Where Rainbows Ended
A/N: Based on the conversation Anna had with John in S5 CS about her backstory. I know the entire fandom seems to have been pretending Anna's childhood didn't happen, but I'm intrigued about the relationship Anna had with her sister. This fic explores it a little- I know RealForUs is planning to do a much longer one focussing on them growing up together- and is set the Christmas before Anna's father died. I'm not entirely happy with it- see what you think.
In later years, Anna was always to remember it as one of the happiest days of her life; a brief interlude of sunshine, the last glimmer of light before darkness finally fell, the last bright blaze of a fire before it was stamped out.
It was not a white Christmas- Christmases rarely are. Still, a hush had fallen over the city. Gone was the constant stream of smoke that belched out from the factory chimneys. The streets, on every other day filled with the ceaseless, incessant bustle of men and women headed out to work, were utterly deserted.
"An angel's passing by," said Flora, draping an arm around Anna as she joined her at her vantage point by the window.
Anna's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Yes. Don't you remember? It's that time of year again when the angel decides to take a stroll around Manchester, right here where we live."
"Why would the angel want to visit us?"
"Oh, the angel goes everywhere." Flora looked out into the distance, as if she could see something more than rows and rows of grimy tenement blocks. "It goes to the countryside, where granny and grandpa live, and to the seaside, where we went this summer and—," stretching her imagination, "yes, even to the other side of the world, to places like Aus-Australia and America. Then, just when the year's almost over, it remembers that we're here, so it flies all the way back to see us."
"The angel never forgets, does it, Flora?"
"No, silly. Angels never forget. They're not like you and me. Every year, around the time when it looks like hope's starting to fade away—," her face darkened, and a fire Anna had often seen before entered her eyes, "and the workers are trudging off to get their shilling a week to feed their families on, along comes the angel to close down all the mills for a day, no more, no less."
"Why no more? Is that why you and mummy and daddy are never at home?" Anna knew that they all worked in the Mill, that tall, bleak, scary building at the end of the road. Daddy was always talking about all the hazards- small children losing fingers when they ran underneath the machinery, people being killed when they were pulled up into the drum, other things too awful for her to understand- and how nobody cared a whit about the workers' rights, how he and the unions were pushing for reforms but the managers never listened. If it was so bad, why didn't they just stop going there? She would never have to worry about any of it, Flora had repeatedly assured her. The world was open to her. She could become a schoolmistress or live on a farm or take care of one of the boarding houses by the sea like the one they'd stayed in. What made it any different for them?
"Yes. Yes it is. The angel doesn't come often enough," answered Flora, but her storytelling voice- the one she used when she read 'Beauty and the Beast' to Anna at bedtimes- was gone, replaced with something angry and bitter and intangible.
"I wish it did." Anna snuggled closer to Flora. Perhaps if she found the angel and told it to stay for every single day of the year and keep all of the mills closed, Flora and mummy and daddy wouldn't go about with dark circles under their eyes and mummy's cough would go away and they would stop talking in lowered voices whenever she entered the room.
Flora broke into a smile and reached down to brush a stray blonde lock of hair behind Anna's ear. "So do I. You know why? Because the angel comes for you. And if it didn't come- God, if it didn't come, I swear I'd hunt it down and kill it!"
"Look away—." She drew her hand into her pocket. "There. Hold out your hand. I've got something for you."
Anna cupped her hand and closed her eyes tight in anticipation. Sure enough, she soon felt the pressure of a small package against her palm.
"Chocolate," said Flora, eagerly watching Anna's delighted (if somewhat confused) expression. "I got it from a shop for posh people on the other side of town. Walked in there and straightaway the shopkeeper gave me a strange look- like this—," she contorted her face into a grimace, sparking a laugh from Anna, "—and he said 'What the devil's a ruffian like you doing here?' But he couldn't complain when I gave him the money. There. Aren't you going to eat it?"
Anna placed the chocolate into her mouth, determined to savour this mysterious gift for as long as possible. It was quite unlike anything she had ever tasted before. Rich and exotic, like spun silk, melting slowly in her mouth, a tantalising explosion of flavour and all too soon it was gone; leaving a lingering aftertaste that seemed both bitter and sweet at the same time. She wondered what Flora had done to obtain something so divine, what hurdles she had to go through, from what magical, faraway land she had bought it, and at what price. How much money, of which there always seemed to be a shortage, had it required?
"Like it?" She became conscious of Flora's presence, of the barely-contained smile that was threatening to spread beyond the corners of her mouth and the soft, bright expression of her eyes.
"It's wonderful." Anna paused for a few seconds, at a loss for words to express her gratitude. Then she engulfed her sister in a fierce hug, wrapping her arms tightly around her waist. How did Flora know what to do and what to say all the time? How to cheer her up? How to tell her stories so vivid and so real she felt as if she was in the tower alongside Rapunzel or deep in the ocean with the Little Mermaid? What had she done to deserve a sister like her?
"Is there any left, Flora?"
"No, not any more. That was all I could afford. Why d'you ask?"
"I thought we could give some to the mice. They'd like it, wouldn't they?"
"Oh, Anna!"