a/n: written for the hidden past and present competition by Alarice Tey on HPFC where you had to pick a character and write about 'relatives' of theirs - I wrote about Lily and Petunia's aunt, Ruth.
disclaimer: do I look like Jo Rowling to you? (I have a feeling I've used that before. Oh well. It takes a surprising amount of effort to come up with creative ways to say that you don't own Harry Potter.)
Their name was the only thing they shared, the Fisher sisters.
Ellen, vivacious, curvy, classy; Ruth, her curtain of black hair, rebellious, contrary; Sally, petite, blonde and doe-eyed and full to the brim with exuberance and wit.
One moved away with a man and lived in a big house; one ran their family bakery on East Street; one was a teacher, then a housewife.
The eldest married but not for love; the middle one loved but never married and the youngest loved and married too.
.
(Ruth)
Ruth Fisher sits on the bed in her room with a view and stares at what she's made. It's a cream cable knit jumper, but her hands shake and it's July and let's face it: she's not going to get to see Christmas 1978, is she?
She already missed the wedding.
Apparently the bride looked beautiful, but for all her refusals to have her sister as a bridesmaid, she was outshone anyway. By all accounts Lily glowed with the love of the boy next to her whereas Petunia - well, she occasionally flickered.
.
(4th April, 1943)
His name's Billy, and he has a crooked grin and square shoulders and a curly mop of brown hair on his head.
The two of you lie back on the dry grass in the first summer sunshine of the year - April, it is - and you gaze up at the clouds, your hand grazing his.
You're fifteen and entirely too young to understand but somehow you know and you know you're in love.
.
(Sally)
Sally Fisher - Evans, now - watches from the doorway of her youngest daughter's room.
Anne, her niece, is in the bed with her daughter, Ellie; Lily and James, and Will, her godson, kip on the floor under a mix of blankets and sleeping bags. Lily snuggles down, complaining about the cold, and James reminds her that it's summer, Evans and she retaliates by resting her toes on his leg for a moment. He yelps and she laughs and Ellie laughs because she loves Lily, and who doesn't love Lily?
Sally clears her throat and says goodnight and closes the door. She heads to her room and her bed, the bed she shared with her Robert, and she closes her eyes because watching James and Lily is too painful.
She sinks to the edge of the mattress and has to try and remember to breathe.
.
(15th August, 1943)
He comes to the bakery one day and buys a loaf of doorstop white, laying his beige coupons out on the counter. You smile at him, looking up at the next customer and asking them what they'd like, just hoping that he's here for you.
What're you smiling at, Ruth? Ellen asks, and nothing, you say.
Sally notices though, little scamp of six that she is, and stores it away. She notices the bracelet of ribbons around Ellen's wrist and the way Billy's fingers brush hers as Ellen hands him the bread, and she stores that away too.
.
(Ellen)
Ellen Fisher - Adams, now - drives down the road to Cokeworth Comprehensive, on her way to pick up her step-daughter, perfect and saint-like as she's learned to be. Only, behind closed doors she neglects to notice that the girl is struggling under her father's expectations and she can't quite see past the little brown-haired child that clutches his sister's hand because he reminds her too much of another boy.
Marie gets in the car and belts up - clunk, click, every trip - and Ellen asks about her day and receives silence in response. She puts the car in gear and pulls away.
They get a little while down the road before Marie, fiddling with her hair bobble, says how do you know when you love someone?
And Ellen says you're a little young to be in love, aren't you?
And Marie's indignant: no, I'm seventeen. Forget it.
They're nearly home when Ellen stops the car in a layby and says you know, you just know. It's perfect, and everything feels right.
Marie thinks on this for a while as they drive to their big house and she gets out the car and she turns to her step-mother and she looks her right in the eye and it's not like that with Dad, is it?
Ellen finds that she can't quite answer.
.
(26th September, 1943)
You see him again in the village the next week walking out of Johnny Robins' corner shop and on his way out he stops, looking back. You cross the road, about to tease you forget your ration book again? when you see him reach out his hand and roll his eyes good-naturedly, tugging her along.
Ellen falls into him and you stare, wide-eyed and they laugh and laugh and your heart shatters and your face burns and you cross the road with your head bowed and you didn't realise it was actually truly possible to hate someone but you do.
You hate her, with her perfect-set hair in the rags you rolled, her worn dolly flats and the pink ribbons on her wrist; you hate her.
.
(1st November, 1943)
You hear his mother running out onto the street with sorrow in her eyes and she says no no no and you can't and he shakes her off and walks stiffly to the end of the road and disappears over the horizon.
You see, they all got called up in the end.
.
(Ruth, again)
Ruth Fisher sits on the bed in her room with a view and stares at what she's made.
It's supposed to be a cream cable knit jumper, but her eyes water and she's just too old and let's face it: she's not going to get her happily ever after, is she?
She'll send it on to Lily and maybe it'll look nice on her, and when she wears it she might remember her Auntie Ruth.
.
(3rd February, 1944)
You dread the day arriving with a heavy heart. Grey, it is: grey and bleak and the sky rumbles and the heavens rain and you cry your tears together, Ellen's in public, yours in private; you were nothing to him and had nothing with him, so why are you crying, lass?
They all died, all of them; even the ones who came back.
And Sally, she's too young to understand but she feels the grief that settles over the house and it weighs on her heart.
That night she crawls into your bed and holds your hand and her tiny fingers stroke your hair and she sing-song whispers darling, darling, like she's heard Mother do a thousand times. She comforts you because she notices and she cries because you're sad.
That just makes you cry more.
.
(Finally, Ruth)
Ruth Fisher sits on the bed in her room with a view and puts her head in her hands.
She thinks it might be a curse, or something - what have they done? They loved and lost, all of them: Ellen, she'd lost her Billy, and Sally, she'd lost her Robert, Ruth - well, she lost her sister and her Billy, all in one glance.
The wool is soft against her gnarled fingers and it reminds her.
She'll send it on to Lily. It might look nice on her.
.
(31st October, 1981)
James always said Lily looked lovely in it, and she catches his grin as he passes her their son, a grin that promises she'll have no need for it later.
That night, though, another curse rings through the house, and Lily - well, Lily loses her James.
a/n: I tried to make it less confusing than before. Hopefully that worked. Review?:))