Author's Note: please accept apologies for inconsistencies in canon, I have not read Mrs Gaskell and I wrote this story four years ago after watching the Christmas episodes. I have not seen any Cranford since!

Prologue

"A woman and her daughter," Miss Matty told her friends with a warm smile.

"No husband?" Miss Pole said automatically, the suspicion already in her voice.

Mrs Forester smiled and looked at their hostess, she put her hand on her excitable friend's arm and said gently, "Widowed perhaps?" Miss Matty nodded.

"The husband died abroad, but there is a son who supports them both, I- I'm not sure where he is."

Miss Pole looked at Mrs Forester and raised her eyebrows in triumph; there was some intrigue at least if no scandal. "Tell us Miss Matty, what are they like?" the busybody pressed interestedly but their hostess shrugged a little and shook her head.

"I am only telling you what Mr Buxton has told me, I have not met them," she admitted, "it is his house to let, he who has seen them."

"You do not even know how old the daughter is?" Miss Tomkinson tilted her head and put down her cup and saucer.

"Oh," Miss Matty blushed, "she is young, but not as young as Miss Erminia." She clarified.

"Has Miss Erminia met them?" Miss Pole interjected.

"I- I am not sure," Matty admitted.

"In her twenties, her early twenties?" Mrs Forester guessed for the women in the group and once more Miss Matty nodded a noncommittal sort of nod.

"I think you should quiz Miss Erminia," Miss Pole said quickly, "the next time you are in their company you must take her aside and get us some more information. I do not want strangers living in Cranford."

Another voice, not yet heard came from the corner of the room where Miss Matty's brother Peter sat at his desk, he turned and looked at Miss Pole who sat puffed up grandly in the Jenkyns' parlour. "I do not think that it is Miss Erminia my sister goes to visit," he said dryly and Miss Pole deflated slightly and blushed, Peter smiled warmly at her in amusement. "Dear ladies, you need only wait two more days before you can see these strangers with your own eyes." He said to the room, "you know now that they are women, perhaps that will give you an idea as what you can take them as a gift to welcome them to our little community." He turned back to his writing and Matty felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment, her brother did not know how to behave in England. It was bad enough that he persisted in staying in the room when her friends came to visit her, but to address them all and then just turn his back on them, it made her cringe!

"Then, Mr Jenkyns," Mrs Forester said calmly, "you have heard that they will be here on Saturday?"

The ladies exchanged excited glances and made excitable noises, Miss Pole cleared her throat and attempted to address Peter Jenkyns, "Maybe Mr Jenkyns could enlighten us on these people, a name perhaps?" she tried sweetly.

Peter did not turn, he looked down at the notice he had carefully and skilfully been writing out for the village store. He had not been able to write a whole word with his sister's gossip group in the room, but he had not left for the light was best in the parlour and he had told the mayor and his wife that they would have their decorative sign for the next morning. "Their name is Walker," he said resignedly, he turned and looked at his audience, "and I only know this because the Johnsons informed me, not that I had any interest in knowing," he stressed, "they obviously mistook me for one of you."

"What- what else did they say?" Miss Tomkinson asked eagerly.

"Nothing else to me," Peter said matter of factly, "I told them I didn't wish to pry."

Miss Pole stood up importantly, "Come," she said to her friends, "It is just past three, they will still be open. We will have our answers yet." Miss Tomkinson and Mrs Forester stood obediently and Peter stood and bowed his head as the ladies curtseyed and hurried from their front room. Matty followed them and showed them out. "Do you not wish to join us, Miss Matty?" Miss Pole said in affronted surprise.

"I- I think I will wait until Saturday, as Peter suggested." She smiled and nodded to her friends in thanks for the offer.

"Thank you for the tea, Miss Matty," Mrs Forester managed to say and Miss Tomkinson managed a nod in agreement before Miss Pole pulled them both away towards the centre of the village.

"Peter, you are so rude!" Matty said irritably to her brother who was happily concentrating on his work once more.

"They are busybodies," he said quietly and he smiled at his sister's fury while he carefully drew another perfect letter. "Let the Johnsons have them for half an hour."

"It is only natural that they are curious," Matty explained, "a new face is as exciting it gets for us," she smiled at her brother who still did not look up, "they have not had exciting lives like you."

"If they are so excited," Peter turned and looked at his sister, "then why do they protest so much at the idea of new neighbours?"

"That is just Miss Pole," Matty said shortly, "and you know she only says things like that because she likes to argue. She has always been like that."

"I remember," Peter raised an eyebrow and laughed a little. He looked up at his sister in earnest, "am I terrible, Matty?" he asked her honestly, "do I embarrass you awfully?" he stressed and she rolled her eyes as he began to exaggerate his phrases even further, "am I just the most wretched brother who ever lived?"

She shook her head in annoyance. "They are gone," she said finitely, "be happy you can finish your notice in peace." He smiled at her and she had to smile back even though she had been angry with him.

He had a way of making her smile, perhaps it was just that he was there, that he had returned after so many years abroad and now he sat at the desk by the window where he had sat as a young man painting his sisters' portraits and amusing them greatly with his storytelling. Even Deborah who had been a serious young woman had been reduced to giggles by the wild imagination of her younger brother, having Peter back in her house reminded Matty of her late sister and she no longer felt as though Deborah was quite so far away.