At breakfast the day after Anne returned home, she recalled something that the family had recounted. Thinking it might amuse Roy, she broke the silence saying, "oh I must tell you a funny story that happened to Davy." Raising his eyes briefly over the newspaper, Roy nodded at her to continue. "It was just that Marilla sent Davy to buy a new cow. Our Daisy is getting on in years you know, they need more milk than she can provide.

Anyway, Davy felt very important charged with this important task. And the way he told it, the saleyards were full of likely looking beasts. But disaster struck when he was led astray by a couple of gentlemen who persuaded him to take an animal they possessed. The way Davy told it, Roy, it was the funniest thing. He said it was the biggest cow he'd ever seen. He's just a lad yet, being as you know only thirteen whereas it took four full grown men to move this beast. Anyway, when he finally got it home, Marilla took one look at it and told him flatly that he had managed to buy a bullock." Anne lobbed her last line into the centre of the table and leant back in her chair to laugh uproariously. "Poor Davy was most embarrassed as you can imagine. Poor boy, he had set off so proudly and failed so miserably."

"Waste of money, too I wager," Roy said without a glimmer of a smile; even his eyes were humourless. There's none in him, Anne realised with an inward gasp. Maybe when one is so wealthy there's no need. My God, how could I have married such a man. Ploughing on regardless, in the lame hope that he might be amused, she added, "and Marilla said he looked so tiny trying to shoulder the massive beast through the gate. I think," she added, "that on reflection they're not too upset about the money, after all he gave them all a good laugh."

"That's good of Marilla. She'll be out of pocket."

"There are more important things than money, Roy."

"Is there?" After a beat he set down the newspaper saying, "well, I best be off to work. Have a nice day," he added blandly.

Anne watched him go then sighed. She had no plans for the day but thought she might pay Jonas' church a visit; it had been a while.

It was just the same as always, the smell of hopelessness and misery pervaded all but the mood lifted when Anne strode through the hall. Jonas greeted her saying that Phil was not feeling up to it today. "I'll stay here for a bit then I'll sit with her, maybe?" Anne suggested.

"No, I think she just needs to be left alone," Jonas replied. "The morning sickness is taking her pretty strong."

Nodding, Anne set up spot in a corner and listened to stories of woe all morning. She had once asked Phil if she should dress down for the occasion, but Phil had replied that being heard by a woman in stylish dress empowered their parishioners in a manner no one could expect. "They like it, they've all told me. They wonder where you are when you don't come. They look for you, ask me where my friend is. So don't go thinking it's all worthless. If it matters to them, it matters." Anne smiled at the memory of that conversation and then at the woman in front of her. Their concerns put her life into perspective. She may not have been deliriously happy with Roy, but there was never any worry about how to put food on the table.

Taking the long way home Anne was in deep reflection. Walking slowly oblivious to the world around her, she regarded her life as it currently stood. She almost wondered why Roy had proposed to her in the first place. Maybe he just wanted a trophy wife, someone to show off to his society friends. That's never been my style though has it. I'm more than that, I want my own life. I can't be a mere token. She wondered what it had been like for his parents. I can't see Mother Gardner in that role, perhaps she had railed against it too, but then why is she so against my attempts to do likewise, you'd think she would be more supportive, see me in a different light.

I can't say I hate the nice dresses, the wonderful food and the cultural events we attend. It is divine to get dressed for the theatre and walk in on his hand, I won't deny it, but I just wish there were more to it. We enjoy the evening and then we get home, and he doesn't talk to me, we don't even talk about the play or whatever we've seen, or who we've conversed with, or any gossip. I have a better relationship with the clock than I do with him; I know its rhythm better than I do his. What was it Stella said that there wasn't much to him, she sighed. I was so upset at the time, but I think she might have been right. Anne stopped in her tracks and glanced around, hm that park's always been a solace. Maybe I'll sit there a spell, maybe that'll lift my mood. She located a bench underneath an oak tree and absentmindedly watched a resident squirrel running along its branches. I know I'm being selfish, I have so much, I never have to worry about a thing, I have nice clothes, a good education, delicious food. Everything is laid on, except. One of the women at the church earlier that day had said, "we don't have much, but we're happy." And here am I, Anne thought, plucking a stray leaf from the ground and tracing her finger over its veins, I have everything but I'm miserable.

Nothing ever came of Roy's nocturnal exertions. It became a soulless ritual. Anne lay in their bed each night, her nightgown hiked up around her hips while he clambered between her legs and went at her in a steady rhythm. Anne had an expectation of what was supposed to occur as a result of his work, but nothing ever did. Even Roy was getting frustrated. "It's all very well and good," he said one night into the darkness of their bed chamber. "I enjoy it you know. But aren't we supposed to be producing an heir at some point?"

"I'm sorry darling," she replied reaching out to touch his shoulder. "I've no idea why," she swallowed hard, "why nothing's happening."

"Mother wonders if there's something the matter with you."

"Mother? You speak about this sort of thing to your mother?" Anne squeaked in indignation.

"We speak about many things," Roy said rolling over. "She is eager for an heir to the family name, you know. Preferable a boy, naturally, but a girl would also do. She wondered if your impoverished start has anything to do with it?"

"My, my, impoverished…" Bursting into tears Anne was unable to finish her sentence.

"Now, now," Roy said, embarrassed by her outburst of emotion. "I told her it was unlikely that was the problem. I told her we just didn't do it all that often, that you weren't that keen. She suggested we get you examined."

"You lied, Roy. You do it every night."

"Well not every night."

"Most nights."

"Hm, and what use has it been?"

"It's not my fault."

"The woman is the one who bears the baby. Surely, it's up to her to conceive."

"But only with the help of the man."

"Now don't you go blaming me, Anne. I'm doing my best."

Anne sobbed, "I know, I know."

"What do you think of Mother's notion? Should we take you to a doctor?"

"I, I guess so, maybe."

"I'll make the arrangements." Roy sighed and turned away leaving her alone in her distress.

Shyly Anne had asked Phil about the mechanics of pregnancy. Her good friend took her by the arm and explained that the first sign was that the woman ceased to be unwell, "you know, your courses cease. It's such a relief at first. To know you get a break from all that bother."

"So messy," added Anne.

"Indeed, and the laundry."

"Mm, not to mention the pain."

Phil shook her head, "absolutely. Anyway," she added. "One can only really be sure when you feel the quickening, when you feel it move for the first time." She giggled, "the first time I felt it, it felt just like gas bubbling inside, but it didn't pass, and it happened again. It took me an embarrassingly long while to put two and two together. In the end it was Mrs Potts, you know at the church, who declared I was in the family way. Then I realised what I'd been feeling all along." Anne laughed, concerned that she might never get the opportunity to find out.

Anne grew sick with the thought of her examination. The idea of a man, even if he were a doctor, looking at her most private parts was, frankly, terrifying. Brought up to believe it was her most sacred place, one which had to be protected at all costs. The concept of a stranger, no matter how qualified, examining down there was just wrong. Roy never looked at it, so why should a strange doctor. Tense, Anne found it hard to sleep nights as her stomach cramped with anxiety.

The day came all too soon. She was unpleasantly surprised when Mother Gardner swept into her bed chamber with that distinctive crackle of her taffeta skirts and the click of her boots. "You're not ready, it's time we were away," she demanded by way of greeting. "Away?" Anne quaked, annoyed at her own reaction. She had a lot on her mind, the last thing she needed was her mother-in-law. "Yes, away. Roy asked me to accompany you to the Doctor." Roy had… Anne blinked rapidly. "Oh, he didn't say anything to me."

"No? Well, we've been discussing it in some detail. Now time to get ready."

Bewildered by the myriads of information Mother Gardner had thus imparted; namely that Roy discussed their private life with his mother, that they talked at all, when Anne and Roy barely spoke these days, and that she would be escorting her today Anne quickly got herself dressed feeling her day slipping beyond her control.

Her arm tucked uncomfortably in Mother's; Anne stood by as her mother-in-law rapped on the Doctor's shiny black door in one of the better neighbourhoods. It was surreal, Anne felt rather dazed as a conversation took place which appeared to involve her not at all, in fact the doctor, a weedy little man hardly even met her eyes, let alone addressed her.

It's as if all I am is a womb to them, Anne thought as she was pressed down onto an examination couch. Divested of her skirts and petticoats, her ankles were placed into stirrups on either side of the bed. Feeling wildly embarrassed and vulnerable Anne inhaled a sharp breath when the icy cold speculum touched her in the most private of spots. "Hush," Mother Gardner hissed by her shoulder. "The Doctor is a professional. He'll get to the bottom of this."

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your perspective the word bottom woke Anne up. Giggling she started shaking uncontrollably. Annoyed the Doctor paused looking at Mrs Gardner who clutched Anne's shoulder painfully, "stop that. Doctor McIntyre is trying to do his job." Unfortunately, her words had no effect and in the end the doctor had to pull away as Anne shuddered with suppressed laughter. "Foolish girl," Mrs Gardner snapped when they found themselves back on the street. "Now we'll never know. If you could have just kept your composure." Anne was not contrite, rather she felt as if her sense of humour had saved her; she could still feel the chill of the metal and shuddered inwardly.

Anne's courses were usually regular. At the same time every month she would see the familiar spot of blood in her drawers or the chamber pot. Before she got married it had been a familiar warning of pain and extra laundry. More recently a signal that once again nothing had happened. Anne came to dread that time of the month whereas for a while she had been eager to check, now she regarded the pot with desolation.

Until.

Each day that week she checked and each day the tell-tale spot of blood was absent. Could she be? Had it happened? She did nothing, said nothing. It was too soon anyway, it might just be late, she told herself. Give it a while longer before you say. She knew from her childhood that sometimes things did not go as planned. Holding her breath almost, willing nothing else to happen, that the blood would not come; with each passing day her excitement grew.

Eventually she could wait no longer. Roy had left that morning as he usually did, grunting that he would be back for dinner and hoping that she would have a pleasant day. When the chamber pot stayed clean, Anne determined it had been long enough. She was longing to break the happy tidings, to see the look on his face when he realised their long looked for conception had at last taken place and they could start planning their future as a family.

Ordinarily Roy arrived home half an hour before dinner. Anne would meet him at the door, taking his hat and coat, and if necessary, placing his umbrella by the door. Usually exhausted, she knew better than to pepper him with questions. She waited impatiently in the parlour for his arrival, unable to settle. Imagining his reaction she smiled in anticipation. The hour of his expected arrival came and went. Nancy came in at one point asking if she had received any news and wondering what to do about the meal. Anne had no idea. Roy for all his faults, had never been late home for dinner. As time passed, Anne's imagination shifted from baby news to disaster.

It was a relief to hear a sharp knocking on the front door, though it was frustrating to have to wait until one of the servants opened it. Anne got to her feet to receive the news from a smartly dressed police constable which she heard without comprehension.