Sophie woke to the sound of her stomach growling. She was hungry, no doubt about it. She was going to have to find some ways to feed herself that was for sure. It was late in the morning and she could see people out the window moving about the city. Sophie found it odd to be living so close to everyone.
She dressed in her black mourning dress she wore for weeks after her father died. It felt comfortable almost like a shield against the world. People gave her more grace and offered her more kindness when she was dressed in her black dress. She was sincere in her mourning. She may not have met the man, but she did feel great sorrow for her loss. And, if she was truthful with herself, she knew that the black dress would slow the attention of other men. So, she was getting a little added benefit from it but she swore to herself she would only wear it because she was mourning Jeremiah's death.
She left the house and walked towards the governor's house. She wanted to check in with them but if she was being honest, she was hoping she could find something to eat. She saw Thomas working in his shop and she waved at him. He stopped working to stare at her. She was striking in her black dress, she knew it. He silently wondered if she looked bad in anything. He appreciated the gesture of the black dress. She was a stand up woman, he thought.
Sophie knocked on the door before entering the governor's house. She found him sitting at the table eating biscuits and porridge.
"Is it alright if I join you?" she asked politely.
"Please do Sophie," he said jovially. "Frida, bring Sophie some breakfast," he called to the kitchen.
"Oh, please. I will go get it."
"No, sit down please." He instructed. "Tell me how your evening was."
"It was good. I went through most of Jeremiah's belongings. I should finish the rest of it today."
"Did you find anything interesting?" he asked between bites.
"No, not really. Just the usual clothing and personal Knick knacks and bobbles. He kept a journal with maps of the area. I actually find that very helpful."
Frida walked in the dining area with a tray of food.
"What's this?!" she said in astonishment taking Sophie in.
"What? Oh," Sophie looked down at her dress. "Mourning clothing," she said with a shrug.
"Mourning for what?" Frida asked not hiding her irritation.
"For my husband to be and the life I didn't get to have. I wanted to honor him." Sophie tried to smile sweetly. Her charm didn't appear to be working. Frida's face was scrunched up with irritation.
"Well, is that really necessary? And do you know how difficult it is to find a husband dressed in all black like that?"
"I think it is important that I honor Jeremiah. It feels right." Sophie said again, hiding the amusement in her voice. She knew it was evil that she found a little joy in irritating Frida. Frida was her lifeline to food right now. She should probably be more careful, she thought.
"I think it is very commendable of you Sophie," the governor said. "That was good of you to think of that."
Frida slammed the tray down in front of Sophie grumbling, "Why on earth do you even own a mourning dress," she hissed.
"I only stopped wearing it a month before I made my voyage here, because of my father's death," she explained as if she was oblivious to Frida's irritation. "I guess I almost feel more comfortable in it than anything else."
"Well, not for long in this August heat," Frida added as she slumped in her own chair.
"Frida, I am so spoiled by your cooking. If I could just be half the cook as you, I could land any husband I wanted." Sophie knew how to flatter Frida.
"I don't think you will need cooking to help you land a man dear, I think you just have to pick one. Weren't you paying attention at all yesterday?"
"You flatter me," Sophie giggled. "Thank you,"
"So what did you think of Jeremiah's cottage?" the governor asked.
"It is so lovely," Sophie said without hesitation. "I am only sad that I don't actually get to live there. I feel like I was almost really lucky."
They sat in silence for several moments. Sophie ate her food gratefully.
"What do you think happened to him?" Sophie asked, breaking the silence.
"I wish I could say," he answered. "I think most people believe that the Indians got to him, but there is no way to know for sure."
"Such a tragedy," Sophie said softly.
Both Frida and the governor nodded in agreement.
After breakfast Sophie went back to the cottage and continued going through Jeremiah's items. She found a few novels by the bedside table and another journal. This one was more personal. It had an entry for nearly every day in the last year. It appeared to be mostly daily dictations of what he did that day, not necessarily personal entries. He wrote about things with the colony, when the first snow happened that year and even some of the citizens of the colony. The entry on the day he received notice of Sophie's arrival was more personal.
'I received a letter from England with the name and portrait of my future wife, Sophie Collins. She is the daughter of an earl in northern England and appears to be a very accomplished young woman. She is also the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on.'
Sophie smiled as she read on. She felt that warmth again, the one she attributed to Jeremiah's presence. She thought she could almost feel him blushing. This was a bit of an invasion of his privacy.
"Sorry, but you aren't here to stop me," she said teasingly to her ghost husband. A few pages later she saw her name again, and then again on the next. He was excited for her arrival. On one page she saw in his small script her name written with his last name. Sophie Singer. Her heart melted. It was a beautiful thing to see.
"That is really sweet," she said again out loud. "Sounds good too, Sophie Singer." She smiled big testing the name on her lips.
She could hear his tenor voice again in her mind, "Alright enough of that. This is embarrassing."
She giggled out loud.
"We would have gotten along real well Jeremiah Singer," she said with a sigh.
The voice in her head: 'Yeah, we would have.'
"Why did this happen Jeremiah? What happened to you?" she asked.
"Look under the bed," the voice in her head said softly.
She peered under the bed. It was completely clean, she had already pulled his boots out from under it. There wasn't even a dust bunny.
"There is nothing there," she said. If Thomas walked in right now, he would really think she had lost her mind. She rolled her eyes at herself. She really was a foolish woman.
"Push the bed back," the voice said.
"Taking orders from my imagination," she mumbled under her breath. "It's heavy, I'm not going to be able to move it." She said defiantly as she put her hands on the edge and shoved. The bed sled backwards easily. She looked beside her expecting to see someone, maybe Thomas, helping her push the bed. There was no one.
"Right, that's not weird at all," she said uneasily. "I just have bursts of strength occasionally."
She thought she heard the voice chuckle.
In the middle of the floor under the bed she saw a break in the wood flooring, where it had been cut.
"There," The voice said.
Using her nails she was able to pry up the loose pieces of wood revealing a leather pouch hidden beneath the floorboards. She worked the pouch out from under the flooring and blew the dirt that had collected on it. She pushed the leather flap back and pulled out the ledger that was inside. It was a financial ledger with lists of deposits and withdrawals all written in Jeremiah's small writing. Several of the items were circled.
"Jeremiah, I don't understand what this is," It felt good saying his name. She thought that she felt her ever present ghost feel pleased to hear her said it too.
'You don't have to understand.' The voice in her head said. 'Just keep it. Don't show anyone yet.'
"You are either getting more bossy or I am getting better at listening to you," she said as she put it back into the leather pouch.
The voice laughed and then said, 'It's both.'
She went to put the ledger in her basket when she was instructed by the voice not to. 'No,' he said firmly. 'Hide it."
"Do they have insane asylums in America yet? Because I'm pretty sure that is where I am going to end up if this continues. Maybe I will be the first patient," she mused as she obeyed the voice.
The voice in her head laughed. 'I will make sure that doesn't happen.'
She put the ledger in the burlap sack and wrapped it in his clothing.
"Is that acceptable sir?" she asked the nothingness.
'Yes, thank you,' the voice said warmly.
"At least you are polite."
'Always a gentleman,' he said.
"I don't believe that,"
'Pardon me?" the voice sounded confused.
"You were here when I undressed last night weren't you?" she accused looked around the room as if she might finally see him.
'You caught me,' he laughed. 'I was also there when you bathed."
"What?" She scoffed, horrified. She whirled around as if she could see him. Of course she couldn't. He wasn't really there. She was having a full blown conversation with either herself or a ghost. Both options meant she was legitimately crazy.
"You were there?" she hissed.
'Oh come on, you were supposed to be my wife…' he tried to sooth.
She refused to argue with a ghost. This was the most ridiculous thing she had ever participated in.
"Right, fine. Enjoy the view I guess," she said with a shrug.
'I will,' It was the weirdest thing to hear laughing in her mind.
"Okay, back to business, this ledger has something to do with your death?"
She felt him 'speak' quieter. "Yes, hush. Keep it to yourself for now."
"Right," she breathed. "Well is there anything else I missed Jeremiah?"
'I like it when you say my name, it makes me feel alive,' he said.
"Well, you're not alive. You're dead and I'm cleaning up everything aren't I?" She wasn't sure why she was irritated but she was. She was a little pissed that he was dead.
'Sorry, terribly rude of me to die and all.' The voice in her head said. 'Go to the desk and pull out the side drawer.'
She obeyed and pulled out the empty drawer.
"Nothing, I already got everything out of here. It was mostly papers and bobbles."
'It's a false bottom,"
She pushed against the bottom, sure enough, it was a false bottom. She fiddled with it for a minute before she figured out how to lift it up. Underneath she found a velvet bag. Inside the bag were several pieces of silver. She poured them out into her hand. They clinked together and the fell.
"Jeremiah," she breathed.
"No sorry, it's me Thomas."