Read Online The Secret Gift by Jaclyn Reding - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jaclyn Reding
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sections,” he told her. “Christenings, marriages, and then deaths. When one of these events occurs, the details are recorded as they happen. We send a form in to the Registry Office in Edinburgh and keep the original record book here. Then, at the end of the year, the books here are indexed in the back of the ledger by family surname, with a notation of the entry number and page number.” He turned to the back of the book. “Would you know your mother’s parents’ names?”
“Hugh and Catherine Mackay.”
“Well, the records are indexed by father’s name, and there are likely to be several ‘Hughs,’ so it looks as if all you’ll need to do is go through the Mackay births for the year. I’ve a few phone calls to make, so if you don’t mind I’ll leave you to it. Can I bring you some tea when I come back?”
Libby nodded and thanked him. As soon as he was gone, she read and then reread every Hugh Mackay birth record, but none of them indicated a daughter named Matilde having been born. She even went back and read every Mackay birth record, Hugh or not. Still there was nothing.
“I just don’t understand it,” she said a couple of hours later when Sean came back to check on her.
“Hmm ...” He sipped his tea. “Are you certain your mother was born here in Wrath Village?”
“No, not exactly certain,” she admitted. “But I have to believe there is some connection for her to the village.”
Libby looked at him. “Why else would she have left me the photograph?”
Sean took up the photograph of the young man that Libby had found in her mother’s things, giving it another, closer look. “I wish I could say I recognize the man, but I don’t. There’s a familiarity there, but nothing I can point a finger to. But then, I’ve only been here in the village the past seven years.” He gave her the photo back. “And you’re certain your mother’s birth name was Mackay?”
All it had taken was his asking that question. It was as if a light suddenly switched on. “Wait a minute.” Libby took up the record book again. “You said these entries were written as they occurred.”
“Yes ...”
“Well, one thing I do know for certain is that my mother’s birthday was August twenty-fourth ...”
She was already flipping through the pages, scanning the month column, and she began reading all the passages on or about August 24.
“These are christenings,” Sean added over her shoulder, getting caught up in the search. “It could have been recorded days or even weeks after she was born, depending on the time of year, and if the family were farmers, depending on what was being done about the farm. People sometimes had to wait until after the harvest was brought in, or sometimes, if they lived outside the village, they just waited until when next they came to church services.”
Libby started reading every christening record, starting with August 1, no matter the surname. And then, finally, she stopped.
“Listen to this, Sean. ‘Christened this day, the thirtieth of August in the year of our Lord Nineteen Hundred and Forty-two, a daughter born to Hugh Donn, a crofter, and his lawful wife, Catherine nee M’Leod, on Monday, the twenty-fourth of August. The christening was witnessed by Euan MacNeish and James Mackay, crofters, and the daughter was given the name of Matilde.’ ”
“Well, the first names certainly match,” Sean said.
“And the date of birth, but what I don’t understand is why she went by the name of Mackay. She even included it on my birth certificate, registering my name as Isabella Elizabeth Mackay Hutchinson.”
Sean sat down beside her. “Libby, is it possible your mother had been married before she married your father? You said she was thirty years old when she married your father, aye? Is it possible that she had already been married once before, when she was younger, and was perhaps divorced or even widowed?”
Libby picked up the photograph of the unknown man.
“Hugh and Catherine Mackay.”
“Well, the records are indexed by father’s name, and there are likely to be several ‘Hughs,’ so it looks as if all you’ll need to do is go through the Mackay births for the year. I’ve a few phone calls to make, so if you don’t mind I’ll leave you to it. Can I bring you some tea when I come back?”
Libby nodded and thanked him. As soon as he was gone, she read and then reread every Hugh Mackay birth record, but none of them indicated a daughter named Matilde having been born. She even went back and read every Mackay birth record, Hugh or not. Still there was nothing.
“I just don’t understand it,” she said a couple of hours later when Sean came back to check on her.
“Hmm ...” He sipped his tea. “Are you certain your mother was born here in Wrath Village?”
“No, not exactly certain,” she admitted. “But I have to believe there is some connection for her to the village.”
Libby looked at him. “Why else would she have left me the photograph?”
Sean took up the photograph of the young man that Libby had found in her mother’s things, giving it another, closer look. “I wish I could say I recognize the man, but I don’t. There’s a familiarity there, but nothing I can point a finger to. But then, I’ve only been here in the village the past seven years.” He gave her the photo back. “And you’re certain your mother’s birth name was Mackay?”
All it had taken was his asking that question. It was as if a light suddenly switched on. “Wait a minute.” Libby took up the record book again. “You said these entries were written as they occurred.”
“Yes ...”
“Well, one thing I do know for certain is that my mother’s birthday was August twenty-fourth ...”
She was already flipping through the pages, scanning the month column, and she began reading all the passages on or about August 24.
“These are christenings,” Sean added over her shoulder, getting caught up in the search. “It could have been recorded days or even weeks after she was born, depending on the time of year, and if the family were farmers, depending on what was being done about the farm. People sometimes had to wait until after the harvest was brought in, or sometimes, if they lived outside the village, they just waited until when next they came to church services.”
Libby started reading every christening record, starting with August 1, no matter the surname. And then, finally, she stopped.
“Listen to this, Sean. ‘Christened this day, the thirtieth of August in the year of our Lord Nineteen Hundred and Forty-two, a daughter born to Hugh Donn, a crofter, and his lawful wife, Catherine nee M’Leod, on Monday, the twenty-fourth of August. The christening was witnessed by Euan MacNeish and James Mackay, crofters, and the daughter was given the name of Matilde.’ ”
“Well, the first names certainly match,” Sean said.
“And the date of birth, but what I don’t understand is why she went by the name of Mackay. She even included it on my birth certificate, registering my name as Isabella Elizabeth Mackay Hutchinson.”
Sean sat down beside her. “Libby, is it possible your mother had been married before she married your father? You said she was thirty years old when she married your father, aye? Is it possible that she had already been married once before, when she was younger, and was perhaps divorced or even widowed?”
Libby picked up the photograph of the unknown man.
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