Hello Friends!

I am very happy to be updating this story, and sorry I left everyone hanging for a time!

Love

MrsVonTrapp x

Chapter Thirty Nine

'Thank goodness air and salvation are still free'

Gilbert hammered on the front door of Patty's Place. He couldn't remember the last time Anne hadn't flung it open to him in welcome virtually as he bounded up the step. Or racing her after their ramble back through the park, breathless and smelling of the pine needles they had crushed beneath their feet. Or sailing with her through it, still debating their day. Or kissing her senseless under the porch light in the dreamy darkness before farewelling her for the evening.

Now, he knocked impatiently as any stranger.

A dark-haired girl with black eyes warily answered, and he was grateful at least for this, because of all the denizens of Patty's Place, Stella was likely to be the most accommodating to him now.

"Stella!" he lost no time, pleading in a rush. "Can I please just talk with her for a minute?"

"Gilbert…" Stella sighed, leaning against the door, only having opened it a reluctant sliver. "I don't think that is a very good idea at present."

"Who is it?" came a too-familiar voice, made strident through evident confusion and worry. Stella gave him a look akin to a maritime warning, opening the door wider.

"Gilbert Blythe!" Phil's normally merry brown eyes flashed with fury. "What in God's name have you done?"

"Phil… I would explain… but it's best if I please talk to Anne!"

"Anne is in no fit state to entertain visitors at present, Mr Blythe," Phil was impressively waspish. "She has been up in her room crying solidly for an hour!"

His heart sank to his shoes.

"Did she say… did she say what happened?" he gulped.

"No. None of us have been able to get it out of her. Pris is with her at the moment and might have more luck. Would you care to enlighten us?"

His look was so sad and shamefaced that Phil's eyes narrowed.

"If you must talk to someone, you might as well talk to me. We can take a walk – I'll just get my coat."

"Well, then… thank you…" his voice rumbled, low and agonized. Phil departed and Stella gave him a sad shake of her head before leaving him where he stood, Gilbert implicitly understanding that he was currently denied entry and not prepared to try his luck by pressing the point further. As Phil reemerged she noted him having taken steps backwards, trying to ascertain if he could see any movement behind the upstairs curtains, though Anne's room did not look out onto the street at any rate.

"Planning to climb up to her balcony?" Phil crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Oh, he longed, in this moment, for the comparatively carefree days of their study of Shakespeare.

"Phil…" he passed an agitated hand through his dark curls, tugging vigorously. "Tell me what to do to fix this! Please!"

"Well, Gilbert, that all depends on what was done in the first place!"

Miss Gordon began to stomp around the back towards the orchard, but he took her sleeve and shook his head furiously. "Not around back," he indicated tersely, having no wish to have Anne overlook them talking about her.

Phil sighed grievously and followed him down the path towards the pines.

"Right, Gilbert, tell me what this was all about, though I can guess the essentials."

He plunged his hands deep into his pockets, well beyond the point of denying there had been any difficulty in the first place.

"There is no reason for her to go off to Avonlea," he began rather tersely.

"Unfortunately, there is every reason. You know that as well as I."

He sighed. "She shouldn't be on her own, there."

"She won't be on her own. She'll be with the Cuthberts and with Tom."

"And that's somehow appropriate? Even after her history with Tom? Even though she's courting me?"

"Ah, so now we get down to it! And where, with no viable teacher's residence and Diana busy with the wedding, is she to stay instead? With your parents?" she rolled her brown eyes, but as Gilbert's posture stiffened she gave him a sharp look. "Oh please say you did not suggest your parents!"

"And how is that any more inappropriate?" he protested mulishly.

Phil looked to the heavens, clearly flabbergasted. "Because it's far worse, Gilbert! It suggests a much deeper understanding than you have with her at the moment. It virtually screams certain intentions. People would think you were to be married! They'd expect it!"

Gilbert had pulled up short, face very still and eyes averted.

Phil stopped too, noting his guilty demeanor. Her mouth dropped open.

"Oh good God, Gil, you didn't," she breathed.

He flicked her a glance, full of pain.

"Oh, Gilbert…" Phil murmured, shaking her head as if to rid herself of her sudden understanding. "You didn't go and ask Anne to marry you?"

He hunched into himself, stalking forward, his silence as damning as a confession.

"Gilbert Blythe! For an intelligent man you are a complete idiot!" she shouted after him.

Gilbert turned sharply on his heel.

"And how is it so idiotic, Phil? I love her. She loves me. We belong together. I know that and you know that and the whole of Redmond knows that! I was always going to ask her to marry me. It was only a question of when and how!"

"And the when and how are delightful details here, aren't they?" Phil shot back at him. "None of us want her to have to go. I would have given her whatever money she needed, now and for the next two years! But that would be the surest way to batter her pride and strip her of her dignity. And we none of us have the right to do that, Gilbert, however kindly it is meant…" she paused. "Not even you."

His expression fell in on itself, his face white to the lips. *

"Phil…" he gasped. "Please tell me that's not how she views this!"

Phil's anger dissipated in seeing his obvious distress.

"Gilbert…" she attempted, more kindly, her eyes softening. "Anne values her independence, we know. But more than that, it has often been the only thing she's had to fall back on. Without the feeling she is making her own way and making her own decisions, she might as well be back at that dreadful orphanage, or sent pillar to post to whomever would house her when she was young. Coming to Redmond for her wasn't a pleasant diversion for a few years, before she decided her future. It was the way she planned to ensure her future. So that she would never be indebted to anyone…"

Phil paused, knowing the next part was going to be hard to say – and even harder to hear.

"And now…" she continued resignedly, "instead of letting her do that with understanding and good grace, you have tried to take all her decisions away from her. Hoping to install her in your parents' house before she's ready – and let's face it, before you are – and having her dependent on you and them, all because you're jealous and scared and desperate to tie her to you."

The silence was awful, and the cold December breeze buffeted the pines and whipped at their hair. Gilbert's eyes on hers blistered and he seemed to age five years right in front of her. Observing him flinch as the awful dawning realization of her accusations rained on him as bullets, Phil was suddenly eager to take some of the sting out of her words.

"And for the most romantic couple I know," she smiled sadly, burrowing further into her coat, "marry me Anne because I hate you having to leave me" is right up there with the most unromantic proposal ever."

Gilbert only shuddered in reply, staggering towards the slope leading down to the park. Phil was suddenly fearful he might keep walking and tumble down it completely, but at the last minute he collapsed on hard ground, knees up and head falling forward to anchor itself on his forearms.

"Gil…" Phil followed him, uneasy.

"So I've ruined everything…" he muttered savagely, almost to himself.

"Gil… just let things settle. Just give her a little time…"

"And what if she doesn't want to ever see me again?"

"I very much doubt that will happen," Phil's crooked smile played about her lips, and she crouched down beside him. "She loves you. And she knows you love her. You'll get through this."

Gilbert was desperate to believe her, but he knew, intrinsically, that something between him and Anne had shifted… had moved out of his grasp.

"Please, Phil, just leave me," his voice was hoarse with self-loathing, the tears welling in his eyes and the strain of holding them back tightening his throat. "Go be with her. Tell her I love her. Tell her I'm sorry. And tell her…" his intake of breath was sharp, and it sliced right through him, "that she was right to refuse me."

Anne felt drained of all tears, as if she was a giant dishrag that had been rung and rung again, with not a drop of moisture left. She felt weak and sick to her stomach, and her head throbbed. She knew without the confirmation of the glass that her face would be a red, blotchy mess; a patchwork of sadness and disappointment.

She was sipping water, urged on by Pris, when Phil rejoined them, Aunt Jimsie and Stella having hovered in support on the periphery of her beloved blue room. Phil exchanged an unseen look with Pris before the latter withdrew, and Phil joined her on the bed.

"He was here, wasn't he?" Anne enquired, her voice a ragged husk, throat tight and painful.

"Yes, honey," Phil sighed. "I left him by the slope leading to the park, voicing his regret to the pine trees."

"So then… you know?" Anne croaked.

"I know that he's made a complete ass of himself? Yes, darling. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you. That he's sorry. And that… you were right to refuse him."

Anne's eyes burned. "Do you think… I was right to refuse him?"

Phil took her hand and squeezed tightly. "Only you can know that, darling. You refused him for the right reasons. You refused him for you and for him. Neither of you were ready. He really wasn't in his senses. He is beginning to understand all that now."

Anne shuddered. "I wish it had never happened, Phil! I felt wretched to refuse him, but he caught me so unawares, and I just panicked!"

"I think Gil did, too…" Phil offered kindly.

"Why can't he just see that I need to go and do this? That I need to do this on my own? Doesn't he trust me?"

"I'm afraid those are questions for him, sweetie. Though to be fair, I don't think it is a matter of trust so much as an overprotectiveness, and a very overdeveloped sense of honour. We are talking about Gilbert here, the fellow who paid ten dollars not to dance with you!"

Anne groaned, falling back onto the pillow, hugging a cushion to her.

"Phil, what do we do now?"

"I'm afraid I can't answer that one, either," her friend replied, unrepentantly.

Just at the point where his posterior was turning numb, alongside most of his extremities, and he really thought he should just give up on himself and go home, there was a soft footfall to his right. He turned to see a slight figure wrapped in her coat, looking down on him with a fathomless expression.

"Gilbert…"

"Anne!" he leapt up as a scalded cat, wincing almost immediately as his long limbs protested this unscheduled movement, searching her pale, pinched face. "Oh, Anne, I'm so sorry! It was all so rash and thoughtless of me and I never meant to upset you!" He had followed her home, all the way from the college, she refusing to have him accompany her properly and him wretched over her constant weeping.

"Gilbert!" she lay a hand on his arm. "I know."

"Please tell me I haven't ruined things between us…" he almost begged.

"Gil… it won't do any good to thrash things out now. I don't think either of us are up to it," she passed a hand through her mussed hair, and then rubbed at her forehead. "Let's just both get some rest and talk tomorrow."

"As you wish, Anne. Whatever you wish, I'll do it."

"Will you come back here? I can make sure the girls give us some privacy."

He nodded, throat closing over.

"Then go home, please Gil," she gave a wan smile which tried hard to be encouraging.

He took his leave, like the abashed, foolish schoolboy he felt. He desperately wanted to take her in his arms, but it wasn't the time or the place. The story of his life.

Aunt Jimsie, for obvious reasons – made even more obvious now – remained in the house, but the following afternoon the other girls had made themselves scarce. It was the day before term ended and he and Anne should have been enjoying the pre-Christmas activities on campus, instead of holding a meeting on their future in the kitchen of Patty's Place.

Anne looked grave and pale but composed. This, at least, was an improvement on yesterday. She busied herself with tea, though thankfully offered nothing edible, as he doubted he could get anything down. He had replayed the scene over and over in his head and what he could have done differently. Kept my mouth shut figured in most of his responses.

"Gil… I don't quite know what to do here, except I do think we need to talk though this…" she determined.

"Of course. It's a good idea."

"Now that we are calmer, and have had the chance to take a breath," Anne continued.

He nodded solemnly. "Would you like to go first?"

She took a shuddering breath, her emotions still close to the surface.

"Firstly, Gilbert, I do thank you, most sincerely, for the honour of your proposal."

"Anne, there's no need to thank me… I don't deserve it."

"Gilbert - please let me at least acknowledge it!"

He blew out a breath. "Of course."

"And I am sorry that I…" she hesitated, lips quivering, "that I had to refuse you…"

He swallowed, hard. "As I said to Phil yesterday, you were right to refuse me."

"But Gilbert… you do realize why?"

He finally met her eyes. "Anne, do we really need to rehash it? Isn't the situation currently painful enough for both of us?"

She took another uneven breath, blinking back tears.

"I know it is. But Gilbert, I just need you to know that it's not that I don't love you or that I wouldn't want a… well, a future with you…"

He fiddled awkwardly with his teacup, tracing the rim with his thumb.

"I know, Anne. I'm sorry. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong everything."

He took a sip of tea, as much for the distraction as anything. He knew that she wanted to say more, but he also knew he very likely did not want to hear it.

Anne was biting her lip, appearing agonized.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my problems earlier, Gilbert," she acknowledged, rather mournfully. "It wasn't fair of me. You had a lot to process and I… I feel.. I may have pushed you into things…"

"You think I don't know my own mind? That I just… proposed… because you were leaving?"

"Not exactly…" she hedged.

"Then what exactly, Anne-girl?" he sighed.

"I think… perhaps… you wanted to solve the problem, Gilbert. Any way you still could. But this time you can't… and it's not your problem to solve, regardless."

"Well yes, Anne," he replied, darkly. "You made it not my problem, and Tom became the hero instead."

"Gilbert! It's not like that!"

"Look, he came up with a solution for you, and I'm grateful to him. But you won't let me help at all, Anne! I'm courting you and it should be me who is the first one you turn to! Instead it seems I'm barely even informed!"

"So, basically, your pride is hurt?" she flared suddenly.

"No! If I'm honest, my heart is hurt! I'm sad and disappointed you didn't come to me, for whatever reason! I'm devastated that you have to leave! I'm in agony at the thought of not being with you!"

"Well, Gilbert, I'm devastated that you seem to have flung a proposal at me without even thinking! I'm sad and disappointed that you don't trust me to take care of things myself as an independent person not under your protection! And I'm in agony at the thought you don't think our relationship is strong enough to survive a little separation!"

"I never said that! And it's not a little separation, Anne – it's half the year!"

Their raised voices brought forth Aunt Jimsie, who came from the direction of the parlour and stood uncertainly in the doorway.

"I'm sorry for the shouting, Aunt Jimsie!" Anne was instantly contrite.

"I apologize, Aunt Jimsie…" Gilbert murmured, leaping from his chair and flushing scarlet.

"May I suggest," Jimsie cast a knowing glance over the warring couple, "that you both drink your tea, and forget about what's happened. You can't change it, so no use crying over it. Talk about what you want for the future. See if you both want the same things, and if you do, have a plan for them."

The extraordinary common sense behind these instructions could not be refuted, and awkwardly, they both attempted to comply. Gilbert resumed his seat, taking his tea with great flourish and a gleam in his eye, making Anne laugh despite herself, and encouraged, he took her hand, clasping it to him.

"I apologize to you, too," he offered sheepishly. "I became too heated, there. I'm proud of your independence, Anne. I admire it more than you can know."

"Thank you," she answered quietly. "I'm sorry for my own temper, Gilbert. I didn't mean that remark about your pride being hurt…"

"Don't worry. And you were right, anyway, though I'm shamed to admit it. My pride did take a battering. But that's my problem to solve, not yours."

"I think that takes us back to where we started…" Anne gave an uncertain smile.

Gilbert shook his head in chagrin, raising her hand to his lips.

"Anne…" he attempted throatily. "About my proposal…"

"Gil…" she reached her free hand to lean across the table, lightly tracing her fingers down one lean cheek. "Let's not try to problem-solve that. Let's just leave things as they are."

"Like a book we put back on the shelf, for now?" his eyes flared with feeling.

Caught unawares by the long-ago image, Anne couldn't help her reaction.

"Yes…" she smiled through the inevitable waterfall of tears. "Exactly that."

Chapter Notes

Wit and wisdom from Aunt Jimsie aplenty in this chapter! The chapter title is care of everyone's favourite chaperone and den mother, from Anne of the Island Ch 17 'A Letter from Davy'.

*Anne of the Island Ch 20 'Gilbert Speaks'.

And some correspondence…

yunarthur: Gorgeous thing, I loved this reaction! How could I know that this chapter was Not Safe For Work?!

Guest of Jan 17th (Ch 38): You are very welcome! Thanks for reading and commenting!

Guest #1 of Jan 18th (Ch 38): Dear Guest – I adored your musings on this chapter and thank you so much for sharing them! Never keep them to yourself as they are brilliant! Firstly, it never occurred to me to link the lack of scholarship to the Gardners in any way but that really is stroke of genius and fits the timeline and I am officially borrowing it! Thank you also for your lovely thoughts regarding Anne seeing Gilbert's room and all the beautiful, sentimental souvenirs and tidbits he may have sequestered there! (we know from canon that Gilbert has a secret sentimentality). I am still attempting to find a way to make it happen! Thank you for your lovely engagement with this story x

Guest #2 of Jan 18th (Ch 38): Gilbert did indeed 'go nuclear' with his reaction, dear Guest, and I love your phrasing here and the musings about the possible 'fallout' that may ensue! Though please don't feel badly – it wasn't your fault lol! It is well-observed, though, to note Rachel's reaction – believe me, she will have THOUGHTS on the matter, as she always does, but she has a soft spot for Tom and is forever indebted to him regarding his help before the death of her Thomas in this story, and that goes a long way with her. I hope you can continue to follow as events unfold, and thank you so much for your insights!

Guest of Jan 19th (Ch 38): Hello Guest, and thank you for your review and your very on-point musings! You are absolutely right about both Gilbert's jealousy and Tom's secret satisfaction in still being able to be there for Anne – although I would still claim at this stage that Tom is the more altruistic of the two. You are also right about Gilbert's newspaper stint – that comes in canon during the summer at the end of their second year, and will surely be repurposed by me in some way! As for Roy… I really couldn't say at this stage, but watch this space!

Guest of Feb 8th (Ch 38): Thank you so much, dear Guest! Sorry for the wait!