Finding Padiham

A young woman travels to England to learn about her family history.

Chapter 1

 

Sarah reached for the bottle of Chardonnay and poured herself another glass, idly watching the drops of condensation run down the side. She sat back in her lounge chair on the deck, looking over the green "blue river as it flowed toward Casco Bay. It was a beautiful, humid Maine summer night, but the air was pregnant with electricity from an approaching thunderstorm. She looked at her watch and noticed that it was after 6. Carl should be on his way back into the harbor, she thought. Her husband had gone sailing with a friend that Saturday afternoon, while Sarah did a century ride with her cycling group. They planned to be back at the house to shower, change and have dinner at Sur Lie, one of their favorite spots to dine out. Sarah’s mouth watered as she thought about their sweet pea hummus. Maybe she ought to grab some cheese and crackers to go with her wine " at this point, Carl wouldn’t be home until close to 7 and it would be awhile before they ate, she reasoned. She got up and made her way to the kitchen, opening the stainless steel fridge door while simultaneously noticing several messages on her phone, lying on the black marble countertop. She closed the fridge and picked up her phone. Several text messages had come in from Carl " she must have had her ringer shut off. She read through them quickly. “Enjoying cruising past Jewell Island”…”Beautiful day on the water”…”saw a bunch of seals on Seal Rock…” Then she noticed the messages took on a different, more serious tone. “Having a little trouble coming back in. Line is snagged on a mooring and won’t come off. May be home a bit later than I thought.” And then, “We’re still at it…may need to call Coast Guard at this rate…ha, ha…will keep you posted.” That was just a few minutes ago. She cursed herself for putting her phone on silent, and pressed Carl’s info on the message so she could call him. It rang six times and went to voicemail. Maybe he was out of range. “Carl " It’s Sarah " I just got your texts. Sorry " Had my ringer off. Call me when you get this. “ She hung up, and then texted him the same message. She wasn’t really worried. Carl and his friend, Alan, were expert sailors. In fact, they had grown up sailing together off of Cape Cod, and had raced competitively in college. They knew their way around a sailboat the way she knew her way around her Bianchi road bike. Still, she would feel better when she heard from them, especially with the storm threatening in the distance.