Dolphins weaved and gyrated in the clear turquoise sea beneath unseen by all except Mari suspended like a figurehead on the ship's bow. She could hear their excited squeaks and longed to dive in and lo it was so. The shock of the water unfelt and it was as if she were a dolphin too feeling the shimmer of water on her skin like a gossamer of silk. She needed no breath and though the dolphins were swimming fast she easily kept up with them her heart singing with the pure unadulterated joy. She rose to feel the spray of the bow wave – OW, she felt a sharp pain in her side and turned to see not a silver dolphin but red-haired Anne Shirley her brow furrowed looking at her sternly. Silently Anne mouthed the question the master had asked more than once. Mari blinked several times; her daydream had been so real, so beautiful and to find herself in their dingy schoolroom with the teacher looming over her was too much. She slumped down her head on her arms and sighed deeply.

"Up!" Dragged to her feet by her ear Mari stood up to face to the teacher's tirade, his spittle eerily reminding her of the sea spray.

Mari Lynde missed the ocean, there were no two ways about it. She had watched on with no small degree of jealousy when Anne and Matthew had sailed off in search of Johnny Blythe wishing fervently that she could summon an excuse to replace reluctant Matthew but being unable to find one. Her mother had turned away when the carriage leading them to the docks had passed around the corner, but Mari stood transfixed for some time imagining where the buggy and later the ship might take them. She knew their quest was in deadly earnest and no pleasure cruise, but she cried herself to sleep that night with rank envy.

Rachel had recently ordered some special yarn which had to be sent over from the mainland and to give Mari a change of scenery had sent her and Anne down to the docks where the ferry came in to pick it up. Mari had been worrying her lately, she had been prone to daydreaming and more than once Rachel had had to scold her for her inattentiveness. Perhaps a nice outing would shift the girl's mood. Rachel knew she was at a restless certain age and felt sure her little adventure around the world had not helped.

It was with light hearts that the girls set out one bright morning. It was not warm yet, but blue sky beckoned, and they felt energised by the thought of their trip as short as it would be. Avonlea's confines felt too small for the two young girls, and they sat in the back of the buggy waving farewell to their younger siblings as Thomas Lynde geed the horse on. As close as they were to the sea, Avonlea folk were not often to be found there, a point which mystified Anne and by extension Mari when Anne spoke of it. "It's silly isn't it. Although we're island folk, we see so little of the sea except in the distance."

"Mm hm," replied Anne. "I miss the smell of the ozone and the calling of the gulls."

"And the lapping of the waves."

"Mm," Anne closed her eyes momentarily fixing an image in her mind.

"It seems like a long time since I've seen a quayside too," Mari added after a pause.

"Well not long to wait now," Anne said with glee. "How far it is Mr Lynde? She asked over her shoulder.

"A whiles off yet, Anne. Best you two get good and comfy back there. Or you're welcome to join me up here." The girls declined, preferring to recline in the back, bumps and all.

Their journey took a couple of hours, but they arrived at last. The girls jumped down and helped each other brush clean, smoothing out the worst of their creases. "Now I have some business to conclude," Mr Lynde said. "You have the errands from Ma, is that right, Mari?" she nodded. "Shall we agree to meet back here in a couple of hours? That gives us all time for a good wander around and then we can grab a bite to eat before we leave."

Mari pecked her father on the cheek and arm in arm the girls turned in the opposite direction. The town and docks beckoned, and they planned to make the most of their day.

The yarn bought and other errands finished the girls made their way down to the docks to gaze at the ships tied up and those moored further out in the harbour. "Miss it?" Anne asked.

"Uh huh," Mari nodded. She paused and studiously studied her toes for a moment.

Anne waited then asked, "mm?"

"IknowitwasntfunbutIwishedIcouldhavegonetoo," Mari blurted out in a torrent.

"I was sad to leave you behind. I think we could have had a marvellous time out there," Anne replied with a sad smile. "Sometimes I imagine we're on some sailing ship in a light breeze."

Mari smiled, her eyes somewhat misty, "mm, and the dolphins playing in the water below."

"Uh huh and the sailors singing a shanty in the rigging."

"Do you think we'll ever get away again?"

"I reckon Marilla never imagined she could," Anne said placatingly.

"Mm," Mari nodded. "I suppose if it could happen to her."

"Precisely. We don't have to be stuck in Avonlea forever. I mean I love it. It really is heavenly to have a family who cares for me and my own little monkey and everything, but I guess if you've always had that and then a taste of adventure, well…"

"That's it, Anne. I know what's beyond our shores and I long to see more of it, but I can't say anything to Ma. She just shuts me down. Tells me it's my responsibility to stay home and settle down now. I don't think I've changed all that much, but when I see how small-minded she is, I suppose I must have."

"Mm," agreed Anne. "Well, I'm off for a walk down the beach, care to join me?"

"I'll stay here if you don't mind. These new shoes are pinching my toes." Mari lifted her foot and rubbed it gingerly. "See you soon." She waved Anne off and watched her for a moment before turning her gaze towards the sea relishing a moment to daydream without fear of being rudely roused by unimaginative teachers. Just as she was getting into the feeling of it though she was interrupted. "Wotcha looking at?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

Mari turned inwardly shaking her head at her inability to find a few minutes to herself but that was soon forgotten when she found herself standing beside a young man. Tousled fair hair barely contained by a cap topped bright blue eyes. He had a white shirt loosely opened down his chest and a pale green kerchief around his neck and he lounged against the railing. Stained black trousers were tied up with a piece of string and he had rough looking unmatched boots. As unkempt as he looked Mari found herself staring, her pulse quickening. "Um, that is to say um, um," she fumbled unable for a moment to find her words. He grinned; he often had that effect upon nice young ladies. He stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "I'm Rob."

Mari blinked a few times; she wasn't supposed to speak with strange gentlemen but this one was very handsome. She was practically grown up after all. She took his proffered hand noticing his self-assured grip and introduced herself. "Mari," he said. "Interesting name, is it Marie or Mary?" Mari sighed; she always hated this part. "No, it's short for something else, as I suppose Rob is."

"Nope," Rob said sniffing. "Just Rob, my folks were too poor for long names."

"Oh." Mari was confused, names weren't doled out according to length, were they?

"So, what was you looking at then?" Rob asked again. "Wish you could go out to sea? It's pretty dangerous for a young lady such as yourself. It's all nice and calm today, but it ain't as much fun when it's blowing a gale and you're up in the rigging hoping you don't get a dipping."

"Oh, I don't know," replied Mari. "I found that rather exhilarating too."

"What? You've been a'sailing?" Rob's voice betrayed his astonishment.

"I have. I was servant to the captain's wife."

"Your captain took his wife along?"

"He did and all the children too." Rob made a gesture to ward off bad luck. Mari smiled, "it was fine, really. We had a wonderful voyage – for the most part." She shuddered momentarily.

"Well, you surprise me, Mari. That doesn't happen often." Rob regarded her with new respect. "Where did this voyage of yours take you?"

Mari described their journey, relishing the retelling of her tale. Her family hadn't been much interested beyond her return and of course Marilla and John had been with her. Anne, naturally had been agog but it was good to share it with a new, interested listener who understood the finer points of how it had been. He interjected now and then with similar exploits though being a sailor he had been more confined to port than she had been. When she got to Melbourne he was really amazed. He glanced left and right to reassure himself that they were alone, "naked really?" he whispered, and she nodded, her eyes flashed with the joy of shocking him. Rob was astounded and he realised that he'd like to see her like that one day and knew without a doubt that that image would sustain him through the long voyage he was shortly to embark upon.

"You from these parts?" Rob asked.

"Not far, a little town a couple of hours away."

"Where?"

"Not far from Carmody."

"Carmody! I know it well; my uncle came from Carmody. Which is your town then?"

"Avonlea," replied Mari.

Nice little spot."

"It's alright, bit boring."

"Not many bathhouses I 'spect," Rob grinned wishing he was brave enough to kiss this beautiful apparition.

"Mari!" Mari turned around to see Anne approaching.

"Um, this is my friend," she said but Rob was withdrawing. "Don't go."

Furtively he said, "I have to, but may I write to you. I ain't much for it, but I don't want to say goodbye neither."

"Of course, address it to Green Gables," she said quickly praising herself for her subterfuge.

"Green Gables, gotcha. I'll be saying farewell then Mari short for something else," he said backing away as Anne approached.

"Who was that?" Anne asked when she came closer.

"No one." For some reason Mari decided she wanted to keep her new friend to herself.

Hugh watched Mrs Blythe as she tended her babies bestowing upon them more care than his mother had ever displayed. The girls were hard work, Susannah toddling around and inquisitive getting into mischief, causing mess wherever she went and the baby Lilly who never slept, or so it seemed to Hugh. Whereas his mother would have lost her temper or subsided into a drug induced daze Mrs Blythe just kept on going, gently correcting Susannah or rocking Lilly to sleep in the afternoon and throughout it all doing the housework. Much as he adored Matthew Hugh found himself drawn to those afternoons with Mrs Blythe where thankfully he never encountered distress. He took to helping out too, playing with Susannah or assisting with the laundry.

Marilla was surprised, her boys had never spent a single moment longer inside than they physically had to, but young Hugh was downright useful to have around and good company too. He never spoke much about his past but reading between the lines she gleaned enough to understand what was missing from his previous life. When she found him softly crying one afternoon bubbling snot glinting in the soft sunlight she stopped mopping, drew her hanky out and poured him a glass of milk and herself a cup of tea. They sat together at the kitchen table in a companionable silence until Hugh's sobs slowed to the odd hiccup. She patted his hand and resumed mopping the half-dried floor.

Though not a word had been spoken Hugh found himself greatly comforted by Mrs Blythe. She did not upbraid him for crying or ask him difficult questions about why he was upset, which he would have had trouble answering anyway. Quietly she had sat beside him and let him work his emotion out.

Once he settled down, she filled a bowl with flour and yeast and water and asked him if he'd ever kneaded dough. He'd watched her at her work before but had never taken part. The process fascinated him though. How these three simple ingredients could change so completely and sustain them through the week. Marilla demonstrated what he had to do, and Hugh mimicked her, clumsily initially but with growing confidence. When the sticky dough adhered to his fingers and he held them up feeling as though he'd failed, Mrs Blythe simply trailed an extra handful of flour through her fingers onto his own and showed him how to rub his hands together to unstick himself explaining that it almost always happened to her too. Impatiently he waited for the dough to rise in its warm spot by the oven and then they inhaled the beautiful smell of baking bread. If Hugh's loaf was not quite as light as Marilla's she did not comment, but merely said it got easier with practice. "Come back and bake with me again, won't you?" she said as she put the remainder of his loaf into a basket for him to take home.

Matthew greeted him warmly. He was sad that Hugh did not appear to enjoy his company these days. He had no idea what was upsetting the lad but knew he would have to get to the bottom of it somehow. Chewing on the slightly tough bread he looked up at the boy. "Is it alright?" Hugh asked.

"Eh?" Matthew said. "It's fine." He looked at the boy's shining eyes watching his every mouthful. "Were you involved with the making of it?" He asked comprehension finally dawning.

"Mrs Blythe done showed me how. My fingers got all gloopy but she unstuck me. 'V you ever made bread Mr er Matthew?"

"Can't say that I have. When Marilla was away, I made do with bought bread or Mrs Lynde took pity on me. This is very good, you know." He watched Hugh fairly light up in a way he'd seldom seen before. "Did you enjoy it?"

Hugh launched into a detailed description of the process which he told with great enthusiasm. Naturally Matthew had a fair idea of the process having watched his mother do it for years and later his sister. "What I don't understand is how it rises, do you Mr Cuthbert?"

"Well now, that is a bit of a mystery to me too. Sensing an opening for their rocky relationship, Matthew said, "how about you and me try to work it out."