Daniel climbed out of the cab and tipped the driver, turning to stare at the impressive building before him. It was the town hall, bedecked in white marble statues and ornate glasswork that leant it an air he was not quite sure it deserved. Town hall or not, Oyster Creek was not particularly big. He wondered if public taxes had bought those rather extravagant furnishings and laughed to himself at the thought that the public services might be just as dubious on occasion here as back home in England.
Still, he was not here to stare at the building, interesting or not. He was here to visit the public archives and hope they had a copy of the Birch family tree. Failing that he would spend the day looking through the birth and death registers and trawling through old newspapers. He needed to find the answer when it came to that old will, whatever the answer might be.
The records office was located down a side street, towards the back of the town hall building. A small door with 'Records Office' printed on the glass stood lonely on the wall, the opposite side of the street equally bare. Clearly this was not a particularly well-frequented street.
He moved towards it, noticing with relief the "open" sign that hung on the other side, and reached for the handle. He felt it turn but the door did not budge. Trying again, he felt a flare of embarrassment. The door seemed unwilling to open.
He tried a third time, putting some weight behind his push. The door popped open with a judder and he found himself stumbling into the room with a rush of cold wind. A woman sat behind the reception desk looked up at him with a mixture of amusement and concern.
"Can I help you?" she said with a smirk as he pushed shut the door. Clearly he was not the first person she had seen struggling with the lock.
Daniel laughed as he turned back to her. "Yes, I suppose you can. Sorry about my entrance."
"It's the same for everyone. It's a dodgy lock. I've been using it for three years and sometimes still struggle. Town council won't pay for a new one when they can spend the money on another fucking statue."
She glanced at Daniel, then looked abashed. "Sorry, you don't care about my concerns with locks or councils." She laughed sweetly. "How can I help?"
He truly noticed her then. Her straight blonde hair was loose over her shoulders and she wore a pair of very attractive black glasses that suited her perfectly. A black jacket sat on top of a white blouse and Daniel could see even through the layers of garments that her breasts were clearly quite large. He guessed she was likely in her early-thirties, and she looked wonderful.
He cleared his throat then, realising it had taken him a moment or two longer than usual to answer her. "I need to look back at the history of a family here in Oyster Creek. Do you have anything like that?"
This time it was her turn to pause a moment before answering, and Daniel was not sure whether that same appraising look was in her eyes. He was fairly certain it was and he laughed silently to himself. The women in this town were quite outstanding.
At last she spoke, seeming to shake herself free from the same reverie within which had moments before been firmly entrenched. "How far back do you need to look?"
Daniel grimaced. "About fifty, sixty years or so. Hopefully that won't take very long, but I honestly don't know."
"Well, you'll have to put up with my company, I'm afraid. I'm on shift today."
"I think I can cope with that," Daniel laughed.
She grinned. "I'm glad. My name's Rebecca if you need my attention."
"Daniel, although most people call me Dan. Pleased to meet you."
She reached up to slide her jacket from her arms then, and Daniel could have sworn that she deliberately pushed her chest out as she did so, as if to highlight her large breasts. More than she needed to, at any rate, and the fact that she didn't break eye contact further evidenced that idea.
Surely she's not...?
Daniel shook his head and glanced away. It would do no good to go around thinking like that - a quick glance at an attractive woman was fine in his mind, but unless she made the first move he decided to stay well clear.
As it should be
.
Rebecca stood then, strolling over to him. She wore a black pinstriped pencil skirt that hugged her hips and long legs tightly, ending just after her knees, and black heels that lifted her feet a couple of inches or so off the ground. The loud
clack
of her steps on the wooden floor amused him slightly.
"Do you know where to look?"
He shook his head with a smile. "Not really. Where would the documents be?"
"Well, what is it you're after?"
"Birth, marriage and death certificates."
"All one family?"
"I hope so."
"You'll be best off looking at the family trees then. We had a drive a few years back; every family who had lived in Oyster Creek for more than two generations was given a tax rebate to let us store their family tree. To preserve our history, I suppose."
"Very noble."
He must have looked surprised, because she laughed. "Well, unlike you guys over the ocean we've only got a few hundred years. Can't afford to lose any of it."
She paused then, and looked at him a moment. Daniel returned the stare, still unsure as to whether there was an undercurrent there. He was beginning to think that it wasn't just his imagination. Abruptly, she smiled and looked away.
"This way." She motioned him to the other side of the room. There, she yanked open a drawer, and ran her fingers through the files before slightly nodding her head. "Yup, this is them. There's more in the two drawers below, too, depending on the surname."
"Thanks," Daniel said, stepping forwards and leafing through the folders to find '
Birch
'.