Alright, I hope you are all ready for the most tropey fic I thought I could get away with. I know I've been away for a while, but that's because I was working on this. Thank you to gentle coruscation for the conversation that inspired this fic. Anyway, hope you all enjoy.
The Child
Beth had vowed never to enter an orphanage again, but even vows had to be broken sometimes. A teacher had written to her.
Not one she knew.
A Miss Alder. From Richmond Virginia. Allsaints Home for Children.
Lots of people write to Beth about a lot of things. But this letter in particular caught her eye.
Miss Alder stands in the entrance hall of a colonial era house with a wide smile on her face. She has long mousy brown hair pulled back in a bun and she is wearing a rainbow hair scarf as she'd said she would be.
"Miss Harmon?" she asks, without any hint of uncertainty.
Probably she's seen Beth's picture in a woman's magazine and even if she hasn't, the red hair and chic fashion are unmistakeable.
"Miss Alder?" says Beth. They shake hands. "You wrote to me about a girl?"
Ms Alder gestures for her to follow, casting glances at the other classrooms like she's worried someone will see them.
"I saw your win at Chicago in 'Chess News'," says the woman.
Beth raises an eyebrow and hates that she is surprised. There are lots of female chess players. Annette is a regular at their local tournaments and Beth even sponsored her when she didn't have the money to enter Chicago.
In the last five years since her win in Moscow, Beth has gathered up enough money to never worry again for the rest of her life. Keeping it all to herself seems like a waste and even all the best fashion in the world can't make much of a dent in her winnings.
"You play?" asks Beth.
"A fair bit Miss Harmon. You're quite an inspiration."
Beth nods. She never quite knows how to answer these sorts of compliments.
She isn't the first female chess player in the world. She certainly isn't the only one to play against men, but she is the American one. The one who beat Borgov on his home turf.
"How long have you been playing?" asks Beth.
"Long enough to know a talent when I see one," says Miss Alder.
Beth nods again. A woman of few words, they sometimes call Beth. As exacting in speech as in chess.
People like to do that - make patterns out of her. Tell her who she is.
They go up a staircase and come to a stop outside a large room with several beds.
Beth's chest clenches. It isn't quite like Methuen - the walls are bright pink - but it feels like Methuen.
There is one girl in the dorm, sitting cross-legged on a bed by one of the large windows. Her brown hair is braided into a fish plait and her shoulders slump in towards her chest.
Though she straightens when she notices Beth and Miss Alder in the doorway.
"Amelia, this is Beth Harmon. Beth, this is Amelia."
Beth feels like a thief. A murderer as she takes a step into the room. She hasn't promised Miss Alder anything but a visit, but even seeing the girl, Beth knows what fragile hope her presence represents.
And what pain she will leave behind if she says no. It is strange to see the situation from the other side.
And healing. It is not about this child – whether this child is enough. It is far more complicated than that.
But Beth knows what Amelia must be feeling.
She takes a few tentative steps towards the girl and sits down on the edge of the bed. The mattress springs creak and she notices the corner of a book sticking out under the pillow.
Amelia gives Beth a panicked look, then looks straight at Miss Alder.
"She likes chess," says Miss Alder. "Sometimes I sneak her books to read."
Beth nods.
The girl relaxes again, staring down at her lap, though she casts quick sideways glances at Beth every few seconds.
"How long have you been playing?" Beth asks her, making her voice soft and kind. She doesn't do it consciously, but it is a learnt behaviour from all those years at Methuen.
"Are you really her?" asks the girl in response. "The US champion? The orphan?"
Beth grimaces and the girl looks down at her hands again, fingers drumming on her skirt.
"I meant nothing by it Miss," she says quickly.
Miss Alder places a hand on Amelia's shoulder. "She's a good child," she says. "Quiet, undemanding."
"And how old is she?" asks Beth.
"Nine, Miss," says Amelia.
Unbidden, a memory flashes in Beth's head. When she beat the children at the local high school. That was why Miss Alder wrote to her.
Amelia had done something similar. Something the home could not really support. Beth thinks of Mr Schaibel. Of the day they wouldn't let her play with him anymore.
"Thank you for meeting with me today," says Beth to Amelia. "Shall we play?"
Amelia nods, and tries to smile, but it comes out as a grimace.
Beth smiles back. It also comes out as a grimace.
They play three games and Beth wins three games, but there is a spark in this girl.
And a fire.
"Shall we discuss this further in my office?" says Miss Alder at last.
-O-
"Would you consider it?" says Miss Alder as she and Beth sit on opposite sides of Miss Alder's desk. The room is decorated sparsely with the only touches of personalisation being a portrait of Audrey Hepburn and a women's chess trophy from the early sixties.
"Why don't you adopt her yourself?" asks Beth. "It seems you love chess enough to be able to teach her."
"I can't," says Miss Alder. "I...I'm not married."
Beth feels like she's been punched in the gut.
"You have to be married?" she says.
"Yes."
"Then why did you invite me here?" says Beth. "Why didn't you mention that in your letter?"
Miss Alder looks away.
"I hoped maybe the rumours about you and Mr Watts are true. Or you and Mr Beltik. Or…"
Beth shakes her head vigorously. She's been single since Moscow. She doesn't even want a relationship right now.
She spent too much time on men when she was young and she decided a while ago that she needed to sort herself out first.
That hasn't stopped the press speculating though. The bigger she gets, the more people seem to spill stories. Her neighbours told the press Harry had been living with her. Benny's neighbours told the press she'd been living with him.
Nowadays, they can't play a single tournament together without being asked if they are dating.
"Oh," says Miss Alder.
"I appreciate your letter," says Beth. "But you might as well adopt her yourself seeing as you have as much chance of finding a man as I do."
Miss Alder purses her lips.
"No, Miss," she says. "I do not believe that is true."
Beth tilts her head. She is about to say no one is too old to find love, but something in Miss Alder's eyes stops her. Beth clocks the portrait of Audrey Hepburn again. The rainbow hair scarf.
Ah.
"You do not want a man?" says Beth. She hates that she has to skirt the topic. But she does so out of respect. This woman works at a Christian children's home. She can't very well risk telling a stranger the truth. One wrong word could cost her her job.
"I am devoted to god," says Miss Alder, her smile only slightly forced.
"I understand," says Beth. "But this does put me in a difficult position."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have believed everything I read in the papers," says Miss Alder. "I'll tell Amelia. It's my fault."
She makes to get up and Beth thinks of the cross-legged girl in the dormitory, restless fingers weaving.
"Wait," says Beth. Miss Alder gives her an enquiring look.
"Give me a week," says Beth. "I…I might be able to do something."
I am aiming to update this once a month so the next chapter is coming in a month or so.
Also, if you haven't read my other Queen's Gambit fanfics already and you want to read more, they're called 'Adjournment's End', 'The Line that Cannot be Crossed' and 'A King Without a Queen' :)