Hi Folks,
I have to say thank you again! So you'll notice in this chapter and I think the next you'll see a lot of text from the original text. I've put it in bold and take no credit for it (L M Montgomery rules!) But its in there because its taking place the same time as Gilbert is experiencing it and its from her POV.
So please bare with me through it!
love
Carrots
So ashamed was he that he went into the library and short of locking the door stayed there all day.
'Should I feel guilty?' He wondered, it was his anniversary too and Anne hadn't approached him with a gift, maybe she had forgotten? Though it was a very un-Anneish thing to do, but if she had forgotten maybe it wouldn't be so bad that he had no present?
No that wasn't true either, she had a lot on her mind. He reflected. Nan's new kitten had ruined the fern, Anne had broken a painted glass lampshade and Gilbert knew she had felt awful over it. Rilla had had earache and Shirley had a mysterious rash on his neck(to him it was a simple rash and he knew it, but Anne didn't have the medical training he did, she had every right to be worried) Walter's stockings went missing (no surprises there Walter could be flighty) Nan wanted to know where the seven seas were for her homework, Di was twisting her legs round the piano stool again, (honestly one day it would cause an accident and poor Di would be in tears at her own doing) Shirley had a new magazine and, why was it stuck up with jam? Anne made it sound so regular like it happened every time… it shouldn't happen once and the prisms had gone from the hanging lamp. All this in the course of one day! Imagine all of this building up and up and up… his dearest Anne-Girl.
He should be spending the day with Anne, kissing into her neck murmuring those still true tender words from 15 years ago.
"How long will you love me Gilbert?" she had asked during their wedding dance.
"Forever."
He wanted to throw a book across the room he was so frustrated! He eventually emerged from the study to dress, the pit of his stomach lurched and his heart raced when he entered the bedroom and she was stunning! Apple green! Her dress had to be apple green and look perfect, yes, it's true he was an awful husband and didn't belong with the queen of nature herself her red hair (it was perfect, he loved red hair, even more so now three of his children had various shades of red hair) setting the green in the dress off and those rosebuds… roses, their wedding flower… did she… did she remember was she dropping hints? The dress reminded him of a dress she used to wear at Redmond. He swallowed at the memory and looked at his wife again, she looked just as she had that day, she hadn't aged a bit. Instead of saying anything he marched through the room pretending not to notice.
It didn't seem long after she was tapping on the door.
"Gilbert, we're going to miss the train if you don't hurry."
"You sound school-teacherish," said Gilbert, coming out. "Anything wrong with your metatarsals?"
He looked in shock as she had changed. Out of that beautiful dress into the black taffy dress. There was nothing wrong with the dress, smart and presentable, Anne couldn't help but look so beautiful but he never thought it was Anne's. It said nothing of her, it was too stiff and formal. Maybe that's all she was now. He thought sadly 'maybe I've whipped her into shape of being a dutiful wife'. This thought didn't please him, he never wanted Anne to do anything out of duty and he certainly didn't want it to seem like she was under foot. He thrilled at the thought of her challenging him. He looked her up and down sadly, there was one small sight he was glad of a small pink pendent snug in the hollow of her neck, he couldn't help but imagine it was him for a moment.
"Well, come along if you're in such a hurry," said Gilbert trying to sway his thoughts back to decency.
They sat in the train carriage barely speaking to each other. His Anne was quiet. How could this be? Then when she sneezed he worried. Was she coming down with something? Was she so run down that she was ill?! Well the sooner he could speak to Dr. Folwer and Dr. Murray about this medical conference the better. The least he could do was to whisk Anne away for a little while to Europe, he see the sights of at least London Paris, Milan, oh surely the old world would cheer her a little!?
When they came downstairs in the Barrett Fowler residence Dr. Fowler had asked if Anne was okay. Was it so obvious she was so mistreated? He wondered for a moment before he pointed out Anne had stumbled coming in. Gilbert made a mental note to ask Anne later if all was well, if she really was coming down with something her balance would be off and what of her sneeze earlier? He watched as Anne acquainted herself with the ladies in front of her and sighed in contentment. Not all men could boast a wife so at ease with others that others were so easily charmed by her. He could almost feel his own eyes light as he watched her.
'Damn her and her good looks.' He thought. She barely looks over the age of 21. He, he reflected was getting old his eyes sagged with greater ease then they did even a couple of years ago, his hair was turning grey. Dr. Murray who he was only just getting acquainted with asked how Gilbert had come by such a young wife practically accusing him of cradle snatching. Gilbert had simply smiled before Dr Fowler had interjected "Mrs Blythe is only a couple of years younger than Doctor Blythe." Gilbert couldn't help but laugh at the look on Dr. Murray's face.
"It's okay." He joked. "Anne does look very young, on the plus side I'll never need look for a younger wife now will I?"
They had laughed. Gilbert was glad. His looks maybe fading but at least he still had the wits to charm people. He looked to his wife admiring her again when another women came into his scope of view.
Christine stood for a moment in the doorway. Gilbert stopped and remembered Christine had of old that habit of pausing in the doorway to show herself off, she seemed not to have outgrown this.
He had, he reflected wanted to see Christine again. They had been good friends once upon a time. He had been given by Christine's brother, Ronald, a picture of Christine so he would recognise her when he met her in at Redmond, which Anne had later found in one of his old pockets.
"Oh," he had said off handily. "I wondered where that went to. " he said with a shrug. One of the very first romantic conversations they had, was on the very subject of Christine and Roy, he was glad in that moment they had talked about it then, there was no need in that moment. Anne knew of course she did! There was never anyone but her.
But looking up at her now, he wouldn't recognise Christine as the girl from the photo he had so readily disregarded. She wore a dress which was purple velvet with long sleeves, lined with gold, and a fish-tail train lined with gold lace. A gold bandeau encircled the still dark wings of her hair. A long, thin gold chain, starred with diamonds, hung from her neck.
He looked again to his wife. Her back straight, even in that taffy dress, Anne still looked more alluring then Christine ever did, including this instant. Her grey eyes sparkled in the light. 'Gods, she is gorgeous!' he thought to himself before he looked again to Christine, well he was sure she used to be closer to Anne's beauty than this?! But that was unfair, 'that was vanity after all, not vanity of myself, vanity of my wife, though Anne is more beautiful anyone could see that!' he thought to himself. 'And Christine just to look at, had gotten old. Anne looked half her age at least!' He reflected more. Though Gilbert knew there was a few months between them, in Christine's favour (she being the younger of the two), Christine looked positively middle aged. He saw lines around her forehead and eyes and she had put on weight all around her middle. He looked back to Anne, she was as slender as ever, despite six pregnancies and seven babies later. Not having babies had done Christine no favours. Oh but he had to think of something kind to say to her. Maybe a little white lie wouldn't hurt. He in fact felt very sorry for her as few people paid her any attention as she came in the room (unlike his own wife who held the attention of all she had conversed with) so forced himself to smile as she passed.
"Why, Gilbert Blythe, you're as handsome as ever, It's so nice to find you haven't changed." She drawled. (He'd forgotten about that drawl, Philippa had had one too but hers was playful and sweet while Christine's was… even in those few words bitter had it always been that way?)
"When I look at you," Gilbert started then remembered a line which he heard had charmed Mrs Perkins to marry Mr Perkins into marrying him, perhaps he could borrow the line, "time ceases to have any meaning at all. Where did you learn the secret of immortal youth?"
Christine laughed. (Oh now he remembered, her laugh set his teeth on edge, it was as if it were made of tin)
"You could always pay a pretty compliment, Gilbert. You know" . . . with an arch glance around the circle . . . "Dr. Blythe was an old flame of mine in those days he is pretending to think were of yesterday." She said.
'Old flame?' Gilbert thought, 'when was I ever an old flame?' had time been so unkind to her that it had on set memory loss too?
"And Anne Shirley!"
This annoyed Gilbert, 'Anne Shirley was she now, apparently 15 years of marriage still negated the fact she was Anne Blythe!'
"You haven't changed as much as I've been told . . ."
'who would have told you Anne changed?' he wondered.
"…though I don't think I'd have known you if we'd just happened to meet on the street…"
'no, not if you were expecting her to age as you have' his mind wandered was she… she was being catty to Anne? What on earth was her motivation?!
"…Your hair is a little darker than it used to be, isn't it…?"
'nope it isn't' Gilbert thought gleefully.
"…Isn't it divine to meet again like this? I was so afraid your lumbago wouldn't let you come."
"My lumbago!?" Anne asked surprised, to which Gilbert was as well.
"Why, yes; aren't you subject to it? I thought you were . . ."
"I must have got things twisted," said Mrs. Fowler apologetically though Gilbert knew Mrs Fowler did no such thing she was being kind and making it look like her fault, rather than fully believe Christine was being as rude as it appeared she was being. "Somebody told me you were down with a very severe attack of lumbago. . . ."
"That is Mrs. Dr. Parker of Lowbridge. I have never had lumbago in my life," said Anne.
'That's my girl!' Gilbert though proudly.
"How very nice that you haven't got it," said Christine, "It's such a wretched thing. I have an aunt who is a perfect martyr to it."
Her air seemed to want relegate Anne to the generation of aunts, 'if Anne was the generation of Aunts that only made Christine the generation of Grandma's so she really shouldn't be so pointed.' Gilbert mused. He never believed himself quite as prone to bitterness as this but as he watched his wife's reaction it melted away. Anne was smiling sweetly. Of course Anne would never pick up on such behaviour she was too sweet.
"They tell me you have seven children," said Christine looking at Gilbert.
His heart skipped a beat in sadness. He couldn't find it in him to speak. Their Joy had been so cruelly taken from them, how could Christine have been so mean?!
"Only six living," said Anne, wincing though he doubted anyone else saw, but he knew his wife, her emotional reaction the same as his. Joy would have been a beautiful 14-year-old by now, with his mother's large grey eye, maybe even her hair? Another redhead would do him just fine! He had imagined what Joy may have been in those years' hundreds, thousands, possibly millions of time.
"What a family!" said Christine.
Did… no it wasn't possible, did Anne regret their babies? The look on Anne's face? no it couldn't be right!
"You, I think, have none?" asked Anne.
"I never cared for children, you know." Christine shrugged her shoulders, her voice was so hard. "I'm afraid I'm not the maternal type. I really never thought that it was woman's sole mission to bring children into an already overcrowded world."
He felt an anger build inside of him. What exactly was she saying?
Dinner was called where Gilbert looked for Anne, where he found Dr Fowler had taken her. Gilbert's mouth played a smile.
'Anne Blythe you charmer!' He thought to himself. No one was able to speak to that little man except other doctors and he had found Anne enchanting enough to take her hand when his own wife was there. He couldn't be more proud in that moment! He stopped his eyes from rolling when he realised that meant he must take Christine.
"Shall we?" he asked her and she slipped her hand through is arm, as he walked he looked down at her hand, were they always so big? He wondered, not like Anne's, dainty, graceful and so so soft, no wonder their babies loved their heads stroked by mother's hand to get them to sleep.
His mind wandered as Christine was talking to him, he was secretly glad he was able to pretend interest, (something he was able to do in his youth too thanks to a certain Josie Pye, well Baxter now) as his mind thought of lovelier things then this dull who he was conversing with.
She was talking to him about rhythmic speeds for living. "…and I always insist to live in the fast lane, what's the point if there isn't a bit excitement." She said with a toothy grin. "Then…" she said lowering her voice so only Gilbert could hear "… you were born for the fast lane but been forced to be in the slow lane, what a bore! Tied down with that family and ambitions so below what you are capable of. I could help you there." She whispered to him putting her hand on top of his which he promptly removed he looked to her looking annoyed.
He didn't even have the words he was so angry! That family! His family! His life the one he had dreamed about, he was living his dream! How dare she come in and try to trample on it!
She seemed to sweep it under the carpet when she continued "… well that's why I went to Oberammergau."
"Oh did you see Passion Play while you were there?" Dr. Murray asked her.
Gilbert listened as Christine droned on about the play, he could only suspect but it sounded like a well performed monologue rather than a critique of the play, he suspected Christine didn't actually see the play at all!
"Have you ever been to Oberammergau?" Christine asked Anne. Then before Anne could even answer if she had Christine continued "Of course a family ties you down terribly," said Christine. "Oh, whom do you think I saw last month when I was in Halifax? That little friend of yours . . . the one who married the ugly minister . . . what was his name?"
"Jonas Blake," said Anne. "Philippa Gordon married him. And I never thought he was ugly."
Gilbert smiled. No, Jonas wasn't exactly handsome, but Philippa made up for any lost beauty and as Anne would say Jonas had a beautiful soul, and that he did! Christine then bitterly spiralled into jealous rage (in Gilbert's opinion anyway) accusing people of being poor and sad and accusing their little lives to be so below her own… and what was she saying about his island… but Anne put her in her place everytime… he couldn't help but admire his wife! Her ability to debate and defend her beliefs! She was wonderful! Her eyes sparkling again, oh her mood had changed they were green now. 'totally blissful." He thought to himself,
"…There is a surprising lot of them, you know, and they like to get news from that country."
"And you've quite given it up?"
"Not altogether . . . but I'm writing living epistles now," said Anne.
His heart raced. He looked to Christine momentarily. She was confused and Gilbert knew it. Christine could never understand Anne's higher plain of existence she hadn't the imagination, never could she interact with Gilbert the same way as Anne, and this! This was the living proof!
"Does anybody ever eat philopenas now?" asked Dr. Murray, who had just cracked a twin almond. Christine turned to Gilbert.
"Do you remember that philopena we ate once?" she asked putting a playful hand on his knee.
"Do you suppose I could forget it?" asked Gilbert moving her hand away.
It had been a group picnic where the almond nut was present, she had picked up one rolled it in her fingers.
'Come now Gilbert, what's the worst that could happen?' she had flirted cracking it open and had in fact found two almond nuts inside one shell. She had popped one nut inside her mouth then pinched the second in her fingers holding it to his mouth, he blushed slightly not wanting to take it but she persisted so he took it, praying she wouldn't claim philopena. "I claim philopena." She flirted still dangerously close. "its tradition Gilbert." She had laughed.
Thankfully he had seen her from behind first on their next meeting.
"philopena!" he exclaimed walking past her. He had grinned to break the tension.
She followed him for a moment before he turned and looked at her. "what do you want from me Mr Blythe?" she had flirted again.
He took a sigh. "I don't need pity flirting." He told her and walked away.
She then sprouted into do you remember each one bringing up their own painful association with them. He wished each memory he had shared with Anne. He was glad all of his tomorrows were for Anne only.
"Do you remember the night we went to the masquerade? . . ." she asked.
"You were a Spanish lady in a black velvet dress with a lace mantilla and fan." He commented, he only wished he was with a woodland fairy in a green dress with fluttering wings and long loose red hair.
"Gilbert, let us take a stroll in the garden. I want to learn again the meaning of moonrise in September." Gilbert looked to Anne whose head held high and beautiful, she was obviously in no need of him. So out they went.
He looked back and saw Anne take a seat looking out into the garden. She was probably going to speak with her fairies. He recalled nights he and Anne had walked in moonlit gardens of Avonlea. Anne's hair caught tonight like it did then, it glistened in the moonlight. She was stunning.
Christine was looking up at the sky. He reached into his own pocket and pulled out a dog biscuit. She looked to the item then to Gilbert. "Sorry." He apologised. "another new pup." He said with a shake of the head.
"You have dogs?" she asked him. "Oh what pedigree?" she asked.
He laughed. "they're mutts and don't we know it." He said thinking of the cuteness of mixed breeds.
"Oh you really ought to have pedigrees' you don't know where those mutts have been or how good their parents are, they're like your little ones imagine breeding with someone without knowing her breed…" she paused as a look flashed on Gilbert's face, she couldn't believe after all these years after everything Anne Shirley put him through he still wouldn't stand for anything bad to be said about Anne. "…but then…" she continued loftily he could have sworn she looked spitefully towards Anne, which only made him angrier. "I breed dogs you know. I have a new breed they are called Dobermann pinschers…"
He sighed and thought again of Mrs Garrow, he hoped he heard word soon. What if she died? He couldn't show his face again… they'd had to move…. Possibly off the island…
"…A flea can jump two hundred times its own length. So that's why you must keep them away from other pups, you don't know where they've been!" Gilbert smiled and nodded dutifully.
But then if they did have to move would Anne be happy? And the children he's be moving them away from the valley!
Gilbert was bored of their conversation. He was bored and he wished for Anne.
They came in and Gilbert sat quietly, he was missing Anne. Christine sang . . . moderately well. Gilbert felt uncomfortable was she singing at him? "the dear dead days beyond recall." Gilbert leaned back in an easy-chair and remembered those days, those two years he ached for her! He missed Anne so entirely those two years felt like an eternity. Those days were long gone, yes. Gone and dead and he was thankful for it. Those days he was without his wife were gone and no, he didn't miss them at all!
When the night was finally closing he took Christine for her coat, glad to be rid of her. She reached up and picked a leaf from his shoulder; the gesture he felt was uncomfortable even more so when he turned to find Anne standing watching.
"Are you really well, Gilbert? You look frightfully tired. I know you're overdoing it."
He sighed, after spending the entire evening with him, she never mentioned his health once except in front of his wife, who he knew was unwell herself… Well frankly he was a doctor, she clearly had no idea what it meant to be a doctor. Anne understood.
Christine turned to Anne.
"It's been so nice to meet you again, Anne. Quite like old times."
"Quite," said Anne.
"But I've just been telling Gilbert he looked a little tired. You ought to take better care of him, Anne. There was a time, you know, when I really had quite a fancy for this husband of yours. I believe he really was the nicest beau I ever had. But you must forgive me since I didn't take him from you."
Gilbert froze. 'I was a what?!' Anne knew, Anne must have known! There was only Anne, there was only ever Anne, that was all that mattered, right?
"Perhaps he is pitying himself that you didn't," she said. Which chilled Gilbert to the bone.
"You dear funny thing!" said Christine, with a shrug of her too wide shoulders. She was looking after them as if something amused her hugely.
