CHAPTER EIGHT

Anne met Diana at the White Way of Delight on a sun-filled afternoon the following week. The afternoon sun was gentle and the soft, pearl-dappled clouds in the crisp blue sky were plentiful. They met by no way of planning; it was merely a meeting of coincidence. Little Fred and Anne Cordelia were in the care of their father that afternoon, and so Diana had decided to take a leisurely stroll through Avonlea, and memories had eventually drawn her to one of her and Anne's favourite childhood haunts.

The pair continued along the road; Anne, remembering her first encounter with the beautiful avenue almost ten years before; Diana, content with her life at that moment, didn't say really anything at all, and took great interest in watching her friend no doubt invent imaginative tales of tragedy and romance as she walked along.

Diana eventually broke the silence. 'So what do you think of Adam, Anne?' she asked. 'I overheard Josie Pye saying that he is a devastatingly handsome fellow. Do you agree?'

Anne laughed. 'I wouldn't quite say that. No, just very handsome, I think I would leave the praise at that.'

'So there are no dreams of romance, then?' Diana inquired in a teasing nature.

'Diana Barry, I have a good mind to leave you right here and keep on walking,' Anne laughed.

Diana shook her head, smiling girlishly. 'I just wondered…he seems to like you. And,' she added, 'considering you haven't had any romance in your life since turning down Damon.'

Anne raised her eyebrows. 'Well, let's not get onto that topic,' she said, continuing. 'I don't even want to begin thinking about marriage proposals again; they seem to be the burden of my life.'

Diana clutched her friend's arm and stared ahead, deep in thought. 'I don't know,' she said. 'I think most girls would die of happiness if as many men who have asked to marry you asked them, especially if it was Gilbert; he's so handsome, Anne. I even fancied him when I was girl. You don't seem satisfied at all.'

Anne stopped. 'I'm not,' she said. 'I'm waiting for the right person.' She looked dreamy for a few moments. 'I'm waiting for my ideal to step right into my life, as though he came straight from a fairy tale.'

Diana answered, 'Well, you can forget that idea, then. Nothing in life, especially in romance, seems to turn out exactly as you want it. Married life has taught me not to be as whimsical and dreamy as you are.'

'Oh, I don't know about that,' Anne replied, smiling, 'you're still as dreamy as I. And I can't quash it out of me any more than I can cut off my leg and continue on every day as I used to.' She plucked a fragrant blossom from an orchard and twined it around her fingertips. 'Let's face it, I'm a hopeless romantic.'

'Oh, really?' Diana asked. 'Nobody would have ever guessed.'

At that moment, Fred came running through the trees into the orchard. Taken aback, Anne squealed, and Diana jumped as a direct result of Diana's fright.

'How did you find us, darling?' Diana asked, clutching her husband's calloused hands with her own. 'You must have searched through every tree in this blessed lane.'

Fred looked tired, bedraggled, and concerned. He had leaves caught in his curly hair, smudges of dirt across his face, and dusty ankles. 'I looked for a while,' he muttered, preoccupied. 'Listen, Anne, Diana,' he said, taking a deep breath. 'I was just at the Blythes. I wanted to see how Gil was, and if he was better, surprise you.' He looked directly at Anne as he said this. 'And…well…er…'

Anne's stomach clenched. 'Fred, no! Gilbert's all right, isn't he? He must be all right!'

Fred suddenly found his own capacity to speak his news. 'Gilbert's gone,' he said simply.

Anne was confused. 'Gone?'

Fred, noting the terrified look on Anne's face, smiled weakly and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. 'Not in the…deceased sense,' he continued. 'But he's gone. Missing. He has been, for a week now, or so his father tells me. Mr Blythe assured me he has no idea where Gilbert has gone.'

Anne fell to the dusty ground with a thump. She paled. 'G-Gil's…gone?' she asked disbelievingly. 'He can't – he can't be.' She couldn't bring herself to believe it. The news was just too bizarre to even contemplate.

Fred gripped Anne's wrists and helped pull her up. 'Listen, perhaps you'd better go home now, Anne. You don't look so well. I'll drive you home.' He gestured for Diana to follow Anne into the buggy.

Anne seated herself, in a stunned world of disorientation so great that she didn't even resist Fred's instructions, as she would have under normal circumstances. 'I don't feel so well,' she spoke in a disjointed voice. Fred began to head the buggy through to Green Gables. When they arrived, he helped the two out and walked them towards the porch door.

Diana looked at her friend in concern. 'Will you be all right, Anne?'

'I suppose I'll have to be,' Anne said numbly. She pulled open the door and stumbled inside, her cheeks still no less pale than before.

Rachel was sitting at the table with Adam. Marilla was nowhere in sight, though Anne assumed she may be upstairs.

'What's the matter, Anne?' Rachel Lynde asked. Even she worried for Anne after seeing the look on her face. The look on her face was so pained, so desperately aching with distress, that even the outspoken, brash Rachel Lynde could find no words to comfort her. Adam looked on, and his heart lurched. He wished he could gather Anne up in his arms and hold her and cry her troubles away alongside her. But he knew in his heart that it would take time for this to happen. After all, he had known her for such a little time. He had to be patient.

Anne fell into a chair and began to weep. Rachel's hand moved out from around her teacup and grasped Anne's. 'Anne Shirley, what is it now?' she asked sympathetically, though with a familiar note of curiosity in her voice.

Anne sniffed and wiped her cheek, tears mercilessly streaming down her face.

'Gil's been missing for a week,' she cried. 'They don't know where he's gone.'

Adam was shocked. They must be good friends! Perhaps even in love. Rage filled his mind. Of all his stupidity, charging headlong into such a mess with no thought as to the consequences of his actions. Anne and Gilbert must be in love, and he had stupidly gone and poured his heart out to a supposed friend. Well, that would be the last time he'd speak to Gilbert Blythe! Of all the indecent, low-life scoundrels, he was the worst!

Rachel was shocked. However, it was obvious she was revelling in the potential of such a scandalous and conversation-inducing piece of Avonlea gossip. 'But – why – Anne!' she said. 'He can't be gone! It's plain absurd, that's what!'

Anne's hand covered her mouth as more tears spilled desperately from her eyes. 'I don't know where he could have gone. And we're such good friends…I don't think I can bear the thought of not knowing where he is, or whether he is safe.'

Adam exhaled, relieved that his assumptions had been inaccurate. He felt a pang of guilt at the recollection of his unjust thoughts of Gilbert Blythe. They were obviously only good friends; nothing more. Why else would Gilbert convince Adam to tell Anne how he felt? If they were, in fact, in love, he would not have done so. There's nothing to worry about, he realised, Gilbert Blythe is no threat. Of course, it's a shame he's disappeared so. But Adam felt sure he would turn up again, sooner or later. He must do; boys like Gilbert didn't just disappear and never come back.

Marilla appeared at the door at that moment. She wanted to find out what had been causing such a heated commotion downstairs.

'What on earth is everybody fussing about? Anne – what is it?'

Anne flew into Marilla's arms. 'Oh, Marilla,' she sobbed. 'Gilbert has disappeared; he's been missing for a week now. Nobody knows where he has gone.'

Marilla clutched Anne's shoulders, wishing she could take Anne's pain away for her. 'Oh, there, there,' she comforted her. 'He'll turn up, I'm sure he will.' Marilla held Anne in a tight hug for a few moments, rocking gently from side to side. 'There, there,' she soothed. 'It will turn out, somehow. God will look after him. God will bring him back.'

'I think I need some air, Marilla,' Anne said suddenly, drawing away. She wiped her nose daintily with her fingers. 'Excuse me, Marilla. Rachel; Adam.'

Anne stumbled out of the kitchen and into the orchard; though today, she found no peace there. Instead, she continued on until she reached the small footbridge that stretched along Barry's pond. She leant her head upon the railing and cried. She felt desperate and deserted. It was unbearable to know that Gilbert was ill, but at least she had the comforting knowledge that he was still here, in this world, somewhere.

Now, she did not know where he was, or whether he had even recovered or not. Fresh tears prickled at her eyes as they fell in simultaneous droplets into the pond, ripples spreading in rings across the gentle bobbing of the waves. She sniffled piteously as she gazed at her reflection. She seemed so small and so vulnerable.

She was not aware of another's presence until she noticed a reflection in the lake next to her own. Startled, she looked up. Her heart beat faster, blinking through her tears, wondering if it could possibly be Gilbert. However, as the blurring in her eyes subsided and her eyes once again retained their focus, she realised with a pang of disappointment that it was only Adam.

'I didn't know if you would care to see anybody at the moment,' he said, gazing out onto the waters, gripping the rail, 'but I decided to take the risk. Are you all right?' He looked at Anne. Her cheeks were bright red, though tears still fell upon them. 'Not really,' she said. 'Gil and I have been good friends for so long.'

'I knew him,' Adam commented, privately making the decision not to share with Anne his experience with Gilbert the previous week. 'When he studied at medical school in Toronto for a week or so, we become good friends. We never really stayed in contact, though.' He paused. 'Gilbert's a nice fellow. One of the nicest I know.'

'Yes,' Anne said. 'I agree.'

Adam turned to face Anne, his heart beating harder in his chest. 'You are so beautiful,' he said softly, the words tumbling forth before he could stop them. His fingers moved forward of their own accord and tenderly stroked her cheek, his fingertips gentle and soft as they lingered on her face. She closed her eyes, feeling both bewildered and thrilled. Here was handsome Adam Lynde thinking she was beautiful, when most other girls would be eaten alive with jealousy, simply to be in her place at that moment.

'Do you ever think of me in the way that I think of you?' he whispered. His face was moving closer to hers. He did not know whether it was he who was doing so or whether a greater force was moving it for him. All he was aware of was how close he was standing to Anne, how her skin felt on his face, how her eyes looked in the dusky light of evening. With a sudden movement, his lips met her own. They were warm and smooth; tingles of happiness ran through his body like electricity. His lips moved to find hers; Anne was so surprised and so flattered that she did not pull away, though she felt sparks of an unfamiliar kind running across her own skin.

Adam's arms wrapped themselves around her neck, and there they stood, bodies pressed against the other, arms wrapped tightly together, lips locked in a tender kiss. Anne did not pull away, but nor did she reciprocate the kiss. Adam wished the kiss would never end, in its sweetness. Anne was not unhappy, yet the moment seemed unfulfilled and unsatisfying in a way she did not understand.

When she finally pulled away, cheeks still flushed and face still wet with tears, she was overcome by emotions so strongly and so incomprehensible, that she gathered her skirt and dashed away, back to the house, wordlessly.

Adam, however, stood and watched her moving away and realised, with a pang of lovesickness, that Anne was the only one for him.