change in myself at this very moment: the discontent within me seizing the possibility of adventure, an excursion into my long-lost enthusiasm for eras past.
Gaynor lifted the vial to the light. “I’ve seen a few antiquated vials like this, though normally they’re a bit larger. I always thought them rather off-putting, as you don’t really know what was once inside. Blood or arsenic, I imagined as a child.” She looked more closely at the etching, running her finger over the miniature animal. “It does look like a little bear. Strange there are no other markings, but safe to say it probably belonged to a shop owner at one time, likely an apothecary.” She sighed, handing the vial back to me. “My dad has a heart of gold, but I don’t know why he sent you to me. I really have no idea what this vial is, or where it’s from.” She looked back down at the map in front of her, a gentle way to tell me that our short conversation was over.
It was a dead end, and my face fell as disappointment crept in. I thanked Gaynor for her time, pocketed the vial and stepped away from the desk. But as I turned, she called out after me. “Pardon, miss, I didn’t catch your name?”
“Caroline. Caroline Parcewell.”
“Are you visiting from the States?”
I smiled. “My accent gives me away, I’m sure. Yes, I’m visiting.”
Gaynor picked up a pen and leaned over her map. “Well, Caroline, if there’s anything else I can help with, or if you learn something about the vial, I’d love to know.”
“Of course,” I said, then I pocketed the vial. Somewhat discouraged, I resolved to forget the object and the mudlarking adventure altogether. I didn’t much believe in the fate of finding things, anyway.
7
Eliza