L'inverno
1910 London
A fire crackled in the grate as Jane and Michael Banks paced back and forth across the nursery. They had done nothing but clean the house all day, and they were beginning to wonder if Mary Poppins was ever going to let them do anything exciting. The mid-afternoon sun streamed through the windows, and they gazed longingly outside at the snow-covered park. It sparkled in the sunlight, and they had to avert their eyes for a moment to allow them to adjust. Mary chose that instant to enter the room, carrying their winter coats and boots.
"Jane, Michael, come here, please," she said. "We are going to the park. Put on your things. Spit spot!"
They eagerly grabbed their coats and hurried into them while stuffing their feet into their boots.
"Oh, Mary Poppins, what are we going to do today?" Jane asked enthusiastically.
"If you would just be patient, you would find out soon enough," Mary replied.
Jane accepted the response as all she was going to get and fell silent. Mary was wearing her bright red coat and black laced boots, with her customary hat atop her head, and white gloves covering her hands. Once they were ready, after a quick glance at herself in the mirror, she ushered the children out of the nursery, snapping before the door closed, turning the lights off. In no time Jane and Michael were skipping down Cherry Tree Lane toward the park, Mary Poppins keeping a diligent eye on them. They entered through the gate and continued walking down the snowy path, Mary now in the lead, with Jane and Michael lagging behind. She quickened her step, and the children had to jog to keep up with her.
"What are we doing, Mary Poppins?" asked Michael.
"Curiosity killed the cat," she replied tersely without turning around.
Michael exchanged a knowing glance with his sister. They knew she had something in mind. She never gave anything away, and they had gotten used to that long ago. They picked up their pace and followed close behind her, not wanting to miss anything she might do. Further down the path, they saw a tall man dressed in a large, warm black coat, and an orange scarf tied around his neck. Bert was cheerfully whistling with his hands behind his back, and when he spotted Mary and the children, he smiled at them pleasantly. He sauntered up to them, a mischievous glint in his eyes that was not lost on Mary. She looked at him, one eyebrow raised, silently questioning him as to what exactly he had planned. He returned her gaze and smiled innocently; she still hadn't seen the rather large snowball he was concealing behind his back.
"How are you today, Jane? Michael?" Bert asked them.
"Fine, thank you," said Jane politely.
"A little bored," Michael murmured, which prompted a stern glare from Mary, and a slight blush crept into his cheeks.
"Bored? There's plenty to do!" He paused and looked at the children. "You know, all that it takes is a spark," Bert glanced at Mary and she looked at him with wide eyes, "and something plain as a park," he slowly brought out the snowball he'd been hiding, "becomes a Winter Wonderland!" Bert threw the snowball and it hit Michael square in the face. He cried out in delight and wiped the snow out of his eyes. Jane and Michael quickly joined forces against Bert and started frantically forming snowballs in their mitten-covered hands. Snowy projectiles were soon whizzing back and forth and the sound of laughter filled the air, while a very indignant Mary stood ignored on the path, impatiently tapping her foot against the snow, hands on her hips.
"Mary Poppins, won't you join us?" Jane asked hopefully.
She sniffed incredulously. "Join you? Of course not. A respectable person like me in a snow fight?'' Her arms crossed irately across her chest. "Honestly."
Jane shrugged. Why she had asked in the first place, she wasn't sure, since she had known quite well what the answer was going to be. She rejoined her brother, who was now covered in snow, and they resumed their good-humoured attack on Bert. Suddenly a stray snowball hurtled past Mary, just mere inches from her face. Her glare intensified and she'd had enough.
"Will you quite finish?" she practically shouted.
Bert, Jane, and Michael stopped what they were doing, arms in mid-throw, and looked over at her, snow drifting off of their hats and coats. The children embarrassedly shook the snow from their clothing and walked over to their nanny, heads drooped and cheeks red; they knew when she had that particular look in her eyes, she meant business.
"Sorry, Mary Poppins," they said quietly. "We won't do it again."
"You won't do it again is right," she admonished firmly. Her voice then softened considerably as she swept a piece of snow out of Jane's hair. "Really, children, be respectful, especially today. You do know what day it is, do you not?" Jane and Michael exchanged confused glances and looked back up to Mary.
"Friday?" Michael asked.
"It's the twenty-third of December," said Jane.
"Why, it's the Winter Solstice!" exclaimed Bert, who had met them on the path, adjusting his hat. "I had plumb forgotten."
"That's correct," said Mary with a small smile. "And now, if you're through behaving like a pack of wild jackals, we must be on our way. We're going to be late."
"Late for what?" Jane and Michael asked in unison.
She turned to look at them and nodded knowingly at Bert, who winked at her in response. After taking a swift examination of the park to ensure no one was watching, she placed a hand on Jane's and Michael's shoulders and Bert linked his arm around one of hers.
"Stay close, now," she said.
The world around them started to change and spin and it looked as though it were zooming past them at incredible speeds. Everything became a blend of colour and nobody could distinguish anything from the stream around them. Slowly, the world came back into focus and there was a great flash of light, and when it dimmed, they saw they were no longer in the park at Cherry Tree Lane.
***
Michael's and Jane's eyes grew wide as they looked around in wonder. The grey leafless trees of the park had disappeared and had been replaced with towering pines and firs covered with a fine layer of sparkling, new snow. White snow-capped mountains rose majestically in the distance, and, if they strained their eyes, the children could just barely discern what seemed to be the flickering of candlelight beyond the large evergreen trees. Despite the ice and snow, they found they did not feel the cold. They looked down and realised that their warm winter clothes had been changed for elegant formal attire. Everything they were wearing was white; Jane's lacy dress ended just below her knee and a gleaming silver ribbon was tied around her waist with a bow at her back. Michael was outfitted in white dress pants and a white dress shirt and coat, with a silver bowtie. They remembered they were not alone when they heard Bert's cheerful voice behind them.
"Mary, you look beautiful! Tip top from top to toe, if I may say so."
"Thank you, Bert," she said with a lovely smile. "And you may."
She truly did look stunning. Her hair remained in a tight bun; however it was dappled with ice crystals that made it glitter in the late afternoon sunlight. Her dress was gorgeous: it was a shining silvery white that cascaded down to the ground in waves. The sleeves stopped at the middle of her forearm and she wore short, white lace gloves. Embroidered silver vines decorated her waist and lower back. Her blue eyes stood out magnificently against the snow, and they sparkled with happiness.
"You look fine, too, Bert," she said affectionately.
He was dashingly handsome in a white tuxedo and silver vest. He wore a silver tie and the lapels of his tailcoat had a light sheen. He smiled at her look of approval.
"Why, thank you, Mary," he beamed. She snapped her fingers, and produced a single white rose that she placed in his buttonhole. He smiled tenderly at her and she returned it blithely with a glint in her eye.
"Mary Poppins?" asked Michael.
She drew her eyes away from Bert. "Yes?"
"Where are we?"
"Well, Michael, it is the Winter Solstice, which means that it's Winter's birthday. This is his party, and we have been graciously invited."
"A party? How lovely!" said Jane.
"Yes, lovely. And if we don't hurry along, we're going to miss it. Spit spot!" The children hastened ahead with gleeful laughter. Mary and Bert followed arm in arm behind them, smiling contentedly. They reached the gap in the pines and were met with the warm glow of hundreds of candles. Jane and Michael each took Mary's and Bert's free hands and the four of them entered the snowy clearing together.
People were everywhere, all dressed in silver and white, either dancing gracefully to the waltz being played in the background, or congregating around the edges talking animatedly. Gold and silver tinsel was wrapped around the trees, and pieces of the glimmering material were floating on the breeze, creating the illusion that the very air was twinkling. Soon after their entrance, a man in a long white robe with a rather odd mustache approached them.
"Welcome to the Snow Ball, Mary Poppins! We've been expecting you," he said, taking her hand and kissing it lightly. She bowed her head to the man and thanked him as he departed to greet other guests. Mary led the children over to one of the many benches that had been set up around the perimeter of the clearing, waving to and greeting nearly all the other guests they passed. Everybody knew her, it seemed.
Mary and Bert stood together beside the bench, still arm in arm, content to observe the gala in silence. The children sat and kicked their feet as they gazed around at the party guests. Much to their surprise, not only were there people present at the party, but also animals; there were polar bears and arctic foxes, elk and moose and snowy owls, white tigers, penguins, and wolves. They were partaking in the conversation with the people and were dancing, too, and Jane and Michael were both thrilled and confused.
"Can they understand them?" Jane asked.
"Can who understand whom?" Mary Poppins responded inattentively.
"Can the people understand what the animals are saying?" Jane reiterated.
"Of course they can."
"But animals don't talk," Michael mumbled.
Mary whipped her head around to stare at him. "As always, you know best," she said with a sniff. "And don't mumble. It's dreadfully unbecoming. I'm sure I never do."
They fell silent and a pair of adorable polar bear cubs approached the bench and nodded in greeting at Mary, and she nodded and smiled in reply.
"Hello, Mary Poppins!" they said simultaneously.
"Hello, Zima. Hello, Talvi. How are the two of you? It's been far too long." Jane and Michael stared on in amazement. They could understand them, too! They listened alertly to Mary's conversation.
"We're great! We were so excited for the party this year!" said Talvi.
"And now that you're here, it's even better!" said Zima.
"Oh, come now. Don't say such things." Mary blushed ever so slightly.
"But it's true!" they said together.
Mary merely smiled and didn't say anything in response. The children took her silence as an opportunity to introduce themselves to her furry friends. The young bears invited Jane and Michael to play with them on the other side of the clearing, and they were near to bursting with excitement.
"Can we go, Mary Poppins?"pleaded Jane.
"Oh, please, Mary Poppins, please?" implored Michael.
She nodded her head yes and they immediately set off running. "Be careful! Don't wander too far!" she called after them. She shook her head in hidden amusement and turned back toward Bert, who had been quietly standing behind her watching the festivities. He looked at her with a cheeky glimmer in his eyes, and a grin crept slowly across his face.
"What?" asked Mary with a smile.
"They were right, you know," Bert said. "Everything's better when you're around."
"Oh, Bert. Not you, too." She blushed scarlet, and glanced down at her feet.
"I mean it," he said as he took her hand in his. She looked up and their eyes connected for a brief, wonderful moment, but she quickly looked away and dropped her hand from his. At that instant, the music stopped and a hush came over the crowd. A large man in a furry white overcoat with silver fasteners stepped onto the podium at the front of the clearing. He had completely white hair and a white beard, but his bright green eyes held an ageless quality that defied his physical appearance. Mary and Bert turned to look at him when he began to speak.
"Welcome, family and friends, to my birthday party. I hope you all have a wonderful time here today, and I wish for all of you a safe and sound season. The first day of winter has begun: let the celebration commence!"
He clapped his hands together as the crowd cheered and a fresh powder snow started to lightly fall. All the guests went back to talking and dancing as the music continued to play.
"He certainly knows how to throw a party," Bert said.
"If you think this is grand, you should go to one of his brother's parties in the summer. I'll have to take you sometime," Mary replied.
"Shouldn't I be the one taking you?" he asked jokingly.
"Normally, I suppose, you would." She tapped him lightly on the nose. "But you, my dear friend, do not have the means to get there." She laughed good-naturedly.
Bert snorted. "You have a point; you are by no stretch of the imagination normal."
She looked at him in disbelief. "I never said I wasn't—" she interrupted herself, "what an impertinent thing to say!"
Bert laughed and again took her hand in his. "When will you learn that you are perfect just the way you are? You don't have to be normal. Who wants ordinary when you can have extraordinary?"
She blushed deeper than she had all evening. "I'm merely practically perfect, Bert. True perfection is impossible, even for me," she whispered.
"Pardon me for disagreeing, but someone very wise once told me that anything can happen," he softly replied.
She glanced up at him, and their eyes connected for the second time that day. They slowly leaned toward one another, and Bert's eyes moved to her lips and then back up to her eyes, as if asking permission to kiss her. They were so close; so incredibly close to discovering their feelings for each other; her heart was fluttering uncontrollably in her chest from both anticipation and fear, and it was at that exact moment when the Old Man Winter chose to check in on his friend, Mary Poppins.
"Hello, there, my dear Mary! How have you been this fine year?" Mary and Bert immediately pulled apart, both blushing profusely, like children getting caught eating mass amounts of sweets before supper. Bert would have silently cursed the man for his downright atrocious timing, but he was half convinced that he would be able to read his mind, so he refrained. Winter seemed completely oblivious to their rather blatant embarrassment, despite the tension being so palpable, one could cut through it with a knife.
"Quite well, thank you," Mary stammered. She smiled in an attempt to cover her loss of composure and to regain her renowned control. "And yourself?"
"Very well. Very well, indeed!" Winter exclaimed. "This season is sure to be a lovely one."
"Good, I'm glad," she said.
Old Man Winter started talking about his plans for the season; when it would snow, if there were to be any blizzards to watch out for. Mary wasn't paying much attention, and instead she was wishing that the awkwardness would dissipate, and that she could magically alleviate the situation. She knew, however, that it didn't work that way, and that this was one of those things magic couldn't solve for her.
"So did you get all that? I wouldn't want you getting caught in one of my darling storms," said Winter, and Mary was pulled out of her thoughts.
"Oh, yes. Every word," she lied with a charming smile. Old Man Winter grinned immensely, and placed a large hand on her shoulder.
"You have a wonderful year, you hear me?" he said.
"I will, thank you," she answered. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze, nodded congenially at Bert, and left the two alone again. He strolled off into the crowd, shaking everyone's hands and chatting light-heartedly, all the while sporting an enormous smile on his bearded face.
"You bold-faced liar," Bert chuckled, once he was out of earshot. "You know, in the five years I've known you, I don't think I've ever heard you lie before."
"Well, it's as I said. Contrary to popular belief, I am not perfect."
"And you don't have to be," he said. Before she could articulate her retort, Bert bowed low to her, and extended his hand with a dramatic flourish. "May I have this dance, m'lady?"
She smiled at his high spirits and took his hand, previous incident temporarily forgotten, and he led her out into the middle of the clearing where a slow waltz was drifting over the air. Mary placed one of her hands on Bert's shoulder, and he in turn placed one of his on the small of her back, while their other hands remained clasped together. Even the mere contact between them made a chill rush down Mary's spine. They moved gracefully together, crossing the clearing multiple times and back again, spinning and stepping in time with the music and each other. Bert marveled at how perfectly she fit in his arms, and he wondered if she was thinking the same thing. He looked into her eyes, and she returned his gaze. What he saw there startled him. He saw excitement, yes, but also an unexpected, intense fear.
"Mary, are you afraid of me?" Bert asked carefully.
"No. I could never be afraid of you, Bert," she replied.
"Then what are you afraid of?" They realised they had stopped dancing, and were standing in the middle of the clearing still holding one another close. Other couples sped past them, paying them no heed. Mary hesitated, and let out a deep breath.
"The unknown. Not being in control." The honesty of her answer took him by surprise. He was so used to her never letting anything on about the inner workings of her mind. Since Mary rarely explained anything, Bert had quickly discovered how to pick up the little things she left for him, the small pieces of herself that she sometimes allowed him to see.
"There are some things that no one can control, Mary Poppins. Even you," he whispered.
"I know," she said. "That's why I ignore them." She gave a frustrated laugh. "Though, I must say, I am having a rather difficult time ignoring this."
"Ignoring what?" he asked softly.
"You know very well what," she answered.
"Care to remind me?" he said with a laugh. She stared at him in annoyance.
"You are so infuriating sometimes, you know that? I try to be serious, and you go on joking as if you were one of the children I care for. Why I love you at all bewilders even me on occasion." Her eyes grew wide and she froze, realising what she had just inadvertently confessed. She covered her face in her hands and her blush became deeper with every passing second. Bert stared at her in shock. Did she just say what I think she said?
"You… you love me?" he asked.
"Do you see what I mean? My control is weakening," she said, her extremely perturbed voice muffled by her gloved hands. "And yes, Bert. I love you. Very much so." He took her hands in his and drew them away from her face.
"Would it make you feel any better if I told you that I love you, too?" he asked quietly, looking into her glimmering eyes. He gently brushed a snowflake from her eyelashes, and allowed his hand to graze her cheek on the way back down to his side. She didn't bother trying to hide her complete astonishment at his admission.
"Do you mean it?" she asked, with disbelief and hope echoing in her voice.
"I've never meant anything more in my life," he said sincerely.
"Oh, thank goodness." She completely disregarded all the rules of etiquette she adhered to, and her lips suddenly collided with his. He responded at once, and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to his, thoroughly enjoying the feelings that were running rampant within her. For both of them it felt as though the floodgates had opened and years of pent up desire and love came surging out of their hearts; unrelenting, uncontrollable, and unbearably powerful. They pulled away regretfully, realising that this was neither the time nor the place to continue. She smiled, gasping for breath, and rested her head against his chest when he pulled her into a tight embrace.
"I will love you forever, Mary Poppins," Bert whispered into her ear.
"And I, you," she replied.
They smiled luminously and grasped one another's hands as they walked from the center of the clearing and back to the bench by the trees. It was early evening and the winter sun had set, the warm glow of the candles now the only thing illuminating the party. Mary and Bert glanced across the clearing and saw Jane and Michael walking slowly back to the bench, with the two polar bears in tow, yawing and stretching out their arms. It had been a very long day, and it was almost time to return home. Mary bade farewell to Zima and Talvi, who each gave her a big bear hug.
"We had a wonderful time, thank you!" Jane said.
"Yes, thank you," agreed Michael.
"You're very welcome! Maybe Mary Poppins will let you see us again sometime," the bears replied.
The children looked at her expectantly, and she stared back at them with an almost distant look in her eye. She seemed to see past this world and into another, and her eyes held an almost melancholic quality, as if she knew something inevitable was soon to happen. Both Jane and Michael had a foreboding feeling in the pits of their stomachs that they recognised, but they could not recall what it meant. They shook it off and smiled at the bears, and gave them both a hug, as well. They smiled brightly and toddled off back across the clearing to mingle with a quartet of energetic, step-dancing penguins.
Jane and Michael looked up sleepily at Mary and clung to her sides in a loving, albeit lethargic, embrace. She smiled down at them, placing her arms around their shoulders gently, as Bert came up behind her and placed a hand on one of hers.
"Time to go home?" he asked.
She nodded in response and gave a final, cursory glance to the Solstice celebration. Making sure everyone was safely beside her, she closed her eyes, and the world around them began to spin once more.
***
A moment later they were in the Banks' nursery; their clothing returned to what it had been before. Bert looked at Mary softly, and she returned his gaze. She knew what he was thinking, and she would oblige him as soon as her dearly loved charges were well taken care of. He understood and, with a wave to the children and a tip of his hat to Mary, he climbed out the nursery window and up onto the rooftops.
Mary quickly assisted Jane and Michael out of their slightly damp winter clothes, the buttons coming undone effortlessly beneath her fingers. They were in their pajamas in no time, and were soon in bed and fast asleep, dreaming of glimmering snow and polar bears. She draped their coats over the screen beside the crackling fire so they could dry, and moved smoothly across the floor back to the other side of the room, retrieving a red knit scarf from her bag. Mary stood in the doorway of her adjoining room, leaning against the frame. She watched them for a moment, her eyes exuding warmth and fondness. Practically perfect people never permit sentiment to muddle their thinking, and yet, she could not help but become attached to these children. She remained resolved in her thinking, however. They were very close to no longer needing her, and she knew she would be gone shortly after the New Year. It pained her to go, as it always did, but she could see the Other Door in the reflection in the window and it beckoned to her; she knew that when it opened, she would take her leave for good. Pushing these thoughts aside, she checked herself in the mirror, wrapping the scarf around her neck, straightening her hat and smoothing the wrinkles in her red coat. Satisfied with her appearance, she stepped out of the window and into the air, where she rose gracefully up to the rooftops to meet Bert. She landed with exceptional poise, one foot before the other, and took his hand when he offered it to her. They stood, staring at the twinkling winter stars, both reflecting on the day and the revelations it had brought.
"No umbrella tonight?" Bert asked lightheartedly.
She smiled. "You of all people, Bert, know that I do not require an umbrella to fly."
He laughed and held her hand. "Yes, I know."
She looked deeply into his eyes and he gazed back at her. She tried to keep her expression neutral, but he saw through her mask, as he always did.
"I know that look," he said despondently. "You'll be leaving soon, won't you?"
"Yes, I will," she replied, looking down at their joined hands. The smallest touch sent her heart racing, and it frightened her. Mary loved him, she did, but she was afraid of this new power he held over her—the power to send her out of control; and staying in control, she knew, was the principle that governed her life.
"Will you be back soon?" he asked.
"I hope so. As always, I shall go wherever I am needed." She could hear the wishes embedded in his voice, and she did not want to let him down. The truth was, however, she didn't know when she'd return. She was extremely confused, and she knew she would need some time to think. She also knew, though, that this was not that time, and she needed to enjoy every last moment she had with the incredible man beside her. He sensed her apprehension and took her into his arms and held her in a close embrace, gazing adoringly into her eyes.
"I love you, Mary Poppins," he said.
"I love you, too, Bert."
He pressed his lips gingerly against hers, and she responded instantly. Though she feared the new feelings he created within her, she could not help but take pleasure in them. The soft caress of his hand on hers and his lips warmed her to the very core, and at that moment, she never wanted to let him go.
They kissed passionately beneath the bright third quarter moon. Both clung to the other almost desperately. Though their minds did not yet recognise it, their hearts knew that this would be the last time in a long time they would meet like this, simply as Mary Poppins and Herbert Alfred, on their haven of the London rooftops.