The Alec and Janet story
Coming home
The carriage rustled down the dry dirt road, the black horses gleaming in the hot summer sun. Fifteen-year-old Janet Ward leaned out through the open window, allowing the wind to take hold of her dark-blonde hair. She took a deep breath, inhaled the sweet smell of sea and waving grain fields. Her heart filled with happiness. They had been gone for four years and though she had enjoyed seeing other parts of the country and living in Quebec and New Brunswick, she had missed her dear old island terribly.
"Stop that girl, you're making a fool of yourself!"
With a firm grip on her arm, her father pulled her in and Janet fell back against the hard cushions. "When will you ever learn to behave?" he blurted, his red face telling her that he was upset with her.
Not again, she thought to herself.
Whatever she did, she always seemed to make her father angry or distressed. It was not as if she was doing it on purpose. She tried to behave – she really did, but there was just something in her nature that made it impossible to live after her father's strict Presbyterian rules. How many times had her mother and father not told her to "always be composed and never to show her inner feelings" without her managing to do so? There was no telling why, but Janet Ward was not like the rest of the family. She was a happy, carefree and passionate girl. Some even called her flighty.
"Sorry father", replied Janet with a smile. "I am just so happy to be back".
Her mother gave her a stern look. "Happiness is no reason for making a fool of oneself Janet Ward. You must remember that you no longer are a little girl. Besides, as the oldest it is your responsibility to be a role model to your sister".
"Oh mother, she can never be a role model to me", said thirteen-year-old Abigail with a smirk. "She doesn't know anything about etiquette and decorum or how to take care of a home. The only thing she is reasonably good at is baking bread".
"That is not true!" Janet protested. "I do know how to take care of a home. I can cook and I can clean. Can't I, mother?"
Catherine Ward leaned forward and pressed her daughter's hand. "Yes you can dear, but perhaps not with Abigail's exquisite finesse".
"I just don't find it necessary for a house to be perfectly clean or for glassware to sparkle like the queen's diamonds. To me, that is a waste of time".
"And that is the reason for why you will never find a husband", Abigail concluded. "For you see, the ability to manage a household with perfection is what a man values most in a woman".
Janet rolled her eyes. Sometimes it was hard to believe that the same blood ran through her and Abigail's veins. They were as different as night and day. Abigail had always been the perfect child, so well-behaved, tidy and obedient. She always looked flawless. But she was boring. Terribly boring! Besides their parents, they had nothing in common.
Janet turned away from her sister to admire Prince Edward Island's yellow fields. It would soon be autumn and the harvest was not far away. Even though she was a Minister's daughter and had never lived at a farm, there was something about the great fields that she found absolutely fascinating. She didn't know exactly what it was, but of one thing she was certain – there was nothing more beautiful than a waving field filled with people´s hopes and dreams. She sighed happily, overjoyed about finally being home.
For as long as one could remember there had been Wards in Avonlea. Some had stayed, others had left. Some had moved to other provinces and some had even gone back to old England and Europe. When being young, Janet's Aunt Elizabeth had left Canada for England and stayed there for several years. It had been intended as a social visit to the relatives who had stayed in England and done very well for themselves, but while being she had met a man who she had loved and lost. Whilst no one had been surprised that Eliza in her youth had left the island, the villagers of Avonlea had been more than surprised when the Minister Ward had decided to leave the parish after serving it for twenty five years.
"I am not sad to see the Wards go", had Janet heard the proud and persnickety Hetty King say after Janet's father had announced his decision in church. "But I'll tell you, they will be back within a fortnight".
But they hadn't and when the carriage passed the King farm Janet found herself filled with gloating happiness. There was nothing more fulfilling than proving a King wrong. They thought themselves above everybody, as if they were actual kings and not farmers.
As the carriage approached the village, Janet could hear her heart beating.
"Oh, I'm so excited!" she exclaimed.
"I'm not", said her mother. "Look, a welcome-committee".
Janet stuck her head out and looked down the road. A group of women had gathered in front of the general store. She immediately recognized Marilla Cuthbert and the imposing Rachel Lynde.
They look exactly the same, she thought happily. Everything looks exactly the same.
Her mother however, was not as happy. One of the reasons for why they had returned to Avonlea was Catherine Ward's inability to handle the Presbyterian Church women which they had encountered in the four different places where they had lived during the time they had been away. The women had been terribly judgmental and over-bearing and Catherine had done everything in her power to please them, but one day she had just broken down, unable to even get out of bed.
"The vapors", the doctor had concluded. The illness had required complete bed-rest and for four months Catherine had been bedridden. She was better now, even though she was still very weak. One look at her and one could tell that she was not a healthy woman. She was awfully pale and very thin.
"You'll be alright dear", her husband said, placing a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. "You know these women. They are no strangers to you".
Catherine nodded, bracing herself as the coach slowed down and stopped.
Janet slammed the door opened and jumped down, too excited to care about how it made her look. "Dear old Avonlea! I can't believe that I'm here!"
"Pray excuse my daughter", the Minister said as he stepped out. He helped his wife and youngest daughter down and then turned forwards the women. "How nice it is to see you again ladies!"
"Welcome home Reverend", Rachel Lynde said and pressed his hand in a firm handshake. "We have surely missed you, mrs Ward".
"Th… thank you mrs Lynde", Catherine stammered.
Janet, who found no interest whatsoever in chatting with the old middle-aged women, turned her attention elsewhere and caught a glimpse of two of her old school friends hiding behind a tree. Without hesitating, she picked up her skirt and strutted over to them.
"Clara Beadle and Mildred Johnson, aren't you two too old to be hiding behind trees?"
"Well Janet Ward", replied Clara with pretended surprise in her voice. "What a surprise! You have certainly grown up. I barely recognized you".
"We all change".
Clara Potts was, at age 18, just as plump as Janet remembered her. She was surprised to find Clara shorter than herself and amazed over the fact that even though they had only been gone for four years, Clara had grown into a young woman and that she herself would soon be one.
"How have you been?" asked Mildred. "We've missed you".
Janet smiled. "I've missed you too. And I've missed Avonlea. I've seen several places while we've been away, but nothing that can compare to Avonlea".
"Oh Janet, you can't be serious", Clara Beadle laughed. "I would do anything to get of this island".
"Then why, Clara Beadle, do you want to marry Alec King?"
Janet raised her eyebrows, looked at her friend in complete astonishment. "Yes Clara, why on earth would you like to marry Alec King?"
"He is not at all like he was when you left Janet", Clara replied. "He has grown out of his childish ways and he is very handsome".
Janet snorted. "I can't believe that".
She had never been fond of Alec King. She had never been fond of any of the Kings, for that matter. Ruth was alright and little Olivia she did not know, but Miss Hetty King, Alec and Roger were all unbearable. A year before leaving Avonlea Hetty King had been elected the new teacher and during the year which she had taught, she had managed to make Janet feel like an idiot more times than she could count. Alec King was five years her senior and she had never really talked to him, but when she thought of him – she thought of a dark-haired boy who always wore a dunce-cap, rallied around with a loud group of boys and had hit her with a snow ball right in the face. And Roger, he was just plain strange with his odd obsession for stones. But the first thing was, the Kings all regarded themselves as so high and mighty.
"I wish you two all the happiness", Janet said. "Now tell me, what else is new?"
Clara and Mildred looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. "The Lind's sold the General Store to the Lawson's two years ago. Besides that, nothing special has happened".
Janet smiled. "Good old Avonlea.