Section I, Next Section
Part One Posted on Friday, 5 August 2005
The Face I Can't Forget
She may be the face I can't forget... *
Anne did not need to pick up copies of The Sun, The Express** or any other tabloid to realize that her family, more particularly her father and elder sister Elizabeth, were deep in debt. However if she had been ignorant of this matter then it most certainly would have been brought to her attention by a full colour double spread in one of those papers which detailed all the Elliots' spending expenses, an "exclusive" on how much debt they were in and a scathing commentary on how the rich were squandering away their money on useless things such as a fully equipped boutique and its staff in Kellynch Hall. Anne remembered the installation of it with horror, remembered her futile attempts at stopping it, but most of all remembered that every month the contents of the shops HAD to be changed. She was thankful that the last detail had not made it into the papers. Yet.
It seemed to Anne that she had lived longer than her twenty-seven years. Perhaps that was a result of living with a sister who at twenty nine still believed herself to be nineteen and a father who was fifty four but who dressed and acted like a twenty something. She had no other companions in the house apart from the servants but although she was kind and friendly to them, and them to her, the lines of servant-mistress would never be crossed. Her only friend, only close friend, was Lady Susan Russell who had married a Lord but who had died before any children could be issued. Lady Russell was a kind woman, a very learned woman and also one who was not only the patron of charities but cared about them as well. However she was also very demanding: loyalty must be shown to her at all times and she valued prudence and fidelity above anything else. Maybe that was why she had not married Sir Walter Elliot when his wife and her best friend died. Or perhaps, as Anne thought, no matter what devotion she had to Anne and her late mother Lady Russell was far too sensible to connect herself with the foolish Elliot family.
While musing over these thoughts in the study Anne had not noticed Susan's Mercedes drive up to Kellynch. Now, the former ran out of the study and down the grand flight of stairs which her father had had newly finished with gold trimming on the banister, merely because Elizabeth had declared one day that the previous white gold was too bright for her and her father's complexions to be seen at their best. Walter Elliot had acted with great haste. Very important matter, very important matter indeed!
"Ah, Lady Russell! What brings you here today? I say we have quite the number of guests, Mr. Shepherd and his daughter Penelope! She's quite beautiful now, much more than what I recall of her before her marriage." Susan Russell, with all her good breeding, barely had the power to stop herself rolling her eyes at Walter Elliot's last remark. Penelope Clay, or Shepherd as was, was never what she would call a beauty: much too vulgar and base for her taste and should be for Walter Elliot's too.
Also, she knew perfectly well that Walter had not known about Penelope Clay before she was married as Elizabeth had not known her and that upstart Shepherd had not been in Sir Walter's employ. No, beauty was not Penelope Clay.
"Sir Walter, I fear that I am not here on pleasure but rather on business."
"Oh? And what may this business be Lady Russell? If you want me to donate to your children's shelter then I am afraid I cannot for I have not the money at the moment for unnecessary expenses having just finished the Stone Room which Penelope told Elizabeth and myself about. Quite relaxing."
"Stone Garden?" Lady Russell's tone was curious but also slightly disapproving, knowing that if she had not heard of such a room and Penelope Clay had and if Walter thought it a good thing then it most certainly a bad venture.
"Room my dear Lady Russell. A very fine room which has four large granite stones in it and must be decorated with taste to achieve the calming effect. Elizabeth and I decided on a gold and animal print theme. Very African. Like one goes on a safari everyday."
Susan suppressed a sigh. She highly doubted if Walter's interpretation of "Africa" was accurate or tasteful and most probably the decor belonged in a tart's boudoir and not in a stately home which was nearly four hundred years old. "Sir Walter if I may, could I have an audience with yourself and Elizabeth. It is urgent. I need Anne too."
"Anne? I have no idea where Anne is. I believe I recall something about going to France for a holiday. But anyway, what use is Anne to us?"
"Sir," Lady Russell began tersely. "Anne is of great importance. She is your daughter and you would do well to remember it." Walter Elliot seemed taken aback by such a remark from such a genteel woman but shrugged it off when he realized what the stress of losing one's looks, something that Walter was confident should never happen to him, and developing crow's feet must do to one. Even a person as prestigious as Lady Russell.
Anne chose this moment to make her presence known. She quietly coughed and soon the faces of the two were glancing in her direction. Susan's displayed all the happiness that seeing a friend did to her and Walter's merely reflected his attitude to Anne.
"Oh Anne! I thought you to be in France. Did you not say that you were visiting it with your friends?"
"I did father. Two years ago."
Anne remembered that visit to France very well. It had been Susan's suggestion that she go somewhere to try and lift her spirits. Several places had been suggested but Anne's natural affinity was with France. She loved the country and all the history attached. She also recollected her father's words when she announced that she was going there. Something along the lines of "what use is a country if it cannot keep out the Germans?"*** Despite her father's slight xenophobic tendencies, Anne was sure that he would have loved Versailles. She could imagine Walter Elliot and his eldest daughter quite happily setting up station in the Chateau. More than likely however, they would both have proclaimed the place to be quite inferior to their standards of living because it was not Kellynch.
She and her friends Will Darcy, Charles Bingley, Emma Woodhouse and George Knightley went on a rather calming holiday in the region just outside Paris so that if they wanted to make a night of it they could easily drive there but equally, if they wanted to, stay away from city life and enjoy themselves in tranquility. She had enjoyed herself, felt closer to the Anne Elliot of eight years ago than she ever had. All in all she was beginning to feel that soon she would, or at least could, regain some modicum of happiness. Until one rather fateful day in a small Parisian cafe.
Two years previous, Paris
Anne Elliot was casually picking at a croissant while listening to her friends talk about British politics and how voters would be sorry that they ever voted the current government into power. Emma and Will had strong Tory convictions, Anne was neither a devout Conservative or Labour voter, Charles was somewhat dazzled at the opinions that Will and Emma were throwing into the conversation and George was doing what he always seemed to be doing, at least to Emma anyway, he was trying to antagonize her.
"Emma! You can't honestly believe that a back to basics Tory party would do any good for Britain. Look at what Labour stand for. Social justice for all!" George's eyes were twinkling with mischief as he deliberately provoked his long-time friend.
"George Knightley! I cannot honestly believe that you would even consider a Labour Government. And to proclaim that they are socialist! This one at least is nothing of the kind. Just a spin government."
"Oh but my dear friend, I am only pointing out the aspects of each party." Will glanced at Anne at George's comment, a smile tweaking the edges of his mouth. Emma was so easily wound up at times. Of course, he suspected that it was because George had had twenty-one years of practice and not merely Emma's sensitive nature. Perhaps Knightley was simply the bravest man of the three. Will knew that neither himself nor Charles would dare ignite the temper of Emma Woodhouse!
"Aspects?"
"Indeed. However if you feel that my political tendencies are not up to your standards then I will gladly change them."
"Good." Emma sounded triumphant. Such a relatively easy win over George.
"I'll vote Lib. Dem. Instead."**** George's comment barely had time to reach Emma's ears before she chucked, rather a violent chuck at that, the newspaper from which the argument had all started. It landed on George's face with a thump that made the surrounding occupants of the cafe look round at the table. Charles and Anne were the only ones who seemed slightly embarrassed of their friends' actions and smiled apologetically while Will had grabbed the newspaper from George's plate where it had landed after rebounding off the latter's face, giving it all his attention until people stopped looking at them.
"I say, Darce, is there anything interesting in the paper?" Charles was eager to get the atmosphere at the table back to a stable level. Emma had her arms folded and was staring at the passers by, meanwhile her adversary was looking rather put out and had a large scarlet patch on his left cheek from where the paper had hit.
"Not much Bingley. Political unrest about the EU, an article on the British Prime Minister and," Will paused while turning the page, "an account of the tennis at Roland Garros." Folding the paper closed and setting it on the table Will leaned back in his chair and basked in the early morning sun.
All was silent for a few minutes until Anne excused herself to get another orange juice. From what she could hear the silence had returned. In the middle of ordering Anne heard a loud "Oh my Gosh" from Emma. Hoping that George had done something to make up with her Anne turned round. The sight that greeted her was the one she least expected.
*lyrics come from a song sang by Elvis Costello - not mine
**For those who are not British here is a short explanation as to the identity of the papers mentioned. The Sun is traditionally a left wing newspaper which usually supports the socialist party of Labour. The Express, like the sun is considered a tabloid, but is sometimes also seen as a cross between the up market broadsheet papers that are considered better quality than the tabloids (i.e. Don't have "exclusive" celebrity stories or other 'trashy' things). The Express is considered to be a paper of the middle classes (e.g. People who work in well paid jobs but who are not overly wealthy).
***Please not that the opinion expressed by Sir Walter Elliot is not one that the author shares. Instead the author is more inclined to agree with Anne and love the country.
****British politics. Two lovely words. Again the opinions presented in the story are those that I thought the characters would have. After all it only makes sense that Darcy and Emma, and Knightley too, have Tory (Conservative) viewpoints as they are the upper classes of society and would traditionally have supported said party. Charles as so-called "new money" would probably not have such strong leanings either way and anyway I don't think that Charles Bingley would impose his views as forcefully as Emma does. Anne, being probably the most sensible of them, would weigh up all policies and not have a strict favourite party.
And now....The explanation. Labour is a Socialist party and is meant to stand up for worker's rights. The Conservative Party, probably most famous under Margaret Thatcher's leadership, is probably the party that would get the support of the middle and upper classes rather than the working classes. The UK Conservative attitude is not the same as the American one. Lib. Dem. Stands for Liberal Democrats. This is a party that is third most supported in Britain following Labour and the Tories. It is a pro-Europe party and therefore supports an introduction of the Euro into British society. However all these parties basically are all in the centre as they do not take extreme right or left wing positions.
Part Two Posted on Saturday, 13 August 2005
The glass of orange juice was clenched in Anne's hand as she watched her friends. Despite her best wishes, Emma's outburst was not a result of George's remarkable ability to worm his way back into Emma's affections (a talent that he had mastered over several years and one which was used frequently). The noise was a result of the former spotting a person in the early morning crowd who had apparently been about to pass their table. It was a man. A tall, dark-haired man. One whom Anne recognized all too well. The man she had refused six years ago. Frederick Wentworth.
Frederick sat down at Emma's side after the latter's cajoling him to sit down. Anne couldn't see his face. She wasn't sure she would be able to. At least not without losing all the feeling in her legs and collapsing like a puddle of jelly onto the polished floor of the café, thereby throwing herself at his feet and begging forgiveness. Of course there was no way that even without her legs going wobbly she wouldn't plead absolution from him.
All Anne could she was his back. Still she knew from some ancient sense of recognition that it was Him. Judging by his clothes he had done well for himself. Anne rebuked herself. Of course he would have achieved success. He always said that he would become rich and, in his eyes, more worthy of my love. Anyway you read about him. It was true. As much as Anne tried to fool herself she had found that every newspaper, magazine and book that contained even the thinnest piece of information about Frederick she had bought. It was, she realized, a vain attempt to stay connected to him. The last attempt.
Back at the table Emma was flirting outrageously with Frederick. It was obvious that she found him attractive and their friends saw that too. Will was smirking slightly but with a bit of a frown of disapproval, Charles was beaming and George was in a serious huff which was, at the time, unnoticed by his best friend. So oblivious. Anne felt a flare of angry jealously inside her and tried to quash it. Emma was one of her best friends. Frederick had been her best friend at one stage. And her soon to be husband. She should be happy for them but in truth her feelings were as dissimilar to that notion and were closer to George's more obvious envy and disgust. As Emma's hand moved towards Frederick's shoulder she could bear to see it so Anne averted her gaze to a rather nice painting of a vase of lilies and roses. Very calming. If only.
After she felt herself tempted to look at Frederick again she clutched the chair behind her and unwittingly whacked the occupant of the chair with the back of her hand. Face scarlet with embarrassment again, she turned to apologize when her eyes met crystal blue ones. She had never seen such striking eyes. Perhaps if she had not been so pre-occupied with Frederick she would have been more willing to participate in a conversation with this man. However she could only go through pleasantries and then vaguely realized that the man was introducing himself. She didn't catch his name though and didn't offer hers in return. She must have still been in a slight daze because the man asked her if she was feeling well. Replying yes, she turned back to the table and saw that Will was looking at her with concern on his face. Anne managed to smile in reply and it seemed to satisfy him because he looked away from her and her gaze was focused on Frederick again.
Watching him talking to her friends Anne realized that the jealousy she had been feeling, she had no right to be feeling. When one looked back on events Anne and Frederick had only been in each other's company for a couple of months and that she had rejected him. It was that simple, a meeting and a refusal. As long as you ignored the whispered words of love and the time that Frederick had climbed up to her room with a bunch of white lilies and when afterwards he had lost his footing on the trellis had fallen into the shrubs below her window and then the dogs came and her father's steward and....Anne forced herself to stop thinking about all the times that he had made her laugh and made her feel as though she was worth something. All the fun they had had. It was too late. She could feel the agony of past memories, past happiness charging through her veins and tears pricked in her eyes. No. She did not deserve to be jealous. She had lost him forever and now he was out of her reach again.
Before the pain could paralyse her as it had done at frequent bouts since their separation. Anne remembered all the reasons that she had used for their separation. Lady Russell had said that Anne would be held back by Frederick, Anne believed the opposite and now she was proven correct. He had prospered and in Anne's opinion would not have done so with the added pressure of her and any family they might have had. Any children. Anne sensed that tears were eminent and reality struck when she realized that she would have been happy. She would have been with Frederick, had her career and even raised a family. Two children, Anne imagined that they would have had now. A girl, Evelyn Emilia, with Frederick's intense eyes and a boy, just born, Harry Edward. Their little family.
Anne shook the notion out of her head. That dream had been indulged too often to hope that Anne would be completely sane. She confessed to herself that often when the night was stormy and the wind battered against the lead windows of her bedroom or when her father and Elizabeth had been particularly horrid she had envisioned what the quiet family life would have been at the Wentworths. It had been something that would keep Anne from curling up and crying until all her soul was cried out and prevent her from sinking into depression again.
It was obvious to Anne that she still loved him. Had never stopped. Even when Susan had assumed that Anne had long forgotten about Frederick, or at least ceased to love him as passionately as she had when she was nineteen. However as she observed him flirting with Emma - yes he was flirting - she realized one thing. She loved Frederick Wentworth.
But Frederick Wentworth did not love her.
Gathering up her strength Anne forced herself to move towards the table where he sat. Her feet didn't seem to respond though. They suddenly weighed tons, and even Anne could not convince herself that it was because of the calories in the croissant which she had had for breakfast. As soon as the heavy sensation moved from her legs she started to take very small steps towards her friends. She was about three metres away from Frederick, who was sitting with his back to her, and as Anne realized with an electrifying jolt was relaxing in HER seat. As she was processing this information Frederick rose, shook hands with the guys (a brave feat considering that George looked like he was a rabid pit bull waiting to attack), kissed Emma's cheek lightly, grabbed his bag which he had left at his feet and jogged off.
The moment that Frederick left Anne realized what a stupid fool she had been. She had spent the last six long years of her life daydreaming that Frederick and she would meet again. By that stage Anne supposed that his rage and resentment would have cooled. Now the chance had been wasted and she would have to resign herself to a life without Frederick yet again. The hope was gone and in its place was despair. Despair because she had just witnessed the one emotion, or rather non-emotion, that she had never hoped to see from Frederick. It was crucifying her, but in Anne's mind she deserved it. Frederick didn't care.
Upon regaining her sense Anne concluded that her absence must have raised some questions with her friends. Trying to get her complexion to a normal shade - Anne was convinced that she was either crimson with embarrassment or deathly white with shock - she took a deep breath and attempted to walk casually to the table. When she reached her destination Emma immediately seized her.
"Oh Anne. You're so unlucky. You'll never guess who we just saw!" Anne feigned ignorance. George however was still in a huff.
"I'm sure she knows. She cannot failed to have noticed your shrieks and shaming behaviour. Honestly Emma you were throwing yourself at him." George's rage might have been comical to Anne under different subjects but considering that the object of said anger was Anne's ex-fiancé she wasn't finding it amusing. Anne wished that in a couple of years' time she would be able to look back over the incident and laugh. Although she knew that it would be most likely that Anne would look back and cry.
"I confess that I did see someone sitting with you. However I did not see his face and therefore could not identify him." At least part of that statement was true.
"I knew you wouldn't know who!" Emma's tone was jubilant and she glanced smugly towards George as if she was declaring a victory. However Emma's voice also declared that she would be giving Anne the full story of the meeting with full running commentary about his clothes, his manners and most importantly how despicably George had acted. So Anne braced herself for the worst. Tried to smile. That, however, ended up being extremely hard to do.
"Well it was Frederick Wentworth. The Frederick Wentworth," Emma's face was positively glowing with excitement and her speech was slightly quicker than normal in her rush to tell Anne all before one of the guys, Anne had an inkling that it was George Emma was thinking of, could spoil her fun.
"Oh Emma that clears it up. Now Anne knows that it could be one of millions of Freddie Wentworths."
"George!"
Anne let herself drift off from the drama that was Emma and George's relationship. She had winced when she heard George address Frederick as Freddie. She recalled that Frederick had always hated the majority of nicknames. He hadn't minded Fred (he supposed that people would just get exhausted from saying Frederick all the time. Anne didn't), but upon meeting Elizabeth Elliot he had stated vehemently that if anyone, with the exception of Anne, called him Freddie or, as Elizabeth had done, Ricky, he would not be responsible for the consequences.
Anne remembered the meeting of her beau and eldest sister with great amusement and only a tinge of sadness. It had been in a café, much like the one she was in now, and they had sat at a window table. It was mid-December and, unusually for the UK, it was snowing so when it had become too cold to throw snowballs at each other for any longer, Frederick had suggested the nearest of the two cafés in Kellynch (and the one he didn't work in) and the two had ran off towards it. They had sat and joked together, Anne with a mug of hot chocolate and marshmallows and Frederick with a straight black cup of coffee. Anne recalled expressing her hatred for anything without lots of either sugar, milk or chocolate. Frederick had laughed at her and her chocolate obsession. When she asked him why he drank his coffee black she received the most unusual response.
Six years ago
"I don't normally drink straight black coffee. It's just that every time you're in the vicinity I completely lose whatever was in my mind the second before. Straight black coffee's the one thing that always sticks in it though so that's why I drink it. So as not to make a fool of myself in front of you." Frederick's sincere tone told Anne that it definitely was not a chat-up line. She blushed and was immediately glad that the dim lighting was so low that Frederick could not see the unnatural shade of her face. It seemed that he had though, or at least had guessed, and in an attempt to diffuse the situation decided to tease her.
"Also dearest Anne, oh light of my heart and breath of my soul, I must confess that you are so sugary sweet with all that chocolate that I need something to remedy that so my coffee is bitter. And after all, sweetest Anne, too much of one thing is very bad for you." The high false tone was too much for Anne and she collapsed into giggles. Frederick's booming laughter soon filled the place as well.
Laughter could only last so long and with sore throats and running eyes, Frederick gazed out the window. Soon he found another way to make Anne laugh, something that he was very fond of doing. In his opinion she looked even more breath taking than normal when she giggled. Anne watched Frederick as she saw a familiar sparkle in his eyes.
"Now Miss Elliot, would you care to join me for a spot of sight-seeing?"
"Sight-seeing?" Anne didn't know what she had expected but it certainly wasn't that.
"Indeed. It's a very educational pursuit. You should know - you go to Oxford." He was teasing her and seemingly couldn't resist the opportunity to let her relax.
"Yes Frederick. However I do not know much about sightseeing. We never go anywhere remotely educational on holiday, not since mother died at least. All father and Elizabeth are interested in is being seen in the right places with the right people. It all gets very tiring." Anne found herself sliding slightly into a patch of melancholy. Frederick seemed to sense it because he attempted to change the topic.
"Also you study English Lit. It's not exactly the hardest subject in the world."
"Frederick!" For a moment Anne thought that Frederick was serious.
"Well it's not exactly astrophysics or anything like that." Frederick ducked quickly as Anne chucked a violet cushion at him which had been sitting near the window. Once again they were laughing, Anne had never felt like this with some one before. She realized at that moment that she was in love with him. Absolutely, completely, irrevocably in love with Frederick Wentworth. After a few minutes she heard Frederick's voice.
"...say?"
"Pardon?"
"What do you say, about the sight-seeing?" His smile was infectious. Soon she found herself agreeing with him. Walking blindly into things was not what Anne Elliot was used to doing. Truth be told she had once prided herself on considering things through thoroughly. Until Frederick Wentworth. Realizing that they weren't moving from the seats she looked inquiringly at her partner. He in turn moved his chair until it was facing the window. Telling her to do the same he drank some of the coffee and shuddered slightly.
"Now Miss Anne I present for your entertainment the follies of Kellynch society. Look, here's a woman who's wearing what looks like a yellow t-shirt with green and - dare I say - purple striped leggings. Who also appears to be wearing some sort of fox on her head."
"That's Mrs. Musgrove Frederick. She lives at Uppercross, she's really very nice. The fur hat's because her husband and eldest son go fox-hunting sometimes." Anne was slightly disapproving but recognized their activity for what it was - Frederick's attempt to make her feel better.
"Anyway, now there's a man wearing a black bag and - leggings once again! Really what is it with this town and tight fabric trousers?"
"That's Mr. William Collins. If you went to church you'd know that he's the visiting curate. Really Frederick you should know anyway. You're brother's the minister!"
"Oh that's Collins. Edward doesn't like him. Says, in the most Christian way of course, that he's a complete wa-"
Anne cut Frederick off before he could swear which seemed like it was once of his favourite activities, at least when riled. Anne did not believe for a second that Reverend Edward Wentworth who was a very gentle, calm man compared to his brother would swear. Especially about a man of the cloth.
"Oh, who's that walking monstrosity? Does she know what she looks like? Bl***y H**l. That looks like a mongrel cat crossed with G** knows what." Unlike his previous comments, Frederick actually seemed very shocked and slightly outraged about this woman's fashion sense. Anne couldn't resist and turned back to the window. Then whirled right back round.
"Anne? She's not that scary is she?"
"No."
"Then why ... Hold on. Why's cat lady coming in here? Now she's coming over. Do you know her?"
Anne looked up cautiously. "Cat-lady", as Frederick had dubbed her was looking at them rather like an eagle eyes up his prey. "Frederick, I'd like you to meet my elder sister Elizabeth Elliot." Frederick seemed shocked that Anne could be related to this woman. "Elizabeth, this is Frederick Wentworth."
"Indeed. And what do you do Freddie?"
"I'm working part-time in the other café in Kellynch. Really I'm training to be a pro-tennis player. Betsy." Elizabeth's back went up at that comment and then she revolved to face Anne and, deliberately annoying Frederick said, in her sweetest fake voice that she used with men whose bank balance she admired but not much else, "Daddy's waiting for you. You must get home and look after Mary. I know she's seventeen but really they do need so much attention at that age. Daddy and I are going to the health spa for the weekend. William Elliot might be there, he's remarked so to me in the past that he enjoys the manicures and massages there." Frederick muttered a word which sounded remarkably like the one Anne had cut off earlier. Stifling a smile she turned to Elizabeth.
"Elizabeth, Mary is old enough to look after herself. I'll be back soon anyway."
"I assure you she is not," Elizabeth's voice was hard and cold. "Anyway I want to see you home. Make sure that your playmate here doesn't get any ideas and take you back to Kellynch Hall himself. Maybe steal some silver while he's at it. Really Anne, you should know not to pick up these strays. You never know what diseases they've got." With that Elizabeth walked away to her hot pink sports car and sat inside it re-doing her make-up. Inside the café Frederick was fuming.
"How dare she!" Anne knew he would be this angry about Elizabeth's comments. She was too, however her sister was one of these people who didn't understand personal criticism. "How dare she talk to you like that!"
Anne was taken aback. Frederick was in a violent rage not because of Elizabeth's comments towards himself, but because her sister had insulted her. Deciding to calm the situation down Anne told Frederick that she must go back and look after Mary. However she promised him that she would see him tomorrow. He seemed to accept this and as she went swept her into a kiss. When she drew back to breathe she heard Frederick's whispered words.
"I love you."
Six years later
Emma and George's argument had just about finished when Emma started explaining again. "Anyway, Frederick Wentworth the tennis player - that's who it was. Said he was in France for some tournament."
"French Open," Will interjected.
"Right. So me being the genius that I am I asked him for his autograph. Not for me though - I haven't got the faintest clue about tennis and I only recognized him because he was in a magazine attending the premiere of Janna Harmison's new film with the leading lady herself - I got it addressed to you."
Anne had been in the middle of remembering the pain she had felt when she saw Frederick Wentworth, the British Number One tennis player, on the arm of the gorgeous Janna Harmison. However once she heard the last part of Emma's statement she went into severe shock and hyperventilation mode.
"What?!"
"You see I know how much you love tennis - I found the stack of magazines in your room, earmarked at the biography page of Frederick Wentworth need I say more? - so I got him to sign the napkin. See," Emma handed over a white napkin to Anne. On it was written the following:
To Anne
All my love
Frederick Wentworth
All his love. It was incredible. Of course he didn't know it was her but it still felt special. Like he hadn't really forgotten her as he hadn't seemed to have done when flirting with Emma. Anne closed her eyes, let all the busy thoughts out of her traffic-jammed mind and finally regained some sense of equilibrium.
Two years later, present time
Anne's family, Susan Russell, Penelope Clay and her father Mr. Shepherd were assembled in the lounge. Shepherd was discussing the need for a dramatic decrease in spending or else moving out of Kellynch Hall entirely.
"Move out? Scandalous! Imagine an Elliot having to move out of their ancestral home. Oh what would the neighbours think! Such a bad idea Shepherd." Walter Elliot's face was red with anger and Elizabeth's was getting that way too. Penelope, which Lady Russell could slightly respect her for, was saying nothing.
"Walter. You know that I am your dearest friend but I fear that there is no other alternative. You have too much debt and you will not adhere to the plans Anne and I have recommended." Susan was determined. She would not let Walter Elliot ruin himself and Anne with him. "I truly care about your family. Elizabeth was my best friend until she died. Please, let me help you know."
"Well Shepherd," said Walter after a moment, calmer than he had previously been, "where would you suggest I move to hmm? And how would I ever sell Kellynch Hall? Who would ever have the prestige to buy it?"
"I suggest Sir Walter that a man of your," Shepherd paused for an instant while searching for the correct word, "Your status. A baronet, and one of the finest in the land," Anne heard Susan sigh at the last remark. Anne, like Lady Russell, did not care for Mr. Shepherd, however if the flattery would get her father to move and reduce his debts into the bargain, then she must think the end worth the means, "could move to Bath, or London or even some other retreat in the country."
"The country! And what about the shame I would feel every time I encountered anyone who knew me. The glorious Sir Walter Elliot dragged down so low that he has to sell the family home! Despicable! However Bath and London both sound good. I shall try to reconcile myself to the idea of leaving Kellynch behind. Oh, and the Stone Room. What a waste. I hardly think that the new residents of my home will appreciate it for its full worth." Anne thought that the new residents would no doubt think as she had thought, that said room was a complete waste of space and would, with military precision, quickly get rid of it.
"Speaking of new residents. Tenants if you will. I made inquiries of several people, and one couple were certainly interested in the house." Shepherd appeared agitated as if unsure whether to continue and either risk getting sacked or cash in with thousands from the legal fees. Receiving no disapproval from the Baronet he continued. "They are Admiral and Mrs. Croft."
Anne's heart skipped several beats. Admiral and Mrs. Croft. Sophy Croft. Nee Wentworth. Frederick's sister. When she and Frederick had been acquainted he had told her a very humourous history about his family. Anne had especially enjoyed the tale of Sophy and the Admiral's courtship and had been convinced that Frederick had made parts of the anecdote up because Sophy had gotten married at eighteen and Frederick at that time was barely seven. However it had demonstrated the fun aspect of Frederick's character. Anyway, he had described Sophy and the Admiral of being less his sister and brother-in-law as a replacement for his parents who had both died when Frederick was eight.
Mr. Shepherd was busy informing Anne's father of Admiral Croft's ancestry and had just begun introducing Sophy's when he ran into a hurdle. "Does anyone remember the name of the minister of these parts a while back. Began with a 'W'. Walker, no that's not it, White, no not that either..."
"It was Wentworth. Reverend Edward Wentworth," Anne's voice was hushed and almost secretive. As the lawyer congratulated her on her memory Anne found Susan looking at her in quiet concern. Obviously Susan realized that Anne had not forgotten Frederick Wentworth. If she had then she would not have been so scared to answer. That was the bad part of having a close friend, Anne surmised, they knew you far too well.
Part Three Posted on Monday, 15 August 2005
After Sir Walter and his darling daughter Elizabeth had seen photographs of the prospective tenants of Kellynch Hall and ascertained that although Walter would not be ashamed to be seen in public with Admiral Croft and Elizabeth condescended to say that Sophy Croft was a well looking lady, the Crofts would not outshine the looks of Elizabeth and her father as they presumed would be held in the memories of the surrounding families of Kellynch. Therefore the Crofts were approved as worthy successors of Kellynch Hall. Temporary successors, Walter stressed. He was certain that at some stage in the near future he and Elizabeth would return triumphant.
Exactly one month after Mr. Shepherd had introduced the topic of leasing Kellynch Hall to the Crofts the deal was finalised. The only thing that was left was the inspection of the house by the new inhabitants. The Crofts had not bothered to come earlier because they felt that the house would be in good shape, a belief reinforced by the surveyor, and because they did not care for decoration. Anne recalled Elizabeth saying one day the previous week that the Crofts had told Penelope's father that they would likely not spend too much time inside if it was a fine day. Elizabeth had been scandalised and Walter too as it meant that, in the latter's opinion, Admiral Croft would become so weather-beaten that it would be a disgrace for the two to be seen in the vicinity of each other, let alone that Admiral Croft would be Sir Walter's tenant.
The Crofts had picked Friday to arrive at Kellynch. Anne told herself that she had gone into Kellynch for some shopping and afterwards to Susan's house for an unplanned afternoon tea. Definitely not because she wished to avoid his sister and brother-in-law. No, that would be unthinkable. Unforgivable too, if Anne was honest with herself. The fact that for three hours in the relatively small village of Kellynch she had bought nothing and had found herself dawdling at the café shop where Frederick had told her he loved her, had absolutely nothing at all to do with their visit. Of course, the other option for refreshment was at the café where Frederick had worked. Her presence there would have been inexcusable. In fact, in the eight years since their separation she had never once ventured into the café. The pain would have been too great for her.
However, Anne did encounter Admiral and Sophy Croft. Well, it wasn't much of an encounter, but she did look back on it with fond remembrance and only a hint of melancholy.
Anne had been dragging her feet up the drive of Kellynch Hall. She had refused Susan's offer of a lift because Anne did not want to meet the Crofts at this stage. What if they knew? No course they don't, she rebuked herself, When Frederick and she had become attached only Edward, her family and Lady Russell had been aware of it. Edward, as a minister, had taken great care to lecture Frederick of the duties of matrimony; something which Anne was sure had been more teasing than serious. She often remembered Frederick coming from one of these meetings with a flushed face and downcast eyes. Anne in turn would tease him a little and he would respond that it seemed as though he was rubbing off on her in a bad way.
"Why?"
"Because Anne, you're losing your innocence. Well, innocence of teasing."
She had been so caught up in these thoughts that she had become completely unaware of what was happening around her. The next thing she realized in the present day was that suddenly her face had come in contact with what felt like a very heavy, very solid stone.
"Oh I'm so sorry. I hope I didn't hurt you." Anne looked up in the direction that the gruff but kind voice had come from. She saw a man, in his forties perhaps early fifties, with button red cheeks and concern etched in the lines of his face. He was also extremely tall. Unusually tall. Then she realized that the hard pokes she felt on her back were a result of her falling onto the gravel of the driveway. She accepted the man's extended hand and with no small feeling of embarrassment began to apologize as profusely as the gentleman.
"Oh no sir. It is my fault. I confess that I was not thinking properly."
"Mind elsewhere eh?" The man was smiling at her and Anne felt that she could be friends with him. He shared the same teasing quality that Frederick had had albeit not as much. Also, he seemed very nice and kind and not snobby. If he was one of her father's or sister's friends then he would not have apologised or helped her up.
"Really dear, you can be so clumsy at times. I honestly don't know how you got to be Admiral. Sometimes I fear for our safety if you have advanced so far in your career. I dread to think about the lower ranks." The woman's voice was slightly serious, but she too seemed to like teasing. Anne thought her face looked familiar, but it couldn't be for she was sure she would remember a couple such as these two were.
"Oh Sophy, you know you love me really."
Admiral. Sophy. These two thoughts connected in Anne's mind and she figured out what she should have known long ago. These pleasant people were the Crofts. The new tenants of Kellynch Hall. His family.
"Please, excuse my husband's behaviour. I am Sophy Croft, and the man who almost gave you a concussion is my husband Admiral George Croft."
"It's nice to meet you. I'm Anne. Anne Elliot." Anne noticed that the couple exchanged glances and seemed to be in a little bit of shock. After a few moments of silence Sophy spoke again.
"Forgive me, but we did not know that there was another sister. We knew of Elizabeth and the younger one Mary."
"Yes, my father does concentrate more of Elizabeth, she is most like him I believe."
"Indeed, they are both very..."
"Glamourous? Yes they are. Mary is my younger sister by a few years. She is married to Charles Musgrove and they have two darling little sons. She lives not far from here. Another reason my father may not have mentioned me is because I do not live here permanently. I have a flat in town." Anne realized that she might have told the Crofts more than they actually wanted to hear and turned the conversation to a safer topic. "I hope that you liked the house."
"Oh indeed. I love stately homes and the grounds are amazing, I know that my husband and I will enjoy walking through them."
"I believe that you will. The pathways are very beautiful in the spring and autumn especially. I know that I have often escaped into the tranquility of them."
"Tranquility is a very useful thing for the gardens to have, especially as the house is so," Sophy searched for the inoffensive word, "strikingly decorated. Sir Walter assured us that we would find good use of the Stone Room." The Admiral muttered something under his breath which sounded to Anne like 'waste of space'. Sophy promptly whacked his side. The Admiral was suddenly quiet. Anne meanwhile was very entertained. She could see that the Crofts were a very happy married couple and was re-assured that they would make perfect tenants. Better than her father had been anyway.
"Oh Miss Elliot I'm afraid we have to go or else we'd stay and talk more. The Admiral has an appointment at the hospital."
"No, never mind. I hope that it isn't too serious?"
"No Miss Elliot, it's only my feet. Nothing more."
"I'm relieved. My mother passed away many years ago and I would not want the pain I went through to be suffered by anyone else." Anne was shocked at herself. Never had she revealed such intimate details in conversation before. Certainly not at the first meeting. She had never felt more comfortable with people except Frederick. She had not been so forward even with him at their first meeting, of course Anne had been very shy near him at that stage. The Crofts waved goodbye and expressed wishes of seeing Anne again when they moved in. Then Anne watched with a sense of loss as they drove away.
As she entered the house she could hear her father and Elizabeth talking very loudly about the Crofts. Nearly all their remarks, as could be expected, were derogative. Elizabeth was complaining about Sophy's choice of attire - probably too sensible for her, Anne thought - and Walter moaned about how old Admiral Croft looked. However they did seem satisfied with the Crofts manners and Sir Walter was in raptures about how Mrs. Croft had promised that they would make some use of the Stone Room. Anne chuckled at that. More likely, Sophy would make it into an office or bedroom.
Elizabeth noticed that Anne was present. "Oh Anne, you'll have to clear out all your rubbish from the attic and where-ever else you hide things. The house must be spotless for when the Crofts take possession. I have organised a cleaning company to come down here later on, and of course the servants will help."
Anne didn't respond. Instead she ran up the stairs and away from her family. She hadn't realized that things were going to be so hard, they hadn't been this painful when she had moved out after finishing university. For a while she wondered about it, then realized that when she was twenty-two she had been filled with excitement at having a place of her own, now all that she had to look forward to was cleaning the house. Coming to the conclusion that weeping wasn't going to get her anywhere - an idea she had been a bit of a hypocrite at times in the past eight years - she cleared out the remaining items from her room.
There wasn't much. When she had moved the first time everything useful had been taken, so only a small box would do for her room. The only things left there were ornaments and childhood toys that her flat simply didn't have room for. She'd have to make room, Anne thought, and the only place in the flat was The Closet. Now Anne was mostly a tidy person but she had a habit of shoving anything that she didn't use into a big closet that had slowly been filling over the last four years. Adding more things to it meant that she would have to organize it and tidy everything up, therefore taking every item out of it and placing it carefully in. Then shutting the door very quickly so that nothing fell out.*
After half an hour everything was cleared out apart from the attic. Anne knew that Elizabeth and Walter never used the attic because they thought it 'excessively dirty' and that she only used it when she needed to put things somewhere so inaccessible that it would require several hours of patience, a torch and a stepladder - the latter item was scarcely found in the Elliot house - to retrieve. As a result the majority of the items there were mementos of her relationship with Frederick. After France she had decided that it simply wasn't healthy for her to wallow in the past, so she had got a very big box, piled all Frederick Wentworth related items into it and headed for the attic of Kellynch Hall. Of course the putting the things in a box was easy, however the forgetting was not.
This was going to be hard. After two years of no Frederick associated paraphernalia she was now going to be bombarded not only with his relatives but his tokens of affection as well. Bracing herself Anne climbed up into the attic. It was dark and dingy - in stark contrast to the rest of the house - and parts of the ceiling had cobwebs dangling from them. Hoping against hope that there were no spiders lurking she grabbed the nearest box labelled "F.W." and scrambled down the ladder again.
The box was a fairly large one of the cardboard variety. The edges of it had lost their definition - something Anne hoped was a result of decay and damp than of anything creepy-crawly related. She knew that she should just pick up the box and take it home, in fact she ordered herself to, but the temptation was too great. She carried the box to her room. Looked at it. Decided that if she was going to break her fragile self-control then it may as well be sooner rather than later. She opened the box.
Inside were dozens of things which Anne had thought that she had forgotten. She caught a glimpse of the tennis ball he had given to her when they had first met. He had remarked that her tennis was so awful that she'd need to practice a lot, and by the state of her serve the balls would be going everywhere so that one was so that she could have slightly more practice time. Now this comment, pre-Frederick, would have intimidated Anne into staying very quiet for the duration of the meeting and then made her avoid him like the plague afterwards. However the glint in Frederick's eye and the smile tugging at the corners of his lips made her feel easy at once and after several more teasing remarks she found herself smiling a happy smile at him for the first time. He had seemed to be in a daze following it and at the time she had thought that she had done something wrong and the smile disappeared from her face, later he had assured her that that was nonsense and that the reason he had lost control of himself was because he was captured by her beauty. Caught in chains, a steel cage and a sealed room, were his words.
The next item was a t-shirt. It was white and rather large for Anne's petite frame, upon turning it over she could see the words "Frederick Wentworth - tennis ace and property of AE" emblazoned with black on it. It had been a mock sign of his affection, one which he said had merited the good-natured thump from Anne afterwards. Still she had kept it. It had been true at one time. He had been hers. This pattern of finding an object and reminiscing went on until there was only one item left. That item was the reason that Anne had not wanted to peruse these items. It was the one thing that was guaranteed to bring her to tears.
The Ring.
Eight years ago
It was the day after Elizabeth's and Frederick's meeting which, in Anne's opinion, couldn't have gone worse if either of them had tried. She had suffered on the way back to Kellynch Hall with Elizabeth criticising Frederick. She hated his clothes, his voice and despised his manners. She wasted no time telling Anne that he was probably some sort of gold-digger. Elizabeth had assured Anne that she had met those sort of men time and time again and they were all losers.
"Now, William Elliot. He is a true gentleman. He has class, an impeccable dress sense, his manners are to die for and -"
Anne cut her off. Elizabeth's bad-mouthing Frederick had frayed her frazzled temper. "And rich Elizabeth?"
Elizabeth seemed taken aback that her sister, her demure sister, would talk back to her. "What?"
"Oh come off it Elizabeth. You wouldn't be so interested in William Elliot if he wasn't so rich. In fact if he was poor you'd probably say that he was a scrounger. That at least Frederick has no claim to. He works really hard and one day he'll be a brilliant, famous and RICH tennis player and all you'll want to do is suck up to him. G** Elizabeth you really are a b-"
"Don't you talk to me like that Anne Elliot. Elliot? You don't even deserve the name! Just because William Elliot is daddy's godson doesn't mean that I treat him any differently because of it. And Ricky Wentworth -"
"Frederick." Anne's voice was hard.
"Ricky," Elizabeth emphasized with practised coldness. "Ricky Wentworth will end up being a good-for nothing scrounger. He's in his mid-twenties right?"
"Twenty-three."
"So if at twenty three he isn't at the top of his game what's he going to be like in a couple of years. I mean look at the world rankings. All of them are under twenty-five."
If Anne had been rational at that moment she would have been surprised at how much her sister knew about tennis. But she wasn't. Instead she defended Frederick. "He has had success. He got into the first round of Wimbledon last year."
"And was defeated. By a tennis player who was more than ten years his senior and was suffering from a calf injury. In straight sets as I recall." Elizabeth's smirk was wide as a result of her gloating.
"How do you know this?"
"I had reports that my easily influenced, innocent younger sister was hanging around with some guy who was brothers with the minister."
"Who from?" Anne was angry still. She wanted to know who had told Elizabeth about her and Frederick. Her sister turned to look out the windscreen at their house which they had apparently stopped at a few minutes ago.
"That, my dear sister, is none of your business. Now get out and look after Mary," Elizabeth's face was upturned in a cruel smile again. "I think she has lots of fun sleep-over things to do. I'm sure that I saw her with hair braiding equipment."
Anne opened the car door and was halfway out when she felt her sister's sharp, manicured nails cut into the skin of her lower arm. "And Anne, if you know what's good for you don't even attempt to tell Mary about your little fling with the loser. She might get ideas. Wouldn't want that now, would we?" Anne could hear the threat in Elizabeth's speech and for once in her life was actually scared of what her sister might do. Not scared for herself of course but for Frederick. Elizabeth had a lot of power in Kellynch and Anne was sure if she dropped some hints about Frederick's unsuitability he could get fired. Even his brother might suffer. Edward Wentworth's bishop was a school-friend of Walter Elliot. Sometimes old school-friends called in favours.
Shaking the memories of last night out of her head (those included hair-braiding and make-overs from her younger sister) she ran to the place where Frederick had told her to meet him last night. It was in the valley of a forest. She wondered why he was taking her here as all their dates had been either on the tennis pitch, at the cinema or in the various restaurants and cafés that Kellynch had to offer. All such thoughts were wiped out of her mind when she heard a loud noise which sounded like Elvis Costello.
She may be the face I can't forget
She may be the beauty or the beast
She, who always seemed so happy in a crowd
She may be the reason I survive
Me, I'll take her laughter and her tears
Suddenly Frederick was there. He was standing in front of her and looking at her with fierce intensity. She attempted to speak but he put his finger over her mouth.
"Sssh, my darling," he whispered. Then he took her into his arms. "Dance with me." The song must have been on repeat but Anne didn't notice. All she could feel, all she knew was Frederick. He wasn't the world, heck he wasn't even the universe. He was something more. Something which had coursed through her body since the moment she met him. Love. He made up for the love she had lost when her mother died, made up for the love she had never gotten from her father or Elizabeth, in truth he was everything to her. Rapidly losing control as she looked up into his deep brown eyes she couldn't move. Neither could he. Both were stopped by this invisible force which drew them together.
Frederick managed to break away from the force. Taking Anne's hand he guided her towards a blanket which was spread across the grass. The music was still playing. They sat down in mutual silence. Still the music played. It seemed to capture all that they felt for each other, there was no need for words. Not breaking eye contact Frederick reached for something in the picnic box beside him. Anne looked. He drew out a small package and opened it.
The world stopped moving for several moments. All Anne could do was stare in disbelief and utter happiness at the contents of the box. It was a ring, a beautiful ring. It fit perfectly too when Frederick withdrew it from the case and carefully put it onto the third finger of her left hand. Anne's gaze moved from the ring to his face. His lips were trembling and his eyes uncertain. She looked down again. Watched as her hand was drawn up to his lips and lightly kissed. She felt a tear prick in the corner of her right eye.
"Marry me."
Those two words were the happiest two words in the English language. Anne could feel the bliss bubbling and fizzing inside of her. She attempted to smile but she was still too much in shock. He began to remove his hand from hers where it had landed after he had kissed her palm. Disappointment was etched in the lines of his face. She thought she saw a tear emerge from one eye. She found her voice and spoke.
"Yes."
Eight years later, present time
Eight years on Anne could still feel the happiness that had emerged from them both after they had gotten engaged. The moments after she accepted him were full of kisses and laughter, of proclamations of love and undying devotion. She was a liar.
One month later, Uppercross Cottage
Anne was staying with her younger sister Mary, her husband Charles and their sons Charles Junior (or, as his father and aunts referred to him as, CJ) who was four and Walter who was barely two. The reason for her visit was that Mary was feeling unwell and had summoned Anne to look after both her and her children. Anne had been playing trains with the boys and Mary lying up on the sofa when there had been a knock at the door. The former went to answer it while the latter declared that if it was either Louisa or Henrietta that they should be told that she was excessively fatigued but would not resent their company. Anne smiled to herself. Mary was no more fatigued than she was, probably less so.
She opened the door and was pleasantly surprised to find that their callers were not the Musgrove sisters but in fact the Crofts.
"Oh Anne, we were instructed that we should find you here!" That was Sophy Croft's greeting as she shook hands with Anne. "It has been too long since we saw each other. I hope that you did not suffer a concussion from George's blindness." Anne could tell that Sophy was sincere. It was too rare a time that anyone was sincere to Anne in her family circle that she could tell when people were genuine. The Crofts were and Anne liked them all the more for it.
"I assure you Sophy I did not suffer. Merely a bruised ego. Please come in."
Mary, upon hearing that she had new company, had jumped off the sofa, tidied her sons' toys (or more accurately shoved them into a nearby cupboard) and was now standing up with a smile on her face.
"Anne, please introduce me to your friends. I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting one another."
"Mary these are Admiral George Croft and his wife Sophy," Anne's voice warned Mary not to comment too much about Kellynch Hall and how much of a deprivation it was that it should be in the hands of strangers. She may have married but her loyalty was still with the Elliots.
Mary took no heed of Anne's warning, "Oh my father's tenants. It is such a shame that he had to let the place. Such tragedy!"
Anne interrupted. "Sophy, George, this is my younger sister Mary Musgrove and her two sons Charles Junior and Walter."
"Very pleased to meet you Mrs. Musgrove." The Admiral had seemed not to notice the slight and went on to talk to the children. Sophy however had. Anne could tell that the smile she was wearing was slightly forced, Anne had worn a similar one many times before.
"Now. Would anyone care for some tea and cake. I don't give it to the boys but their Grandmother does. It spoils them rotten and is exceedingly bad for them."
"Indeed Mrs. Musgrove. I would certainly partake in a cup of tea."
"Good Admiral. Anne the cake I bought yesterday is in the cupboard beside the fridge."
Anne took the hint. A cup of tea and several pieces of cake later Anne found herself seated by Sophy. Mary was listening to Admiral Croft tell stories to the boys about his sea-travels. Unless Anne was mistaken, there seemed to be a smile on Mary's face. She did love her children and consequently liked anyone that was nice to them and kept them occupied for a few minutes.
"Anne," Mrs. Croft started, "I recently phoned to my brother and told him about our luck in finding a place such as Kellynch Hall to live in. He inquired after you. I believe that you were acquainted with him?" Anne nodded. "He has ordered me to give you his best wishes. Also, to convey the news that he is happily married something he says will seem most unlikely to yourself."
Anne had been suffering severe emotional distress upon realizing that Sophy knew about herself and Frederick. Now that distress was taken over by a feeling that was much, much worse. Agony, with a large tinge of despair thrown in for good measure.
"Tell him ... Tell him that I wish him a lot of happiness and that I did believe that he would get married. He deserves it." The thought that Frederick believed that she imagined him unable to form an attachment after her was painful, she was determined to right it. She always knew someone as wonderful and brilliant as he was would make some other woman fall in love with him. He had fallen in love too. It hurt knowing that he loved someone other than her but she understood. She had understood from France. The way he had flirted with Emma was enough for her to ascertain his feelings.
"I will. Another thing he deserved was a better parish."
"Parish?"
"Yes, Edward was long hoping for somewhere where he could do more good and pour oil on troubled waters."
The relief Anne felt was enormous. Edward not Frederick. Of course Sophy would know that she would be acquainted with Edward. He had been the minister of the church in Kellynch after all. She was also happy with the knowledge that Sophy did not know about her relationship with Frederick. She imagined Frederick's sister to be very loyal to her family and Anne didn't want her to find out about the end of the relationship with Sophy's brother. She was certain that Sophy would feel bitter towards Anne and they would not be friends. However the relief that Anne had felt upon hearing that it was Edward who had married and not Frederick was soon blown away.
"Frederick, my other brother, is coming to stay next week."
*I know that this might have some similarities to Monica's closet in Friends but this was unintentional.
**The song "She" was sung by Elvis Costello. It was written by Charles Aznavour and Herbert Kretzmer. It's not mine.
Part Four
Posted on Tuesday, 23 August 2005
It had been six days, twelve hours and twenty-four minutes (approximately) since Sophy Croft had revealed that Frederick would be coming to stay. In that time Anne had driven herself into a state of panic. What would he say? Would he recognize her? Would he still hate her? Deciding that all these questions were very bad for her mental health Anne attempted to shrug them off. She was still engaged in this pursuit when Charles Musgrove burst into the sitting room followed by his two oldest sisters.
"Anne! There you are. Is Mary in?" Charles spoke hurriedly and his face seemed flushed in the dim light that the corner lamp afforded. Anne put down the book that she had not been reading and stood.
"I am afraid that Mary had to go to bed. She was feeling very tired and unwell." Charles made a 'humph' sound in the back of his throat. Louisa and Henrietta stifled smiles of amusement at their brother and his wife.
"Well she will have to make do with not being the first to know something!" Charles sat down in the armchair by the fire and his sisters joined Anne on the sofa. "Frederick Wentworth visited our house with the Crofts earlier today. When they left he chose to stay and," with a sly glance at Henrietta and Louisa, "enjoy the pleasant company."
Anne's heart stopped for a while. He was here. He had been within a mile of her and she had not known!
"And mum and dad invited him for dinner tomorrow night and he accepted! So you better get your glad-rags on Anne, because we're all going to be there."
Anne did the best she could to not let the horrified feeling that she felt be shown on her face, but she was certain that she was pale from terror. Charles and his sisters spoke some more. Anne was aware of a large amount of giggling from the females but could not focus on the conversation. Tomorrow night she would see him again and she would know his true feelings towards her. That was not something that she looked forward to for there could scarcely be anything there but negative emotions.
Despite her fragile state of mind Anne had enough awareness to realize that the conversation had stopped. When she looked around her she saw that the Musgroves were gazing at her with concern.
"Anne? Anne, are you okay?"
"Yes Louisa I am fine." Anne decided to change the subject. "How's university going?"
"Oh its great. Much more fun than I thought it would be. Imagine that sports psychology could actually be fun!" Anne smiled weakly. The Musgrove girls were still in university, Louisa in her second year of sports psychology and Henrietta her first in Biology. She listened to their chat with as much enthusiasm and concentration that she could muster having just found out that she was going to be at the same dinner as her ex-fiancé. The strain must have shown on her face because she heard Henrietta and Louisa announcing that they were leaving for the night but that they would look forward to seeing Anne tomorrow night.
That night Anne found it hard to sleep and she did not attempt to deny the reason to herself. It was because she would meet Frederick again for the first face-to-face meeting in eight years. Anne tried to read but found that even her favourite novel could not hold her attention, she watched the television and found that not even the snooker could get her to sleep: all that seemed to do was remind her of other sports like tennis, and therefore Frederick Wentworth. Of course the report on him and his potential success at Wimbledon didn't help either. She wondered what was going through his mind about that. He had won the US Open, the French Open and countless other tournaments however he had never had success at Wimbledon. She knew that many were doubting his ability to win there. There were whispers of a curse on British players at Wimbledon. Frederick had always wanted to win Wimbledon. She remembered him telling her about his first round match and what it was like to play on the hallowed courts there. Magic, that's what he had described it as. She wished him all the best.
That was her last thought as she fell asleep.
The next morning Anne was woken by her nephews bounding into her room and jumping on top of her. She groaned and opened her eyes. CJ and Walter were looking at her with smiles on their faces. They were still in their pyjamas.
"CJ where's your mummy?"
"Asleep Auntie Anne."
"And your father?"
"He went out. Told us to be good boys and we were." The guilty smile gave him away though. "Mostly."
Anne grimaced at the thought of the mess that the boys would have created in their rooms. No doubt she would be the one to clear it up. She could not see Mary doing it and Charles would be run off his feet when he came home from work. Honestly, Anne loved her nephews but sometimes she believed that the only reason she was at Uppercross Cottage was so that she could be a free nanny. And a maid at times.
Without bothering to change out of her pyjamas she lifted the boys down to the floor. She glanced at the clock. It was ten.
"CJ did you have breakfast before daddy went to work?" The boy shook his head and Anne sighed. Another job for her. Soon they were downstairs and the boys were changed into their daytime clothes. Anne was still in her pyjamas and her hair wasn't brushed. Mary came downstairs at mid-day and the first thing she commented on was Anne's appearance.
"Anne! Look at your hair, it's a complete mess. And your clothes! Thank goodness that Louisa and Henrietta didn't see you. You'd let down the House of Elliot."
Although Mary's voice did not hold the same venom and deliberateness that Elizabeth's did when she criticised Anne, the words still hurt. Anne decided that talking back wasn't going to help she told Mary what still needed to be done with the boys.
"Their lunch is made-up in the kitchen and the toys are in that box over there. I did the hoovering this morning and the dusting so you don't have to worry about that." Mary didn't give her sister a word of thanks, instead she responded with an answer that surprised Anne immensely.
"Well that's less work for you to do later."
"Pardon?" Anne was actually stunned.
"Well, I have to go into town to by a new dress for tonight's dinner party. It is of vital importance." Mary didn't see the pain she was unintentionally causing her sister.
"Mary, I thought that you were going to look after Charles and Walter today."
"No. Quite the reverse actually. You are to do it."
That got on Anne's last nerve and she let as much of her rage go as she could. "Mary I have had five hours sleep. I fed your sons and cleaned your house. For heaven's sake its the afternoon and I'm still in my pyjamas!"
Mary seemed momentarily taken aback that her sister would answer back to her. However she soon rallied again and put on her most unconcerned face that she possessed. "Really Anne. It's not even important for you to look good tonight. After all you're nothing to Frederick Wentworth. I'm Charles' wife. And also he is a man used to beautiful women in beautiful dresses from Gucci or Versace. I must make an impression. Louisa and Henrietta will be trying to as well, mark my words."
Anne felt the sting of tears in her eyes and nodded in compliance with Mary's words. She needed to get out of the room, it was closing in around her and all she could hear was the yelling of the boys and Mary's shrieking. She ran up the stairs and to her room. Anne didn't care what Mary said about her behaviour or what questions would be asked later. All she knew was that she felt like she was nothing. That all she was needed for was as a servant for her family. No one would miss her if she went except Susan. But Susan was in Antigua at the minute and Anne couldn't reach her. This was the one time that she really needed her best friend. Who was there? Frederick would have helped her in the past. He had done, if she remembered correctly.
Eight years earlier
Anne had been so caught up in her own thoughts about the cruel words of her sister that she wasn't paying attention to what was happening around her. Elizabeth had been speaking about their mother and how she had not been very fashionable enough for the Elliots. Anne, whose mother's death had affected her deeply at sixteen, had lapsed into a fit of melancholy and had fled the house to get fresh air and solitude. She heard someone calling her. She glanced up.
It was Frederick.
She had met Frederick Wentworth when she had called round to Reverend Edward Wentworth's house two weeks. Edward had not been there but Frederick was just about to go out training so when she had knocked on the door he had let her in and assured her that his brother would be back soon. There had been sparks on either side when he had accidentally touched her hand and when their eyes met it was as if they had never seen another person before. They had just got through the introductions when the opening of the front door had alerted them to Edward's presence. As soon as Edward was settled Frederick had reluctantly left but took one last long look at her.
They had been on three dates since then. Well two officially but the last meeting had been a tennis lesson with only the two of them. He had given her a tennis ball and joked at her inability to serve. When she was with him she forgot that she was the unwanted daughter of Sir Walter and that since her mother died the only love she got was from Lady Russell. With him she was just Anne. Not Anne Elliot, just Anne.
"Anne! Anne!" Frederick's worried face popped into her sight. "Anne are you all right? I've been calling you for about five minutes."
She smiled as best she could. "I'm fine Frederick. Just a little pre-occupied that's all."
For a moment it looked like he was going to accept her answer but then he put his arm around her back and led her over to a bench which was slightly hidden from the path. "Anne, you've been crying. What's the matter?"
She sniffed and wiped her eyes on the back of her coat sleeve, no doubt making them redder than they already were. Frederick looked at her. Stared into her eyes. The silent persuasion in them made her speak. He would understand. She knew he would.
"It's my mum. She died three years ago in a car crash. The other driver was drunk you see and," she had to stop as she let a sob escape but continued soon after, "and she died instantly. She suffered massive head trauma." Frederick pulled her closer to him in a gesture of comfort. "I was only sixteen at the time. Mary was only fourteen. We'd lost our mother. And dad wasn't even there." She paused, uncertain if she should reveal the secret to Frederick. "He was in California. With his ... his..." her throat was racked with tears, "his mistress. While my mother was dying he was busy with another woman." Frederick squeezed her gently.
"Sssh. It's okay. I know what it's like. Both my parents died when I was little. Didn't really know them and I can't remember them. That hurts like h***. At least you have vivid memories of your mother. All I have are photos."
"I didn't know. I'm sorry for bringing it up."
"Nonsense."
"You see, after mum's death Lady Russell was the one person I could turn to. She gave me support. Sometimes it got too much though and I'd get depressed, still do actually. One day when I was seventeen, Susan brought it up. She took me to the doctor who put me on anti-depressants." She glanced at Frederick expecting the same revulsion that she had experienced at the hands of her father and Elizabeth. There was no disgust about it, only pity.
"Do you still take them?"
"Sometimes. Not that often these days but..."
Then Frederick did something totally unexpected. He leaned forward and bent his head. Anne was too dazed to fully comprehend what was going to happen.
He kissed her. Their First kiss. Her First kiss. Ever. And with Frederick.
And at that moment in time, life was perfect.
Eight years later, present time
Anne suddenly realized who she could phone. She hadn't been in contact with him in several months but he was still one of the best friends that she had had. They had met at university when he was in his third year of law and she in her second of English Literature.
Will Darcy.
She scrambled around to find her bag and the address book that was in it. Taking it out she reached for her mobile. No messages as usual. Anne sat on the bed and dialled Will's number. Hoping that he hadn't changed his mobile in the last three months she waited for someone to answer. Within four rings someone did.
"Hello?" The voice was as crisp as ever.
"Four rings Will? You're getting lazy. Time was you would have picked up in two." She could hear the smile in her voice.
"Anne? Is that you? Anne Elliot?"
"Yeah. Listen Will, are you busy at the minute."
"No, Charles and I are going to some party but that can be delayed."
"Oh Will, don't do that because of me. I wouldn't want you to miss out on my account."
"Rubbish. Now what did you want to talk about?"
She filled him in on her feeling of loneliness and what her sister had been like. She didn't want to tell Will about her father's near bankruptcy but undoubtedly he knew about it, because Will being Will had always had a stack of newspapers handy. So she told him everything. Well, nearly everything. Except Frederick. Will had never known of their relationship but when she had come back to Oxford after the Christmas holidays he knew that something was wrong with his friend. However he hadn't pushed and Anne had been grateful for that. Once she had talked as much as she could about her life she asked him about his.
"Anything interesting?"
"No. Charles has fallen in love. Again. That's the seventh one in six months. We're in some little backwater place called Meryton. Bingley decided that he would rent a house there. And guess who's here too?"
"Hmm..." Anne pretended to be ignorant. "Is it Caroline?"
"Got it. Honestly, she's too much sometimes."
"No-one else worth your notice then?"
"Well there's Lizzy," he cleared his throat. "Elizabeth Bennet, she's the sister of Charles' love. One of them actually."
"How many are there?"
"Five girls."
Anne shuddered. "I wouldn't like that! Imagine me and four Elizabeth Elliots. Gives me shivers just thinking about it. So anyway, who's Elizabeth? Apart from her family."
"She's at university studying law."
"Which one?"
"Cambridge."
"Old rivalries eh Will?"
"Yeah, we were talking about the boat race and I happened to mention that I was on one of the winning Oxford teams. That didn't go down well."
Anne laughed. Then she heard Mary calling for her. Regretfully she told Will that she had to leave because Mary was going shopping.
"Well I hope to hear from you soon Anne. Bye."
"Bye Will."
She put the phone down and headed to the lounge.
Several hours later
Anne had been instructed by Mary to go up and get changed. She had exactly thirty-four minutes in which to do so and if she was not ready Mary had threatened Anne with being left. Anne was just drying her hair and putting the final touches on her outfit when she heard a scream. It was one that would curdle the blood. And it sounded like Mary. Quickly she ran down the stairs nearly tripping over Charles' shoes which were lying at the bottom of them. As she scrambled outside she saw Mary carrying a small figure. It was CJ.
"Anne! Oh Anne! Charles has ... Charles Junior has had a fall. He fell. Oh he'll die!" This cry of panic from Mary did not help her little boy but instead he burst into a fresh set of tears. Anne ran back inside and phoned for an ambulance. Charles would be incapable to drive as he had had a few beers that day, and Mary was in hysterics. Anne would be required to calm Mary and CJ.
It took ten minutes for the ambulance to arrive. The paramedics examined CJ and told Mary and Charles that they didn't think that it was serious. Just a broken arm. Upon hearing this Charles declared that he would be going to the dinner party after all if all CJ needed was a plaster cast. Mary, who had been distraught earlier on, declared that if Charles would go to the dinner then so would she. The paramedics asked who would accompany CJ to the hospital. Charles and Mary were still arguing and from the way the paramedics were looking at them if they weren't careful social services would be visiting them very soon. Anne replied that she would go for which she received grateful looks from both the parents.
"Thanks Anne. Maria can look after Walter as planned." Maria was the baby-sitter.
"Okay. Have a nice time. I'll phone you when we get home. Bye." Neither of them answered her so she turned and got into the ambulance. She looked away in shame from the female paramedic's gaze.
It was midnight before they arrived back from the hospital in a taxi which smelled like it had had better days. CJ was curled up in her arms and it was with great difficulty that she opened the front door. He was too heavy for Anne to lift on her own up the stairs so she left him on the large sofa in the living room. Then she went to get his Spiderman duvet cover and after taking off his shoes and jacket he was cuddled up fast asleep. Anne changed into her own pyjamas - a t-shirt and shorts, got her own duvet and lay down in the opposite sofa. She was tired but couldn't sleep. After CJ had fallen asleep she had phoned Mary. The latter had sounded very unconcerned and slightly drunk. Anne was ashamed of her sister for the second time in a few hours.
Anne had been woken by Maria and Walter. Maria had stayed the previous night and was now trying to feed a squirming Walter his breakfast. With little success. Anne told Maria to get home and the baby-sitter gratefully accepted the money. A few minutes later Mary emerged and from the look on her face had quite the hangover. She soon got the croissants out and began eating.
"Honestly Anne I don't know how Charles does it! He had as much to drink as I did last night and as little sleep. Now he's gone out to meet Frederick. Frederick is ever so nice. Such a gentleman. He complemented me especially about my dress. Didn't you say that you knew him? Well I mentioned it to him and he asked about you. Nothing specifically, just your health."
Anne smiled slightly. Then they heard a car outside. Mary looked at the door expectantly. It was Charles. His face was slightly flushed but apart from that he looked perfectly normal, almost as if last night hadn't happened.
"Frederick's coming to see you. To see how CJ's doing. Louisa and Henrietta are here too. They're all just getting out of the car. How's CJ?"
The latter was awake and was able to answer his father. Anne couldn't have. Her heart was lurching. Her mind thinking a thousand things at once. This couldn't be happening. It really couldn't.
She was about to meet Frederick Wentworth for the first time in eight years and she was wearing her pyjamas. And not just any pyjamas. Butter and egg stained ones from attempting to feed Walter some breakfast. She was only thankful of one thing. Her shorts showed a lot of her legs and Anne was eternally grateful that she had shaved them last night. Hairy legs would have been the final straw. She heard footsteps in the hall. Heard people talking. Looked at Mary who was dressed immaculately. Henrietta and Louisa came in. They too were dressed perfectly.
Then she saw Frederick.
Author's note: For those who don't know, the English Universities Oxford and Cambridge have a boat race every year. This is quite a big event and is broadcast on national television. There is quite a bit of rivalry between the two (supposedly) as they are basically the best universities in the UK.
The trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
She may be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a Heaven or Hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
A smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell....
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No-one's allowed to see them when they cry
She may be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows in the past
That I remember 'till the day I die
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I care for through the rough and ready years
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is
She**
© 2005 Copyright held by the author.