CHAPTER ONE

This fic is a prequel to my fanfic "Appearances".

'Mary! You have a visitor!' Mrs. Chater, the wardress of the orphanage, called up to her. With a smile Mary descended the stairs, lightly skipping across the floorboards. Although she was nearly twenty, there were several matters in which she was still childlike – not the least of which was her enjoyment of life.

At twenty years old Mary Poppins was certainly a beauty – smooth, unblemished skin; thick, dark hair; and large, sparkling blue eyes. Her mouth often curved into a radiant smile, and never more than when she was with her dearest friend and companion, Bert.

They had known each other for years – they grew up together. When they were younger they never were apart – it was always Mary-and-Bert, and when they grew up it was no different. Though Bert had left the orphanage two years ago, while Mary remained to assist, he still returned to see her often. She always looked forward to their time together – but today, however, was different – he was wearing a uniform.

'Bert!' she cried out, upset. 'What have you done?'

'I've joined up, Mary,' he said calmly.

'But why? Why?'

'I need to make a life for myself,' he said, 'and the Army won't be half bad. I'm off to South Africa at the end of the week.'

'South Africa! No, you can't!' she protested, feeling tears well up in her eyes. 'It's too dangerous, too far away!'

'I must, Mary! That's where they're sending me. It's the Second Boer War now, you know, and they need all the help they can get.'

'But I don't want you to go!' she protested, frowning. 'What will I do without you? And what if you get hurt?'

'I'll write you every week,' he promised, straightening his new uniform almost self-consciously. 'Cheer up, Mary! I'm finally doing something with my life! And I'll be fine, I promise you.'

'But you could stay here with me!' she cried out, her heart breaking. 'I want you to stay. And then there will be no chance of you getting injured.'

'I'll be back, Mary, you know I will.'

'But you'll be so far away!' she protested, 'South Africa is such a long way away.'

'I know it is, Mary, but I have to go. I've signed up – I can't desert now.'

She flung her arms around his neck, sobbing. 'Whatever will I do without you, Bert? You're my best friend.'

He slipped gentle fingers beneath her chin, tilting it up so that he could look into her eyes. 'And you are mine, Mary.'

Time seemed to move slowly in those few moments. Mary, her arms still around his neck, looked up into his eyes, finding something that had not been there previously. Slowly, deliberately, he bent down and met her lips with his.

It was like nothing she'd ever experienced, never imagined experiencing... whenever she indulged in fantasies of marriage and a family of her own, her husband had always been... faceless, somehow. But now a million dreams and hopes for the future filled her mind, all with Bert. It was as though his kiss had opened a new door, an entirely new future that had always been there, though she had never known.

They broke apart, Mary clutching desperately at him to remain upright. She felt as though every cliché about love had come true in that moment.

'Bert –' she whispered, eyes full of wonder. 'Bert, I –'

He laid a finger on her lips. 'Shh, darling,' he whispered quietly. 'Don't say it yet. I must go now, but I'll write.'

Before she could say anything more, he pressed another brief kiss to her lips and left, his tall form quickly disappearing amongst the crush of London traffic.

She wandered into the house, up to her room, barely avoiding the children underfoot. Half in a daze as she was, she managed to reach her small bedroom without incident.

What had happened? Had she really kissed Bert, her best friend of so many years? And why was her heart still fluttering madly?

How long had she been in love with him? How long had she harboured such deep, secret feelings for her best friend? Why had it taken her so long to realise it?

If only, only she had realised what she felt sooner! Then he never would have joined the Army – they could be married by now, she could have been expecting their first child... if only she had realised what she felt – had always felt – for her best friend.

What if he didn't come back from South Africa? Would she ever recover? She knew in her heart of hearts that if he died, she would die with him. She couldn't live without him – she never could, even before she fell in love with him.

Oh, why did he have to go? Why was he leaving her? Her heart was broken, and he had yet left London! How would she survive when he did leave, when he left London for South Africa, for his most probable death?

He must return – he must. She would die without him.

***

Three days later, she laid in her room, weeping. She had given her excuses to her employer, begging off her morning duties on account of a headache. It was a lie, of course, and her employer knew that – but she was compassionate, allowing Mary to keep up her façade of illness. Mrs. Chater had promised she would not be disturbed, but despite her promises, Mary heard a knock sound at her door.

'Come in,' she called, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone. She hurriedly wiped away her tears as the door opened.

'Why are you crying, Mary mine?' her visitor said.

She looked up in shock, her tears turning to smiles as she saw her visitor.

'Bert!' she cried out, flinging her arms around him. 'Oh, Bert, you're here!'

'I couldn't leave without saying goodbye, Mary,' he said, enjoying the feel of her body against his. He had wanted this for so long, and if he did die in South Africa, at least he would have the memory of holding her to sustain him in his final moments.

'Bert, don't leave me,' she whispered. 'Please, don't leave me.'

He looked down at her, his eyes sad. 'D'you think I want to, Mary? I don't want to leave you, but I have to go.'

'I love you, Bert,' she said, her voice a whisper as she clung to him. 'Stay with me, please.'

He kissed her lips lightly, once, twice, and then again. 'I would, Mary, you know I would... but I must go.'

'If you must, you must,' she said reluctantly, unwilling to let him go. 'But stay safe, my darling.'

He smiled down at her, allowing himself to hold her against him once more. As he guided her to her bed, they sat down, his arms still around her. 'Mary, I wish... I wish I weren't going.'

'Why did you join?' she asked him, her voice desperate.

'I wanted you to be proud of me,' he admitted reluctantly. 'As a lieutenant, I can... I can ask you to marry me without shame.' He produced a plain gold band that he held out to her as an offering. 'Could – could you ever accept me as a husband?'

She gazed at him, smiling softly for the first time all day. 'Of course I could!' she exclaimed. 'Oh, Bert, I love you.'

He slipped the ring onto her finger as he kissed her again.

'I must go,' he whispered, 'but know that I love you.'

With one final kiss, he took his leave, pausing at the door to take one last look at her.

'Stay safe, my darling,' she whispered after he left. 'I love you.'

***

That evening, in his small bunk on the ship, Bert looked out the porthole to the dark sea beyond. Already they were far from London, and already he missed Mary. Mary... his fiancée. He never thought the day would come where he would have her promise to marry him.

He had loved her for years – first as a friend, his dearest and most beloved friend, and then, when they were both fifteen, he fell in love with her.

He remembered that day perfectly – they had both saved up their money for months to take the train to Brighton for the day. The day was perfect – bright, sunny – and they had a wonderful time at the ocean. Neither of them had ever seen the ocean before, and they both delighted in the ocean spray, the feel of the salt water against their skin.

It was after, in their changing caravan, that he fell in love with her. She had just slipped off the rather voluminous bathing dress and slipped back on her corset when she asked him to lace up the stays. It was a task he performed for her often enough, but today – with her hair still wet, a single bead of water tracing the delicate lines of neck – it was so different. Her breathing was heavy and her skin flushed from her exertions in the water, and it seemed that his eyes were opened for the first time to how beautiful she was.

She smiled her gratitude to him, and with that smile captured his heart forever.

It was at that moment he swore he would make himself worthy of her love. And, during the past few years, he had done his best. But only now, now that he had a commission in the Army, had he felt worthy enough to propose. And she had said yes!

But now he regretted his decision to enter the Army, for it would take him so far away from her. He only hoped that he would see her soon.