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Where the Stars are Strange. For JoS from Santa. 1.1

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The CBB -> St Agnes' House

#1: Where the Stars are Strange. For JoS from Santa. 1.1 Author: Secret Santa, Location: The North Pole

Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:51 am
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Biddy O’Ryan stood on the verandah of the homestead on Burra-Burra station and listened to the noise of the cicadas – piercingly shrill even at this early hour of the day. She gazed round at the immense blue bowl of the sky and the thousand shades of green and brown that stretched towards the horizon and shook her head wonderingly.
“And to think that they’re having rain and sleet and fog in England,” she said aloud. Footsteps sounded from behind her, and she turned to see Mavis Grant, leaning on her father’s arm, and making her way slowly toward the settler’s chair near the railings where she spent most her days now.
“Good morning, Biddy,” she called merrily, then paused while she arranged herself carefully in her chair. Everything that Mavis did made such demands on her strength, but despite that, she was still cheerful. Biddy was never quite certain whether Mavis had truly accepted the doctors’ diagnosis – that her heart had been irremediably damaged by damp and cold and over-exertion in England, and that she had come home to Australia only to die. “Sure, she wouldn’t be so blithe about things if she did believe her life was ending,” Biddy commented to herself time and again. But occasionally, she noticed a lonely bleakness in Mavis’ brown eyes that made her wonder….

Certainly, there was nothing sad about Mavis this morning; with Christmas only two days away, she was at her happiest, busily informing Biddy of just how the time would be spent.
“We’ll take the car into Weroona this morning,” she said. “There’ll be a lot of mail at the Post Office, as we haven’t been in since last week. Besides, there’s the groceries to collect - and the fruit - and it wouldn’t surprise me if a few boxes and parcels arrived on the train this morning.” She looked up enquiringly at her father. “Were you planning to go in, Dad? Because if you were, then Biddy could go with you, and see what Weroona looks like at Christmas. She ought to; after all it’s her first Christmas in Australia!” Mr Grant thought for a moment.
“That might not be a bad idea,” he said. “I’m expecting something by the train, and it’s not as if Miss Bridget will take up so much room in the car!” He smiled down at the girl who had so willingly left her home to accompany his daughter halfway round the world, and who had become a great favourite in his household.
“That’s settled then,” said Mavis happily. “Oh Dad, do you think there’ll be anything from Charlie? He’s never left it so late before.”
“Your Uncle Tom keeps him pretty busy, you know; he’s probably pursuing cattle even as we speak,” remarked her father – with a twinkle in his eye that neither of them noticed. “Now, Biddy, if you’re coming, be round by the kitchen door in ten minutes!”
“Will you be alright if I do go?” asked Biddy. Mavis smiled.
“Of course I will; I’ll stay right here and rest. I don’t want to be tired for this afternoon!”
“Why, what will be happening this afternoon?”
“Decorating,” replied Mavis succinctly, and refused to be drawn any further.

Last edited by Secret Santa on Mon Jan 01, 2007 7:01 am; edited 6 times in total

#2: Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK

Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 10:36 am
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This is lovely! I've often wondered about Biddy's time in Oz.

#3: Author: wheelchairprincess, Location: Oxfordshire, UK

Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 1:49 pm
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Biddy's time "down under" always intrigued me too. Especially after I spent Christmas out there in 1998.

#4: Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 4:37 pm
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That was gorgeous, Santa. I did like the little descriptions of life down under. And Biddy seems so happy, despite being so far away from home.

But how tragic for poor Mavis - and the lonely bleakness in her eyes. But Biddy will make sure she has a joyous Christmas, I'm sure.

#5: Author: Jennie, Location: Cambridgeshire

Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:32 pm
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Thanks, it's good to see more of Biddy.

#6: Author: Elder in Ontario, Location: Ontario, Canada

Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 9:54 pm
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Thanks, Santa - it's good to find out more about Biddy's time Down Under than the very few lines which EBD devoted to her experience. And it will be great to see an Aussie Christmas celebration described, too.

#7: Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW

Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 10:30 pm
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Thank you Santa! An Australian Christmas too!

#8: Author: Tara, Location: Malvern, Worcestershire

Posted: Tue Dec 05, 2006 11:01 pm
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Lovely idea.

#9: Author: Secret Santa, Location: The North Pole

Posted: Fri Dec 08, 2006 11:39 am
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The elves are all working hard at the moment, so I can add a little more to this.

Biddy had been a little unnerved by her first sight of Weroona; when she had arrived with Mavis in late August, the town had been starved of rain for almost four weeks and was consequently, dry, and dusty. The westerly wind that blew in straight from the desert was gritty and uncomfortable, and was, she discovered, apt to set people’s tempers on edge. There appeared to be no bright colours anywhere, and the bush through which they travelled to reach Burra Burra, was endless dull shades of green and grey, and appeared to her eyes to be very unwelcoming.
But since then, things had altered considerably; the spring rains had come, and had transformed both the town, and to a lesser extent, the bush. The town had grown greener and greener as summer approached, and when first the flame trees and then the jacarandas that dotted the high street had flowered, Biddy had been entranced by the glorious array of colour. However today, she was fascinated by the sparkling decorations and Christmas displays that had appeared in the various windows, by the strings of coloured lights that the Post Office, General Store and the two or three other commercial premises had festooned around their various signs and by the numbers of people and the general bonhomie that they were exhibiting.
“Well, ‘tis not much like England,” she said thoughtfully. “Sure, sometimes you wonder who won the war!”
“It’s not that bad, is it Biddy?” said twelve year old Marion, third-youngest of the family and newly returned from her first year at boarding school. Biddy thought for a moment.
“Well, there’s still rationing, you know,” she replied. “And things like furniture are very scarce – unless you want the utility things. Then there’s the bomb damage. There’s none of that here.” Marion stared at her, eyes round with surprise.
“I never really thought of that; I suppose we’re lucky here – yes, what is it Daddy?”
“Just the order for Mr Rossiter. Can you run in with it and tell him we’ll be by after we’ve been to the station and Post Office?” Marion grasped the piece of paper he was proffering to her, and slid swiftly out of the car. Two minutes later, she was back, proclaiming,
“He says he’ll have it all in boxes for us – and if there’s some peaches on the train, they’re for him and can we bring them with us?” Her father grinned.
“Only if there’s room in the car,” he said. Marion giggled.
“There won’t be that much for us on the train, Daddy!”
“You never know,” Mr Grant replied serenely. Biddy caught sight of a twinkle in his eye, and wondered at it. Then they were driving into the station yard, coming to a halt just as the signal changed and the train steamed in.
“Off you go, Marion,” said Mr Grant. “See if anything has arrived for us.” Puzzled, Marion climbed out of the car, and turned to face her father,
“But Daddy, how will I know?” she asked.
“Oh, I think you’ll recognise it” her replied, and Marion went towards the entrance to the platform, staring round in some bewilderment. Just as she reached the ticket office, a tall fair-haired young man carrying a case came bounding down the stairs, and the air was spilt by a shriek of “Charlie!!”

A broad grin split Mr Grant's tanned face and he leapt out of the car just as the young man reached it, Marion bouncing excitedly at his side. Biddy climbed out too, feeling somewhat shy - she had heard a lot about Mavis's older brother - almost too much in fact. "Oh, don't be so silly now, Bridget Honora O'Ryan," she told herself firmly, and held out her hand in greeting.

#10: Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner

Posted: Fri Dec 08, 2006 11:57 am
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How lovely to see a picture of a sunny Australia amidst our mostly awful English weather at the moment. Thanks, JoS's Santa.

#11: Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England

Posted: Fri Dec 08, 2006 1:26 pm
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Ooooh, I wonder what Charlie's like ...

Thanks JoS's Santa Very Happy

#12: Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Fri Dec 08, 2006 2:01 pm
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That description of the changes in the weather and how it affected Biddy was perfect, Santa. I loved her wry comment -

"Well, ‘tis not much like England,” she said thoughtfully. “Sure, sometimes you wonder who won the war!”

And are we about to espy a little romance for her, I wonder, with this handsome hunk.... Laughing

Thanks, Santa. This is lovely.

#13: Where stars are strange Author: Fiona Mc, Location: Bendigo, Australia

Posted: Fri Dec 08, 2006 9:56 pm
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This is great. Am loving Biddy's views on Australia

#14: Author: Secret Santa, Location: The North Pole

Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 12:29 pm
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The elves have just brought coffee and biscuits, so while I'm not needed in ther workshop, I'll post some more..

“So you’re Bridget O’Ryan,” said the young man, smiling down at this dark-haired Irish girl, who had so willingly left her home because a friend needed her. “I’m Charles, usually known as Charlie. Mavis has told me a lot about you.” Biddy blushed, her self-possession deserting her, and it was left to Mr Grant to complete the introduction.
“Oh, Biddy’s become a friend to all of us,” he said. “And we’re looking forward to showing her a real Australian Christmas.”
“That sounds an excellent idea,” replied Charlie, as he stepped into the car. “Where do we start?”
“At the Post Office,” said his father firmly. “Then to Rossiter’s, and then home.”

It took them well over an hour to finish their errands in town; they would have been faster, but for the cheerful greetings called by acquaintances as they drove from the station to the Post Office and then to the store. Several times, they halted to talk to friends of the Grants who rarely came in to town and so had to be given as much of the family news as was possible in a short space of time - although Biddy noticed that the subject of Mavis’s health was not touched on. Invariably, there were pleased exclamations when Charlie was sighted, and when two old school friends spotted him, there were yells of delight that could be heard clear across the street. Each introduction of Biddy brought an immediate invitation from whoever it was they were speaking to and by the time they were heading home, in a car laden with groceries and mail, Biddy’s head was spinning and she had lost count of the lunches, dinners, picnics and dances that she had been asked to attend.
“Tis very generous – and welcoming - that you are here,” she said slowly. Mr Grant glanced at her.
“We pride ourselves on welcoming strangers,” he said quietly. “And Australia is a good place to be at the moment, and we’re proud of our homes and country - so we want visitors to see it and understand it.”
“Besides,” added Charlie, “It’s Christmas!”

After the initial flurry of surprised and delighted welcome was over, Biddy went to read her mail in the quietness of her room and allow the Grants a chance to talk to Charlie. She had not missed the expression of shock that had briefly crossed his face when he first beheld Mavis, although her joy at seeing him had given her face unusual colour and from her laughing talk, nobody would have guessed that there was anything amiss, although she was soon tired. The cheerful conversation of the younger Grants – in addition to Mavis and Charlie, there were three younger sisters and another boy – allowed her to sit quietly and observe her brothers and sisters, and finally, Biddy suggested that she might want to go to her room to rest.
“I want to see what the mail has brought me,” she said. “And ‘tis certain I am that there’s a lot to be said here yet.” Mavis smiled and nodded, and they left the room together.

Biddy found that she had received a number of cards and letters from England, together with some small parcels that she put aside to open on Christmas morning. There were cards from the Russells and Maynards, and a long letter from Daisy Venables, herself partway through her medical training, giving her all the news that she could gather of friends and acquaintances. Elizabeth Arnett had also written to her, as had Mary Shand. And there were cards and letters from Hilda Annersley and Nell Wilson, both of whom, but especially the latter, had had much to do with Biddy from her earliest days in the school. She was amused to see that almost without exception everyone mentioned the quite dreadful weather that was plaguing Britain at the moment – Nell Wilson was particularly bitter on the subject – and everyone apart from Daisy mentioned the continuing difficulties of the shortages and restrictions. For the second time that day, Biddy felt that Australia was a very lucky country.

#15: Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 2:10 pm
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What a lovely time she is having, and how welcoming they all are. But that happiness contrasts sadly with Charlie's shock on seeing his sister. Crying or Very sad

I did chuckle over Nell's comments on the weather in England! Laughing

Thanks, Santa - and elves. Laughing

#16: Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester

Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 4:32 pm
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Thanks Santa!

*Looks out of the window at the rain!*

#17: Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England

Posted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 6:31 pm
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This is fab, but it isn't half making me feel cold!

Thanks, Santa Very Happy

#18: Author: Secret Santa, Location: The North Pole

Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 12:16 pm
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Here you are Jo, a little more for you!

After opening her mail, Biddy stayed in her room for most of the afternoon to allow Mr and Mrs Grant an opportunity to explain to Charlie precisely how matters stood. When she finally made her way to where the family were gathered on the verandah for an early afternoon tea, she found that Mavis had not yet joined them and that while the three younger children were in riotous spirits the others were quiet. Charlie was standing a little apart from his parents and younger siblings holding a cup and staring out into the garden, obviously seeing nothing. He glanced once at Biddy, who at once recognised the anger and pain that he was trying so hard to control.
“Ah, the poor lad, this is probably the first hard thing that he’s really encountered,” she thought sadly. “Tis to be hoped he can get beyond this - at least for Christmas.” With this in mind she picked up her cup and went to join him, apparently unmindful of the scowl he turned on her.
“It’s getting hot,” she observed cheerfully.
“Yes,” he grunted, hunching up a shoulder and turning away from her. Biddy surveyed him thoughtfully.
“Charlie, I know it’s difficult,” she began, but got no further. With a sudden gesture of fury, he turned on her.
“Difficult? I’ve been told my sister’s dying, and you say it’s ‘difficult’! She isn’t going to die, I won’t let her! She’s too young and she hasn’t had any life yet and - and it isn’t fair!”
“Life often isn’t,” remarked Biddy quietly.
“What would you know about that?” he shot back at her. “You with your health, and Oxford, and privilege?” He banged his cup down on the nearby table and left the verandah.
“Oh dear,” said Mrs Grant into the awkward silence that ensued. “I’m sorry you came in for that, Biddy. I knew he wasn’t taking it well, but I didn’t expect him to be rude. I do apologise!” Biddy shook her head.
“Please don’t worry, Mrs Grant,” she said in her soft voice. “Sure, he wasn’t really angry with me – he’s angry with everything, and I was just there. Don’t you be worrying about him; I’ll have a talk to him later.” She smiled round reassuringly at the younger children, startled by the sudden shouting, especially small Lydia, who was on the verge of tears.
“Now, don’t you be crying,” she said, “and I’ll tell you the story of Coreena and the shamrocks in a while.” Not wishing to be deprived of this treat, Lydia swallowed down her tears and soon she and her sisters and brother had forgotten the small contretemps and resumed their excited discussion of just who was going to hang the decorations on the tree and what Santa might bring them on Christmas morning.

Charlie did not put in an appearance until just before dinner – which was early that evening as the decorating of the Christmas tree would follow immediately afterwards. Mr Grant had set up the Christmas tree just inside the living room and the boxes of decorations stood ready beside it. Charlie and he had spent a few minutes checking that the fairy lights worked and Lydia had been told that she could hang the three silver snowflakes that were her particular delight. Marion had asked Mavis to ask as supervisor as she would be able sit in her chair and direct operations, and it had been unanimously decided that Biddy would have the honour of switching on the lights when the tree was ready. No one had been quite sure whether Charlie would join them for the meal – it was, Biddy gathered, the rarest thing ion the world for him to lose his temper, but when he did, he was slow to forget it. However, just as Mrs Grant and Sarah, her kitchen assistant, were bringing in the dishes of vegetables, they heard the careful closing of a door, and a moment later, Charlie, white of face and stern of expression, but otherwise displaying no sign that anything was wrong was sitting in his usual place beside Mavis. He made no attempt to speak to anyone during the meal, and Mavis an biddy were also quiet,but the excited chatter of the children and the determined cheerfulness of Mr and Mrs Grant masked the unusual silence of their eldest children and their guest.

#19: Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner

Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 1:03 pm
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How awkward for everybody, I hope Charlie can manage to control himself for Christmas. Thanks, JoS's Santa.

#20: Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England

Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 2:29 pm
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I think Charlie might have a few things to learn about Biddy!

Thanks, JoS's Santa

#21: Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England

Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 5:44 pm
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This is lovely Santa, thank you for writing such a brilliant story.

#22: Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 7:54 pm
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Oh, poor Charlie, stunned at how life can turn so cold and painful.
Crying or Very sad

But Biddy will work her magic and help him get through it, even if she can't take it away.

Thanks, Santa.

#23: Author: JoS, Location: South Africa

Posted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 8:41 pm
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Santa - THANK YOU so much. I am honoured. I love my Christmas story so far and am eagerly looking forward to more Very Happy

So sorry that I've picked up on this drabble only now and thanks to Mary for pointing me in the right direction...

#24: Author: Tara, Location: Malvern, Worcestershire

Posted: Thu Dec 14, 2006 12:08 am
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And Biddy knows all about 'cold and painful', of course.

#25: Author: Secret Santa, Location: The North Pole

Posted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 12:57 pm
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Here is a little more, Jo; I'm glad you like it.

After dinner, the excited younger children gave nobody any peace until the Christmas tree was decked out in all its glory, so their elders were kept busy scurrying to and fro to bring decorations as required and admire the placing of the various ornaments. Mavis had definite ideas about what she wanted the tree to look like and sat serenely issuing orders with the air of a princess. Charlie was particularly keen to obey her lightest word, and once or twice had to be reminded not to be too scathing toward his younger sisters when they offered ideas.
“It is their tree as well, Charlie,” commented Mrs Grant in an undertone when Marion had flushed and looked unhappy at a particularly brisk rejection of one of her suggestions.
“I know Mum, but I just want it all to be perfect this year,” he replied miserably.
“But remember, you have to be fair,” said his mother, glancing at Biddy as she helped Lydia to untangle a garland of tinsel that was destined to be draped around the base of the tree. Charlie looked away and shuffled uneasily.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered miserably.
“Then you know what to do about it,” his mother remarked, moving away towards Mavis. “Are we almost ready for the star, dear? – It looks as if we’re just about finished.” Mavis nodded and her father took up the star to set it in its place; this done, he nodded to Biddy and clicked off the overhead light. At once, Biddy switched on the fairy lights to the sound of happy little cries from the children, and the tree shimmered and sparkled softly in the corner of the room.
“Sure, it’s beautiful,” said Biddy softly. “I can’t remember when I last saw anything so pretty – before the war perhaps.”
“Well, we’ve managed to keep the decorations safely, despite the children’s best efforts,” remarked Mr Grant, with a chuckle. He looked at Lydia, and her slightly older sister, Valerie. “Bedtime!” he said. “Off you go, you two. What about you Mavis? Are you tired?” Mavis looked up, her face looking oddly wistful in the darkened room.
“Oh dad, how could I be tired? I’ve just been sitting here, doing nothing!” He frowned slightly, and at once his wife intervened.
“Tomorrow’s going to be busy too, dear. Remember, the Thompsons are coming in the afternoon - and there’s the rest of the decorating to deal with as well. Be a sensible girl, do, and go to bed now.”
“I’d forgotten about the Thompsons,” acknowledged Mavis. “You’ll like them Biddy. I was at school with Kathleen Thompson - and Leslie and Charlie share a long and misspent past!”
“Here, that’s slander!” remarked Charlie indignantly.
“It’s anything but,’ retorted his sister inelegantly. “When you and Leslie went away to school, Mr Harvey offered votes of thanks for mercies received!” Biddy giggled, and catching Charlie’s gaze, fell silent. Charlie frowned. Mavis looked at them in turn, then carefully stood up and took her father’s arm.
“I think I will go to bed, then I’ll be nicely rested for tomorrow. Goodnight to both of you.” She smiled at them, and went slowly towards the door accompanied by her father. The room was very silent when they had gone; Mrs Grant and the younger children had already departed, and Charlie and Biddy were alone. Biddy stood up.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she began. Charlie held out his hand in a gesture of appeal.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I was rude to you, and I want to apologise.”

#26: Author: Fiona Mc, Location: Bendigo, Australia

Posted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 7:47 pm
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Good. Charlie was way out of line with Biddy and he made a whole heap of assumptions too. I know he was upset but could understand better if he had shown it that way with someone he knew rather than a stranger who had very kindly helped his sister home. This is great.

#27: Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 8:15 pm
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Oh, the poor lad, wanting everything to be perfect for his dying sister - how one feels for him. And Biddy is so understanding.

Thanks, Santa.

#28: Author: JoS, Location: South Africa

Posted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 9:08 pm
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That was lovely - thank you Santa.

#29: Author: Secret Santa, Location: The North Pole

Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 12:41 pm
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Hi Jo! I have been a bit snowed under lately, but haven't forgotten you.... so here is some more of your story. I hope you enjoy it and there is a little more of this to come....

Biddy looked down at the outstretched hand, and took it.
“Thank you,” she said with a shy dignity. “I accept.” Charlie turned pink.
“I behaved very badly,” he said. “And I am sorry. I hope I haven’t spoiled things for you.” Biddy regarded him seriously.
“Well, the last few hours have not been pleasant. ‘Tis difficult to be a guest and at odds with one of the family too. So I’ll not deny I was bothered.” Charlie flushed darkly.
“I wasn’t thinking, and it wasn’t your fault,” he said curtly. “But – coming back and seeing her so ill was just shocking. I hadn’t really understood how things were.” Biddy nodded,
“Tis the difference between knowing a thing in your mind and feeling it in your heart,” she said softly. Charlie nodded, his mouth constricting suddenly.
“Yes,” he said huskily. “But I had no reason to be rude to you - a guest in our home. And after all your kindness in coming so far with Mavis too. It – it’s very good of you - and good of your family too, to spare you for so long.” Biddy smiled gently.
“Thank you, Charlie; ‘tis good to hear that,” she replied. “But you know, I don’t have a family, so - ”
“No family?” interrupted Charlie in horror. “Nobody at all?” Biddy considered.
“I have a half-brother ten years younger than myself,” she said quietly. “But sure, I don’t even know if he’s alive – and as for where he might be, I have no idea.”
“But how did that happen?” asked Charlie, then with a belated remembrance of his manners, “I’m sorry Biddy, don’t feel that you have to answer if you’d rather not.” Biddy smiled reassuringly
“Don’t you be worrying,” she said. “It doesn’t hurt to be thinking of them – not my parents anyway, and I have had such good friends for so long.” Her eyes were very blue as she continued. “I don’t really remember my father – he died when I was so small. He was a soldier - a sergeant – in the Army, and after he was gone, my mother went back to Miss Honora at the castle at Rathdearg in County Kerry where she’d been her maid before she was married.” Charlie’s eyes widened in surprise, and Biddy nodded in acknowledgement. “Miss Honora was sick – she had the TB on her – and she was told to go to Austria for the air. So she did and took my mother with her, and said I could come too; I was six. Anyway when I was eight, Miss Honora died, and my mother married Luigi, the Italian chauffeur.” She gave a wistful sigh. “Luigi made a great fuss of me, so he did -but after they’d been married for a year, my brother was born, and Mother died. I never rightly knew why. And eight months later, Luigi caught a cold that went to bronchitis, and he died too. His sister took Giovanni, but I was no kin to her and she simply couldn’t afford to have me with all her own, so they spoke to the priest and he arranged for me to go to a local orphanage.”
“In Austria?” asked Charlie incredulously. “Didn’t they think of sending you back to Ireland?” Biddy stared at him.
‘Sure, who would they send me to? There was nobody – and ‘twas almost four years since I’d been in Ireland, so that small piece of Austria was home to me.” She sighed, “In some ways, it was more home than Ireland…..” She was quiet, and the buzzing of the cicadas sounded suddenly louder.
“So what happened then?” asked Charlie when the silence threatened to become oppressive. Biddy laughed.
“Well, I didn’t want to be going to the Cecilia Home on charity, so I thought about it and the answer was perfectly simple - I ran away!” Charlie’s jaw dropped.
“What?” he said finally. “You ran away!” Biddy nodded, her eyes dancing.
“Just that!” she said solemnly. “I had no sort of plan, other than not wanting to go to the orphanage. Anyway, somehow, I made my way up to a local lake, the Tiernsee – it was summer, so not cold, and I had a little money, and managed to earn an extra meal for myself every so often. I’d been there for a couple of days, when I met some girls who were at a school by the lake - an English school. They decided they were going to take care of me, and did their very best for me - until they were found out.” She grinned mischievously. “I’ve always thought that was really rather a relief to them; they were finding it harder to feed me than they expected.”
“Then what happened?” Biddy’s eyes softened.
“The school adopted me,” she said simply. Charlie stared at her uncomprehendingly.
“Why?” he asked eventually. Biddy looked past him through the open window into the darkness of the garden.
‘Sure, I’ve often wondered,” she said quietly. She was silent for a moment, then said, “I don’t think they believed they could do anything else. It was – is – the sort of school that believed in really practising its religion. Once that group of girls had decided they were responsible for me, then the rest of the school took that over. And they were kind without being condescending – or telling me I had to be grateful!” Charlie shrugged; this was beyond him.
“What about your brother?” he asked. Biddy’s face grew sad.
“Well, the war came,” she replied unsteadily. “We had an address in Italy for Luigi’s sister, and Miss Wilson – she was the person who really looked after me, with Miss Annersley who was the headmistress – she wrote to her every three months, and the priest in the village would write back on her behalf, telling me a little about Giovanni. But in 1938 the school had to leave Austria, then in 1940 Italy and England were at war, so there were no more letters. Then we wrote in 1945, and early in 1946, but there was no reply, and finally we heard that the village was gone, and there was no trace of them and that was all.” Charlie was silent, and Biddy looked up at him.
“Ah, don’t you be sad now,” she said softly. “I’m not, often, and if I don’t have family, then I do have friends who are as good as family.” At her words, he winced.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Especially for what I said earlier. I would never have said it if I’d known.”
“You were angry,” she replied gently. “When people are angry – and afraid – they are often saying things they don’t mean.” Charlie flushed.
“I could have spoiled Christmas for you,” he said contritely. “And you a guest too.” Biddy smiled.
“Nothing is spoiled,” she said firmly. “I am looking forward very much to my Christmas in Australia – although I’m still not sure what will be involved!”
“Aren’t you?” he said eagerly, taking the hint that she had given him. “Well, early tomorrow morning, we have to send the supplies up to the camp where the stockmen are. We always kill a sheep for them, and they celebrate in their own way – not many of them go bush at this time of year. When we’ve done that, mother insists on flowers – Christmas bells if we can get them, and kangaroo paw - for the house. Then there’s the extra cooking, and the Thompsons are coming in the afternoon, and in the evening we sing carols and -” He caught sight of her bemused expression and stopped. “It really is different isn’t it?” Biddy shook her head.
“Sure, it’s like nothing that I’m used to,” she said. “Except the cooking perhaps!” She considered for a moment, then smiled.
“And the welcome,” she added quietly. “And the welcome.” She turned and went towards the door, and Charlie followed her.

#30: Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 6:11 pm
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What a sad yet tender exposition of Biddy's background, and how grateful she is to the school. 'Tis good that she and Charlie understand each other now, and that Biddy appreciates her welcome here. Poor Charlie, though - having to get his head round his sister's terminal illness.

Thank, Santa.

#31: Author: JoS, Location: South Africa

Posted: Wed Dec 27, 2006 7:22 pm
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Thank you so much Santa - I'm really enjoying this. Kangaroo paw for Christmas though??
I hope you had a wonderful Christmas!

#32: Author: Fiona Mc, Location: Bendigo, Australia

Posted: Thu Dec 28, 2006 9:13 am
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Glad to see an update. I know this is someone elses Christmas drabble but am enjoying reading it as well. Thanks

#33: Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England

Posted: Sun Dec 31, 2006 11:24 am
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This is lovely - thanks Santa

#34: Author: Secret Santa, Location: The North Pole

Posted: Mon Jan 01, 2007 7:00 am
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Happy New Year Jo! As a New Year present, here is the conclusion to your drabble. I hope you enjoyed it and had a lovely Christmas and New Year.

Four Years Later
Biddy stood at the edge of the rocks, and listened to the wash of the waves as the tide came in. Her hostess had assured her the weather was quite calm, but a keen wind was blowing, and rain was expected during the night. Nevertheless, Biddy preferred to spend at least the first part of the evening down on the shore. She looked up at the sky, tracing her way through the familiar stars as Miss Wilson had taught her and her friends to do years ago when they were Guides.
“Sure, it’s been a long time,’ she remarked to the night. The wind buffeted her as she stood, but she rejoiced in its biting edge; somehow, celebrating Christmas in the middle of summer had never seemed quite right. Even that first Christmas, when she had been made so welcome by the Grants and their friends, and had joined in celebrations of a kind that she had not known since before the war, she had had that jarring sense of dislocation every time she paused to think of where she was. But it had been a beautiful Christmas, she acknowledged to herself, full of laughter and love, carefully planned and carried out and with Mavis at the centre of it, loving and merry, and somehow able for those few days to ignore her increasing weakness and fatigue. Indeed, she had been so cheerful and light-hearted that Charlie at least had begun to believe that Jem Russell’s diagnosis had been wrong.
“It stands to reason,” he had said jubilantly. “She must be feeling better, or she couldn’t have been so happy this last week – doctors can make mistakes and this was obviously one. She’s going to be fine.” Nobody had been able to convince him otherwise, and he had returned to his uncle’s station a week after Christmas, still optimistic that his sister would recover, and even though both his parents had frequently written to him explaining why this could not happen, he had refused to believe them, despite the gradual, but inexorable worsening of Mavis’s condition.
Finally, in August, he had returned home, at his sister’s request, to be shocked into an awareness of the true state of affairs, and Biddy’s heart had ached to see the way in which he had fought and railed against doctors, fate and even God, furious, resentful and despairing in turns, although careful never to let his sister see the extent of his rage and pain. Mavis had lived until the middle of October, her last few weeks a burden and a torment to her as her failing heart struggled to meet the demands made of it, and even the simplest movement became almost impossible as she struggled for breath, and no position provided any relief. Biddy had found then that she could understand some of Charlie’s anger and had prayed fiercely for a merciful and swift end for Mavis. She had also found that she could best help the household by caring for the younger children, scared and bewildered by the happenings that they did not understand. And when Mavis finally died, Biddy could only be thankful that her suffering was over, even while she missed the sparkling charm that nothing had been able to eradicate completely.
Christmas that year had been very different. Barely two months after Mavis’s death, nobody had been able to summon up the enthusiasm to celebrate the event joyfully. They had made some effort for the sake of the three youngest children, but after the initial exchange of gifts, the day had been very subdued. Charlie had not come home that Christmas, but had stayed on at his job as his uncle’s chief assistant, trying to soothe the misery of grief in hard work. He had written occasionally to Biddy, desultory letters that described the country beyond Toowoomba on the Great Dividing Range where his uncle’s station was located, and gave detailed accounts of the various activities that filled his day. The letters were oddly impersonal, save for a brief flash of enthusiasm when Biddy had told him that she had agreed to stay with the Grants until Lydia was old enough for boarding school - a decision that had cost her dearly, as she understood that it meant she must stay in Australia for at least another two years. And while Biddy appreciated the beauty of Australia, and knew that she would always find a welcome here, she also knew that she did not belong; it was not her place and even the stars were strange.
But despite this, the extra years spent in Australia were not unhappy. For one thing, Biddy found that, as she had suspected she might, she enjoyed teaching, and her pupils progressed swiftly. She also discovered that as time went by, the atmosphere of grief and mourning lifted; gradually the family began to laugh again, and by the time Christmas came round again, they were able to think of Mavis, with love and sadness certainly, but without the corrosive misery that had been so noticeable last year. Even Charlie, returned home from Queensland for the first time since his sister’s death, had been happier, his bitterness and anger noticeably diminished, and he was able to talk about Mavis as she had been when they were younger, and had shared so much to together. He had been increasingly friendly towards Biddy, and spent much of his time with her, so she was not unduly surprised, when, despite her best efforts to deter him, he had asked her to marry him.
“Everybody would like it,” he had said, pleadingly. “My family would be yours - and I love you.” Biddy had smiled at this artless conclusion, then sighed.
“Thank you, Charlie, but it’s not enough,” she had replied. Charlie had stared at her puzzled.
“But I don’t understand -” he began. Biddy had carried on, anxious to settle this, and uneasily aware that he would be hurt, although not as much as he might think he was.
“You’d better be understanding,” she had said directly. “Tis a nice thought, and I am grateful to you, but I really don’t love you enough to marry you.” And you don’t love me either, but sure, you’ll find that out for yourself soon enough. He had flushed scarlet then, a hurt and mutinous expression crossing his face.
“You can’t be certain,” he said indignantly. “You didn’t give yourself time to think about it!” Biddy shook her head,
“No, Charlie, “ she said gently, but firmly. “And I don’t belong here, not really. This isn’t my place, and I always intended to return to England. Lydia will soon be old enough for school, then I’ll be going home.”
“But you don’t have anyone there, or a home to go to,” he protested. “You’d be much better off here, you know!” He fell silent, as Biddy stared at him, a certain icy dignity making itself apparent to him.
“I rather think that is something for me to decide,” she said quietly. Then she walked out of the room, her dark head held very high.
Fortunately for everyone, Charlie had been due to return to Queensland the next morning, and in the flurry of his departure, his sudden coldness to Biddy passed unnoticed – save by Mr Grant who drew his own conclusions and said nothing – and Biddy was able to resume her teaching of the two youngest girls without any difficulties. The remainder of her time in Australia had passed by peacefully until Lydia had been able to join her sisters at boarding school, and then Miss Annersley had offered her the position of History mistress at the Chalet School. She had accepted and come home thankfully….and now she stood listening to the sea and staring up at the familiar stars, while she thought of a letter that had come from Mrs Grant, that told her of Charlie’s engagement to a station and stock manager’s daughter from Toowoomba.
“We are all delighted,” Mrs Grant had written. “Isabel is a lovely creature, and they are very much in love and very happy. They plan to be married in June….” Biddy had written back joyfully that afternoon, rejoicing at the news.
“Oh, but I’m glad for them,” she commented now to the stars, and turned to make her way up to Penny Rest, the guest house where she was spending her first Christmas back in England. As she left the beach, she caught sight of a bobbing circle of light approaching and a voice said hesitantly, “Miss O’Ryan?” Biddy stopped and squinted at the torchlight.
“Carola? Is that you?” At once a girl’s voice replied.
“Mrs Browne sent me to fetch you; it’s almost time for dinner – and it’s a special one because it’s Christmas Eve.” Biddy grinned.
“Sure we’d better not be late then!” And she turned to follow the girl up the path towards the house where the lights shone in welcome.

#35: Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England

Posted: Mon Jan 01, 2007 9:49 am
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That was a perfect ending

Thanks, Jo's Santa

#36: Author: Lottie, Location: Humphrey's Corner

Posted: Mon Jan 01, 2007 10:18 am
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That's lovely, JoS's Santa.

#37: Author: Alison H, Location: Manchester

Posted: Mon Jan 01, 2007 10:23 am
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Thank you Santa!

#38: Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent

Posted: Mon Jan 01, 2007 11:27 am
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That was lovely - thank you Santa.

#39: Author: MaryR, Location: Cheshire

Posted: Mon Jan 01, 2007 1:34 pm
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How sad for Mavis' family to watch her struggles. Crying or Very sad

But it has been a wonderful fill-in on Biddy's life, in a land where *even the stars are strange*. It all added to her other experiences to make her what she is when she returns to the CS - a beguiling and much-loved person and mistress.

Thank you, Jo's Santa.

#40: Author: Fiona Mc, Location: Bendigo, Australia

Posted: Tue Jan 02, 2007 5:03 am
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Thanks this has been fabulous

#41: Author: Ruth B, Location: Oxford, UK

Posted: Tue Jan 02, 2007 9:52 am
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A lovely fill in, thank you Santa. Nice to end with the link back to Carola too!

#42: Author: Tara, Location: Malvern, Worcestershire

Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 12:00 am
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That was really lovely, Santa. Thank you.

#43: Author: Woofter,

Posted: Thu Jan 04, 2007 10:01 am
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Just read this all, it's lovely. Thank you JoS's santa!

#44: Author: Elder in Ontario, Location: Ontario, Canada

Posted: Fri Jan 05, 2007 3:34 pm
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I've been away and only just caught up with at least half of this - it is a wonderful combination of a glimpse into Biddy's own life story before the Chalet School, more about her time in Australia than we ever gleaned from EBD's brief references to it in Carola, and fascinating details of how Christmas is spent in a country which is at the height of its summer during the holiday period and where, indeed 'even the stars are strange'. (I well remember being fascinated by this phenomen on our first visit to Australia in 1990) And the contrast between an Antipodean Christmas and Biddy's Christmas at Penny Rest on her return to England just rounds everything out beautifully, as does her encounter with Carola.

Thanks, JoS' Secret Santa.

The CBB -> St Agnes' House

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