Beginning ,Section II, Section III, Next Section

Chapter Twelve:

Posted on Wednesday, 6 July 2005

The party at the pub had been a merry one, and lasted until closing time. Mary had reveled in her seafood to the point of raptures, and the whole group had been amused. Harville and Fred fell into a hundred reminiscences, and Louisa joined in merrily, even though she had no notion of the people or places they were talking about. Anne found herself talking to James, whom she found to be an interesting conversationalist, if occasionally prone to bouts of depression. Their conversation had ranged from poetry to travel, family to food, and Anne was quite pleased. She said farewell a little reluctantly at the end of the night, and the group headed back towards their bed and breakfast a little cautiously, unsure of how the landlady would take the late hour of their appearance.

Anne awoke the next morning to see brilliant sun, the cold and glittering kind that appears only when it is quite cold out. She wrapped up warmly in jeans and a gray wool sweater of flattering cut, as well as red mittens and scarf, before slipping out into the crisp morning. She had had the room to herself, and was peaceably lost in her own thoughts when the door to Hetty and Louisa’s room opened, and Hetty’s face with mussed morning hair peered out. She smiled when she saw Anne.

“Oh, hullo! I was looking for Louisa. She’s not here.”

Anne’s thoughts flicked to Frederick for a moment, alarmed that perhaps they had shared a room for the night.

“She was here two hours ago, I know,” chattered on Hetty, relieving Anne, “She told me to go back to bed, she was taking a walk, but I thought maybe she’d be back. I forgot my contact lens solution, and hoped maybe she could find me some. And I just knocked my case all over the floor, I’m a mess. You wouldn’t happen to have any, would you?”

“No, I don’t wear them,” said Anne. “But you could ask Mary or Frederick.”

“Fred wears them?” asked Hetty, curious. “I didn’t know that.”

Anne cursed at herself for so flippantly reeling off personal details from her former relationship with Fred. “He does,” she answered, lamely.

“Would you go and ask, please, please?” asked Hetty. “I’m blind except at this range, and I’d love to take a look around before breakfast.”

Anne nodded, briefly, and headed towards Charles and Mary’s door, where she knocked gently. Charles, already dressed for the day, answered.

“Hullo, Anne! What’s the trouble?”

“It’s Hetty. Can she borrow Mary’s contact solution?”

“I’m sure she can, though Mary’s asleep. I’ll just grab it, and if you could return it, Mary’d be grateful.” Anne smiled, and accepted the bottle, and handed it to Hetty. About ten minutes later she emerged from the room, smiling and dressed.

“You’re a darling, Anne.”

“Thank Mary, not me.”

“I suppose she needs it back?”

“Yes.”

“Where were you off to before I interrupted,” asked Hetty, as they walked side by side along to Mary’s room.

“A walk,” said Anne. “I saw the sun, and I wanted to be outside, cold or not.”

“Can I join? Maybe we’ll meet Lou.”

“All right,” agreed Anne, and they set off towards the shore, where the old esplanade was still intact. The sea breezes ruffled their hair, and Anne pulled hers back into a loose ponytail to keep it from her face.

“Smell the air,” breathed Anne, quietly, and Hetty tried her best to match Anne’s rapture.

“It’s lovely,” she said. “Salt, and fresh.”

“It’s delicious. It reminds me of... I don’t know, some of the wilder beaches I’ve been to – cold and salty. Invigorating, wouldn’t you say?” she asked with a smile.

“Whatever you say,” said Hetty, wondering if Anne was one of those nature nuts. They progressed along their path, falling into quiet conversation on this and that. The wind whipped around them, and Anne put her hand up to her cheeks, which were cold, and no doubt rosy from the air. Hetty laughed.

“It’s not bad, really, you have more color than usual, and I must say it’s attractive. How do you manage to have such rosy cheeks and not a big red nose?”

“It’s not so big and red,” soothed Anne, taking a look at Hetty’s face. Hetty laughed. “You’re sweet, but I’m sure it’s a tomato.”

“Not at all! You look healthy and happy.” Hetty did. Her nose might be pinker than usual, but the color was highly attractive, boosting her normally rosy complexion. Her blue eyes sparkled and her long curls whipped in the wind until she wrapped her own scarf firmly over them. The two joked and laughed with each other along the path, the wind and animation doing much for Anne’s recently subdued looks. She was in such a carefree mood that she barely registered the fact that Fred was walking with Louisa until they reached them. Her merriment fell a little, but Fred suggested that the groups join, and Louisa claimed Anne’s arm, and drew ahead with her.

“Isn’t it lovely here? I want to stay for always. Or at least as long as the air is so fresh and crisp, and not full of fish. I hate the smell of fish, don’t you? I hope Hetty wasn’t dull. She has no imagination when it comes to natural beauty. I know you appreciate it. Let’s walk and enthuse as much as we like and not be sensible at all. Though I do wish we’d get back quickly so I could have breakfast. This air simply stimulates the appetite.”

Anne wondered if Louisa’s exuberant mood had anything to do with her walk with Fred. However, as much as that thought stung. Anne enjoyed her walk with Louisa, whom she genuinely liked, and who had an appreciation for landscapes similar to Anne’s, if more vocal. Anne could tell that Fred and Hetty were keeping decent time behind them, from snatches of conversation that reached them, and every once in a while Louisa would shout back, interrupting them.

They soon came to a stone stair, which they ascended single file, as it was quite narrow. Anne noticed a young man with dark brown hair and an expensive jacket, not much older than herself, back up along the stairs towards the head, to let the ladies and Fred pass. Hetty smiled at his gallantly, and passed along, as did Louisa. Anne did the same, but the stranger caught her gaze, and held it for a full minute. She read open admiration in his glance, and blushed. Fred, who had come up behind Anne glared at the young man behind her back, and turned his focus to Anne, critically, and admiringly for a moment. Her color was heightened, and it flooded her face with a pleasing blush, and her eyes looked more alive and merry than he had seen them since that summer years before. Her attire was simple, and pleasing, and complimented the blush and her eyes well. The old Anne was more evident than he had seen yet, and it made him catch his breath. She still existed, then. He knew that his own admiration must be evident, so he looked away, but not before Anne had caught a small glimpse of his face. She was confused, and blushed again, and caught up with Hetty, who was straightforward and soothing to be around.

Anne felt calmer by the time the group arrived back at their lodging for breakfast. She was a little startled at how much the odd expression on Fred’s face had flustered her, but he still had powers over her that she doubted he’d ever realize he possessed at this stage. Just as well. Being admired by the stranger (who had been decidedly attractive in his own right) had been flattering, but being admired by Fred was a little too much, especially since it seemed to be mere admiration, and not an effort to be friends again, or anything lasting.

Mary was annoyed with the group for going on a walk without her, even if she’d only woken up forty minutes before breakfast. Then she proceeded to complain of the coldness of the breakfast room, to the point that Anne volunteered to fetch Mary a jacket to go over her sweater.

“You don’t have to,” said Charles, quickly, “I can do it. You’ve just walked and must be tired,” he explained, solicitous.

“No, it’s fine,” said Anne. “I can put away my scarf and mittens at the same time. Hold some food for me, all right?” She left the room, and walked quickly back to the hallway on which the group had their rooms. First she grabbed Mary’s jacket, and then she dashed to her room to leave off her wraps. She shut the door firmly, then went back towards the breakfast room by means of the front stair. She paused a moment in surprise when she recognized a young man climbing the stair as the man from the esplanade.

“Good morning,” he said, in a velvety voice, with a smile showing even white teeth.

“Good morning,” answered Anne, still a little surprised, passing. She didn’t see him pause to examine her again, but instead proceeded briskly to the breakfast room, bearing the jacket.

“There you are,” said Mary. “I’d wondered what happened to you.”

Anne considered telling the group about her second meeting, but it didn’t seem the thing to do with Fred present, and watching her. When he realized she was looking at him he quickly returned to his toast. Anne shrugged, and took a seat at the other end of the table beside Charles, and helped herself to some oatmeal while trying to ignore the odor of Charles’s kippers. They all ate companionably for a while, making plans to gather Harville and James and to explore a path along the Jurassic cliffs with them. Mary interrupted the conversation for a moment, catching sight of a car that had just pulled up in front of the lodging.

“What a Porsche!” she exclaimed, admiring the expensive lines and air of luxury of the vehicle.

“What’s that?” asked Charles, interested in motors, and walking over to the window.

“Ooh!” cried Mary. “See him?” she squealed.

“It’s the man from the stairs,” said Louisa. “You remember who let us pass?”

“You met him?” breathed Mary. “He’s Elliot Williams.”

“Who?” asked Fred.

“You know. Or maybe you don’t. He was on Big Brother a year ago. Anne, do you know what I’m talking about?”

Anne walked over to the window, and looked out. “No. But he is the man from the stairs.”

“It’s a pity he didn’t stay and let himself be introduced,” said Fred, a little savagely.

“A celebrity! Here! A minor one to be sure, but he was dating what’s her name, that actress who was in that movie... they just broke up. Why would he be in Lyme? What a story to tell my friends from home!”

Hetty looked a little excited, being another Big Brother watcher, but the rest of the group was fairly indifferent, and conversation returned to the proposed walk.

The group, including James and Harville piled into the cars and drove a short way towards the cliffs to the west of Lyme Regis. Anne found that James was as pleasant a companion as he had been the night before, and they resumed their conversation as they walked along. James informed her of various geological facts as they walked, a little behind the others. Harville was busy charming Mary and Charles with stories of his experiences with these cliffs so far, and Fred followed them with Hetty and Louisa in tow.

“The cliffs are Jurassic clay deposits,” James explained, as Anne fingered a fossil he had removed from his pocket. There was a sea here, hence all the fossils. This is an ammonite. They’re pretty common here. One of the guys in my lab group found a fish fossil the other day, though I’ve had no such luck.”

“Didn’t they find a new kind of dinosaur here ten years ago or something?”

“About. A type of Ichthyosaur. Which reminds me, do you know who Mary Anning is?”

“Vaguely. Woman fossil-collector?”

“Yes. She found the first complete Ichthyosaur here in the nineteenth century.”

“That’s interesting.”

“If you want to see something really interesting you should go to Monmouth Beach. There are some giant ammonites there, like the one in your hand but vastly larger. They’re so big that no one can extract them without damaging them. I’m sorry that we can’t get closer to the edge to see the beach, but it’s not safe.”

“That’s fine. We’ll visit them before we leave,” promised Anne.

“Enjoying your break, then?” asked James.

“It’s been nice. A break from homework. It’s funny, there is so much less class time here, but so much more to do in the way of work back in the room. It’s interesting to see how things work at other schools, and in other places. How are you liking your experience?”

“I am,” he said, after a moment. “It’s nice to be out here in the places we’re studying, putting theory into practice.”

“I assume you do that back in Minnesota too?”

“Yes, and we have trips into the Black Hills, too. Ever been there?”

“No.”

“The area is lovely. Phoebe and I couldn’t get over everything we saw when we went in the fall of our Freshman year, even though she’d lived within a day’s drive of them.”

“I’ll have to see them some day, too,” said Anne, softly.

“You don’t mind me talking about Phoebe, do you?” he asked, suddenly. “It’s just... she was my everything, she was going to be my life. I had plans to ask her to marry me that year, the year she died.”

“I don’t mind. I lost someone... not in death, but lost someone, too.”

“You seem a good sort. Keep in touch, all right? I’ve enjoyed our talks. Here most of the group runs from me the moment I start talking about Pope and Wordsworth.”

“I don’t mind. I like poetry.”

“Yes, you seem to. Do you like Tennyson or Scott better?”

“I find them different, and I like each. ‘The Lay of the Last Minstrel’ is compelling and powerful, though sometimes I find Tennyson to speak such simple truths in such long flowery verse. I like ‘The Idylls of the King’, especially Elaine and Lancelot.”

“Which part?” he asked softly. “Tennyson speaks of the beauty and pain of love so well.”

Anne paused a moment before replying, as this was far more personal than she’d revealed to anyone. “I think... ‘I know not if I know what true love is, / But if I know, then, if I love not him, / I know there is none other I can love’,” she quoted softly.

“Yes, the pain,” said James. They were walking close beside each other, and he quoted softly in return, “’Sweet is true love tho’ given in vain, in vain; / And sweet is death who puts an end to pain.’* That’s the part that makes me pause.”

“But surely you can’t be as depressed as that,” cried Anne, a little surprised.

“No,” said James. He managed a smile, and hugged Anne briefly. “I’m not. I miss Phoebe so much, and I wish she could have known how much I loved her, but she’d want me to thrive.”

“Everyone does,” said Anne, squeezing his hand. “You have some good friends here, and more at home, I’m sure. And maybe you brood a little, but you know, faults make the man. As our friend Tennyson would say, ‘But friend, to me / He is all fault who hath no fault at all. / For who loves me must have a touch of earth’.”**

James broke into a genuine smile. “I am in awe of you, Anne Elliot. I’ve never met anyone who could quote Tennyson back at me.”

“Just one of my many talents,” teased Anne, surprised at how easily flirting came to her with James. He drew her arm closer in his, and opened his mouth to say something else to her, but stopped as he caught sight on something ahead. “Oh my God,” he breathed, and Anne looked towards the focus of his gaze. They both ran forward, for they had seen Louisa, who had been dancing about impishly, trip and the ground beneath her slip down, and she was carried towards the edge of the cliff quickly. Fred jumped forward, trying to grab her, but unable to reach her. He backed off quickly.

The group watched in horror, unable to get closer to her without joining her in the earth slide. With relief and alarm they watched as she hit against a tree, and lay caught there, unconscious, as the rest of the earth slide passed along beside her. Mary burst into tears and hysterics which Charles tried in vain to calm, and Hetty fainted away. Harville caught her, and stared, shocked, before laying her out beside Charles, and creeping forward. Anne and James rushed forward, to where Fred was gingerly creeping out towards Louisa.

“You don’t know what’s wrong with her,” called out Anne. “Don’t move her. Get a doctor.” Fred nodded, and began carefully yet steadily moving back towards the path.

“No, wait, Fred. James, you go, you know where to go.” Charles tossed his keys towards James, who ran off towards the path. Anne joined Harville and Fred in carefully clearing debris from around Louisa, and moving her arms into a more comfortable position. Fred looked very white, and Anne took charge of the situation. Once they had done as much as they could, Anne instructed Harville to revive Hetty, and Fred to sit down. Charles found Hetty’s keys, and Anne ordered him to escort Mary to the car, and then to fetch Hetty. She was about to order Fred to join them, but something in his eye, a desperation and fear made her soften. Impulsively she walked towards him, and rested a hand on his shoulder. He seemed shocked by her touch, but the extraordinary circumstances overruled any awkwardness. He grabbed hold of her hand, and held it tight, until the emergency crew arrived to put Louisa on a stretcher.

* Idylls of the King: Lancelot and Elaine. Line 1000.
** Idylls of the King: Lancelot and Elaine. Line 132.

Chapter Thirteen:

Posted on Tuesday, 12 July 2005

Elliot Williams smoothed his hair before getting out of his car, grinning at all the attention the Porsche was gathering from the pedestrian traffic. He liked to stand out in a crowd, though there wasn’t overly much traffic about at this point in the evening. Ever since graduating from university a few years ago, he’d spent a good bit of time traveling around the Isles, trying his hand at this or that. His degree was in advertising, and he expected that at some point he’d settle down and make use of the thing, but he wanted to have a bit of fun first, too. After a fairly successful stint in Big Brother he had a sort of glamour which made him popular with young people most everywhere he went, and his eighteen-month-long relationship with a starlet had been both pleasant and lucrative. She’d given him the Porsche as a Christmas present. They’d parted ways a few months ago, and he’d decided to embark upon a sort of scouting mission in Bath, where he had a few friends living, to see if there were any brilliant opportunities waiting to be exploited. Maybe another wealthy girlfriend, maybe an advertising venture, he didn’t much care at the moment. Whatever happened, happened, he could deal with it.

He tossed his keys to the valet standing near the door to the exclusive nightclub he’d chosen, and accepted his ticket stub casually, stuffing it into the pocket of his expensive Italian jacket, and grinned when he saw his old friend Marc Wallis leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.

“Marc, how goes it?”

“Not bad at all, Ell. I take it you want me to help you renew your membership?”

“Something like that. Where’s Kristi?”

“Home with a cold, how’s that? Doesn’t matter, I’m sure you’ll manage to stir the place up anyway.”

“It’s more fun dancing with my best friend’s wife. Well, I’ll carry on.”

They entered the foyer of the club, the bouncer nodding at Wallis as he passed. Wallis proceeded to short out Elliot’s membership, and Elliot checked his coat before entering the main room of the club. The music was loud, and the place reasonably full, for a Sunday night. Elliot grinned as he collected not a few stares from girls who recognized him from his stint on television. After downing a drink at the bar, he took a look around, to get an idea of the other clients.

“Not so bad,” he commented to Wallis. “Attractive girls, yes. Perhaps in a slightly artificial way, but maybe that’s just the nightclub lighting.” Wouldn’t see most of these women on an English beach in winter, he found himself thinking. The girl on the steps had been kind of cute, and looked like she had a brain, it was a shame he’d probably never see her again. As much as Elliot adored a sort of shallow lifestyle, he found vapid girls a distinct bore, unless he was flirting with them and they were gorgeous. One had to make exceptions sometimes.

“I think you have two fans,” muttered Wallis, gesturing at two girls across the room who were staring pointedly at Elliot. The taller was a striking brunette attired in an expensive looking skirt that flattered her long legs. The other girl was blonde and wore a shirt that showed off her chest a little too much. “How much do you want to bet that they’ll be over here in under ten minutes?”

“They will be, I don’t doubt it. They’re kind of attractive, in a showy way” Elliot remarked. “What does Kristi say about casually dancing in clubs?”

“Dancing’s fine,” said Wallis. He put down his glass on the bar. He kept his eyes on the mirror behind the bar. “They’re coming over,” he said, “what did I tell you?”

“Let’s pretend we don’t know what they’re about,” said Elliot, grinning. “It’s so much more fun.”

The tall brunette came over, and spoke with a slight drawl. “Excuse me,” she said, touching Elliot’s arm. He turned around. “Are you Elliot Williams?”

“Yes,” said Elliot, manufacturing a little uncertainly in his voice.

“ The Elliot Williams?”

“Yes,” he repeated.

“The Elliot Williams who was dating Eileen Parks ?”

“The Elliot Williams who was dating Eileen Parks.”

“Can I have your autograph?” squeaked the bosomy blonde. Elliot considered her a moment and decided that there was no way in hell she had that particular shade of hair naturally.

“Why not?” He picked up a bar napkin and took the pen Wallis, laughing silently, was proffering. “To whom shall I make it out to?” Elliot asked, with a smile.

“Oh, Nell. Nell Clay.” Elliot wrote out a short note to Nell on the napkin, and handed it to her.

“Is there anything you want?” he asked the striking brunette, who was still standing before him.

“A dance?” she asked, in cool, mocking tones.

“All right,” said Elliot. He moved onto the dance floor as the DJ changed the music to something fast and Latin, and began to dance. Nell Clay looked on enviously from the bar, taking in Marc’s wedding ring. He took pity on her at last.

“Care for a spin?” he asked, and she smiled.

A little further across the floor Elliot was struck by a realization. “What’s your name?” he asked the brunette. She was elegant and beautiful, if a little cold though he could fix that, and he wouldn’t mind seeing her again if he was to stay in Bath.

“Liz Elliot,” said the brunette.

Fred and Charles paced the waiting-room at the hospital, Anne and James looking on. Harville had volunteered to stay with Hetty and Mary while the others awaited a diagnosis. Between Charles, Frederick and Anne they had managed to both give an accurate description of the accident, and Anne found herself to have a good head for details in remembering odd bits of Louisa’s medical history, which she had picked up over her short friendship with the girl. Hetty, who would have been a lot more help, was incapacitated, but Charles’s longer friendship with Louisa provided more. The hospital had contacted her parents and they would be coming as soon as possible. In the mean time there was little to do, but wait for the diagnosis, and figure out what it would mean for the rest of the group.

After some time the doctor came out, and gestured Charles, Anne and Fred over, as they had been the most helpful, and stood in lieu of family.

“I think she’ll be all right,” said the doctor, carefully, not wanting to betray too much information to non-relations, but respecting that her friends were, for the time, her caregivers. “She’s still unconscious, but none of us think that will be permanent. She’s bruised her spine badly in a number of places, and has several broken ribs, as well as a cracked skull. She’s lucky, her brain is safe, and I anticipate a full recovery.”

“How long will it take?” asked Anne.

“Weeks, certainly. She should stay here for a while after she wakes up, so we can keep an eye on the head and spine injuries. She’s very lucky she didn’t go over those cliffs,” said the doctor severely. “A child died last year not far from there. I’d advise you all to stay away from even the path up there. I’ll have someone call the number you provided when she wakes up, but until then I think you should all try to relax, and not let the shock overwhelm you.”

“Thank you, doctor,” said Anne. The boys went to tell James of the news, and the doctor paused, before adding to Anne. “You seem sensible to me, Ms. Elliot. If I may offer some advice, I’d get those two home, they look a bit tense, not to mention your other friend there, who looks as if he could use a strong drink. Ms. Warwick should be fine, in time, and it won’t help any of you to be sitting around here. She’s in good hands, and I’m sure she can only improve, especially once her parents arrive.”

“Thank you, doctor,” said Anne. She strode up to the three young men, and spoke firmly. “You heard the doctor, it’s best if we go home now. We can sort out things later, everyone should get some sleep.”

“I think that’s sensible,” said Charles, a little shakily.

“I’ll drive,” said Anne, firmly, looking at him.

“Will you be all right with the wrong side of the road?” asked Frederick.

“I’ll have to be,” said Anne, catching sight of James’s chalk-white features. The doctor was right, he looked worst of all, even though he knew Louisa the least. She wondered if it had anything to do with a sense of deja vu and Phoebe. Anne herded the boys into the car, Frederick, who seemed the most lucid, taking the front seat beside her. Anne was a little surprised at how willingly all three obeyed her commands, but made no comment, instead shifting the car into gear, and silently thanking Susan for making her learn to drive manually.

When they arrived back at the inn, Anne arranged to have tea brought to all the party who were awake. Hetty and Mary had each been given a small amount of sedative to calm them. Harville grimaced, and caught Anne’s sleeve as she carried the tray towards the sitting room they’d usurped.

“Is James all right?” he asked, concerned.

“I think he might have a hospital-aversion,” whispered Anne.

“That’s probably right,” said Harville. “I’ll keep an eye on him when we return.”

“You could probably bunk in my room if I stay with Hetty,” said Anne.

“No, we have classes tomorrow, but thank you.” He accepted a cup of tea from Anne, who in turn offered them to Fred, James and Charles. Anne settled on a couch with James, and patted his arm.

“She’ll be fine. The doctor spoke to me about everything, and he thinks she’ll be up and about in a few weeks.”

“I’m sorry,” murmured James. “It’s just it made me think of Phoebe.”

“No one blames you for momentary weakness,” soothed Anne.

“I’m glad you’ve been strong, anyway,” said James, pulling Anne towards him and hugging her closely. “I needed someone to order me about at that moment, you were perfect.”

“I did what I had to do,” said Anne, simply. She wondered if she had been imagining things or if Fred had just set down his cup angrily and frowned, but when James released her his face was neutral, and he was examining a print of the battle of Waterloo closely. Harville appeared to be entirely oblivious, staring out the window at the street. Anne shrugged, it was better not to read into things, lest she become emotionally involved again.

“I think Hetty had better go back to campus,” said Anne, breaking into the silence, and standing up with the tray of empty teacups. She had addressed Charles, who was staring into space, but Fred started.

“I guess we’d better figure all that out,” said Fred, wearily.

“Yes,” murmured Anne. She stole out of the room briefly, to return the tray.

“I’d prefer to stay,” said Charles, simply. “I don’t mind missing a day or two of classes. Louisa has been my friend these three years, and I’d like to be there for her, at least for a little while.”

“A few familiar faces couldn’t hurt,” said Harville, breaking his gaze from the street.

“Do you have class on Wednesday?” Charles asked Fred, Wednesday being the first day of classes after the holiday.

“No,” said Fred.

“Then you’ll want to stay too. And then someone should probably be on campus for Hetty, and someone can stay here.”

“I suggest Anne,” said Fred, simply. “No one is so capable as Anne, as we’ve all witnessed...” he broke off as Anne opened the door, returning tray-less. “You will stay, won’t you?” he asked, rising and taking her hand. “For Louisa?” It was as if the shock of the day had restored some of their closeness. Anne flushed, and nodded.

“I’m perfectly willing to.”

“Then that’s settled. I can drive Hetty and Mary back to campus tomorrow. Mary will be better then?” he asked a little anxiously, looking at Anne and Charles.

“I think so,” said Anne, who had checked on her earlier. “She’s prone to exaggeration of most things, and I think that while shocked, her own surroundings will be most comfortable for her. I think the extra day to relax and resettle before classes would be good for her too. Hetty’s the one who is actually prone to fainting, from what I gather.”

“Yes,” agreed Charles. “She is. Excellent plan.” Silence settled again, and Anne gazed at the worried faces, hoping that the phone would ring soon, announcing Louisa’s return to consciousness. If not, it was going to be a very long day.

Anne was woken the next morning by a screech and a wail. She pushed the warm down comforter off her sadly, and stood up. She quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a warm wool turtleneck and tied her hair back before opening the door in order to search of the noise. It was later than she had thought, and it appeared that the other members of the group were awake. The wail came again, and this time she could hear words.

“Why not meeeee?” Mary. Anne sighed, and knocked firmly on Mary’s door.

“Ah, Anne,” said Charles, gratefully, when she had entered. “Mary’s upset,” he added unnecessarily, in an undertone.

“Why should Anne stay?” asked Mary, loudly and angrily. “Hetty would much rather have her, I’m sure, and I’ve had much more experience with hospitals. I don’t want to go back to campus.”

“We thought that Anne, being so levelheaded and competent, would be best to stay,” explained Fred, in a quiet, firm voice. Anne started, she hadn’t noticed his presence, which seemed so impossible.

“I’ll be a mess if I go back,” cried Mary. “I need Charles. Charles, if you stay I must stay. And I couldn’t possibly go back, not when Louisa, dear Louisa, is in the hospital. If I have occupation here, by her, I’m sure I’ll be as helpful as Anne. More so! I won’t go back, don’t make me.” She turned her attack on Charles.

“There’s only one bed for a girl after tonight,” explained Fred. “They can’t take more than three of us at Harville’s lodgings. And someone needs to take care of Hetty.”

“Let Anne do it, if she is so capable,” shot Mary. “Charles...”

“Fine, fine!” cried Charles. “Mary stay, Anne go and help Hetty.”

Fred looked as if he’d like to disagree, but there was nothing he could do now that Charles had capitulated. Anne sighed.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll pack, then.” She quietly left the room. She was certain that Louisa would much rather have herself, whom Louisa liked, than Mary, who irritated her, but there was nothing that could be done at this point. She’d go back to campus with Hetty, and go to class, and hope that Charles would let her know what was happening. She was a little disappointed to have to leave just when Fred was acknowledging her as a friend, and as James was warming to her so much, but she wouldn’t make trouble.

Packing took a short time, for she hadn’t brought overly much with her. She made the bed and tidied the room a little, checking that she hadn’t left anything. Anne didn’t know what time Fred intended to drive her and Hetty back to campus, so she made her way towards the sitting room, where Fred and Charles were sitting. Hetty was there, too, looking pale.

“How are you, sweetie?” asked Anne, settling beside her.

“Fine now, I think. I’m afraid I’m prone to fainting when shocked. You’d think it would be someone like you or Louisa, who haven’t as much flesh to you, but there you go. I’m glad to be going back. I hear you’re coming with me.”

“Yes,” said Anne.

“I’m sorry, Anne,” said Charles. “It just seemed easier. I expect I can keep her out of the way.”

“Any news?” asked James, entering.

“None from the hospital,” said Charles. “But we’ll ring up your rooms once you get back,” he promised Anne and Hetty.

“I thought Anne was staying,” said James.

“Mary’s staying instead,” said Fred, for the first time seeming a little pleased about the situation.

“Oh. When do you leave?” he asked the girls.

Anne looked to Fred, inquisitively. “I was thinking just after lunch,” he said. “I know you can drive,” he added, to Anne, “but I might as well go anyway, since I’ll need to fetch some books and things.” Anne nodded.

“Can I interest anyone in a last walk, then?” asked James, looking at Anne. “Around the very safe sidewalks of Lyme?”

“All right,” said Anne. Frederick quickly agreed, too, and Hetty decided she might as well see if the air would help her any.

“I’ll just grab my scarf and mittens again,” said Anne. Hetty and Fred similarly fetched layers, and they found themselves out on the street. Fred soon found himself escorting Hetty, who was feeling a trifle fragile, and soon was forced to lag behind Anne and James. He strained to hear their conversation, but soon gave up and gave his attention to Hetty, filling her in on all the details from the day before.

“Thanks for bearing with me, Anne,” said James. “I wasn’t myself yesterday.”

“Were any of us?” asked Anne.

“You were.”

“I did what was called for, but I assure you, I’m usually not that bossy.” James smiled.

“You did good.”

Anne smiled up at him in return.

“Maybe I’ll run up to Uppercross one of these days, you never know. I’m sure Fred would put me up.”

“Maybe,” said Anne, wondering if Fred would take kindly to a would-be-suitor, even one who was his old friend, and even though he and Louisa seemed to have some sort of attachment.

“Speak of the Devil,” said James, suddenly, turning around to see Fred approaching.

“You were talking about me?” asked Fred, surprised.

“Doesn’t everyone?” threw back James.

“It’s just that Hetty’s tired, and she was wondering if you guys would mind turning back.”

“Not at all.” The three turned, and Anne walked companionably between the two young men, to where Hetty was sitting.

“It’s sweet of you two to come back,” said Hetty to Anne, once they’d started walking again. “You didn’t have to.”

“I thought...” Anne broke off and shrugged. It was curious that Fred had wanted the whole group to return together, but, again, she wasn’t going to read anything into it. If you didn’t get your hopes up they couldn’t be crushed.

Lunch was a subdued affair. Charles had had word that Louisa’s parents had arrived, and he intended to take them to the hospital later. Fred seemed relieved not to meet them, eagerly suggesting that Hetty and Anne get their things so he could pack Hetty’s car for the drive. The three soon had the car packed, and Hetty decided that she’d rather lie back for the journey, and consequently took the back seat, assuring Anne that the directions she’d written out would get them back to Uppercross. Anne went around the left side of the car and got into the passenger’s seat, and put on her seat belt.

“Got everything?” asked Fred, having bid the others good-bye, and sliding into the driver’s seat.

“I think so,” said Anne. Fred put the car into gear, and pulled out from the spot, joining the traffic. For a while no one spoke. Anne leaned against the window, anxiety finally creeping up on her because she didn’t need to keep up a face of strength for the time.

“Right or left ahead?” asked Fred.

“Oh,” said Anne. “Right.”

“Thanks,” said Fred. He changed lanes, and then looked back at Anne, who was hunched by the window.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, gently reaching out with one hand and briefly caressing her shoulder.

“It... it’s just sunk in. About Louisa.”

“There’s nothing we can do now, she’ll be fine.”

“Why did we take that walk... I just imagine if we’d done something else, and she’d be fine.”

“Well,” said Fred, staring ahead at the traffic, and shifting gears again, “who’s to say that if we had done something different that Charles wouldn’t have gotten hit by a bus, or Mary hit by a freak falling piano.” Anne smiled, a little. “You just never know. And you have nothing to blame yourself for, nothing. I was the one who should have restrained her. If I hadn’t given in to her antics earlier on the hike, she mightn’t have been off the path at that instant. I knew that anything closer to the edge was dangerous, but I obviously didn’t do enough.” He sounded bitter, and it was Anne’s turn to impulsively touch his shoulder.

“It can’t be entirely your fault, Fred, either.”

“Poor Louisa!” he cried. “I don’t know that I’ve ever met anyone quite so full of the joy of living, even with her detached, mocking way. She’s always so eager, so determined to enjoy herself whatever the cost.”

“And this time the cost was high. At least, as you said, she’s going to be fine now.”

“In time,” said Fred, quietly. They didn’t speak again, except for an occasional direction. That was fine with Anne, she was still shaken up both about Louisa’s accident and about Fred’s curious behavior over the last few days.

Chapter Fourteen:

Posted on Tuesday, 19 July 2005

Anne settled back into her university life fairly quickly, especially once Mary, Charles and Fred returned to campus. Within a few days Louisa was known to have woken up, and initial scans showed that her head was healing well. Her parents were optimistic about her removal to their home for a spell, and her subsequent return to school, once the doctors thought her out of danger of re-injuring herself. Relieved, Anne settled into the sequence of lectures and homework and nights with friends. She saw very little of Fred after he dropped her at her dorm, but she wasn’t surprised. Probably he was busy dashing down to see Louisa on the weekends, for Charles had mentioned the fact that Fred had been off campus the last two weekends to Mary, in her efforts to make up numbers for this or that event. Hayter had soothed Hetty, and she was back to her cheerful self once more. All in all, save for Fred’s distance and Louisa’s glaring absence, life continued much as it had in the pre-Lyme world.

The whole experience seemed rather surreal, and Anne felt herself baffled a bit by it, even the next weekend, when she called Susan for their regular chat.

“Anne! I missed you. Did you have a wildly exciting weekend last week when you were off on vacation instead of distracting me from all these papers?”

“Exciting yes, but not exactly in a good way,” said Anne, settling onto her bed, and twirling the phone cord around her fingers.

“What happened?”

“Louisa almost fell off a cliff and is still in the hospital.”

“What?”

“We were all out on these cliffs, and they’re a little dangerous if you go near the edge, and she was fooling around and there was an earth-slide, and she got knocked out and knocked up, but was saved by impacting with a tree.”

“Ouch! Is she okay?”

“Sort of. Cracked skull, bruised spine, broken ribs. She was out of it for about three days.”

“Are you serious? Were you totally freaked out by it?”

“It was so weird, really. I really like Louisa, she’s fun, and clever, and so sarcastic at times. A bit like East-Coast attitude, really,” said Anne.

“Did you see it happen?” asked Susan. “Are you totally traumatized and will never go on another hike again?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll hike again, just not by any cliffs any time soon. I did see some of it. Louisa and Fred and Hetty and Harville were all walking together, and Mary and Charles, and then James and I were behind, talking, and then he looked up and saw it and exclaimed, and I saw and she jut went sliding off towards the edge... it was one of the most frightening moments of my life. It made me really appreciate how fragile things are, how fragile we are.”

“Yes, yes,” said Susan impatiently, “but who’s James?”

“I told you that we were going to go see a friend of Fred’s?” asked Anne, uncertainly.

“A friend of a friend,” said Susan, coolly, “anyway.”

“Well, that friend was Harville.”

“I thought Harville was the guy dating Hetty.”

“That’s Hayter.”

“What’s with all the H-men being called by their last names?” Susan wondered, rhetorically.

“Harville was Fred’s roommate at Brown.”

“Fred goes to Brown now? Step up for Lifeguard Boy,” muttered Susan. Anne ignored her. It was awkward enough to have to talk about Fred.

“Well, James went to school with Fred. And he’s Harville’s roommate on their program.”

“Talk about a small world,” said Susan under her breath. It was like everyone Fred knew was showing up in Britain. “Tell me more about James. Is he cute? Is there anything up?”

“Oh, he was sweet, but there wasn’t anything really,” said Anne. “Nothing happened. He was a darling, and did say something about keeping in touch and coming to visit, but –”

“But what? That’s great!”

“But he’s still mooning about his only girlfriend who died two years ago, and to whom he was intending to propose.”

“That would make things kind of awkward.”

“No kidding.”

“But you’ve been mooning about the guy you dumped four years ago, who now has the hots for your friend. Maybe it’d be perfect. What’s he like?”

“I said, sweet. Not unattractive, either. He’s a double geology and English major at a school in Minnesota.”

“Minnesota? Okay... Well, let me know what happens, and how your friend is doing.”

“All right,” said Anne, feeling more confused than ever. Susan always hurled herself impetuously into Anne’s relationships, seeing things where they weren’t, and missing the value of others. Somehow Susan seemed to make everything so black and white, when life was really much more hazy and gray.

Louisa soon grew bored of her room in the hospital, where they had decided to keep her for a few more tests, and greeted any company with energy. She had rather hoped that Fred might come down and visit her, but after the first few days he returned to school and ceased to appear in Lyme. Louisa made do with her family, and with Fred’s friends, who visited fairly often, especially James, the funny one with the dead girlfriend who had seemed to have had a thing for Anne.

“Heard anything from anyone lately?” asked Louisa, throwing down her magazine, when James’s smiling head appeared around the door.

“You mean Fred, don’t you?” asked James. He knew that Louisa liked Fred, and didn’t blame her. Lots of the girls in school had liked Fred, though he’d never really taken any of them seriously. If it hadn’t been for a lightning glimpse of a photograph of Fred and some girl looking all cuddly donkey’s years ago, he might have wondered about Fred’s orientation.

“Yes,” admitted Louisa. “But anyone will do. I’m so bored.”

“Fred’s brother, Ed, the one who just got married, apparently flew in on business, and Fred’s been spending a lot of time with him.”

“Oh,” said Louisa. “How about Hetty, or Anne?”

“No.”

“Really? I thought you and Anne might have kept in touch?”

“No,” said James. “I mean, maybe. I haven’t written her or called or anything.”

“You know, Anne will never be the one to initiate something. She’s really reserved.”

“I guess,” said James. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but since he’d been spending his afternoons with Louisa, he’d begun to admire her even more than he had admired Anne. She didn’t notice him in that way at all, but she was clever, and beautiful and so much better than him. Her sarcastic humor and elegance intrigued him, she was so different from Phoebe, but just as interesting. He wondered idly if anything could ever happen between them, or if she and Fred would make a go of it. Anne Elliot had been sweet and gentle, and a fabulous conversationalist, as well as unobtrusively beautiful, but he thought maybe they’d remain friends. She hadn’t seemed especially keen on him romantically, and the more he mulled over their brief budding relationship, the more he was nagged by a funny suspicion as regarded Frederick. Surely? Surely not.

“Did Fred have a lot of girlfriends in school?” asked Louisa, flipping through her magazine again.

“What?”

“Was Fred really popular with the girls? He’s very masculine and attractive,” she explained.

“Oh. Girls liked him a lot then, too,” said James.

“But?”

“He didn’t have a girlfriend I ever met. But there was this picture he had taped inside his locker of him and some girl.”

“Who was she?”

“I don’t know. No one from our school, didn’t recognize her in the half-second glimpse I got before Fred angrily shut the door. I wondered if maybe things weren’t going well or something between them.”

“Oh.”

“He did take Alice Waters to prom junior year, and Katie Sommer senior year, though.”

“You have a good memory.”

“Thanks.”

“If I bore you, why do you come? I’m sure you’ve got homework.”

“You’re more interesting than homework.”

“Thank you,” said Louisa, grinning with her even white teeth. “Does it annoy you that I always talk about Fred?”

“You can talk about whatever you please.”

“You’re sweet. Read any good poetry lately?” She had quizzed him on his interests weeks ago, and this was one of the few places in which they had common interest. For all her superior aloofness and fondness of numbers and economics, Louisa did enjoy poetry, especially when sweet boys with American accents read it to her.

“I came across an old favorite this morning,” said James, “But I’m not sure you’ll want to hear it.”

“Why?”

“It’s about a cat drowning.”

“Who’d write about that?”

“Thomas Gray. It’s called ‘Ode on the Death of a Favorite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes’.”

Louisa snorted, and then grimaced, laughter not being kind to broken ribs. “Will you read it to me tomorrow?”

“I know it by heart.”

“I should have guessed. Would you recite it for me, then? Come, sit down on the bed, I won’t bite.” she patted a place beside her, and he took it.

“I’m not making you uncomfortable so that your back will never heal or anything, am I?”

“No. Come on.”

“Very well. 'Twas on a lofty vase’s side, Where China’s gayest art had dyed the azure flowers that blow... “ Louisa watched him, intent, it was a slightly humorous poem, also sad, and oddly pertinent.

“Curiosity killed the cat, then,” said Louisa, when she was done. “I feel the lesson well: Don’t Play On Ledges.”

“Don’t,” said James, simply. “We’d miss you.”

“You know,” said Louisa, looking at James critically. “I think I’ll miss you a lot when I go home.” She was a little surprised at how much she meant it. Gorgeous Fred or not ( Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes... ), it was James who had made her life enjoyable this last week. James Benwick and his poetry about dead cats. No one could have anticipated it, least of all her. She smiled up at him with friendly eyes. “Know any more poems?” she asked, with a smile.

“Now you’re in for it,” said James, laughing. “Don’t I!”

This chapter is dedicated to an amazing girl and a wonderful friend who died last week.

Chapter Fifteen:

Posted on Tuesday, 26 July 2005

When the Christmas break had come Anne was loathe to say farewell to her friends at Uppercross and to travel to Bath. However, she braved things as best she could, and said farewell to Hetty and Hayter, and to Charles and Mary (Mary was to spend the holiday with his family), and even to Louisa, who had been removed to her own home, not a terribly long journey from the University town, as well as many of her fellow exchange students, many of whom would be returning to their home universities for the spring semester. Then, having packed up her things, as well as a number of books to consult in preparation for the January exam period, she found her way by train to Bath, and the new Elliot home in Camden-place.

Anne hadn’t expected anyone to meet her at the station, but it was a trifle depressing, all the same, as she hadn’t seen her family since September. However, she ably brought her luggage over to the taxi queue and directed the driver to her new address. She was deposited outside an elegant building, older than her home back in Kellynch but smaller, being a townhouse in a terrace. She wondered idly what the rent was, and decided it would be better not to know, instead ringing the bell firmly. Nell Clay opened the door after a few minutes, and politely smiled at Anne.

“Anne, welcome. Come in.” Anne had expected Nell to behave politely, and she did, being a guest, while Anne was technically family.

“Who was it, Nell?” came Liz’s voice from upstairs. “Is it Elliot?”

“It’s your sister, Liz,” called back Nell.

“Oh,” said Liz. “Tell her to come up, won’t you?”

“I heard,” said Anne, as Nell opened her mouth to speak again. “Should I leave my case and bags?”

“I’ll help you bring them up,” said Nell, helpfully. She took Anne’s travel bag and small duffle, leaving Anne to carry the heavier case. Anne didn’t mind, as she hadn’t really expected any help at all.

“Liz has put you on the third floor,” said Nell. “But the drawing-room is upstairs, that’s where your sister and father are now. Just leave your things by the stair on the landing, and you can deal with them after you say hi.” Anne set down her things, and took a deep breath, quickly tidying her hair in one of the hall mirrors. Walter Elliot hated his daughters to look untidy. Anne hoped that her slightly rumpled, though smart, traveling clothes would pass muster. Well, there was nothing for it, she entered the drawing room, and looked upon her only living family members.

“Hi,” said Anne, a little uneasily, as her father and sister in turn studied her.

“You look flushed,” said Walter, at last.

“I’ve just carried my things up the stairs and from the cab,” said Anne.

“Of course,” said Walter. “Have you seen your room?”

“No. I thought I’d see you first.”

“Good girl. Well, apart from the flush you look healthy. Looking after yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Well, as you can see, Bath suits me and your sister very well. I can’t understand why such a move didn’t suggest itself earlier.”

“How’s business?” asked Anne, taking a seat gingerly upon one of the ornate chairs that were artfully arranged about the room.

“I think it’s going very well, don’t you, dear?”

“Lady Dalrymple is charming,” said Liz, “and she likes what Father says a lot. And with Elliot’s help I’m sure she’ll accept our bid in the final round.”

“Your father is doing such an admirable job of courting the account,” volunteered Nell. Walter gave her a glowing smile.

“I’m pleased to hear it,” said Anne quietly.

“Bath is wonderful,” said Liz. “I can’t believe you haven’t been down to see us before. A fourth would have been a great benefit at the table. I will have to show you about the town, introduce you to the right people.”

“I have been in class,” said Anne, “It’s not like I stayed away on purpose.”

“Naturally,” said Liz, dismissively.

“Your sister has met a charming young celebrity,” said Walter, conversationally. “He comes to visit almost every day. And he has a degree in advertising. His ideas are intriguing; I’m working on incorporating some of them into our bid. Have you heard of Elliot Williams?”

“Slightly. We saw him in Lyme.”

“I’m sure you were mistaken,” said Liz. “As far as I can tell no one goes to Lyme other than fossil collectors and history nerds.”

Anne disdained to reply to the latter part of her sister’s comment, instead saying, “Mary recognized him for who he was, and he paused to greet... us... at one point, so I got a good look at his face. It was Elliot Williams, I assure you.”

“Well, I don’t know, it may have been. I suppose everyone has to stop and fill their tanks somewhere.” She flounced a little in her seat, and turned to stare across the room. Anne sat awkwardly, wishing that she could have taken Charles or Hetty up on their offers to spend the holidays at their homes. The doorbell rang again, and Liz sat up straight, and smiled.

“That’ll be Elliot,” said Nell.

“I’ll go let him in,” said Liz, fluttering out of the room, closely followed by Nell. Walter beamed.

“Excellent, you’ll get to meet our young mastermind.”

A moment later Anne heard the three ascending the stair, and Elliot Williams’s voice.

“Going somewhere?” he asked the girls, spying the luggage.

“Oh, no, Anne’s come to stay for the holiday. My sister,” Liz clarified.

“Come in, Elliot, come in!” boomed Walter. The three young people came in, and Anne and her father rose to acknowledge them.

“This is my younger daughter, Anne,” said Walter, by way of introduction, to the handsome young man. Today he was wearing a sports jacket and dark brown turtleneck, and Anne was vaguely amused by the expression in Liz’s eyes, as she held his arm. “Well, sit down, sit down.”

“Of course, Walter,” said Elliot. “Anne, I believe we met briefly. In Lyme?”

“Yes,” said Anne, smiling. Liz rolled her eyes and pretended to look as if she wasn’t angry at being wrong. Elliot took the seat between Anne and Liz, and turned to Anne, again. He couldn’t believe his luck in meeting the pretty girl from Lyme again, and the way in which she wasn’t hanging over him was refreshing. Liz had all too soon begun to cling to her semi-famous acquaintance, and it was tiring. If he hadn’t weaseled his way into the Dalrymple bid, he should have dropped her. As it was, the Dalrymple bid seemed to be the next big chance to fall into his lap, and he intended to profit from it. But here, he could combine business and pleasure once more, with the arrival of the younger Elliot girl.

“I read that there was a dreadful accident in Lyme after I left. Did you know the girl?”

“She was a member of my party, but she’s at home now, and intends to return to university after the holiday.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, with gentle concern in his voice. “That must have been terrible for you.”

“It wasn’t fun,” said Anne, with a small smile.

“Who was this?” asked Liz, butting into the conversation unceremoniously.

“Louisa Warwick.”

“Oh, one of those Uppercross girls.”

The phone rang, and Liz excused herself to answer it, and proceeded to talk at some length to the friend on the line. Elliot turned to Anne, and smiled.

“What did you think of Lyme?” he asked.

“I liked it.”

“I’m glad to hear that you are more resilient than to hold grudges against places because of unpleasantness that occurred there.”

“The accident was awful, but I had a nice little time beforehand.”

“Did you see Monmouth Beach?”

“Not really.”

“It’s very interesting.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a fossil enthusiast,” said Anne, surprised.

“Well, I’m not, strictly, but giant fossils are pretty neat. I don’t think any boy really outgrows his love for dinosaurs.” He flashed Anne a genuine smile, and Anne found herself laughing.

“Next you’re going to be telling me that you can’t look at the stars without wanting to be an astronaut,” she teased, surprised at herself.

“Well, it depends on the company,” he said, very solemnly. He lowered his voice “The only time I commented about the stars to your sister, she told me that I shouldn’t bother with anything so old and distant.”

“Sounds a bit like Liz,” said Anne. She was mildly curious if there was anything between Elliot and Liz, but unsure, from his comments. Certainly there was something on Liz’s side, but Elliot was an enigma.

“What did you see in Lyme, then,” asked Elliot, planting his elbows on the arm of his chair and resting his chin adorably on his upturned palms.

“Some geology students’ lodgings, a pub, an inn, the Cobb, several other scenic walks, a hospital and several restaurants,” counted off Anne.

“Well, I didn’t see the hospital, and I doubt that you’d like to dwell on it, but what about the others. Geology students? How quaint.”

“They were friends of a friends of mine,” said Anne, blushing very slightly, remembering James and Fred’s flattering behaviors.

“A ha,” said Elliot, teasing. “Male geology students?”

“The two who were friends were.”

“Very attractive?”

“Not especially.”

“All right. What else? Which pub?”

Anne gave the name, and Elliot smiled. “I passed it. Good brews?”

“I had something so girly I’m not going to tell you what it was. So, I don’t know.”

“You’ve come to the UK and you’re not trying the local drinks?”

“I had some Ribena at school, does that count?”

“As long as it was that fantastic Ribena-and-vodka drink that they make at the pubs.”

Anne laughed. “I suppose when you go to America you try all the local drinks?”

“Absolutely. Wines in some places, beers in other. Actually, there’s a pleasant little distillery on Cape Breton Island that has a nice single-malt whiskey.”

“I’ve never thought about travel like that.”

“Surely you’re old enough to drink at home?”

“I was twenty-one in August.”

“Then I suggest you try traveling and sampling the drinks. It’s an interesting view. I don’t mean get drunk off your rear, or anything, but tasting. If you’re drunk you won’t be able to remember all the people you’ll meet.”

“All right,” said Anne, with a smile. Elliot was amusing, she’d have thought him a lot more shallow than he seemed to be from this conversation. Dinosaurs, and teasing and touring by drinks. Maybe celebrities (even very minor ones) were actually normal people?

“Elliot, my father wants to go look at color schemes for the new logo,” said Liz, positioning herself between them.

“Business calls,” said Elliot, apologetically. “I’ll see you around.” He saluted, and followed Liz out of the room, looking engrossed in whatever she was saying. Anne realized that her father and Nell had left the room already, and Anne went out onto the landing, to retrieve her stuff. She was surprised to see Elliot lounging against the wall.

“I thought you were just talking to Liz.”

“She had to get her handbag, she’s coming with us, apparently.”

“Oh.” Anne turned to her bags, and hoisted them on her back, preparing to ascend the stairs.

“Let me help,” interceded Elliot.

“What about my father?” asked Anne.

“He and Nell are downstairs,” said Elliot in a dubious voice, his eyes darting towards the stairs. Anne followed his glance, and saw her father and Nell conferring to each other in an intense way that she didn’t much like. Frowning a little, Anne returned to her luggage.

“I’ll take the case,” said Elliot. “Third floor?”

“Apparently. I haven’t been here long enough to see my room yet.”

“I’ll let you get settled in then.” Elliot ascended the stair, and turned into the first open door, which proved to be a small bedroom, turned out and ready for an occupant. “I’m guessing this is it. Well, I’ll be seeing you. You’ll like Bath.” He smiled, and disappeared down the stairs. Anne put down her bags and sank back onto the bed. Her homecoming had been decisively odd. Her father might very well have a thing for her sister’s indiscriminate friend, her sister definitely had a thing for the personable young celebrity who had wormed his way into the family, and said personable celebrity had spent his entire time in the house flirting with her in a friendly fashion. She’d almost rather be back in Lyme, dealing with Fred and Louisa, Mary’s whining and James’s curious behavior.

Chapter Sixteen:

Posted on Tuesday, 2 August 2005

The more time Anne spent with people who were not members of her family, the more she enjoyed her family’s company. Walter might be a pompous fool, and Elizabeth a scheming social climber, but they did make for entertaining conversation when theirs wasn’t the only conversation. Also, the busier Walter was kept with his bid the less time he spent making a fool of himself, which made for peaceful living at Camden Place. Furthermore to aid harmony, Nell and Liz had kept themselves increasingly occupied with social events as Liz sought to introduce Anne to their social circle in Bath and in London, most of whom Anne had no particular liking for, despite the fact that most of the Bath friends were a trifle lower-key for living in a smaller city.

Elliot Williams continued to half-live with the Elliots, calling at all hours and often dining with them. Of all of Liz’s friends Anne acknowledged that she liked Elliot the best, since he had a wholesome, boyish side that many of the others lacked. While sophisticated and a success, he was only too willing to stop and chat with Anne, for whom the others had little time. He talked quite openly and playfully to Anne about his eventual dream to settle down in an Edwardian terrace house with a little wife and a dog and children, and told her stories about his childhood as a singularly muddy and disobedient child that had Anne chuckling all the while. She was also delighted by the fact that he seemed to be able to form his own opinions, something which Nell or Liz wouldn’t be caught dead doing. They turned whichever way the wind blew and happily remained in a complacent majority, neither questioning nor understanding their own positions or those of others. Anne enjoyed a number of friendly arguments with Elliot, finding his positions and reasoning interesting, especially when he differed from public opinion, which was refreshingly honest amongst Liz’s circle.

The people whom Anne met in Bath were mostly a good bit older than herself, and a good number were older than Elizabeth. None were particularly interesting, save for Elliot and his friend Marc Wallis, who was relatively stable and grounded in comparison to others Anne was introduced to. Anne’s primary interest in Marc was that he knew Elliot better than any of the others, knew about his past, and was able to shed some small amount of light on his enigmatic personality, and as Elliot was one of the best friends she had in Bath this was interesting information. Marc would occasionally stop by the house in Camden Place with Elliot, or else they’d run into them about the town, occasionally with his pretty fiancée in tow. Anne thought she might have liked Kristi a little better than some of the other girls she met, but couldn’t be certain, as the young woman was often working (she was working in a remarkably senior position for someone so young, in a realtor’s office), or else lying up with stress-induced health problems. Elliot would usually ask Marc to come along about town, however, using him to distract Elizabeth should she become too clingy or peevish.

Anne enjoyed her conversations with Marc, usually held across a table at a night club, or in the sunny sitting room at Camden Place. She had an academic interest in Elliot and was only too pleased to try to dissect him. Elizabeth was accustomed to pumping Marc for details about how Eileen Parks, Elliot’s famous ex-girlfriend, had acted, dressed, behaved, but Anne preferred to talk about Elliot as a person and not as the former attachment to a genuine celebrity. For one thing, Marc had told her that the relationship had not ended well, and Elliot was only too ready to move on, hopefully with a lower-maintenance girl. Anne found the entire relationship interesting, and perhaps a little tragic on both parts, for neither was ideally suited for the other. She was really a little curious how such a relationship had blossomed at all.

“She sought him out, in fact,” Marc had commented one afternoon when Anne found a suitable opportunity to ask. “That was the main charm. Eileen, a beautiful and talented young woman came looking for him, and I dare say he was delighted by the attention. She’d seen him on television, and decided that she liked the way he looked, so when they met by chance she decided she’d like to get to know him better: and thus began the relationship. He knew of her, of course, but probably shouldn’t have paid her much mind if she hadn’t been the one doing the courting. But on account of her perseverance he did get to know her, and it worked out well. Love triumphs over situations and whatnot. Should have made for a lovely story if it had lasted.”

“But it didn’t.”

“Yes. You’ve probably noticed that Elliot likes the be the leader in situations,” Marc commented, one Saturday afternoon in Camden Place. ”I think his problem with Eileen was that she was the one with the trousers – on account of her celebrity, her attractiveness, her wealth. They got along well for a time, but I think eventually Elliot got bored of being the one doing the admiring. My theory is that he needs someone normal, not overwhelmingly gorgeous, deep enough to appreciate the fact that he’s actually a clever guy and not just that he was on TV, had a famous girlfriend, and drives a fancy car.”

“I should think everyone would be looking for someone like that,” said Anne, shrewdly. “I can’t help but think that equality, or at least relative equality, is important in pairings. I can’t think that a woman as gorgeous and famous as Eileen Parks would be long content with a man who, although being quite attractive in his own right, essentially sponges. Without equal interests in the world – and by equal I refer to quantities of time and engagement – they cannot help but drift apart.”

“Would you then say that unless Elliot continues with this advertising lark he is then doomed to members of the independently wealthy who are as little engaged as he?”

“I think that a profession is no bad thing.”

“I shall have to tell him you said so.”

“Me! I should think that he could figure it out on his own. And if he hasn’t a very wealthy girlfriend any longer he must work in any case, for his own nourishment.”

Marc laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it. Elliot has always been very talented in capitalizing as much as possible from any situation. And he is drawing a decent salary from your father currently. Didn’t you know?”

“I assumed that he wouldn’t be working as a volunteer,” said Anne, carefully. “But I can’t entirely picture what he is doing here at all. Isn’t London the place for an up-and-coming member of the advertising world? Bath seems a bit out of the way.”

“He likes it here, if you can understand it. Your father has appeared with a golden opportunity, and he is able to combine an enjoyable and challenging work assignment at the same time as enjoying the delights of a smaller city. As long as he has occupation, or at least enough to live on, he will enjoy himself wherever he pleases. And right now he is very pleased with Bath and the people he finds here.”

“Is it Elizabeth, then?”

“Elizabeth?” He laughed. “I shouldn’t think so. Maybe at first. He does enjoy her social world, as it is really his social world. She’s a handsome girl, your sister, but she’d expect to be treated like Eileen, and that wouldn’t do him the least good. No, I think I know what he’s about, and it’s not Liz Elliot.” Anne thought she heard Marc place a tiny inflection on the name ‘Liz’, but dismissed it as a figment of her imagination.

Within those first days of Anne’s stay in Bath she came across another acquaintance who pleased her greatly and made up for any of the slights she suffered in her own home. Shortly after moving into Camden Place she received a letter which gave her great joy, a letter written by one Clara Smith, her mother’s goddaughter. It was messy and friendly.

Dear Anne,

We’ve never properly met, but my father has found out that you will be arriving in Bath any day now and I am eager to make your acquaintance. My name is Clara Smith, perhaps you have heard of me, from your mother, long ago? She was my godmother, just as my mother was yours. It is very strange to be writing to someone I’ve never talked to, but I have been looking through my mother’s old things, and looking at the pictures of her, and there are many of her and your mother, each holding us. You’re a young toddler and I’m a tiny baby so I don’t remember ever being with you, but knowing that I have makes everything more friendly and familiar.

In short, I’d like to meet you. Father and I still live in Bath, and I’ve included the address and phone numbers, in case you’d like to call. Mother always said lovely things about you (I’m sorry to say that she didn’t much like your sister, and I’m afraid to say that your sister wanted nothing to do with someone as young as me – though nineteen isn’t so very young! – so I’m inclined to believe my mother’s opinions.) I know I’m muddling, but anyway, if you’d like to meet some time, I should like it greatly. I’d love to meet someone my mother loved as much as she loved you.

All the best!
Clara

Anne had called Clara immediately after reading the letter, and they’d met at a restaurant to have lunch together. Clara was a small, slight girl with rosy cheeks and smiling eyes, and as sweet and good-natured as could be. Anne enjoyed spending time with this one acquaintance of her very own, whom none of her family seemed to care for. Though she was two years older than Clara, Anne soon found Clara’s company to be as fun as Elliot’s. They talked to each other for hours on end, and Clara took her about the city, pointing out quaint and historic places which Liz had overlooked in her brief tour of the city. Most of all, Anne enjoyed visiting Clara’s home, a small house that was warm with kindness. Clara’s father was only too pleased to see Anne, and to talk about her godmother and her mother to her. Clara showed Anne the photo albums full of old pictures, which Anne sincerely enjoyed looking that. There she was, with her mother, and her mother had loved her so much. When Anne was with the Smiths she felt as though her mother and her godmother were still alive, as if they were with her, giving encouragement and smiles.

Before long Clara had become a combination of good friend and younger sister to Anne, a wholesome, friendly sister who, in truth, cared more about her than her real one did. It was a sobering thought, but as much as Anne knew she was needed by her family, as much as she knew that they didn’t know or appreciate that fact, she discovered that family is really what you make of it, and that foreign people can mean as much to you as those you grow up with. With friends like Clara and Elliot, Anne thought that her break would become quite bearable indeed, if not a downright pleasure.

Chapter Seventeen:

Posted on Tuesday, 9 August 2005

With friendship and an unusually harmonious family situation, Anne found herself looking forward to Christmas. The holiday, one which Anne always enjoyed, was fast approaching. However, this year marked the first time that she would be celebrating the holiday outside of the Kellynch house, which meant that she had even more work than she usually did. Soon she was quite busy rushing about town, procuring a small tree, finding ornaments and writing cards to everyone Walter and Elizabeth thought deserved “Warm Holiday Greetings, From the Elliots”. Anne wrote her own private cards, as well, to friends from home and to several of those from Uppercross. She was a little relieved when she realized that she didn’t know where Fred was spending the holiday, and was spared the need to write him a card. She did write cheerful ones to James and Harville, though, who had both returned to the States. Finally, when the stack of cards was completed and posted, she settled down into planning the family Christmas dinner, to which Walter had invited Elliot, Marc and Kristi.

She was pleasantly distracted from this chore by the arrival of the afternoon post, which included a card from Mary, who was spending her holiday with Charles at his home. Reading through the card, Anne was struck with a great longing to return to Uppercross and her friends there. Each little bit of gossip Mary imparted was just like her, news and speculation about people she thought Anne would care to hear about. From her relative seclusion in Bath, Anne was only too delighted to have further news on Louisa, and hear about Hayter’s present for Hetty. Mary seemed to have become reconciled to Hayter now, which was a relief. Anne couldn’t help looking for further news in the card, of Fred, or James, but there was little forthcoming. All in all, it was a breezy, friendly, self-occupied letter. Much like Mary.

Dear Anne,

Happy Holidays! I look forward to seeing you after the holiday. Have you been studying the whole time? I haven’t, and I can’t help but feel that my exams will show it. Well, plenty of time after Christmas. You did make me study so much before the holiday, I deserve a break.

Aren’t Christmas cards quaint? I adore them. Charles’s mother came into the room a little while ago and told me I could write as many as I liked and she’d make sure they got posted. Naturally I couldn’t think of anyone to write except for you, so I am. I haven’t heard from you in such a long time. If I wasn’t so busy enjoying Charles and Hetty and their family I should be quite desolate. How are your father and sister? I must say, I’m glad to be here for Christmas and not home, because even though this country is such a cold, dreary place at times, I’m enjoying it being actually cold for Christmas. There is even supposed to be snow... imagine, a white Christmas! But then you usually have them, don’t you?

Well, news, news. Of course I’ve been keeping in touch with most everyone, like to know what’s up and all. Hayter came down to spend some time before the holiday with Hetty and he gave her his Christmas present already, and I must say that it is gorgeous! The daintiest silver bracelet with little amethysts in it. It’s adorable, and Hetty’s so pleased with Hayter’s taste. Charles has come in, and says hello. And I’ve filled up this whole card, but Charles said he’d get me a piece of paper to continue on, since you haven’t heard all the news.
(on the sheet of paper) There! Much better. Gemma stopped by last week on her way to her cousins’ house. She told me that her french tutor came back to Uppercross with his hair dyed vibrant orange. I don’t know what to make of it, I thought he was a very normal man. She says that Uppercross is really quite boring without all the students. And we went to see a play in London with Dillon and Heather, that was entertaining, though the play was really quite dull. I think it is the sort of thing you or Louisa might appreciate, though. I shall have to remember what it was called so you can see it.

Speaking of Louisa, you’ll never guess. She’s apparently quite well now, and has gone flitting off to the States! I’m not sure where, but Hetty had a card from her yesterday. It’s really quite bizarre. Apparently the university has decided that since Louisa missed so many classes that she’d better not come back until after exams are done. And she must have decided to make a holiday of it! So Hetty is quite without a roommate until the new term. Which is frighteningly soon, isn’t it? I’ll let you know more about Louisa when I hear it.

I haven’t heard anything interesting from the rest of our friends. I do know that Harville and James returned home, though. And apparently their little rock-project was a success. I haven’t seen any of our fellow study-abroaders, though. But then, some of them have gone home, and others are off enjoying themselves all over the continent.

Apparently Mrs. Musgrove has just made a spice cake and wants me to test a piece. I shall get really fat over these holidays, I know I shall. And Charles’s cat is making me sneeze, I think I must be allergic. And can I say that I loathe mince? I can’t imagine who invented it. But Mrs. M has been making mince pieces for the last week, and I can’t abide the smell of them any more. Now I know why Charles’s parents are such dumplings, but Mrs. M is a wonderful cook. Now my hand is cramped. Merry Christmas, and I’ll see you after the holiday! Call me if you have any exciting news!!! xoxo Mary.

“Interesting letter?” asked Elliot, leaning over Anne’s shoulders.

“Where did you come from?” she asked, surprised.

“Nell let me in. Your father wants to know if you can attend one of his demonstrations for Mrs. Dalrymple tomorrow afternoon. His secretary has a cold.”

“He sent you all the way across town to ask me to stand in for his secretary?”

“He’s busy wining and dining the old dame tonight, and didn’t think he’d be back to the house. You know he has a wardrobe at his temporary office? It’s fascinating. But I cam because I thought you could do with a bit of company since everyone has been out all day.”

“That’s nice of you. But I did just have a letter from my roommate, and Clara is supposed to stop by after dinner so we can catch a movie.”

“You’ll be off gallivanting at the films and I’ll be sweating over final preparations for this presentation. I can’t see why the old biddy doesn’t make up her mind that your father is the person she wants. You know, I suppose she likes the attention, and your father is certainly in no hurry to leave Bath.”

“What am I to do, if I go to the presentation?”

“Very little. Dress smartly, keep his papers tidy, keep a glass of water full.”

“He pays someone to do all that?”

“She does quite a bit, really. It’s really just her and your father and me on this bid.”

“Are you presenting too?”

“Naturally. I’ll need you to keep my papers in order, too.”

“I suppose I can manage.”

“Excellent. Have you anything businesslike to wear?”

“Yes.”

“Then I imagine you’re all set. Now, tell me what you were chuckling about.”

All in all, Anne was rather disappointed in meeting Mrs. Dalrymple of Dalrymple Ltd. She’d hoped to see an imperious businesswoman who could see through all of her father’s weaknesses. What she saw was a fussy woman well-past middle-age who seemed happy enough to doze through half the presentation and offer a hundred questions which would have been answered if she’d really been paying attention. It was astonishing that such a woman should have made it as far as she had, and Anne wondered if her husband, the late Mr. Dalrymple, had anything to do with it. Her aide, a suave young man by the name of Carteret seemed to be the businessman of the two, though something of a toadying one. Anne, gentle-hearted Anne, took immediate dislike to the young man for his patronizing attitude towards her. She was somewhat grateful to see him look a trifle abashed when she was introduced as being the youngest Elliot. Mrs. Dalrymple showed some interest as well, and asked Anne to come up.

“You don’t look much like your sister,” she said, studying Anne. “But you’re not unattractive either. I can see something of Walter in you, I think, but I suppose you take after your mother?”

“Yes, Mrs. Dalrymple.”

“Polite little thing. You’ll have to come along to one of my functions, when I next hold one. Now, where is Mr. Williams? Such a charming young man. Carteret would like a word with you.” The two young men left the room, as Anne tidied up the presentation materials. Walter and Mrs. Dalrymple soon fell into conversation. Finally Elliot returned, and the Elliot party left the room.

“I thought that went rather well,” said Walter, cheerfully. “She told me she’d talk over some things with her board-members and get back to me tomorrow. Goodness, it’s getting late! I’d better get back to the office and give the old partner a call. I’m to meet Elizabeth and Nell for drinks tonight, are you coming along, Elliot?”

“Thank you, but no. I have to run to London briefly.”

“Ah, very well. See to it that Anne gets home, then.” He hailed a taxi with practiced speed, and was soon off. Elliot made to hail another, but Anne stopped his sleeve.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to walk. You can take a cab if you’d like, but I’d like a little air.”

“The room was a bit stuffy, wasn’t it?” said Elliot, conversationally. “I’ll walk with you. I’m to see you home, remember?” Anne smiled. “So, what do you think of the Dalrymples?” he asked her, “Now that you have met them, at long last.”

“I can’t say that I found them superior at all,” Anne admitted, as they turned down another street. “I expected someone sensible to be at the head of such a successful company. But she seemed, well, silly, shallow.”

“I think she has a board that sees to the success. She adds a sense of family ownership, and a sense of glamour to the company, you must admit. She dresses quite well, and looks very good for a woman of her age. Even in this day and age there are few enough companies with women leading them, especially women of her age. I think she enjoys her role as business queen. And she isn’t quite so shallow as you’d think. She’s taking her time with this bid. I think that there is much your father could offer, but whether she shows it or not, I think she is aware of some of his flaws.”

“Be that as it may, I can’t say that I like the way my father grovels at her name. He spends more time preparing to be seen in company with her than he does with his bid.”

“But surely it is better that your father’s attentions are focused upon something related to his bed rather than... elsewhere?”

Anne was silent, thinking of Nell. She sighed, and tried a different angle. “Why is it that people with money are such sought-after company? If Mrs. Dalrymple didn’t dress so well, you could easily say that she’d bear a strong resemblance to a pug. As it is, one stares at her clothes and not her face.”

“Which is just as well, I agree.” Elliot grinned, then resumed a serious face. “Wealthy people are sought out because of their ability to dictate to society. No one will pay attention to any random soul. If you have money, you can make your voice heard. Thus it is the rich who dictate what makes up good society.”

“I cannot think that wealth makes for good society. Anyone could have wealth, if you consider the lottery.”

“No, you are right. Good society is a combination of wealth, education and manners. Though education is often overlooked.”

“You can’t believe that, surely? Good society is a group of educated people, with understanding, patience, empathy, who can converse easily and well.”

“That,” said Elliot, giving a surprised Anne a small hug, “is not good society. That is the best. You little idealist. I’m afraid to say that the world is not quite so perfect. If it was you should be the head of Dalrymple Ltd. and not our friend the pug.”

Chapter Eighteen:

Christmas came and went with enough frivolity to suit Anne and enough social victories to please her family. She was well pleased with the celebrations she was able to put forth for her family, and Nell, Elliot, and his friends, if no one else, expressed their delight and gratitude in her efforts. Liz, in her holiday cheer, was even so good as to mention to Anne that the goose had been an excellent choice and the tree tasteful. The dinner had gone very well, which, considering that there had been four courses, was a satisfying achievement. Gifts had been exchanged among all, and everyone had joined in to charades and crackers and all manner of traditional holiday cheer. Walter, as usual, pressured Anne to take to the piano bench and proceeded to boom forth carols in his powerful voice. It was discovered that Elliot and Nell also possessed good singing voices, and each was pressured to take various solos as Anne ran through her caroling repertoire. All in all, Anne had enjoyed the evening very much.

Amidst all the revelry Anne also remembered to share holiday cheer with her friends elsewhere, most particularly with Susan, to whom she had promised a long phone-call as a gift. Susan was only too delighted to talk to Anne, to share her own Christmas stories and catch up on gossip. She had only spoken to Susan once since she had arrived in Bath, but considering that Susan’s parents had recently been on the phone with Walter, she was remarkably up to date. Most particularly, she wanted to know about Elliot. Ever since Anne had given way and posted pictures of her holiday to her online album, Susan had decided that Elliot was just the person to take Anne’s attentions away from Fred’s frustrating reappearance. The only trouble with this plan was that Anne just didn’t seem interested in the man, apart from friendship. Still, it wouldn’t do to give up while there was still a chance.

“How’s Elliot?” asked Susan, drawling out his name.

“Fine. He’s always fine. I’m starting to think that you have ulterior motives.”

“Me? Never.”

“How was your Christmas?”

“Jolly. Aunt Mildred sat on one of Harry’s model steam-trains, and there was a huge fuss. Serves him right for leaving the nasty things around.”

Anne, who had seen examples of the model trains and rather admired them, scolded her friend. “They’re rather lovely little things. I’m sure he was upset.”

“No need to go and yank the holly from a vase and throw it at the old girl, though.”

“Did he? Good grief.”

“And then mother said that Harry should go upstairs, which made my cousin Lily cry, because she rather hero-worships Harry on account of the faces he makes when no one is looking. Give me your tiny family any day.”

“We had guests over, to make it more festive.”

“Guests? Your mother’s friends?”

“No. My father doesn’t seem to like them. Won’t have much to do with them. And in any case Clara and her father were in Town for the holidays. They’re coming back to give a New Year’s Eve party though. I’ve been reserved for it for ages. Apparently some of my mother’s other friends will be there. I’d like to meet people my mother knew.”

“That’s adorable. Maybe you’ll meet some gorgeous young aristocrat who will sweep you off your feet.”

“Liz is the one who collects aristocrats, not me.”

“All right, all right. Who came to the Elliot festivities, then?”

“Well, Elliot, naturally.”

“That boy is so hot.”

“I know he’s fairly attractive, but when his hair needs a cut he starts to look like a basset hound.”

“He’d be the hottest basset hound on earth, then. I can’t believe you’re not in love with him. Tell me you’re secretly in love with him, but holding back on account of Liz.”

“I’m afraid I’m not. Maybe it would be very convenient if I was. Young English graduate, fairly fresh from a bad relationship, young American student who’s, well. Anyway. I’m not. He’s attractive and funny and friendly, but I can’t say that I’d be able to see him in that way. He can be so stiff, and he won’t completely step away from the idea that money and, well, fame is everything. He tells me all kinds of stories, but he’s not frank about everything. Sometimes I get much more from his friend than from him. He won’t talk about his life since graduation to me, much, at all.”

“And a lack of complete candor is going to turn you off from something as gorgeous as he is?”

“Maybe if you met him you’d understand my reserve. He’s a fabulous friend. I love spending time with him, talking with him. But we’re not equals of soul. You know that I’m nice to everyone. I can’t help but be. But I’m honest about people, too. I won’t insinuate things about people behind their backs and the next minute pretend that we’re best friends. He does. I’ve seen him.”

“Plenty of people are like that. Seven-eighths of the population is made up of hypocrites and liars. It’s just the way society has evolved. Sad, isn’t it?”

“I’ll take my chances in finding people of that last eighth, then.”

“You’re unique, Anne. Anyone else would just grab Elliot while he’s available and then keep on looking afterwards.”

“As you say, I’m unique.” Anne started as someone knocked on the door, and Elliot’s head poked through. He smiled, noticing that she was on the phone, and left. “Good grief, he just poked his head in the room. I don’t want to discuss him right now, all right? How about you tell me all your gossip now.” And Susan did.

The festive mood generated by Christmas kept affairs in Camden Place singularly peaceful until New Year’s Eve. Anne had changed into a nice but plain skirt and top, and was bundling into her coat and scarf when her father approached her.

“Have you seen my green tie?” he asked, her looking around vaguely, as if maybe it was hidden on her person.

“No. Check your tie-rack. I tidied up a bit.”

“Of course. I say, you rather improved. I had thought you looked a bit off at first, but I think Bath must be agreeing with you. Are you using anything?”

“Not in particular.”

“I suggested a regime to Nell, and I must say that she looks very well indeed. It’s done wonders for her skin. Now, aren’t you ready a bit early? The girls won’t be down for another half-hour at least.”

“No, I’m not early,” said Anne, confused. “I’m in good time, but not early. And I didn’t know that you were coming.”

“Didn’t know that we were coming? Of course we’re coming. Do you think we’d miss an evening with Mrs. Dalrymple?”

“Mrs. Dalrymple? Is she to be there, then?” Anne was further baffled. She didn’t really see Mrs. Dalrymple as the sort of person who would like to spend time with people like the Smiths. Another reason not to like the woman.

“Of course she’ll be there. It’s her own house. She invited us.”

“There must be some sort of misunderstanding. Do I take you to mean that you are heading to Mrs. Dalrymple’s?”

“Of course. And so are you. She’s invited us over for the evening. Wine, and music and a view of fireworks. I’m sure I told you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Well, no harm done. You’re ready, as I can see. A bit simply dressed, perhaps, but ready.”

“There’s been a mistake. No one told me that we were to go to Mrs. Dalrymple’s. I’ve been engaged these last two and a half weeks to go to the Smith’s New Year’s gathering.”

“The Smiths? The Smiths! Who are the Smiths? Certainly no one in comparison to Mrs. Dalrymple. The woman’s a millionaire! It’s very important not to offend her. She’s about to deliver her decision, and I wouldn’t like to make her change her mind on account of taking your absence as a slight. She took something of a liking to you, I gather. Just call up your friends and tell them that you can’t come.”

“I cannot do that, sir,” said Anne, a little coldly. “I promised them weeks ago, and they’ve invited people specially to meet me. Most of those people will have already set out, or arrived. I cannot not come. It would be very rude, and furthermore I want to go.”

“What’s all the trouble?” asked Liz, coming down the stairs in a sea-green silk dressing-gown. “I can’t concentrate with all this fuss.”

“Your sister has declared that she is going to spend the evening with some Smiths, instead of coming along to Mrs. Dalrymple’s with us.” Liz stared.

“Anne, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not,” cried Anne. “I’m really not. No one told me about this. Perhaps if you had I might have made an excuse much earlier. But not now, I won’t, and I don’t want to. Liz, maybe you would rather spend the evening with the Dalrymple millions, but I would like to have the chance to meet our mother’s friends. I’m going, now, to the Smiths’. I ask that you make my excuses to Mrs. Dalrymple, I am sorry if I disrupt her numbers, but it cannot be helped. I’d wish you all a pleasant new year, but it seems that I have just ruined it by being uninformed of your social calendar. If things mean so much to you, I beg that you inform me. I am tired of trying to read your minds.” Anne stormed out the door, her color unnaturally heightened. She hailed a cab not far from the house and sat back, breathing deeply.

“Westgate Buildings,” she directed after a moment.

“Right you are,” said the cabbie, and swung his vehicle out into the street.

Inside the house Walter was looking about in shock.

“Goodness me,” he said, “I wonder if it was something she ate. Most unusual. I’ll tell Mrs. Pierce to toss out the shrimps, anyway, just in case.” He started back up the stairs, in pursuit of the green tie. Nell Clay appeared at the door of her room, in a golden negligee. “It’s nothing Nell, just my youngest daughter acting most strangely. Very odd. Are you going to wear the blue dress? I must say I admire that dress greatly, and Mrs. Dalrymple seems pleased with my tastes. And goodness knows how we’ll have to please her to make up for that Anne. The Smiths, indeed!”

Anne enjoyed the party with the Smiths very much. her mother’s friends were kindly, intelligent people, the very sort whom Anne considered the best company. There was some small resentment at the fact that her father wasn’t in attendance, and it soon became somewhat apparent that he was held in no great esteem among these people. To his defense, however, he had started out an amiable enough man, but somehow his own family, home and looks had gone to his head in the end, and there was nothing to be done for that. The memories of her mother were all warm and sweet for Anne, and she found the evening well worth the slights she endured from her father and sister for the remaining days of her vacation.

They finally thawed out shortly before the time of her departure, when it became clear that Mrs. Dalrymple did not hold anything against the entire family on account of Anne’s behavior. The bid was finally accepted, and Anne was quite pleased. It was an important one for her father and the firm, she knew. Her father even went so far as to hold a small dinner in honor of Anne’s imminent leave-taking. Everyone was in a lovely mood on account of the news of the bid, and excited about future developments, Elliot in particular.

“This is a break, I’ll say. I was starting to think that the woman was just plain contrary,” Elliot remarked. He’d offered to drive Anne back to campus since he had business in York. “But I have to admit that I’ve gotten involved in this whole venture, and I don’t doubt that it will be lucrative if we all work at it. And it’s a bit of luck, me getting sent to York, isn’t it? We won’t have to give up our chats.”

“Is that why you’ve got to go to York, then?”

“Flat-hunting. I figure I’ll work from there. I’m getting a bit tired of Bath. Time to give Yorkshire a chance. Anyway, it won’t hurt to see what your uni’s like, since I’ll be in the area.” Anne found that she was pleased that Elliot would be in the area, she did enjoy their talks, although she was a little bit wary as well. She hadn’t detected any particular attention on his part, but Susan’s conversation had made her conscious of him. She knew that she didn’t think him honest enough as a man to suit her well, but she thought him a fun and interesting friend, and would have been sorry to lose him completely. This was an ideal situation: they might see each other from time to time, but he would be occupied with his job and she by her schoolwork and activities.

Even with a generally refreshing holiday, Anne was pleased to arrive back at Uppercross, armed with books and ready for exams. It was absolute bliss to return to the homey little room and to see Mary waiting there. Mary immediately leapt up and hugged Anne, her complaints and illnesses momentarily forgotten in her excitement in being rejoined with her roommate.

“Anne! It’s so good to see you! I was wondering when you’d get back. It was such an interesting vacation it really was. Have you talked to Hetty recently?”

“I haven’t really heard from anyone recently,” said Anne, mildly. “They must love you better than they do me.”

“Oh, you were just too busy having a nice time in Bath to have to take to meddling in other people’s business.” Anne grinned, this was true.

“What’s new with Hetty?”

“Oh, with Hetty? Nothing, really. Except that Hayter got some lovely research grant for the summer, and had a paper published. I’m starting to be rather pleased with him, really I am.”

“You seem very cheerful about everything.”

“I am. Having spent time with Charles and Hetty and their families I have got to say that I understand how Hayter fits in. And he is a sweet boy. So is Charles. He’s really a wonderful guy. He got me a lovely little present, I’ll have to show it to you... but wait, I had news!”

“From Hetty, then?”

“I heard it through Hetty, yes. It concerns Louisa.”

“Louisa? How is she? She is coming back, isn’t she?”

“Next term, yes. She’s fine. Healthy as a horse. Happy as a clam.”

“Happy?”

Mary grinned. “Yes. You’ll never guess!”

“I wasn’t planning to. You usually tell me.”

“She spent the holidays in the States.”

“You said.”

“With James Benwick.”

“What?” Anne was momentarily stunned. That was unexpected. Very unexpected. “Well, I guess they were together in Lyme. It could happen.”

“It did. And poetry. Apparently Louisa has gone poetic. Something like that, anyway. She has admitted that she adores James, and she’s still in the States. She’s visiting him at his college for a few days, and then she’ll come back home.”

“So it’s serious,” murmured Anne. Louisa and James. It was unlikely, but it had happened. She would have thought... yes, it had looked as if Louisa and Fred were going to be an item if they weren’t already. But this said otherwise. Fred and James might live near each other, but if Louisa was staying with James back in Minnesota, there could be no doubt which boy she had chosen. That meant that Fred... poor Fred! He must be heartbroken. How awful that two girls should have hurt him. Anne felt a rush of sympathy for Fred, and a small dash of hope. Maybe... maybe...

“Of course we all thought that she and Fred were a thingy. You know. Then this! It’s surprising, that’s what it is. Couldn’t believe it. I made Hetty show me the e-mail. Well, I guess Fred will have to start again. But there are plenty of nice girls around campus, I’m sure. I’ll keep my eye out for someone who’d suit him.”

“I think you shouldn’t push,” said Anne, a little sharply.

“Maybe you’re right,” agreed Mary. “Oh! I almost forgot, I brought you a present.”

“Is it a mince pie?” asked Anne, with a lively spark of humor in her eye.

“Funny enough I have one of those as well,” said Mary. “How did you guess?”

Continued in Next Section