Diary(s)

Mireille Ayres enjoys going to the circus, and when she found one at the edge of the small town where she was staying, she had to walk around. A few years ago, she discovered her great-grandmother’s diary and read it; it felt like a fantasy novel to her. The realization that she was of the Romani line did not come till she read the last section. She spent the next month understanding what that meant.

She had the diary with her and cherished it. It linked her to her great-grandmother in a way she could not explain. The last few words of the diary directed her to a place and time, by name, her name, and by date, today. The diary instructed her to be where she is right now. Her grandmother wrote that into the book a hundred years before she was born. It said,

“Mireille, be at Appleby-in-Westmorland

in Cumbria on June 5th, 2025, and find yourself.

Elaine will help you. This is where I will meet with you.”

The first thing she needed to do was find out what this Appleby place was, and she learned it was the largest gathering of the Romani people (gypsies) on Earth, held once each year. Tens of thousands attend.

Mireille needed a vacation anyway, so why not head to England? She has never been there. So a year ago, she planned the trip. Airfare, train from London to Penrith North Lakes, and finally a half-hour taxi ride to the hotel, or rather the Bed and Breakfast she found, which was within walking distance of the festival.

The bed-and-breakfast where she was staying had to be the most beautiful and eclectic place she had ever seen. Filled with modern wonders and past memorabilia, this place was perfect. When she arrived, she received a warm greeting as if she were royalty. These people, the couple that owned the Inn, were amazing. The Coopers are the most accommodating and friendly people she has ever met. What drew her to this place was the fact that this B&B was within walking distance of the festival, and for Mireille, this was the important thing. She decided driving on the left side of the road was not a new skill she wanted to learn.

Arriving a few hours ago, she already had the opportunity to experience a meal, Fish and Chips. One of her all-time favorite meals, but there was something unique about this version that made it stand out in her mind and put it at the absolute top of her list.

After dinner, she returned to her room and picked up the diary from the side table where it sat when she unpacked. Of course, over the past few years, she had it memorized, but she felt something special when she read it. Mireille found the B&B’s library and sat in what looked like a very comfy chair. She was not disappointed and felt like this was where she belonged. She was reading the diary, as she did most evenings, creating that nightly connection to her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. The diary was passed down, and each of them added notes and comments to what was already there. Over the years, she learned the handwriting and the writing style of each maternal parentage, and she heard the differing voices in her head as she read each passage, each note, each comment.

The owner of the B&B walked through the library, saw her reading, and stopped dead in front of her. Mireille looked up, and the woman wore an odd, shocked expression. Without saying a word, she went to a bureau, unlocked and opened a drawer, and removed a small book. It looked like a perfect copy of the book, the diary Mireille was holding.

The woman sat next to Mireille, “This was my great-grandmother’s.” They held the books side by side. It was obvious that the same person created them. Hand-made them, actually. More than 100 years ago.

Mireille opened to the last page and read the paragraph. The woman smiled. She opened her book and read to Mireille,

“Elaine, teach Mireille, she is searching for my friend.

She is in your house, and your house is her house.”

The women were amazed.

The woman said, “My name is Elaine Cooper, owner of this Inn. I am Romani. All females in my line have a gift, the gift of travels. Not spoken of outside the family, and as we just discovered, we are family. It is a difficult ability to conjure, but when it happens, it is pretty amazing. Tomorrow, I am going to the festival, and I would like you to come with me. Each year, I go to a place and speak to my grandmother and great-grandmother, just as we are speaking now. Perhaps, your lineage will be there this year.”

Mireille smiled, a tear in her eye. She had family, “I would be honored.”

Elaine smiled, “Now, cousin. Get some rest. Breakfast is at 7:00 AM. I’m making Fry-up!”

Mireille said, “I have no idea what that is, but it sounds lovely.”

In the morning, Mireille walked into the dining area and found a full spread of fixings. Yogurt, fresh fruit, granola, coffee, and tea. She made herself a tea, not from a bag, but loose tea, proper tea, she thought to herself, smiling and nodding her head once at the thought. It was fantastic. She loved black tea, and this was the best she ever had.

A few others walked into the room, made either coffee or tea, and stood, mostly silent, looking at each other.

Breakfast was better than any imagination could have dreamed. Eggs, potatoes, sausage, bacon, beans, and of course eggs. Anyway, you liked them.

Elaine asked, “Cousin, how would you like your eggs?”

Mireille said, almost without thinking, “Scrambled with cheese.”

Elaine replied, “The same way I like mine. I can do that.”

Elaine scrambled six eggs, put them in a pan, and stirred them until they were soft and moist. When they were almost finished, she covered the eggs with shredded cheddar cheese, turned off the heat, and put a domed lid on the pan. A minute later, she removed the lid. Since Mireille was the last to be served, Elaine split the eggs she had just made into two plates. One for her newfound cousin and one for herself.

The conversation was interesting. Most people asked questions about the festival and talked about where they were from. Parts of Ireland, the USA, and around Europe.

Mireille helped clean up the table as the rest of the guests went to their rooms to prepare for the day.

“There is no need for that, I can clear it myself.”

“Nonsense, Elaine. I am here, and I want to help.”

Elaine smiled. The assistance was welcomed, if not unexpected.

Everything cleaned and cleared, Elaine said, “Go dress for a hike. I have your water already made. We leave in 30 minutes.”

As they entered the festival area, they sampled food and spoke with vendors. Mireille learned they were heading to a soothsayer and from there, they would speak to their maternal grandmothers.

The past few hours flew by, and as Elaine stopped in front of a very old and dilapidated tent, “Here we are.”

Mireille looked at the sign in the ground. “MIREILLE – READER.”

Mireille asked, “Reader?”

Elaine did not reply; she walked into the tent.

As she entered, all of the sounds outside disappeared. Mireille thought this was not possible. It was noisy out there, but completely silent in this place.

“Elaine, you have returned.”

“I have. I brought a cousin, her name is also Mireille.”

“We have been waiting for her for a hundred years. We are so happy she made it to us.”

Mireille said, “WE?”

At that moment, three women appeared. Partly solid, but still not.

“OH!” Mireille said nothing more. She wanted to see where this went. Was it a fraud? Or did she travel to a time when her grandmother stood in this very tent?

One of the women spoke, “Mireille, I am your great-grandmother, Simza, and this is your mother, Elena, when she was young before your birth. We have a lot to tell you, but not much time to do it. Listen carefully.”

As Mireille spoke to her grandmother, she was handed a small rock or gem on a rope. Of course, she accepted it, but did not expect to be able to touch it. As she touched it and realized it was real and tangible, her mind opened. And she was drawn into the family and given the gift of travel by her mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. By tradition, it can be passed down only to a female.

They spoke for more than an hour, and outside she began to hear voices. All nine women in the tent turned at the same time as one of the voices said something Mireille could not make out, a different language possibly. Her mother walked out of the tent and returned a minute later.

“I need to go. A horse just injured a man, and I am providing medical services. Baby girl, never discuss this ability. Never talk about it outside this family group.

A few minutes later, all of the women walked out of the entrance to the tent.

“What just happened?” Mireille asked.

“Elaine, you’d better explain.” The soothsayer said.

“Follow me,” Elaine said and turned, heading into the middle of a very large and well-manicured field. There were chairs set up and a campfire burning. Water was available.

Elaine walked to a table, removed a cover, and made two plates. Cucumber sandwiches, scones, and a sausage roll. She picked them each up a water. Returning to Mireille, she handed her a plate.

“The fire is nice, it is getting chilly.”

Elaine replied, “It is nearly 6 PM, so the sun is setting. The fire will warm us, and the house is not far off. But we needed a secluded place to talk, which is why we are here. No one can overhear what we are talking about.”

She motioned around, as they were quite literally alone in the middle of a large field.

“You need to learn your gift and how it works.”

“Wait. I did that?” Mireille was shocked.

“You did. And with the Talisman you received from your mother, you can travel as you need.”

“Travel where?” Mireille asked.

“To the location you are thinking of as you hold the talisman.”

“I need a drink!” Mireille said.

“What’s your poison?” Elaine asked.

“Good scotch!” At that moment, Elaine stood and vanished, then reappeared a few seconds later and sat back in the chair. Handing Mireille a glass.”

“I take it you like it cold, as I do.”

“Yes. But….”

“Let me start at the beginning. In the early 1700s, our great-whatever-grandmothers found these stones. When they thought of a place, they were there. When they thought of a time, they were there. They realized this ability was too powerful to be known or made public, so the three women made a covenant to never speak of it outside this family unit. Mireille the soothsayer is from Ireland; I am from here; and at this time, you are from America. That stone,” She pointed to the stone around her neck, “Is what gives us this ability.”

She stood, as did Elaine.

“Think of home. Is there anything there you wish you had brought with you on this trip?”

“Actually, there is. My camera. I left it on the table and did not realize it until I sat on the plane and they closed the doors.”

“OK, go get it.”

“What?”

“Concentrate on where it is, and pick it up. Then think about returning to this spot.”

A moment later, she vanished. She stood in the living room of her home and picked up the camera. She said, “Return!” and was in the field again.

“That….Uh….Did….Uh….Did that happen?” Mireille said.

Elaine pointed to the camera. The camera Mireille left at home. She had it in her hands.

Elaine sat back in her chair, picked up the plate, and took a bite of the scone and a sip of the scotch. “I love the flavor of the scone and the scotch together.”

Mireille stood there, partly in shock, partly in wonder.

“Sit, let me tell you about the ability you have acquired, and the limitations and the rules.”

Mireille sat again and held her plate in her lap. A small bite of the scone and a sip of the scotch. She smiled. It really is an amazing taste.