My Home From Home (ManxMan)

Chapter 5

Halifax, Nova Scotia - September 1920

Henry closed the book he was reading as he heard the ships bellowing fog horn sound, glancing up towards the window in his cabin and perking up in his seat to catch a glimpse of the outside. Running his hand through his dark brown hair he pushed himself up to standing, squinting as the harsh bright sun in the horizon taxed his eyes. And there in the distance he saw through the Maritime fog, land...

It had been a gruelling and difficult six day journey from Southampton to Halifax. Most of which he'd spent locked up in his first class cabin, lost in a book or staring off into the distance contemplating his now dismally dull life. Often times simply he'd order his dinner into his cabin to avoid having to deal with people. Young Henry wasn't accustomed to the concept of lying, which made the idea that he'd have to live a lie whilst in Canada made it all the more difficult.

As he disembarked, Henry couldn't help but feel like he was back home; the foggy autumn air, the overcast sky , the chill in the light breeze . It all reminded him of England and he was beginning to think he made the right decision to choose Canada. After clearing customs his first order of business was to send a telegram back to London to inform his family that he'd arrived safely and upon completing that task he hailed a taxi to take him to the Halifax Railway Station to catch the next train bound for Québec City.

He didn't know much about Canada barring that it was part of the British Empire, some people spoke French, and that it got jolly cold and snowy in the winter. Henry rather hated snow; which was one reason he was pleased to leave Aberdeen after boarding school. Nonetheless Henry figured he'd simply acclimatise to his new surroundings, he hadn't much of a choice in the matter anyway; though the sheer difference in volume between an English winter and one in the Truth North would come to surpass even Henry's imagining.

Halifax was a picturesque port city that Henry couldn't help but find absolutely charming as he stares out the taxi window silently observing the people going about their business on the streets. The architecture reminded him of home to no end as he gazed at the passing building edifices and trees bringing bright with deep maroons, fiery reds and burning yellow  coloured leaves as Autumn was clearly under way.

When he finally got to Halifax station and sat on the train bound for Québec he felt a strange sense of hope kindling within him; perhaps this new chapter in Canada would be good for him. Since he'd returned from France during the war, he'd felt this itching to leave his privileged life and simply run; not so much as knowing where to, nor how. To simply be free from the shackles of the English aristocracy and high society. The same social obligations that Henry loathed growing up seemed to be all the more unbearable after the war; perhaps it was the war in and of itself that prompted Henry's shift in perspective.

War did a number on Henry; though he felt a sense of duty to King and Country whilst helping to treat men injured on the battlefield, he'd never truly forget the stench of sulphur explosives and gunpowder mixed with death in the air. He could still see the looks in the eyes of those men, broken from the inside out by not only the injuries that maimed them, but also the images seared in their psyches of their comrades-in-arms slaughtered before their eyes. The deep drowning he'd feel when he's lose yet another man who was brought into the hospital tent with deaths shadow looming over their shoulder.

Henry glanced over towards his cases, a smile creeping across his handsome face as he remembered little Anna's gift for him. He leant over and picked up the leather suitcase, huffing as he hoisted it up onto the seat opposite him. He undid the buckle and opened the case, feeling a warm sensation in his heart as his eyes graced over the leather-bound diary with a bright red ribbon lovingly placed within the pages.