Sarah’s Destiny
(The Ancestors)
By Vicky Adin
(The Ancestors)
By Vicky Adin
Publication Date: April 9th, 2025
Publisher: AM Publishing New Zealand
Pages: 354
Genre: Historical Fiction / Women's Historical Fiction
Young Sarah Daniels is the heart, soul and future of The White Hart Inn on the Welsh Back. Alongside the quay and wharves on Bristol’s floating harbour, she dreams of finding love, and a destiny where she can escape the drudgery and tragedy that life usually delivers Victorian women. But dreams are free, and few share her ideals. When reality strikes, and Sarah learns the hard way that life is unkind, one man offers her hope.
Through many decades of heart-aching loss, false promises and broken dreams, the young widow clings to that one hope. With six children to care for, she takes risks few others would consider. She breaks conventions and makes sacrifices to keep that hope alive.
Will her wishes come true, or is she destined to be another unfortunate in the sea of many?
Excerpt
Early one morning, a few weeks later, while readying for the breakfast crew but before she’d unbolted the main doors, she heard screams like nothing she’d heard before.
Terror-struck, she ran towards the kitchen. She could smell burning as smoke wafted into the corridor, and knew they were in serious trouble. As she ran through the kitchen door, she was met by a wall of fog. She raised her arm instinctively to protect her eyes, trying to see what had happened. Embers from the cooker lay on the stone floor and flames were starting to eat at the wooden table.
“Ma? Molly? Where are you?” she shrieked at the top of her voice.
From a distance, somewhere towards the outside door, she heard Molly shouting. “Outside. Out back.”
“Stay there!” ordered Sarah.
“Oh, whatever shall we do?” Molly wailed.
Overtaken with black smoke, Sarah began to cough. She backed out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. She reached for the leather fire bucket they kept by the stairs and threw water at the door to damp it down. Then she rolled up the floor rug and stuffed it into the gap to prevent the smoke escaping.
Muttering to herself, her thoughts raced ahead. “Hope that holds. For now. Must call the brigade. I can’t lose this place. Not now. I’ve got to save it. I just have to.”
Bucket in hand, she raced into the taproom, gathered up a second pail, and tried to unbolt the door.
“Come on, you stupid thing!” she cried, frustrated that it hadn’t slid easily the first time. Wasting precious seconds, she put the buckets down and used two hands. Finally, the bolt freed, she again grabbed the buckets and ran around into the alley that took her to the rear of the building. Breathless, she was glad to see Ma safely sitting on a stool well away from the kitchen wall. Molly was throwing water ineffectually from the trough into the doorway.
“We need a chain of people, Molly. Go sound the alarm. Make sure the brigade’s been called and send people this way.”
“I sent Ada. They should be on their way.”
Sarah nodded as she repeatedly filled the bucket and tossed water as far into the kitchen as possible. She doused the door and frame. Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear Ma shouting, and in that moment an extra jolt of panic surged through her. Where was JJ? He should have been with Ma.
Shortly after, people arrived, and men took over the front position. Bucket after bucket was passed from hand to hand, but from her now safe position at the back she feared they wouldn’t save much, but hoped they might save the upstairs. She prayed the door in the stone wall held, between the main part of the building and the kitchen.
The clanging of bells and the clop of hooves announced the arrival of the fire engine.
“Step out of the way, lady,” said one of the uniformed firemen, pushing her aside. “Let the professionals do their job.”
The adrenaline that had kept Sarah going drained away as soon as the pump was going and the hose began to make short work of the fire. Smoke billowed everywhere, irritating eyes and throats, and visibility was minimal. Suddenly, Sarah’s earlier sense of panic returned as she realised she had no idea who had JJ.
“Ma,” she called croakily, breaking into a spasm of coughing. “Ma?” She tried again, her throat burning with the effort. She felt her way along the wall to where she remembered seeing her mother last. “Ma?” she sobbed.
“I’m here,” Betsey finally answered, sounding a lot further away than Sarah thought. “Where are ya, girl? I need ya to help me. I can’t see for all this smoke, and it’s hurting my lungs.”
“I’m here, Ma,” Sarah said, finally reaching Ma, her eyes red with weeping as she struggled for breath.
“Give me an ’and and ’elp me up.”
Taking hold of Betsey’s arm, Sarah helped her mother to her feet. “But Ma, where’s JJ? I can’t see him. I must find him!”
“He’s fine. I sent him round to Mary’s.”
Sarah sucked as much air into her lungs as she could, almost sobbing with the pain. “On his own? Why? He’s not safe on his own. He’s only four.”
“Phht! He’ll be fine. It’s only round a corner or two. He knows the way and he’s much better there than here.”
Sarah had to agree he was safe at Mary’s – if he got there. “I have to go check, Ma. I have to see him.”
“What for?” she snapped but, after seeing her daughter’s face, capitulated. “Al’right. Off with ya then. Molly’ll help me.”
Sarah picked up her skirts and began to run, but within moments was forced to stop. Bent over nearly double, she struggled to breathe as a coughing fit took hold. Using the walls of the houses for support, she made her way to her sister, her mind arguing with her instinct. She needed to see for herself that her boy was safe.
Shortly, Mary’s door opened before her. Sarah stepped into the gloomy hall searching everywhere for JJ. “He’s in the kitchen, sis. And perfectly well,” said Mary.
Sarah hurried down the corridor and, seeing the child sitting on a stool at the table, swept him up into her arms. “Mama’s here now, JJ. You’re safe, my boy. You’re safe. Thank God.”
JJ started squirming and wriggling but Sarah didn’t care. She clung on tightly, even while scenes of the devastation at The White Hart, awaiting her return, played on her mind. “I can’t lose you. I can’t. I wouldn’t survive if anything happened to you.”
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Vicky Adin
Like the characters in her books, Vicky has a passion for family history and a love of old photos, antiques, and treasures from the past. After researching the history of the time and place, and realising the hardships many people suffered, Vicky knew she wanted to write their stories. Tales of love and loss, and triumph over adversity. Her latest release, Sarah’s Destiny, Book 1 of The Ancestors series, is inspired by a true love story set in Bristol.
Vicky particularly enjoys writing inter-generational sagas, inspired by true stories of early immigrants to New Zealand, linked by journals, letters, photographs, and heirlooms.
She’s an avid reader of historical novels, family sagas and women’s stories and loves to travel when she can. She has a MA (Hons) in English and Education. Her story of Gwenna won gold in The Coffee Pot Book Club Women’s Historical Fiction Book of Year in 2022 and several of her books carry the gold B.R.A.G medallion.
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