Chapter 7

Valley Road, as its name suggested was nestled at the foot of a line of hills. Anne found a great deal to delight in in her temporary surroundings; in the shadowy little home Janet kept and the easy companionship she found with her there, and the beauty of the eastern side of Prince Edward Island. She found woods to lose herself in, orchards coming into fruit and a landscape carved with intricate little creeks and dimpled hollows that asked to be visited.

On a calm Saturday in mid- August, Anne took herself to one of the little hollows she had found. Less than a mile from Wayside, she walked through the spruce trees to the little sun warmed pool she had found by accident- comforting large trees hid it from the road, and their roots forming a cradle that gave her a view of the little valley below. It reminded her of home, and she took herself there when the now familiar ache grew strong.

Her students were from farming families, pleasant faced and hard working. She sighed, knowing soon she would be exchanging the role of teacher for the more familiar one of student, returning to Redmond in just a fortnight. One more week teaching, one more week at Green Gables before her final year of college began. It was this thought that had driven her to the hollow.

Anne had been a spectator of life in Valley Road, her own was a tangle of loose ends that could not be resolved so easily. She had watched the culmination of the love story of Janet and John Douglas, the end of the manipulation that had kept them apart for so long. Her students she would hand back to Esther, who was returning to the little town the following week. The little class had grown used to Anne's more energetic way of teaching, and she thought with a smile of prim little Esther encouraging the boys and girls to climb trees for nature specimens.

She pulled her small notebook and a pen from her bag, and opened to the first page- a page that bore the words Dear Gilbert, scratched out several times. As it had before, the pen dropped from her hands, and she held the book to her chest with tears threatening again. Had he made it to England safely? Would his letter be waiting for her at Green Gables when she arrived? Would he even bother to write?

She lay back on the warm grass, letting the tears begin to fall again. It was better to do it here. Better to cry now when there was no Mrs Lynde to pester her, to ask why her eyes were red enough rival her hair for colour, or to ask Marilla if Anne normally suffered badly from 'delicate womanly issues'.

A sudden wave of panic washed over her. It had been two months, and her emotions were still so completely out of control- something even a dubious Janet had commented on. Tears at a breeze from the hills, the last of the apple blossoms falling from the trees, or a starless night. Or an absent letter. What would happen when she was at home? Or worse, back at Redmond? What on earth was wrong with her these days?

Frustrated, she did what she had done so many times before. She pushed the notebook back in her bag, and lay under the waving trees. She closed her eyes, letting the warm breeze soothe her, as she breathing deeply.

One day at a time. Emotions would come, and emotions would go. She would simply have to take things one day at a time.

Her welcome back at Green Gables was warm and effusive. Marilla held her tightly without words, and Davy and Dora capered around her like excited young foals. Mrs Lynde kindly commented on the dark circles under Anne's eyes, saying that people who studied too much tended to age faster anyway.

The familiar places soothed her in part, and she spent time scouring the hillsides for the last of the summer flowers. She took the twins on picnics, her restlessness finding a vent in vigorous outdoor pursuits, and enjoying long walks by herself after supper. Marilla noted these things with a concerned eye, and one day as they folded sheets from the clothes line, she addressed them.

"Anne, what is troubling you?" she asked plainly. "I can see that something is; I've never known you to be so withdrawn. Are you concerned about going away next week? Did something happen while you were away?"

Anne looked at her, not knowing how to respond immediately.

"It's- it's been a big summer." She said slowly.

"That was my concern with you teaching for the last two months." Marilla said, putting clothes pins in the small bag hanging on the line. "Was it really necessary to wear yourself out before your final year?"

Anne gave a semblance of a smile. "Teaching didn't wear me out. And I'm sure the final year will be alright." She faltered at this, and in frustration took a deep breath, as she felt the familiar water building behind her eyes again. She blinked rapidly, and turned to the last of the pillowcases on the line. "It will be fine." she whispered.

Marilla stepped in front of her, and took the pillowcase from her hands. She watched the tears begin to flow, and pulled the girl into her arms. Anne clung to her, trying to restrain the sobs from overtaking her. Marilla, never one to use words when they would do little good, simply held her. After a minute Anne spoke brokenly.

"He's not coming back." Marilla froze, not knowing who she was referring to. Anne stepped back, wiping her eyes on an already damp handkerchief. "Gilbert's not going back to Redmond."

Marilla released her, her eyes sad. "Is he coming back here?"

"No." She said in a tight voice. "I won't see him again." She turned from her to pick up the basket, and Marilla stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Is there anything you can do about that?" she asked quietly.

Anne shut her eyes tightly, taking a shuddering breath. "I think I have done everything I can." she whispered, trying to smile. "Now I just have to live with it."

"Can you?"

The question was gentle, but it put a finger on the thought that had tormented her all summer. She turned towards the house, but Marilla still heard her soft words.

"I don't know."

On her last day at home, Anne walked towards the Wright farmstead. She held a basket of Marilla's plum tarts, and some wildflowers from Orchard Slope. Diana had stopped in briefly to ask her blushingly to come to her house for tea the following day, her first visiting guest to her new home. Anne sighed, happy to put her mournful thoughts behind her. Talking with Marilla had released a little of the pain she felt, and as she turned in the gate to Diana's home she realised it had been at least two days since she had cried- that was a record.

Diana met her at the door, her cheeks pink, bustling around her kitchen with proud efficiency.

"Dearest, everything is wonderful." Anne said, smiling at the lovely setting. Diana showed her around the house, her needlework proudly on display through the rooms. Anne admired the intricate doilies, the crocheted hand towels and crisp white pillowcases adorning the beds. As Diana laid the table talking of their plans for the homestead, Anne saw the future that Diana had dreamed of, in a now realised form. She spoke of her husband with a pretty bridal rose on her cheeks, and Anne felt a pang in her heart that she forced herself to swallow quickly.

When the talk had simmered down, Anne looked at her friend as she poured the tea, and a sudden smile came to her face.

"Anne, how is your tea?" the young hostess asked, and Anne grinned, her eyes twinkling.

"I was going to ask you that."

Diana's eyes flew to her friends, and the two of the burst into a girlish peal of laughter. Diana covered her cheeks, and was silent for a few seconds. She picked up her rose rimmed cup, and then rested her elbows on the tea table.

"Do you really want to know?" Diana asked, her cheeks flaming.

Anne looked across at her friend, and then accidentally added a completely unnecessary sugar to her tea. As she stirred, she couldn't repress a smile, her own cheeks pink.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

Diana gave a long sigh that made the two of them laugh giddily again.

"It's not what I thought." Diana said, in a rush. "But it's- well, different. It's nothing like what is written in novels, but then it's not like what the older ladies talk about either." She said, with a roll of her eyes. "I don't quite know how to explain it, but- Anne, when you kiss someone, you start to want more- and then more- and then suddenly it runs away and it becomes something else entirely." she said, with a sigh. "And I suppose I can see why people could see it as not romantic: it's kind of raw and private and a bit confronting, but you were right- it's how we choose to look at it that matters." Anne was captivated by her description, her spoon destroying the tart on her plate unknowingly.

"I think all I can really say is that when it is the one you love- the one you know and trust above anyone else, it's the most beautiful and fulfilling thing in the world." she finished, her face rosy in her happiness.

Anne's fingers were trembling, and she laid down her spoon so that it wouldn't clatter so on the plate.

"I'm so happy for you, Di." she said softly. Diana observed the change in her, and hoped she hadn't given too much away for her friend.

"And you, Anne?" she asked carefully. "Are you thinking of your future wedding with Roy?"

Anne looked at her, her face pale, but she answered honestly.

"I'm not going to marry Roy."

Diana was taken aback and floundered for a moment, before reaching for her hand and asking the only question that she saw as relevant right then.

"Anne, are you alright?"

Anne smiled faintly. "I will be." She let out a breath unsteadily. "He's not the one for me." She looked around the tidy kitchen, trying to find the words. "Until I meet someone- someone I love as much as you love Fred- I won't be getting married." she whispered, trying to smile. "I realised that after your wedding."

Diana stood from the table to come and embrace Anne tightly, unspoken compassion and love enfolding her beloved friend. Anne sighed eventually pulled away with a small smile.

"But small matters aside. Come now Diana, this visit isn't to talk about me." she said, with an apparent return of her cheerfulness. "I want to hear all about the dramas that we didn't see at your wedding! I'm sure your mother had enough tales to fill a book." Diana laughed and went on to talk about Fred's great uncle who had gotten into the elderberry wine, and Minnie May kissing the ring bearer publicly- much to her mother's disgust.

Later, when Diana farewelled her friend, she walked her to the small gate at the front of her home.

"I am going to miss you, Anne." she said with a little sigh, and then smiled. "But I have a feeling you are going to have a wonderful year. You're traveling back there with Charlie and Moody?"

Anne laughed. "Yes, our trips will coincide on the boat train; Mrs MacPherson wanted me to make sure Moody wore his warmest coat, and thought I could keep an eye on his health at college. She spoke to me about it at length on Sunday." she said dryly. "I'm not sure why."

Diana giggled. "Mark my words, Miss Shirley, whoever the man is who is destined to win your heart has a mother- and believe me, they never stop coddling them. Fred's mother has already checked that he is wearing his winter pyjamas now, saying that 'autumn weather could turn any day now'. I didn't have the nerve to tell her what he actually wears to bed." she said with an unladylike snort.

Anne raised her eyebrows at her friend, who then went red, albeit looking decidedly smug.

"Diana Barry, I did not need to know that!" Anne protested, and the two of them burst out laughing again.

"I didn't say anything, Miss Shirley." Di said innocently. "Oh, write to me as soon as you can, Anne, I love to get your letters." Diana said, hugging her friend once more. "And I'll write back straight away. Tell me everything…." she said warmly, as Anne kissed her cheek; and she began the walk back home to Green Gables for the last time that summer.

The first day of the college year began four days later, and Anne sat in the rows of chairs reserved for the senior year of Redmond. Phil was beside her, and Stella and Priscilla had taken their seats along the row. Roy was no doubt somewhere on the other side of the hall, preserving a wounded silence and keeping well away from her. Anne took a deep breath. Her friends were with her, their final year was beginning. There were honours to be fought over, decisions that would be made for her future. Memories that needed to be made. For the first time since the beginning of summer, Anne could see the path ahead of her. No, it didn't look like she had planned, but then, the future rarely did.

And then suddenly, her world shifted.

The Chancellor of the University introduced the president of the Senior class, and of the student body. Anne looked at the young man who ascended the platform and gave a short address to the students, the familiar voice firm and steady. There was a sudden ringing in her ears, and she got up blindly from her seat. She pushed past Phil, fumbling her way to the nearby exit. While only a handful of people saw her leave, one of them was the gentleman on the stage. When he was dismissed, he quickly went through the doors at the side, and ran to the front of the old Redmond Amphitheatre.

He found her on the steps, and stopped cold- Anne's face was in her hands, and her shoulders were shaking.

"Anne." he said, breathless in his rush. Gilbert knelt down in front of her nervously, not knowing if he was about to be hit by her anger once more. When she didn't respond, he gently pulled her hands from her face, taking them in his own. Her eyes were red, and her cheeks wet with tears. He didn't know when she had looked more adorable. Gilbert pulled the handkerchief from his pocket to hand to her.

"You didn't go." she said, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

"I couldn't do it." he said slowly. "I think I have some unfinished business here at Redmond." His eyes were warm, and Anne choked back another sob. He gripped her hand tightly, and she squeezed his fingers back, her eyes closing against the onset of more tears.

"Anne, is there any room for an old school friend in your life?" he asked, his voice light. "I do come highly recommended."

"No." she choked, with a little laugh. "But there is a vacancy for my very best friend. Could you settle for that?"

He laughed, and pulled her up from the steps to give her a tight hug. As soon as he released her, he grinned.

"You know Carrots; I think this might just shape up to be a very good year."