Chapter seven: a new clue!

When I was in Bree I had met a jeweller, called Madge Woodsey. I showed her the coloured pebble I carried with me, this gift of  Yola to her daughter.  To my surprise and great pleasure I was told the stone was called a rubellite. Oh! This is where I got my name from! I really liked the stone and it’s beautiful colour and now that I knew it was what gave me my name, I loved it even more. It awoke my interest for gems and jewellery and I since then have trained to become a jewel-maker myself. And for sure: a ruby is different from a rubellite, so no more calling me Ruby, anyone!
It was time to continue my search for my real parents. But the Shire was such a big place! I would not know where to begin. It’s main town was almost as far away from Buckland as was Bree. Pa gave me and old an wrinkled map of the Shire. It almost fell apart, but with it I could better plan my search. I gratefully embraced Pa and gave Ma a hug too. Again they would see me leave their burrow, my home for all this time that I had lived with them.
And again they walked with me all the way to Newbury Gate and then onto the bridge across the Brandywine. Last kisses and hugs and then I mounted Francesca, my loyal pony. They kept waving until I was out of sight. I felt both lucky and humble, realising they had always given me so much love, without me being their own flesh and blood. No, I would never, ever forget what they had done for me! It almost felt like a betrayal, that I now went out to find another mother and father. But I knew they agreed with me doing so and had given me all the help I needed. My pack was full of gifts and food that they had so lovingly made for me. I would always love Pa and Ma, even if I would find Yola and my unnamed father.
From the top of Brandy Hill I had often seen the little community of Stock in the distance, with it’s prominent tower, but I had never been there until now. It is only a little community indeed and I was planning to ride on to Michel Delving to try my luck there. It was a long shot, but when I encountered an inhabitant of Stock, I dismounted and asked her about Yola Plumblossom. It was a good thing I had dismounted, as I would have fallen of my pony when she replied: “Yola? Yes, I know her. She used to live right here.” And she pointed at a small burrow nearby. I was so excited that I did not know what to ask next. I was just standing there, staring at the hobbit lady in front of me, with my mouth wide open, totally surprised. But she did not need any new questions, she kept on talking: “O, I remember them , that poor unlucky family! After that most unfortunate accident that killed both parents, the grandmother took care of the two children. The poor laddie took it very hard and they had to send him to Rivendell in the end, to be cured, see? And his sister, Yola,..” “Was he called Peppy, that brother?”, I intervened. If he was, I was on the right track! “Peregrin he was called, but all called him Peppy, aye.” I couldn’t believe it! I had found someone who knew my real mother!! “Can you take me to her, please?”, I anxiously requested. “Sorry, but no, love. She does not live here anymore and I have no idea where she may be now.” My bubble of happiness and enthusiasm burst again. The hobbit kept talking: “One day she just vanished and with the laddie away in Rivendell, their gammer sold the burrow and went away too.” I was thinking fast: could this gammer be the one that had delivered me as a baby to Pa and Ma? “Did Yola have a baby?”, I asked. But the hobbit shook her head to indicate she did not know about a baby. I grabbed this opportunity and meant to make the most of it. My father’s name! “Did she have friends? a boyfriend? Do you have any names?”. She nodded but then shook her head. “O, surely, Yola had many friends, but I cannot remember her having a particular boyfriend.” I jotted down some names she mentioned, and thanked the lady from the bottom of my heart. At last I had found something, albeit not much. I asked more Stock hobbits about Yola, but I got no further information as to where she might be now. But it was a start and I was happy. But what could be the next step? Now that I knew more about Yola, I knew she had lived in Stock, I knew the names of her parents, I could go to the authorities in Michel Delving.
I rode as far as Bywater where I stopped at the local inn, the Green Dragon, intending on spending the night there. It was a friday night and the place was filled with many hobbits, happily drinking, eating, singing and dancing. A lad invited me to dance, but with a blush on my cheeks, I politely declined. I had never learned how to dance! I listened to the lovely music for a while and then withdrew to the other side of the inn, where there was another fireplace. I sat and let the events of the day pass again in my mind. As I reached into my pack for something to eat, my hand found the neglected newspapers I still carried with me: two copies of the Staddle Post and one quite old edition of the Bramblebury Gazette. The Staddle Post was mostly about agricultural things, which did not have my interest. I quickly paged through them and then picked up this Bramblebury Gazette. “Your best source of information about Bramblebury and the Shire” it boasted. I turned the page and almost fainted..

Next: A gazette with bad news!