In common with many other readers of this excellent and heart-wrenching book, I was sorry to see the best character's death. It made me think, what if, somehow, little Judy survived? What would happen then?
Follows canon until the line, uttered by Nell, "Make her better, God—oh, please, God!" And from there—all changes. Some lines are rearranged from the original.
This is intended to be a multi-chapter story, but I do not intend to write it very quickly—my priority is higher on most of my other multi-chapter fics. This was as much an immediate reaction to rereading the book as anything else. As a way to pour balm on my grieving heart. (Seriously—I tear up every time I read this book, or even those chapters. Dear Miss/Mrs Turner—why?!)
If you have not read Seven Little Australians, apart from giving yourself a massive spoiler already, you can read it for free on Project Gutenberg. I personally have a beautiful copy of it, with gorgeous illustrations; oh, that colour plate depicting the children gathered, in the dusk, about Judy! It is heartwrenching.
"Meg, I can't think of anything to say. Say something, Meg!"
Meg's lips moved, but she could not speak.
"Meg, look at the dark—hold my hands, Meg!"
She caught them in a spasmodic grasp, crushing, looking on the little sister whose wild, fever-bright eyes implored her to do something, anything. Haltingly, she spoke, repeating the verses of a hymn; she could not quite command her speech, to think of words for herself, while Judy's gaze was fixed on her. "Come unto Me, ye weary—"
"I'm not weary. Oh, Meg, I don't want to die!"
Again Meg cast about desperately for something to say to Judy. Nell had got her hands, Bunty stared fixedly at her tangled curls, and Baby clutched her feet. Meg herself had nothing to do but speak; and that she could not bring herself to do.
"Oh—Judy!"
She could not break down. All depended on her. Oh, if only Mr Gillet could have stayed, not gone to get a buggy! Gathering all her courage she said the most beautiful hymn in the world. "Abide with me, fast falls the eventide…." And when that was done she could speak no longer, only look at this little, brave sister, and long for something to happen that would somehow slow the inevitable.
The sunset faded. Judy was quiet, and still more quiet, and then she shut her eyes. And thus they journeyed lonely together, though none ever moved a finger. How long would Pip be? Or Mr Gillet, with the buggy? Meg longed to move, to do something; but there was nothing to be done. If her back was broken—
She could neither ignore the thought nor face it.
Meg closed her eyes against the stinging tears. Bunty had fallen asleep against Judy's curls, and she would not rouse him. It was growing dark, so that she could scarcely have seen even had she wanted to. Then there came the sound of flying feet, and Pip burst into the room. Ten miles! Ten miles, both there and back, and he had returned.
"Judy," he said, disturbing the fragile peace. "Judy, Judy, Judy!"
She was very pale, her face shining faintly in the dusk. He took both her hands, gazing intently into her face as if he expected her to die now. A smile, for him and him alone, lingered on her face.
"Pip," she breathed. But for the silence in the room, it would never have been heard.
"Don't die, Fizz." His voice broke on the last word, the nickname that had once so aptly described her, and now seemed the furthest thing from truth. When he had collected himself, Pip continued, "Meg—there was no doctor there. I couldn't—I thought—" There was no need to say what he had thought, but Judy looked at him with a spark of understanding in her eyes. She did not say anything.
And together, six little Australians held the watch, while the seventh, who had caused all the heartbreak, slept peacefully.
Gradually a change stole over Judy. She was still quiet, but under her lashes she looked at them, a renewed flash in her eyes. She was still not the Judy they knew, but for the first time since Mr Gillet's pronouncement, Meg felt a flicker of hope steal into her soul again. She did not weep; but if she had, it would have been from relief rather than sorrow.
She got up at last, hearing noises outside. Mr Gillet was in the process of leaping down from the buggy.
"Well, Miss Meg," he said, looking at her. It struck her that it was perhaps nearly as hard and lonely and heartbreaking for him as it was for them.
"She still lives. And Pip said the doctor wasn't there, and he didn't want to stay away for him—away from Judy."
"Of course. Miss Meg, your actions have been invaluable." He put out a hand, and once again her small one was enveloped in his. Then he went into the quiet room. She did not see his face, but heard a small and inarticulate sound as Judy opened her eyes.
"Miss Judy," said Mr Gillet after a moment, "we shall have to lift you—on the door—into the buggy."
Judy did not move, but said at last, "Yes."
"Are you in pain?"
"I have no pain. When you move me—"
"You will not die." Meg said it more quietly than she expected, the weight of desperation behind her words. "Judy—"
Together Pip and Mr Gillet lifted it. Meg watched, not the two who moved it but the girl who lay there. She was absolutely white, and when she could take it no longer, Judy moaned. Pip bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, but held it steady.
It was a torturous process getting back to Yarrahappini. Once Judy roused herself enough to mutter, "Just get there!—This is worse, I believe," before sinking into a stupor. Everyone, back at Yarrahappini, was waiting for all the children; presumably they did not know whether they would receive six, or seven, little Australians.
As they came towards the house, Meg took a breath of the air. It seemed to hang heavy, to crush her soul. The moment Judy was well enough to leave, she hoped, they would do so. At this moment she could not even muster any gladness that Judy had so far survived. It was all too new and recent and horrible, and she must take each moment as it passed.
Together, the seven little Australians entered the house again. As they, so gently, set Judy down, she uttered a smothered sob, and all composure was shattered.
I hope you enjoy this! I suppose it shall be updated sometime. If you want more, review! (Please. I'd love reviews.)
I've almost finished the chapter for Protector From The World. Feels a little short, and it just needs another scene. Hopefully I can finish that tomorrow. I have another few thousand words to post tomorrow if I want to meet my goal for the year! :)
Please review, thank you!
