Naturally it was Rachel who spied them first arriving in a cavalcade up the lane. She rushed out the door. "Marilla," Rachel called embracing her daughter warmly. When she released her everyone was smirking. "What is it? What have I said?" she said, confused.

"They call me Mari now, Ma. It was just too confusing for everyone to have two Marillas.

"You can go back to being Marilla now you're home safe and sound," Rachel replied with that firmness Mari had half forgotten.

"No Ma, I prefer Mari."

"I reckon your girl knows her own mind," John commented. Rachel looked around then and saw how robust they all looked even wee Susanna looked the picture of health. All but the senior Marilla who it had to be said looked wan and exhausted as she leant on Gilbert's side. "We'll leave you here Mari," John said. "And we'll get on up to the old place. We'll call by in the next couple of days once we're settled in." With a wave from them all, they carried on up the road.

Waving the cart farewell Mari felt something break, her heart maybe that her adventure was over? She turned with her mother's hands on her shoulder feeling as though she thought her trip had been a terrible mistake. Mari did not agree, it had been amazing, but how to tell them?

Rachel had noticed that Marilla had not spoken a word, but she shook her head; her girl was home and she had much to catch up on. It was only later after a bath and a good hot meal that she felt compelled to ask, "is Marilla quite well?"

"There was an accident a couple of months ago," Mari explained. "We nearly lost young Johnny. It was my fault," she added, tearing up.

"How could it be your fault? Did they blame you?" asked Rachel her heat rising in defence of her girl.

"Oh, no. I mean at first in the heat of the moment Marilla was upset but she didn't really blame me, not really." Rachel felt there was a story there too but made the decision to come back to that later. "What happened?"

"Johnny was skylarking, and he fell into the sea. A sailor rescued him thank the Lord. We were all so worried, but he came to a few days later almost as good as new."

"But then why?" Rachel was perplexed. If it had a happy ending then why was Marilla still in such a state?

"Aunt Marilla never really recovered from the shock. She's been deteriorating ever since, so the Captain made the decision to bring them home. They're going to stay," she said answering her mother's unspoken question.

"For good?"

"Looks like it. The Captain resigned and left the ship in the hands of the Mate. Say, where's Anne?" she asked looking around.

"She's at school," Rachel explained. "Really, I could have done with more help around here, but Matthew insisted she get an education. It'll be good to have you back," she added caressing Mari's cheek with her work worn hand.

Mari shrugged her attentions away, "I'm not sure I just want to be your skivvy Ma. Now I've seen something of the world, I think I'd like an education myself. Maybe I'll go to college, learn to be a teacher myself?" Rachel's eyes narrowed, Mari had grown while she was away, and she was not sure she wholly approved.

The earth was too hard under Mari's feet, she missed the ship's to and fro and strange to say the changing hues of the ocean. She never thought she'd say that, after her first horrid days on board when she questioned her choice, she felt now as though the ship was home rather than Avonlea. Saying her farewells had been hard. She'd made friends with several of the crew, not least Isaiah of course, who hugged her tightly and whispered his best wishes in her ear before she climbed down the rope ladder.

She found much to her surprise that her family were not all that interested past the usual, 'how was it?' They stopped listening just as she was warming to her theme. After her siblings had initially gathered excitedly around her, she felt the expected elation evaporate as they moved away to get on with their chores. I'm back! she felt like shouting. Doesn't anyone care?

It was Anne who understood. Mari had little chance to become acquainted with Anne last time, but now she was the one to whom Mari gravitated. After bedtime they lay under the bedcovers together and shared stories. Anne wanted to know how everyone was, especially Isaiah and where they had been? She commiserated with Mari when she described those first days on board and how hard the transition had been. "You had no idea what you were getting yourself into did you?" Anne said. "I was so wrangled up in my mind, I didn't think of you. It's overwhelming at first isn't it. And you long for something to break your line of sight."

"Uh huh," agreed Mari. "But now…"

"I know, I know. Maybe we should run away to sea together, with Goliath of course. We could be ships cooks or something." Mari giggled, covering her mouth with her hand so no one else could hear. She sobered up when she thought of the family up at the Blythe farm.

Sensing her change of mood Anne asked, "what's wrong with Marilla?" She had picked up on some comments Rachel had made over dinner.

"She's suffering with melancholia. There was an accident. It was my fault." Through her tears Mari sobbed the story out while Anne rubbed her shoulder.

"Mari, that wasn't your fault. Sounds like a terrible accident, but what else could you have done?"

"I know, I know but she blamed me regardless."

"Maybe in the heat of the moment, but not forever I'm sure."

"But isn't that when your true feelings come out? I blame myself, I should have stopped him, I sh…"

Anne clapped her hand over Mari's mouth this time, "shh shh accidents happen. He was rescued, wasn't he? So why is she still unwell?"

"I don't know, she's just sunk into despair and she can't shrug it off. I miss her," Mari gasped, it came out without thought. "She was always so strong, I felt safe with her near. Now she's relying on all of us instead of the other way round. It's," she struggled to find the right words, "it's as if I lost my mother. They need her back; I need her back. Ma's lovely of course but I don't think she understands me these days. Marilla and I understood each other."

"You were kindred spirits," supplied Anne.

"I guess so, yeah kindred spirits, I like that," Mari said. "Did you feel the same way?"

"She was always very kind to me, she acquired Goliath for me in an Italian marketplace. I didn't even ask, I was just besotted with him right off and she haggled with his owner," Anne giggled. "I think he thought she'd be an easy touch being with child and all, but…"

"Oh my," replied Mari imagining it. "He must have got a shock."

"It was a thing of beauty," Anne said proudly.

As wonderful as it was to be back home Marilla struggled. They had hoped, expected really, that once they left the ship their wife and mother would return as good as new but it did not prove so easy. One more raised voice as Marilla snapped at the boys had John intervening. He shooed the children out into the yard and sat down with Marilla. "Still not coping, are you?" She lay back on the cushions and closed her eyes.

John left her there and went to find Matthew. As usual the man was holed up in his barn, the little monkey John remembered hooted from the rafters and refused to come down, disturbed by the stranger. Matthew had been delighted to welcome them home, but he too was worried about Marilla. He listened to John's proposal and nodded sagely, "think it might be for the best for a little while. She can have a good break here. We'll," he nodded up at the monkey, "give her a good rest. Let Cuthberts tend to Cuthberts."

"I was hoping you'd say that," said a relieved John.

"Doesn't Mama love us anymore?" Jacob asked when John returned home after delivering Marilla to her family home. John swung the boy onto his shoulders saying, "of course she does. Mama loves you to the moon and back, but she's not very well so she's just having a rest for a few days. Come along," he said distracting the boys, "let's see what your old man can rustle up for dinner."

They came to a new arrangement hoping it would only be temporary. Anne moved in with the Blythes while Marilla stayed with Matthew. The boys started school, but young Susanna stayed with the Lyndes, comforted by Mari whom she knew so well.

One afternoon Matthew sang old lullaby, one that their brother used to sing. Marilla roused enough to look at him and spoke into the silence that followed. "I just," she stopped and cleared her throat unused to speaking. Matthew silently reached across to pour a glass of water and handed it to her, helping her hold it when her hands proved too shaky. Marilla licked the last drops of water off her lips and started again hesitatingly, taking long pauses between words, "I just feel as though I'm walking on a tightrope," she took a deep breath. "And if I stop concentrating, I'll fall and fall for ever. There's no bottom to it. It's such hard work, there's no energy for anything else."

Matthew was silent unable to process how to help his sister against the demons that bedevilled her. With a flash he had an idea. "Let's get you out of here."

"Out?" Marilla shook her head. Her old bedroom was her sanctuary, "no."

"Yes," urged Matthew, assertive for once. "C'mon Em it's a lovely day outside. There's a comfy seat." Unable to summon the will to fight him, Marilla did as he ordered. He helped her to her feet and together they slowly made their way through the old house and onto the porch.

It was nice out in the fresh air; Matthew had been right after all. Marilla sat in the dappled sunlight, a blanket around her knees sipping the milky tea Matthew had brought her and nibbled the cake Rachel had delivered the previous day.

John pretended it was just an errand he was going on, he had to fetch those things, the things he needed from Green Gables. It couldn't wait another day, he just needed them now. Usually when he rode past the house was quiet, so his heart skipped a beat to see her enjoying afternoon tea outside for a change. He rode away without disturbing them, the knowledge that she had made it outside again was enough for him.

"You don't think I'm turning into her, do you?" Marilla asked Matthew one night when they were clearing up after dinner.

"Mother?"

"See you think it too, you didn't even ask who I meant."

Matthew sighed and took the latest clean dish from Marilla to dry, "well now, I suppose it's crossed my mind, but,"

Marilla interrupted him, "don't want it to, it can't happen. But I find myself thinking back to that time. I didn't feel any compassion for her then but now oh," she placed her hands in the scalding hot water briefly before pulling them out all wet and red. Matthew dried them with his damp tea towel and led her away to the kitchen table. Marilla looked at him for a moment and started speaking quietly, "I thought she'd given up. She had other children to care for and she deserted us, but Matthew I've done the same thing."

He took her reddened hands in his wide brown ones and squeezed gently, "I don't reckon so. You know the children are being cared for while we care for you. It ain't the same thing at all. We was left you and I to Pa's inadequacies. You know John and Anne and Rachel and Mari will look after the children better'n Pa ever could. We'll get you through this, Em like a family should."

Marilla pulled her hand from his and patted it gently, "I know you will, and I can't say how much I appreciate it. I'm sure you all think I'm quite mad. I suffered so when Johnny was recovering but instead of getting better when he did, I went backwards. There's no sense to it, I just feel so anxious that something bad will happen again and I can't get the memory of every evil deed out of my mind."

"When have you ever committed one of those?" Matthew was shocked.

"Well I left you, didn't I?"

"Em that wasn't a sin. You saved yourself from a life of deprivation, no good could come from living here with Pa 'n' me and then just me. It made me so happy on those long nights to think of you somewhere out in the world having adventures. I used to dream where you'd be and what you'd be doing. It must have been incredible."

"Mostly it was, not always," said Marilla thinking back to Tunis.

"Oh?" said Matthew.

"It started out so innocent," Marilla started quietly. "We'd been shopping in so many marketplaces by then maybe our guard was down? A group of pickpockets surrounded Mari and when she stumbled, they swarmed all over her like bees. I thought our saviour came in the form of a well to do woman who ushered us both into the most peaceful courtyard. Such a welcome relief." She paused gathering her thoughts while Matthew waited patiently. "I think of her now as the serpent in the Garden of Eden. At least that's how she appears in my nightmares. Her servants tended to us and served really the most delicious elixir Matthew," the memory of that drink made Marilla dry retch. "It was drugged," she added when she had recovered sufficiently. "I always thought tales of the White Slave Trade were overblown but they were going to sell us. I wasn't worth much, John told me later. It was Mari, sweet Mari. Rachel trusted me to look after her, Matthew and I nearly, I nearly lost, I nearly lost her to the slavers," she looked up at him with wild eyes as he gaped back. "You can't imagine. Well I suppose you can," she said with a shudder.

"My God," he said. "How did John rescue you?"

"He paid a handsome price for us both, I believe. Several camels at least."

"Camels?"

"Yes, women are traded for camels."

"Savages! You think in these enlightened years that sort of thing would have been stamped out, it is the 1870s after all."

"It's a different world down there, Matthew. Quite barbaric."

Rachel came to pay a call. She often dropped by to deliver food; a cake or some preserves here and a stew there, but usually did not stay. John had taken her to one side shortly after their return to instruct Rachel not to be too abrupt. It had taken a couple of tries to moderate her behaviour. The first time she had told Marilla to buck up she watched as the poor woman practically folded in upon herself.

Today appeared to be a good day and Marilla was sitting by the fire in the parlour. Having placed a cake on the kitchen table Rachel wandered in with Susanna balanced on one hip. She sat down on an armchair and waited until Marilla greeted her. It took slightly longer than it perhaps should have done, but Rachel understood that such things were an effort for her these days. "Good morning," Marilla said slowly, looking at the baby. It was like watching a man emerge from the water or from a darkened room into the light, Marilla looked at her unblinking for a long moment then eventually added, "how are you?"

"I just thought I'd sit a spell," said Rachel deciding not to enquire as to the state of Marilla's health; in Rachel's experience Marilla found that enquiry difficult along with making decisions. Marilla's unsteadiness frustrated her. Watching her struggle with the simplest of tasks was not easy and more than once Rachel stepped in to make the decision on her behalf. Marilla's relief was palpable; but ultimately Rachel reasoned it was not helpful. If they wanted Marilla to recover, she had to relearn how to take charge of her life.

Marilla did not hold her arms out for the baby, but Rachel decided to take matters into her own hands and set her down upon the floor. Susanna was not yet walking confidently but she had started to cruise hanging on to furniture and they both watched as she did so now, taking a circuitous route, via various soft furnishings to her mother. Eventually she stood by her unsteadily holding onto her skirts and looking up into her face drooling ever so slightly.

Rachel looked on curiously wondering how Marilla would react. There was no right way, not really, but Rachel feared Marilla would turn away. When she did not, instead bending over to pick the baby up and place her on her lap, Rachel let go of a breath. She left them to it and went to fetch the tea. She could hear Marilla chatting to the baby and decided to take a cup out to the barn figuring Matthew might appreciate it. "Thank you," he said when she handed it over. "How does she seem to you?"

"She's chatting with the baby, I figured I'd leave them to it for a wee while."

A warm smile stole over Matthew's face. "Good," he said. "Just what she needs I reckon. Something joyful like that, she needs a bit of reminding what life's all about."

Marilla relied upon Rachel to fill the conversational void and thus welcomed her visits. Rachel's news might be of the small-town variety though delivered as if it were if great import, but Marilla relaxed into the news of Mrs Pye's painful piles and Mr Andrew's failed potato crop as if it were riveting stuff. There was something relaxing about it all and she need not have an opinion on any of it; following Rachel's lead was all that was required.

Despite having contributed virtually nothing to the conversation, Marilla was exhausted when Rachel left, and she slowly made her way to bed to sleep the interaction off. Matthew found her there and bought her some tea which he silently placed on the bedside table. "Stay," she murmured. Surprised he sat down on the end of the bed. "I want to thank you," she said.

"Course," he replied. "I'm here for you for however long it takes."

"Think I'm going backwards."

"Don't think so," Matthew replied. "You have more good days than bad days.

"Do you think?"

"I saw Rachel visited and she stayed a while, didn't she? That's progress I reckon."

"But it exhausted me."

"That's not surprising, Rachel can tire any one out," he said with a grin, "but you lasted as long as she did."

"Then she went home to prepare dinner whereas I came here."

"Baby steps Em. Don't let that discourage you. Let's take it one day at a time. I choose to believe we can beat it."

Marilla yawned and said, "you are good to me, I'll try to take heart."

Matthew patted her hand saying, "you take a nap now and I'll put dinner on."

In the end it was Goliath that pulled Marilla out of her melancholia. He may not have been solely responsible, but despite his size, or rather lack thereof, he did make a difference. Banished from school the day of his toileting accident he wandered forlornly around the farm waiting for Anne's return.

The addition of another person had not gone unnoticed. Naturally he did not remember her as such, but her scent was reminiscent of happiness though he sensed now that she was sad. The first time he ventured inside he felt her melancholia infiltrating the entire house and unnerved he backed away. She intrigued him however and he would return to her door day after day.

Sound sleep had left Marilla the day Johnny fell. Nightmares were her constant companion. They did not always take the form of his death, all manner of dreadful fears surfaced going right back to her childhood. Some nights her long-departed father menaced, or it might be the ship hitting a reef in the middle of a stormy night. But that all changed the day Goliath snuck into her room.

No one knew now or why but when she felt his small hands caress her cheek and his small warm body fit under her chin she was soothed. He asked nothing of her bar perhaps comfort and even in her weakest moments she had that to spare. It was ridiculous she knew, but just having him around lifted her spirits. She was a little bit sad every day when Anne returned home, and Goliath swapped allegiance. His antics made her smile and she began to take more notice of the world around her. It was slow but Matthew noticed the difference. When he reported it to John they smiled together. "Funny how life goes isn't it," John said. "I was so furious when she brought the monkey back that day and now it's saving the family."