7 October 1920
Dear Diary,
One can't help but feel as though one has crossed through the looking glass. I've only been a few hours in this quaint little town and find myself in utter shock at every stage. Enough of a blasted shock for me to warrant writing a second diary entry within a twenty four hour period. I expected it to be worlds away from London or even Aldringham for that matter; but thus far Fir Creek has been managed to exceed even my expectations as to how starkly different it is. And to top it all off, the letter from Papa has truly managed to send my emotions into a tailspin of confusion. Perhaps it is the closure that I need to move forward in life, or perhaps in a way have reopened the metaphorical wounds that Papa's rejection left on me that I'd psychologically tended to so painstakingly.
To say the very least the surgery, or infirmary as they've called it, isn't quite what I'd expected; it is small yet one can't say it's under equipped. It has everything a country doctor would require; a fully stocked and organised dispensary, or a cabinet, rather, filled with any sort of medicine and treatment one can imagine needing to treat in such a small mining community. At first it did shock me to think that surgical procedures and more modern treatments require a patient to be referred to Calgary, but I should think it's not too unlike how most of our lot go up to London for any sort of medical check-up. The letter I received from the Alberta Ministry of Health informed me that the job would mostly be based in the surgery with the occasional need to pay house visits to some patients should the need arise so I'm not terribly worried about the job being out of my scope of ability.
What I do feel a bit more restless about however, is a different situation altogether; the handsome Constable.
I know it's terribly ill advised to have such thoughts about a literal law enforcement figure whilst here, but I simply can't help it. He's perhaps the most beautiful man I'd ever seen in my life. His eyes are so deep and warm that I just want to seek refuge in them through the cold Canadian winters. His hair perfectly styled and a dark golden blond; his cheeks lightly tanned from hours riding on patrol in the prairie sun, no doubt.
All one's life one has had to rely on one's instinct to tell which men are like me; and if I could I'd bet a hefty sum on the fact that Constable Wilson was indeed one of 'our sort'. I've never seen such a handsome, tall, clearly muscular man who exudes confidence and heart throbbing masculinity be so vulnerable and bashful. Yet here I am feeling a fluttering within my chest every time he smiles and shows off those gorgeous dimples that make me melt like butter on a hot summer's morning.
Edward told me to be careful whilst in Canada, and I can't help but hear his voice in my head every time my heart and body tells me how handsome the young Constable is. Regardless of how utterly smitten I feel by his appearance and demeanour, I will however have to tread carefully henceforth. And one only prays that on is successful in doing thus.
I do rather like the house, though terribly unconventional, perhaps it is in a way more akin to me than one might realise. On the outside it's an older yet rather well maintained two-storey Victorian house, with electricity already added and some of the amenities updated; one truly can't complain about it. I haven't met anyone barring Thomas and his rather adorable little son, Danny; but from the beautiful view of the town from my bedroom window I can't help but see potential in this picturesque little town with it's clean fresh air and idyllic charm. From first glance I should think it'll do rather splendidly, as a home from home...
Love, Henry.
Henry put down his fountain pen and slipped a sheet of blotting paper over the freshly written page; resting his elbow on the mahogany bureau he let his gaze wander upward towards the glass windowpane before him. The view from his room was simply breathtaking; he could see past idyllic old buildings lined up along high street in the foreground, but it was what lay beyond the horizon that truly took Henry's breath away. Out in the distance he could see the plentiful plains of the Canadian Prairies dotted with some clusters of wooded areas each like a bouquet of colours; green from the evergreen firs and burning bright oranges, reds and yellows from the trees that would shed their leaves soon as winter knocked on the prairies' doorstep. Even further in the distance he could see the faintest outline of the Canadian Rockies' rugged, jagged peaks way out in the horizon.
Glancing down on his watch on his wrist he immediately noted that the time was off; not only had he forgotten to wind it, but he'd also neglected to change it since he'd got to Québec. On the train there was someone constantly reminding him of the time that he'd never seen the need to do so, though now he felt it rather foolish that he'd spent the better part of his first day in Alberta prancing about his room unpacking and never once keeping track of the time.
A slight smile crept over Henry's handsome face, his deep blue eyes brightening ever so slightly as an idea swept across his mind; though he wasn't sure if it was a brilliant or foolish idea. He hopped up from the wooden chair he was sitting in and straightened out his waistcoat and trousers before he stalked over towards the looking glass to get a quick look at the state of himself. Running his hands through his messy dark hair to push it up out of his face. He bit his lower lip thoughtlessly as he glanced his reflection up and down, turning this way and that to examine his trousers and waistcoat before leaning in to check his face.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out with a huff, he stood tall and turned on his heels towards the door; keeping his gait confident and concerted as he stepped out into the hallway and marched up towards the closed door at the end of the long corridor. What are you doing... Henry asked himself, grimacing conflictedly as he stood there for a second with his hand hovering over the doorknob. He wasn't one to have these little crushes that left him blushing like a shy schoolboy; yet here he was looking for an excuse as ridiculous as asking for the time as a means to talk more with the handsome Mountie.
You need to know the time, Henry reasoned with himself in his head; It's not a terribly odd query to ask of someone. He nodded to himself, having successfully convinced his very conflicted mind as he went on and opened the door just enough to slip through, though he made no effort to close it back. A part of him thinking it best that he leave the door open. As he tiptoed down the hallway as the floorboards creaked under his leather shoes; he could feel his heart pounding within his chest; his heartbeat gradually rising in speed and intensity to the point at which had he not known better he might've reckoned it to be audible to others around him.
Most of the doors on that side were shut barring a few through which spilt a bit daylight into the otherwise dark corridor; he knew he ought to call out for the man, but when he parted his lips to do so, no sound seemed to come out. He continued down the way before stopping right at the door frame to one of the open rooms and took yet another deep breath.
Alright, all you've got to do is ask him what time it is? That's simple enough, is it not? Go on then! Get on with it. Henry closed his eyes and talked himself down, fluttering his lashes open with yet another cleansing exhale as he took the final step forward in good faith; but just as he did he felt another body collide against his. A stronger taller body. Before he could even register what had transpired he felt his back slam against the floor, blinking away the daze of sudden confusion he looked up to see none other than Thomas on top of him.
Henry stared up at the handsome bond with wide eyes and a heaving chest as he felt his cheeks heating up. Thomas' honey brown eyes fixated on his face as they stayed like that for what felt like a small eternity; though to be fair it was likely mere seconds before they realised they were in a rather compromising position. Henry could feel Thomas' hands breath on his lightly parted lips, granted that their faces were a mere inch apart from one another.
"Oh um. S-so sorry. I didn't see you there." Thomas shook the perplexed look off his face and pushed himself up off of Henry's slender body; standing up and brushing off his pristine white vest that left his bulging muscular arms exposed his deltoids and biceps; meticulously tucked into his well fitted khaki trousers which were held up by black braces that ran over his wide, built shoulders.
"No, erm, I should be the one apologising; I'm terribly sorry, that was awfully clumsy of me." Henry blushed as he pushed himself up to standing and stood awkwardly before the handsome tall man. His eyes glazed over as he took in the sight of the taller blond; though he was devastatingly attractive in his uniform, these casual clothes left even less up to Henry's wild imagination. His cotton vest barely obscuring his strong chest abdominal muscles beneath.
"No, no. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should've been watching where I was going." Thomas awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. "Is there something you needed help with?"
"Oh erm, yes! Sorry. I wanted to ask if you had the time?" Henry forced a skittish smile as he glanced down at the watch on his slender wrist; his fingers grazing over the crystal surface thoughtlessly. "It appears as though I've neglected to set my watch back during the journey..." Henry explained with the tone one uses when they feel the need to explain themselves unnecessarily.
Thomas' eyes shot up and locked in on Henry's; a dimpled smile blossoming over his handsome face as he let slip a quiet chuckle. Henry's stared perplexedly at the man's strange reaction to such a seemingly mundane query. What the devil could possibly be amusing about asking one for the time? He wondered inside his rather muddled head.
"I'm sorry, is something the matter?" Henry asked curiously.
"Oh um, no. Nothing of the sort. Just, reminded me of something..." Thomas shook his head and he licked his lower lip to suppress his smile as he glanced up to see the pretty raven haired lad before him staring at him as though he were speaking a foreign tongue. "Ah, Yes. The time. Sorry." Thomas glanced down at his watch on his wrist. "It's half past four."
"Half four, brilliant. Thank you so much." Henry smiled with a grateful nod, popping out the little metal button on the side of his watch face and turning the hands to the corresponding time. "Crikey, it's jolly bright out for half four. Back home it'd nearly be dark out by half four at this time of year."
"Funny." Thomas smiled warmly at the handsome dark haired young man. "My Mum used to say the same thing... She and my Dad moved from England before my sister and I were born."
"Oh?" Henry felt a bittersweet feeling of nostalgia mixed with dread as he remembered his homeland. It was an odd sentiment for Henry, he never thought he loved his country and always found empty and loud patriotism to be a vulgarly American; nonetheless as he found himself missing home he felt like
"Yeah... Growing up they'd always tell me stories about England but my mum was a seamstress and dad worked in the mines; we never had enough to afford the journey home." Thomas nodded enthusiastically. "But I did get to visit the little town they were from on the way home from the War."
"I'm glad you got to go visit, then. It must've been nice." The corners of Henry's lips perked up into a slight smile.
"Bitter-sweet really." Thomas tensed his jaw allowing Henry to infer that there was more to the story that the Constable wasn't disclosing, though Henry daren't pry further.
"Did she have trouble at first, your mum? With being homesick and the sort?" Henry asked out of both curiously and as a swift means of redirecting the conversation away from what he'd only assumed was a sore spot for Thomas.
"She did at first, naturally. Being away from her family, her friends, all she had was us. But soon enough she started working as a seamstress and she found her niche; after that this became home. She realised home isn't always a place or a country, it can be who you surround yourself and how much you love them and them you." Thomas admitted with pursed lips as he stared off into the distance. "I'm sure this is weird to you; new country, new life, new everything. But I guarantee with time this will be your home too."
"I should hope so." Henry blushed, smiling up at the handsome man, only letting his eyes sneak one last glimpse of the Greek god of a man before him before he disappeared . "Right, well, thank you so much for the time. I really should be off now." Henry nodded farewell politely at the taller man to which Thomas silently reciprocated, watching as Henry turned around and began to walk away a few paces.
"Hey! Um..." Thomas called out to him, watching as the raven haired boy craned his neck to look at him again with a hum of acknowledgement. "So um... I meant to mention this earlier. There's only one kitchen in the house; we're meant to share it... And I was wondering... You can refuse if you'd prefer a bit of solitude... But I was wondering if you'd want to have supper with me and the boys... It's nothing too fancy, I'll be the first to admit; but we'd be more than happy to share, if you'd like that is... But you don't have to if you don't um... w-"
"I'd like that." Henry cracked a slight smile, feeling the corners of his mouth perk up ever so slightly. "I'd like that very much."