The characters are created by LM Montgomery, and are her property... the original characters & storyline are unique to this story are copyright 2021, by Nell Lime.

Author's Note:

Hello Guest - yes… here's Anne's point of view.

— Anne —

Sunday June 20th, 10:00am

Boarding House, Brookfield, Nova Scotia

Moving the chamberpot out of the room into the hall was a chance to breath, to think, to process. Something I'd yet to allow myself to even think of since he'd knocked me over on the train only the evening before. I set it down and sank onto the floor, holding my head in my hands, holding back tears. Panting with nerves. I bit my lip, I was still sore, and in pain. What I'd gained, what I'd lost, and what I could loose still! Typhoid! We needed a doctor not Gilbert relying on his limited medical experience as an underclassman and trying to travel across Canada. No, we needed him in a hospital. What was none about it, how was it spread. I'd have to process what I'd gained and lost with Gilbert. Perhaps once we got him through this. I've heard of people dying from Typhoid.

I returned to find him asleep already in the bed. I pulled the sheets up to cover him. Oh this was just too much for my sensibilities. And could he have passed it to me? My eyes went wide. Oh.. I'd best wash. So arranging the drying clothes as best as possible to form a screen in the corner, not that I completely achieved it in the small room. I'd stripped and quickly scrubbed my body red. I refused to look at the evidence beyond a quick glance. Scratches on my chest and the bruising of a handprint on my chest, the one time I did glance down. I'd then dressed again, and opened up his notebook, finding detailed notes on the research of Typhoid, the cases at the Clinic. All quite informative. And all so Gilbert like. I'd paused though finding a folded drawing inside. A childish drawing of a little girl and a man dancing. Written in an adults hand, but not Gilbert's "Dancing at the Dryad's Bubble, Love Little Anne."

I grieved for his loss. For mine. I cried slightly thinking back to only a few days before when we'd laughingly read Song of Songs on Phil's bed the four of us girls. For my innocence. He didn't even know. I'd see him through this. But then oh, I could not bare to look at him. What we'd done… I couldn't forgive myself. I had no excuse. No fever. I couldn't think of that though. Not now. I should not have fallen asleep. Mrs. Lynde had cornered me before leaving for Redmond my first year to warn me of the marriage bed. That there was pain and you… no I couldn't think of that now. No one would ever know. I'd… I couldn't tell him, or anyone. It was just a servant who'd seen us. No one knew us here. Our sin could be hidden away. I wouldn't lie but try to help others to assume we met Monday on the train not today. Best think of something else.

The Typhoid…

He'd written on the one way the what the textbooks said how it spread. Excrement. I'd have to warn the staff to burn the contents from his chamber pot. So wearily I slipped down to the lobby, and spying the same maid as before. Clara reading in one of the chairs.

"That baby of a husband still sick?" She asked. "Men folk are babies when sick. Hope you like the soup. Sorry I meant to bring it but my cousin Mr. Teddy heard and insisted on delivering it himself. For, I'm afraid I was stuck with his mother, my Aunt for the morning, and she and Mrs. Teddy don't get on so well. So he did the early morning deliveries for the guests. We'd not normally even be staffed on a Sabbath, but he could tell even I couldn't take another hour of my Aunt. I"ll be doing the rounds in an hour. Checking chamber pots and such."

"About that, yes. He is rather ill and I'm afraid he'd been exposed to Typhoid. We're not certain, but It's spread by the excrement. The contents from his chamber pot should really be properly disposed of and washed with boiling water…"

"Typhoid?" She shook her head. "You're quite right. Best dealt with properly. I remember my, no they never had Typhoid. Room 203 if I remember right you're in."

"Yes."

"Now you just keep that man of yours comfortable. And if you haven't yet. Put him in a diaper. Mrs. Teddy won't like him missing and messing with her bed clothes."

I'd returned to find him asleep still, but it was nearing noon now and from his notes, I'd need to keep him hydrated every few hours at least. So I woke him, helped him to drink and have a little broth, though even I could see his stomach swollen. So I'd laid some of the flannel beneath him, held ease him back down onto the bed, and exasperated I'd began to massage his stomach, much as I had that set of Hammond twins. He'd been in too much pain now to object. He'd cried out in pain at one spot, but passed the excrement into his drawers, at least it smelled like that.

I tore more flannel for a diaper. And forcing all my thoughts onto the Hammond twins, I began to strip him completely, both undershirt and drawers were badly soiled. He'd must have had diarrhea after, for with the hard stool, was a mess of liquid that had burst. At least with the flannel none got onto his sheets. I'd seen few diaper explosions that had been worse. With three sets of twins, I'd changed many. But never a grown man's. Oh…

Perhaps it was the ultimate mortification that I'd had his legs lifted like a babe's, he hadn't a stitch of clothing on, and I was cleaning his behind of the mess that he came too again. That would have been a moment I would have welcomed him mistaking me for Anne Blythe. No, oh this whole adventure was a Jonah day.

"Anne Shirley!" He hissed trying to cover his front with his hands only to notice the diaper waiting and covering himself with that.

I wiped the last of the greenish brown muck that had come out of his behind off with a damp rag, then taking the papers I'd used to clean him and the rag I'd gone to the stove, and tossed them all into it before turning back to him, glaring. "Well, you soiled your drawers, Gilbert Blythe. You're the one who insisted on no doctor or hospital. So you're stuck with me doing the nursing until we can get you home. Then I'll gladly pass over the task of cleaning your behind to your parents, they've cleaned it before. Now let's get the diaper on you and an undershirt, I'll try to wash the soiled underthings you just soiled. Look on the bright side… You're easier to clean up then a pair of twins at once and you at least didn't decorate the ceiling with your urine like the boy twins liked to do when I'd change their diapers. I had to be quick with them."

He'd complied with me getting him situated into the diaper and undershirt and back under the sheets. "Anne…" He spoke studying me. "Did you get bruised, or is that a burn? The skin behind your ear…"

I pulled my hands quickly to behind my ears, feeling on one side, a soreness on the skin. I glanced at the vanity mirror to my side and saw a bruise slightly in the shape of lips. But then I also felt a little of the singed hair from the morning of the wedding close by. "Oh yes. We were curling my hair the morning of the wedding. Well, Pris was curling it for me, and I'm afraid we were a bit distracted…" I didn't dare admit what really caused the bruise. We'd never look each other in the eye again! Oh I wouldn't be able to. To admit…

He smiled. "Tell me about the wedding."

That was safe at least, to speak of Mount Holly, and Phil's wedding. So I moved the chair closer to the bed, and told him all about it as he fell asleep.

I spent the afternoon then planning, revising options. I refused to think of what had happened in the bed, refused to look at it now that he was asleep again. Instead, I poured all my thoughts into how to get him home. My first step was to review our finances. I returned to the pile I'd left earlier of his billfold, my purse and our funds. It felt strange to combine them, but the truth was, if I could find the funds to send a telegram to warn them about Gilbert being so ill. It would be worth it.

I found our tickets, and confirmed we both had tickets to get to the ferry. We'd have to purchase our ferry tickets there, and then for the boat train to Bright River in Charlottetown. I ran my head through those numbers. The Ferry was $3 per fare, and the boat train $1.10 each. So we'd need $8.20 for the remaining fares home. I set those funds aside. Then the hotel. I'd seen the sign advertising the rate, and I knew they'd likely charge us extra for Gilbert being ill. So $3 there, perhaps a little more, and I set aside two quarters with the three dollar bills. What could se send? Telegrams were cheaper if sent from Charlottetown. Twenty cents vs Twenty-five cents per word.

"John Blythe, Avonlea." I whispered marking off the words with my fingers. "STOP. Typhoid. Bright River 5:30pm. STOP. Gilbert END". That would be the shortest, and was the boat train before my expected arrival. I sighed glancing over at him. Or if I could warn them that... I didn't know what was between us. But, leaving some of our cash for food and supplies to get him home. I didn't dare leave more then $3 left for the telegram.

Glancing then at the billfold, I'd remembered a strange lump in it. Perhaps it was some coins I'd missed. As it was, I had to budget only $1.00 for us for extras getting him home, and that would mean we wouldn't have funds to tip porters if I needed help moving Gilbert, or food. I glanced towards him asleep. I shouldn't invade.

I opened the wallet, and felt in there, the cloth lining that was stitched shut, in large stitches. I jumped up, fetching the baby dress and sewing supplies I'd been working on for Diana's baby, sitting them all onto my lap I carefully unstitched the stitches. I'd stitch it back up after I looked. But... Perhaps it was the fear that it was a ring for Christine. That he'd lied. That seeing me he'd…

It was a ring. Seven tiny pearls in a line on a gold band. I'd held it, twisting it, imagining that he'd gotten it for Christine only, but no he'd said she'd been engaged. Oh why... Oh… I gasped. He stirred then and I quickly hid the billfold and ring under the sewing items as I began to work on the embroidery for the baby dress. He'd fallen back into a deep sleep and I slipped the ring out, staring at the inscription on the inside. "My Anne-Girl, SS 4:9, Always Your Gil."

The ring was mine.

I'd seen a bible among his things, my own packed in my smaller trunk to come with the girls. I pulled it out, searching for the verse. Song of Songs. "Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse; thou hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes, with one chain of thy neck."

Memories of that morning rushed back. Of being called Anne Blythe. Of our kiss. No kisses. Of… How he'd collapsed like a cake where the oven door had been slammed on it. I glanced towards him, and saw sweat forming from his fever. That he might not make it. I wanted to find the candy heart ring he'd give me years ago, and I'd began to dig in my bag for it, only the clasp was broken. The ring though. I could slip it on for a minute. I'd have to return the ring of course. I this whole encounter convinced me even more I should be a spinster like Marilla. The thought of loosing Gilbert… it ripped at my chest if he should die. Perhaps it was the thought of loosing him that caused me to slip the ring slowly onto my ring finger. I refused to let myself dwell on I was imaging him slipping it on. It was a little small though and did not quite fit well. I choked a sob glancing at it. I'd put it back. I was determined.

It could stay on for a few minutes. So I then got industrious and unpacked both of our bags completely, and began to reorganize. No doubt I'd have to help support Gilbert to walk and stand while carrying our bags. With the flannel for diapers, and some other supplies needed to survive the next day that I'd need to purchase as soon as the general store opened. I'd have to economize the bags as efficiently as possible, keeping each of our items separate when possible, but still…

My mind began to wander back to that morning then. My first kiss and I didn't dare tell a soul. To confess it, especially to Gilbert. Oh the mortification. It was lust, fornication. The bible was quite clear on that. Oh, the depths of despair. For the innocence lost. I'd taken little thought when we'd read through Song of Songs only the night before. Now it took on a whole new meaning. Diana had told me how she'd been sore after the wedding night. I gulped. I wouldn't think on it, and ignore the soreness. I'd just focus on getting Gilbert well, then preparing to teach at Summerside.

So I read the bible in the most boring section I could find. Leviticus. I was startled to notice that Jo had given him the bible when I'd paused to glance at the front. The inscription mentioned a verse that I looked up, about the Lord guiding our steps. But that ring on my finger kept yelling at me it felt. I needed to return it, stitch the lining back. I thankfully had a similar thread with me. I shouldn't have invaded his privacy such.

The ring wouldn't come off. It was stuck. I got up, washing my hands, and slipping as much soap as I could about the ring. It still would not slip off. Instead, my bony knuckles kept it prisoner. It'd been hard to slip on. What was I going to do?

I glanced towards him. Perhaps he wouldn't notice. Half the time he thought I was Anne Blythe. I… I'd just confess I found it, and it wouldn't come off. Best yet though I hoped he'd never notice and I'd get it off somehow. So exhausted I moved the chair closer to the bed. Woke him and gave him more to drink and wiped the sweat off of him. He didn't notice the ring on my finger thankfully. I'd get it off somehow before he did, and certainly before we left.

—*—*—*—

Author's note: So… Anne's curiosity got the best of her. :D Hope you enjoy.