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Behind Her Writing - Complete
http://www.the-cbb.co.uk/viewtopic.php?f=14&t=6152

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Fri Jun 05, 2009 3:44 pm ]
Post subject:  Behind Her Writing - Complete

Con ran her fingers nervously over her dress, pulling slightly at the material to try and straighten it. She glanced again in the mirror, smoothing down her hair and making sure that her nails were clean. Tonight was important to her parents, and she’d agreed to make an effort – which was an effort, as she’d just begun work on her latest novel. She was at home from university for the summer, and had taken the opportunity to take up writing again. She’d expected her mother, of all people, to understand that she couldn’t possibly sacrifice a whole evening of writing to a dinner party with one of Jack’s stuffy, boring doctor friends from work.

Joey had been adamant, however. Con had been cooped up in her room at every available opportunity since she arrived, and even Len and Margot had been unable to tempt her out on their regular expeditions. Tonight was an opportunity for her to socialise, and have a break from living in a completely different world to the rest of them. Joey, of all people, understood the importance of breaking from writing now and then, as much as it might call to you.

Con, always the quietest of the triplets, had taken considerably better to university than her sisters. For Len the responsibility was always proving a little too much, and although he hadn’t said anything, Joey knew that Jack was worried about her. He’d promised to talk to her during the holidays, but he said that if she carried on the way she was going he would have to speak to Reg about calling off the engagement, at least for a few years. Len had arrived looking peaky and drawn, her nerves clearly at breaking point. Joey and Jack had almost been expecting it; the triplets couldn’t possibly travel to Switzerland for any holiday but the summer one, and so had been staying with Dick and Mollie, the latter of whom had written to warn Joey that her eldest daughter was changing, and it wasn’t good.

Margot, on the other hand, had gone to a different extreme and was rapidly sliding into bad habits. She happily confessed to putting work second, preferring nights out with her friends and, Jack suspected, general acts of debauchery which would have earned her a stern reprimand at home. She was happy-go-lucky and as unconcerned with other people’s wants and needs as Len was overly tense. The consequences were about to fall on both of them. Con was, apparently, the only one who could be trusted away from the restricting bounds of school and home.

She had settled down quite well. She was quite open about the fact that she put her writing before unimportant essays or discussions, but at the same time she had enough discipline to set it aside when something really important came up. That had been the main reason she had been allowed to be as reclusive as she had been up to this point of the holidays; but now Joey had put her foot down. Jack had brushed it off, saying not to worry, Albert was an old friend and with half the children there would be plenty, but Joey had been adamant. She liked to show off her triplet daughters, and Con needed to be woken up.

She fiddled with her hair absently, unpinning a hair clip which had fallen out of place and sliding it back in smoothly. She had spent ages fighting it into a bun, plaited, with a few ends straggling artistically around her shoulders for effect. She hadn’t bothered to put on make-up, although she knew that Margot, at least, had started to do so since she moved to university. Her face was paler than usual, but there was an elusive beauty to her despite that. She smiled gently, hoping her parents would be proud of her. She had chosen a white dress, bought for one of Mollie’s garden parties last year and left at Freudesheim ever since. It was strap-less, thin at the waist and with a layered, ruffled skirt. Her dark hair and darker eyes contrasted with it nicely, and it accentuated her perfect figure.

After one final glance she took a deep breath and prepared to go down, to see if she could help before the guest arrived. Then her eyes drifted to the paper, sat on her small desk which she kept for writing. It was calling desperately to her, the characters wanting to be led on down the path she had mapped out for them. She had just hit a problematic stage, where her character had to decide whether or not to obey her parent’s wishes and marry the rich aristocrat, and she was stuck. Her heroine just wouldn’t give in that easily, but one of the minor characters had definitely, and much against her will, been trying to tempt the hero away and she wasn’t sure she could keep him interested in the right woman much longer.

She sighed and turned resolutely away. If she took up her writing now, she would be lost to everything around her, get ink all over her dress and miss the arrival of the all important guest. They would wait one night, and she could come back to it with a clearer head in the morning. Her hand hovered over the door handle, and she fought the urge to go back and just check that last paragraph – she was sure that she knew how to improve it now – before turning away resolutely and instead walking composedly down the corridor to find Len. Their visitor would be here soon.

Author:  PaulineS [ Fri Jun 05, 2009 6:59 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for a new drabble, hope the exams are going well

Author:  Alison H [ Fri Jun 05, 2009 8:34 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

This looks interesting.

Author:  Joanne [ Fri Jun 05, 2009 9:24 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I see they are going to be entertaining a doctor! Hope Con is prepared.

Thanks.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:27 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Please don't ask about exams! If anyone knows a good way to memorise quotes in three days, I would be forever grateful to hear it! Anyway, just a small update, sorry.

- X -

Len was still trying to do up the sash of her dress correctly when Con stuck her head hesitantly around the door and smiled nervously. She had become rather wary of her sister of late; half the time she would arrive only to be snapped at for some minor, inconsequential phrase or action, and the other half Len barely spoke to her. She only wished that she knew what to do, but as good as she might be at understanding her characters she was forever tactless with other people.

“Let me,” she offered softly, taking the ribbon in her hands and running it through her fingers expertly to straighten it before she tied the bow. Len was in a gentle blue dress, which reflected her eyes in the same way as a deep lake on a dismal day. Her hair curled around her face, having been left loose for the night, and if it wasn’t for her drawn features she would have been her usual, pretty self. Con, on this occasion, decided that a lie could do more good than harm and added, still in her quietest tones, “You look beautiful.”

Len sighed gently but didn’t bother to correct her sister. The two had tried to stick together at first, but Len had been too clingy when Con had just wanted some time alone to write her characters. Without other people there, neither had made any friends. Con didn’t particularly care, content in the happy Other World she was apt to wander off to at any given moment, so that the occasional cup of coffee with a fellow novelist suited her perfectly, but Len felt it keenly. She was used to being liked, understood. To be overlooked, just one of a large crowd, was teaching her some harsh lessons.

“We should probably go down and help before he comes,” offered Con, still stood just behind her triplet. She may as well have talked to her reflection in the mirror for all the attention Len paid to her, until she shook the warm shoulder a little.

“Oh, yes,” came the vague response. Con, for once, was silent. She was the dreamy one, the one who didn’t listen properly; Len had always been so down to earth, so confident. It hurt her to see Len like this.

The two ran down side by side, Len clutching her hair to make sure it didn’t become ruffled – Joey was always strict about appearances at the dinner table. Their mother was currently upstairs trying to coax Cecil into a dress, Anna informed them as she laid the table at lightening speeds, so if the two could finish setting out glasses and also arrange the twists of bread in tiny wicker baskets properly that would be a wonderful help. She stopped and stared for a moment as they set to, her hands clasped in front of her. The two had grown so much since she first held them, all those years ago.

Margot bounced in just as Len set down the last glass, resplendent in a figure hugging yellow ball gown, complete with blue jewellery and a blue throw that was suspiciously similar in style and colour to Len’s dress. She had even put on make-up, and as Con stared at her she realised for the first time that Margot had no idea how different she was. She couldn’t tell that she was overdressed for the occasion, that she would probably embarrass her parents. Or, worse, she could and she just didn’t care.

She was still debating whether to say anything or not when Jack joined them, casually smart in a suit and tie. He surveyed the room and then them, his three eldest daughters and the secret pride of his heart. All three were so different, now, each individual people. He pulled Len and Margot to him, kissing them fondly. Len sidled nearer to bury her head in his chest, eyes still heavy and languid. Con turned on the pretext of putting a napkin back into place. For some indefinable reason she was upset by the idea of hugging her father; she was a grown up, now, she could look after herself.

Before Jack could question her refusal to join them, Anna appeared to let him know that his visitor had arrived. He released his daughter’s with another quick kiss for Len, then smiled and, before he went to answer it, reassured them,

“You look perfect. Thankyou.”

Then he was gone, leaving all three to stare at each other. Margot tossed her short curls and moved to sit at the sofa. Len, after hovering for a moment, joined her, hands clasped painfully tightly on her knees. Con, the most perceptive of the three, had noticed these small signs more and more recently, but now she was free of her writing for a time – if Con managed to forget it, she forgot it completely – she began to try and puzzle out what could be the reason behind it.

“Girls, I’d like you to meet Albert,” said a familiar, deep voice behind her, and she turned to greet their visitor.

Author:  PaulineS [ Sat Jun 06, 2009 7:57 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Len's behaviour has me worried. Margot is rebeling in expected ways, but Len is showing signs of stress and possible illness. Hope Jack realises it.

Love Con's balanced approach.

Author:  Nightwing [ Sat Jun 06, 2009 8:28 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

This looks great, ChubbyMonkey - I hope the family are able to help Len before she goes back to uni, and I'm glad Con has noticed that something's wrong with her! Loved that line about Joey coaxing Cecil into a dress :D

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sat Jun 06, 2009 8:39 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel, This sounds fantastic and intriguing. Good luck with the exams

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Jun 07, 2009 7:36 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Len sounds quite depressed ... and who's Albert?

Author:  jmc [ Sun Jun 07, 2009 8:05 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

It is so difficult for some students when they go to university and leave behind the structured life of high school, and the CS would have been more structured than most. Many move from being a big fish in a small pond so just another face. I loved uni myself but I had friends who were quite lost there and eventually dropped out. Lecturers don't care if you are sick and can't get your essay done.

Poor Len. Engaged by the end of high school and is obviously feeling the pressure of university life. Margot has let the freedom go to her head. I can't see her becoming a nun now. It's good that Con is enjoying herself at uni and I hope that the doctor isn't for her. Why do Jack and Joey seem to want their daughters to get married so young?
Hope Albert is nice at least.
Good luck with your exams

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Jun 07, 2009 7:11 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Why do updates always seem so long until you post them? Bah. Sorry. I have an exam tomorrow but then a day off, so I shall try and have something longer for you then.

- X -

The stars fell around her and the planets realigned themselves – or could have done for all the notice Con took of anything in the few seconds that she met Albert’s eyes. Just her first glance had taken her breath away, despite her writing on the subject she had never imagined that love could feel this good, or that you could fall so quickly. In a second her whole universe changed, and new shades of light and darkness sprang up through her life.

He had eyes as deep as a pacified lake under a cloudless sky, the dark blue a unique shade of its own. His black hair was neatly ordered and framed his round face perfectly, contrasting to the paleness of his skin and the sparkle in his eyes. His blood red lips were as still as the rest of his body, suggesting that he was suddenly finding it as hard to breathe as she was.

Time hung, stretched around them indefinitely.

Margot stood up and bounced over, even her hair bobbing with her approachability and enthusiasm, breaking the moment completely. Con turned away but couldn’t help overhearing her gay chatter as she put herself firmly into the role of delighted host, at least until such time as Joey could reclaim it. The second, and often most overlooked, of the triplets did her best to pretend that it wasn’t a stab of jealousy which had just pierced her heart as she reoccupied herself with the napkins.

She chided herself as she half listened to him greeting Len, and answering Margot’s pestering questions. They hadn’t exchanged more than a glance, yet, not even one word. She could see that he was in his late twenties at least – that was a ten year difference, minimum. Anyway, she had her own concerns; it was her characters and her characters only who were supposed to be distracted by unexplainable, illogical feelings. She was going back to university soon, between that and her various literary projects she didn’t have time for added complications. And she was being really silly if she was thinking about all of this from just one look.

“You must be Constance.”

His voice was so smooth. Con shut her eyes for a second too long, swept away by the command, the force of emotion behind the words. It was liquid chocolate, dripping over her unresisting skin and wrapping itself sinuously in a thick blanket around her imagination. Her hands trembled at the delicacy of his greeting, and it was an effort to turn around. She was scared, scared that if she saw him again she would be forced to acknowledge that he wasn’t what her first glance thought, scared to see a complete detachment in his eyes because he could never reciprocate her feelings.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he concluded when she did dare to face him. She was pressed against the table to avoid falling into his arms, and she could feel the hard wood digging into the small of her back. It was the only part of her not numb with desire.

“Please call me Con,” she smiled, hoping that nobody had noticed the waver in her voice, particularly Albert. She bit her lips to hide her true feelings; she very much doubted that he head heard that much about her, at least in relation to her siblings. Neither of her parents mentioned her, when they could discuss Responsible Len who was always looking after everyone, or Brave Margot and her latest misdeeds. Con was ordinary, boring, locked away in her own little place. She didn’t even have any of her mother’s interesting quirks to attract new people to her.

“It’s a beautiful name,” promised Albert, but before he could say more Margot had whisked him off to choose a drink from the delicately concealed cabinet at the side. Jack joined them, pouring himself a whiskey, while Len retired to her place on the sofa listlessly. Unable to pretend for any longer that the napkins needed her attention that badly, Con joined her sister, but for all the conversation she got she may as well have stayed where she was. Len had suddenly become deeply fascinated by a painting on the opposite wall, and remained so until Charles joined them, dropping between them unceremoniously. He was called up a second later to be introduced.

Eventually, Joey joined them, chaperoned by Stephen. Mike skulked in quietly behind them and did his best to remain unnoticeable thereafter; the rest had been banished to the nursery for the evening so that the adults could enjoy themselves. Joining Margot, Joey poured herself a glass of wine, while Stephen accepted a glass of whiskey Jack handed to him. The rest declined – or, in Mike’s case, had to be told that they weren’t allowed in a hissed undertone – and slowly they migrated towards the dinner table to sit down. Despite her best efforts to avoid it, for she was sure she should never be able to make conversation with her heart fluttering so much, Con ended up sat next to Albert.

As soon as everyone was seated, and Margot had begun telling them of how she hoped to take her doctoring skills and join a Nunnery, Joey touched the bell beside her. Dinner was beginning.

Author:  PaulineS [ Sun Jun 07, 2009 7:23 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the update. Hope the exam goes well tomorrow.

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Jun 07, 2009 9:30 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Good luck with the exam :D .

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Mon Jun 08, 2009 5:02 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the update. Good luck with the exams

Author:  jmc [ Mon Jun 08, 2009 6:43 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

So Morgot is trying to call all of the attention to herself/ Whay doesn't that surprise me. It's sad that Con thinks she is boring. Who has been talking about her to Albert?

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Jun 09, 2009 2:40 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Dinner went well although it was, for Con at least, a rather embarrassing affair. She sat silent throughout unless addressed directly, in which case she had to answer in the interests of politeness. For the large part her father and Albert discussed cases at the San and new methods of treating various predicaments which were constantly being found, but the latter was also interested in the others and talked to Joey about her latest book, the triplets of university and at great length to Steve about his intended career. Con’s one consolation was that Charles and Mike tended to be just as quiet as herself, and Len even more so, so that it was left to Margot and Steve to carry the conversation.

Afterwards they retired to the Salon, where Joey produced some of Jack’s socks to pointedly darn – he laughingly told Albert that Anna had often offered to complete the onerous chore, but Joey refused because she was stubborn enough to consider it the duty of a wife to do such things – and Charles and Mike retreated to a corner to talk in a low voice of their own concerns. Con sat between Len and Margot and all three listened politely to the conversation of the adults, contributing but occasionally. Con had to shake herself awake again more than once, helped along by Margot pinching her arm, but as soon as she found her mind wandering to the problem of her characters, and what plot twist would be needed to bring about the joyful reunion – but not too soon in the interests of length – she decided that she needed a break.

Excusing herself, she slipped outside. This high up the lights of the city failed to penetrate, and the sky was a thick black layer interspersed only with the twinkling stars. She looked up, her breath an unsteady mist above her, the full moon shining brightly over the snowy peaks which reared up like jagged teeth. The wood of the chalet was reassuringly solid behind her, and she scraped her fingers down it, lost in the wonder of the heavens. She felt almost alone in the entire planet, completely isolated, and the shiver which unfurled down her spine was only partly through cold.

“Here,” said a gentle voice behind her, and she felt a jacket being slid over her shoulders. It smelt of smoke, and fresh air, and faintly of licorice. The mixture caused her to wrinkle her nose in pleasure, unconsciously, even before she’d turned. Albert was stood next to her, offering out a case of cigarettes. She accepted carefully, her fingers shaking now that she realised just how long she had been stood there and how cold the air was.

“Thankyou,” she murmured, bending over so that he could light it for her. She coughed slightly as she first breathed in the heady tobacco; she had smoked once or twice at university, but only as now out of politeness, and it was by no means a regular habit. In truth she failed to see why people enjoyed it so much – though she had her suspicions that Margot could give her a good answer to that question if she chose to enquire.

The two people stood in silence, shrouded by the night, the tiny flame of their cigarettes all that illuminated their faces. Even half in shadow Con had to admit that Albert was attractive, and more than once she caught his eye as he glanced sideways at her. She smiled but looked steadily straight ahead for the most part, determined not to give him an excuse to laugh at her. At one point he sighed and shifted but even then she didn’t open conversation. She had been enjoying her solitude and if he wanted to disturb that he could make the first effort.

“You want to be an author, don’t you?” he asked as he reached the end of his cigarette. Con, for all that she had been enjoying herself alone, had to confess that being given the opportunity to talk to him alone was more than she could have hoped for, and after all he had lent her his jacket she should really be polite in return.

“I doubt I could actually achieve it, but I would if I could,” she replied, almost wistfully, focusing on the stars again. They blurred as the sharp air brought tears to her eyes.

“Your father thinks you’re very good,” said Albert. He paused, as if debating whether to go on, then added, “He talks a lot about you, you know. I get an update on all of his children whenever I meet him, but you three especially.”

“It is very kind of you to be interested.”

As soon as she said it Con cursed her assumption, feeling foolish, but she thought she heard a smile in Albert’s reply.

“I rather fear he would tell me even if I wasn’t; thankfully, having neither a wife nor a family, I like to hear his news of you all. Come, we should go back in, they’ll be wondering where we are.”

He opened the door, but Con declared her intention of staying outside a few moments longer and so he retreated unaccompanied. Once she was sure she was once more alone, she lent her head back against the wall, eyes shut in confusion. Surely, surely he wouldn’t have come outside to find her if he didn’t like her, but she couldn’t dismiss the possibility of him mocking her. She liked him so much, too; as limited as her contact with men had been, certainly until university, she knew that she had never felt this way before. And he couldn’t possibly feel the same no matter what she might dream, so it was pointless to keep thinking like this.

All the same, as she was hanging up his jacket, she breathed in deeply, inhaling his scent. She might have been boring, and dull, and appeared completely disinterested, and she might never even see him again, but she would remember that, at least.

Author:  Alison H [ Tue Jun 09, 2009 3:54 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Well, he followed her outside and made a point of telling her that he wasn't married, so it sounds hopeful!

Author:  keren [ Tue Jun 09, 2009 4:02 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Is Jack proud of them, or also fishing for a husband!

Author:  PaulineS [ Tue Jun 09, 2009 7:36 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Con, you need to trust yourself more. You can be an author and you canbe attractive to a man.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Tue Jun 09, 2009 10:00 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks this is great

Author:  jmc [ Wed Jun 10, 2009 7:10 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

He sounds lovely. I hope that Con can get over her doubts about her writing. This is great. Thank you

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Wed Jun 10, 2009 9:28 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for all of your lovely comments so far :) Hopefully the title will start to make more sense after this update!

- X -

As soon as breakfast the next morning was over Con skipped upstairs, ready to sit down and tackle her characters again. She loved taking breaks from her projects, because she knew that when she started again she would be fresher, the original spirit of excitement at the new lives she was planning reawakened. But it was a drag to be hauled into company just at the moments she most wanted to be sat, lost in the middle of the ocean, or a foreign palace or, in this case, a ballroom. Last night had been the exception – no brilliant idea could have torn her away after she and Albert had talked outside, and she watched him avidly since she returned to the room – but now, with a whole day in front of her just to write, she could let herself go.

She picked up the most recent bundle of sheets, all covered in small, closely written scribbles. Frowning, she started to drift through her narrative of the day before, to try and get herself back into it. She had meant to finish the chapter today and then tomorrow type it up, to join the rest of the manuscript stored neatly in the drawer. She didn’t, at the moment, intend to do anything with any of these, but it was nice to have it typed up and it meant she could edit at the same time. However, she really did need to save up and buy her own typewriter – tomorrow was Anna’s day off, so she was fairly sure that Joey would be too busy to want her own, but Con usually had to squeeze in her editing when neither Jack or Joey wanted theirs.

Her frown deepened, and she read one particular sentence again, then the whole paragraph. It was complete nonsense. Her characters were wooden and completely different to how she intended them to be. Her main character was acting chivalrously, pushing aside the advances of the side character (who had been doing her utmost to annoy Con ever since that young lady introduced her) when he was supposed to be a rogue. He would do no such thing! He would welcome the opportunity to dance with her – and her heroine probably wouldn’t care, because her heroine had absolutely no feelings for him.

She dropped the papers and stared into space, agitated. This just wasn’t working; the only way two people who were completely apathetic to each other could be drawn together was through something dramatic, a near-death experience or being locked up together for a period of time. Despite the frequent occurrences of just those sort of things during her school years, Con knew that they were fairly uncommon in most people’s lives, and certainly wouldn’t intrude upon her characters. The whole thing was ill-planned, out of character and, quite frankly, pointless.

For a second she toyed with the idea of dashing her sheets to the floor, tearing them apart or crumpling them into tiny, tiny balls. She was fed up of getting so far into a book and discovering that the idea just didn’t work. She needed something fresh, and new, something with a happy ending. But her characters for this were good, in the sense that she could understand them, play them out in her mind. She had put hours of work into creating them, and hours more into guiding them through the situations which would shape and develop them. They were her children, and she was loathe to give them up.

She recalled an old trick Joey had taught her for if she ever became stuck with her writing. Ramming the sheets firmly into the top drawer of her desk, she rescued her hat from the jaws of her wardrobe, put it firmly on her head and sauntered downstairs, looking as breezy and unconcerned as ever. However cross she might get with her writing, she had learnt from experience not to show it; if she did, Joey would insist that she needed another day off and find her some task or another round the house which urgently needed completing. She didn’t have time for that. She could feel a solution tugging at the edge of her mind, she just needed to draw it out with logical thought.

Stepping out into the sun, she sighed in pleasure. The short grass was agreeably cool against her bare feet, and a light breeze ruffled her hair just enough to cool her off. She could hear the yells of the children from the rock garden, and made a note to stay away. Nobody was going to embroil her in anything today – she was going to sort this writing out. Her eyes drifted to a far off peak, the snow glinting as if filled with hidden diamonds in the distance. On this side of the house she was shielded from the road and any possible interference. She sat down, stretched her legs out, and began to think logically.

Her hero needed to marry her heroine, but there was no logical way for them to get to that point. They had met, and decided that they didn’t love each other (well, her hero was greatly attracted by the heroine’s wit and charm, as well as her vivacious beauty, but he could also see that she was spoilt and selfish and would most decidedly not make a good wife), so really there was nowhere for that story to go. She had intended for the heroine to gradually grow to like the hero, and the hero being the hero to decide that he wasn’t likely to find anyone better and take her despite not loving her in return, which would be a rather apt retribution for both of them, but then things had taken on a twist of their own.

Right, so if she couldn’t get them to the alter, they would need to be married already. But what sort of a story concerned a married couple who had their faults and just bickered constantly? It was the story of at least half of married couples; people read to get away from their own troubles, not to be reminded of them. That’s why they liked near death experiences or being locked in close confines for a lengthy period of time. She couldn’t possibly just show a married couple going to their ruin, she wasn’t that experienced yet. She needed big, exciting, dramatic happenings which rocked daily life to its core to have something to write about. But what could possibly happen in her character’s sheltered world?

Certainly nothing that might not happen to even the most ordinary of people. Because her characters were just ordinary people; they didn’t save lives, or fight evil or explore new places. He went to work, she shouted at the maid, he came back from work, she shouted at him, they occasionally had high tea with their friends, if the false people who liked them simply for their status could be called such. They certainly wouldn’t have married each other for love. But love was important, it was something that everyone should have.

So her heroine, in time honoured tradition, must fight between what was good and what was moral. After all, morally she should love her husband. But didn’t she also have a moral duty to grasp true love wherever she found it? Didn’t she have a moral duty to herself to look after her own happiness? What made the story interesting was that she was already married. She had made her decision, committed herself. Could she stand by it when she fell in love, though? Did she have the will to say no?

Con shook her head and dragged herself back a little. It was all very good, these flighty ideas of hers, but even more unrealistic than her first idea had been. After all, tall, dark, handsome strangers did not just wander into one’s life one day and change everything. You did not just wake up one morning and decided that today a man you met by complete coincidence, a man you knew nothing of before then, a man whom you could never be with for so many reasons, was going to be the man that you fell in love with. Except –

Con knew her tall, dark, handsome stranger, and knew that they could never be together. That didn’t mean her characters had to be the same.

She jumped up so suddenly that her hat blew off, but she stopped only long enough to stoop and pick it up before running back towards the house, the idea having eventually been tempted out of the murky recesses of her imagination. She heard Joey calling for her, but she dashed up the stairs so fast that her name was still echoing along the hallway as she slammed her door shut, cast her hat aside impatiently and drew a sheet of paper eagerly towards herself, beginning to plan frenziedly.

Author:  Alison H [ Wed Jun 10, 2009 9:38 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Well done for ignoring Joey :lol: .

Author:  PaulineS [ Wed Jun 10, 2009 10:41 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Go for it Con!

Author:  crystaltips [ Wed Jun 10, 2009 8:01 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Glad Con has got the storyline straight in her head - hope it translates onto paper as well.

Sorry though, that she seems to have so little self-esteem. I hope that Albert can change her mind about herself.

Thanks ChubbyMonkey

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Fri Jun 12, 2009 12:24 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Love seeing how Con is sorting out the charcters and what makes them tick

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sat Jun 13, 2009 5:42 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Sincere apologies for the delay - work eats up more time than I was expecting. Also sorry that this is so short, I promise to move the storyline onwards a bit more soon!

- X -

It was just the normal day in the normal life of a normal woman. Annabella had woken at her usual time, overseen the usual scrum of children and husband trying to get ready for school and work respectively and then settled down to a leisurely breakfast of her own with the day’s newspaper (which the cleaner always made sure to buy on her way to work). The only slight deviation from her normal routine was the indulgent way she enjoyed her orange juice and salmon on toast. Most days she had a charity function, or a business lunch to meet her husband for, or a shopping trip to attend with several very boring partners of her husband’s very boring work colleagues, whom she had to be nice to for her husband’s sake. Today she had a clear diary, and although nobody else would have made much of an extra ten minutes to read even the smallest of news stories before they got ready, to Annabella it was heaven.

It took her half an hour to choose an appropriate outfit and make herself generally fit to be seen. She always attended to breakfast in the silk dressing gown her husband had brought her back from a trip to Japan, but her wardrobe was plentifully supplied with every kind of outfit she could possibly need and more. Today she chose a white blouse with a dark blue skirt and matching jacket that she shrugged over her arm to put on once she had driven into town. Her elegantly styled hair was tugged back into a knot at the nape of her neck, and creams and potions applied in thick layers. Once she had finished she looked every inch the dutiful wife doing what was expected and spending a lot of her husband’s money.

The drive into town was easy, and two hours before she expected to stop for lunch she had parked and was walking eagerly towards her favourite boutique. Even this time alone fell into a carefully organised routine, with shops that must be visited and shops she should really look around but could be carefully avoided if she happened to spend too long in a shop which must be visited. Then there were the shops which were never visited under any circumstance, and were generally best walked by from the opposite side of the street; shops where she was likely to meet one of her husband’s work colleagues
very boring partners and their latest brat or two. All children, to Annabella, were brats, even her own son and daughter who featured in her life only as a means of making new friends and filling in time with school governors’ meetings. Just to walk past these shops was to risk being spotted and diverted for a cup of coffee while she got to hear all about George’s first word or Daisy eventually learning to sleep through the night.

Lunch would be taken in a local restaurant where she was known by name and even had her own special table which, if free, would be granted to her immediately. She wouldn’t have anything too extravagant, perhaps only two courses, and of course she would stay for a cup of coffee afterwards while she relaxed and watched people on the street hurrying by. The coffee that was available in that particular restaurant was like nectar, and she could almost smell it just thinking about it as she browsed the rail of new clothes in one of her favourite stores.

After that, she would complete her shopping, maybe buy a trifle or two for her husband so he wouldn’t complain about the amount that she spent, and some new clothes for Mary, who’d started to outgrow a lot of her old things – most of which she’d now worn in public at least twice in any case. Then, purchases under control, she would go home and relax while she waited for the part time nanny to bring the children home from school. She still cooked meals for everyone, but with the house clean and the children looked after she would have time to sit down and read the latest scintillating bodice-ripper she had been recommended. Her evening would be dedicated to making sure that her husband was not displeased with his house and his family – she knew from the woman she went out with who would glare daggers at any passing young thing in a short skirt the dangers of going down that route – and lastly that he was not bored and unstimulated by her.

Everything in Annabella’s normal life was ordered, until that normal day when she stopped for just a second to throw a handful of change at a penniless artist offering quickly drawn portraits of people on the street.

Author:  PaulineS [ Sat Jun 13, 2009 8:17 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the update.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sun Jun 14, 2009 6:19 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks, lovely to see more of this

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Jun 14, 2009 5:57 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou so much for the lovely comments :)

- X -

The next day heralded cloudless blue skies, deep sunshine and little chance of even the tiniest of refreshing breezes. Con had spent the day before cooped up in her room, writing the first chapter of her new idea before lunch and then spending the afternoon typing it out and editing it as necessary. Even Joey’s orders wouldn’t tempt her to take it into the garden – where she was liable to be interrupted by anyone at any given moment – and she had looked peaky and withdrawn at breakfast as a consequence. Little did she know, but Jack had purposefully forgotten the files she now swung under her arm, hinting to Joey that he would need them just after lunch and the meeting simply couldn’t continue without them.

Con could hardly protest the simple errand, especially as even Margot had been helping around the house more than she was at the moment, and the pill was sweetened by both the nice weather and having Len next to her. The two sisters walked along, with a relaxed if purposeful stride, not talking but not needing to, either. Len was going to visit Reg while they were at the San., and Con knew that she would probably be walking back alone. The engaged couple had only seen each other once since Len returned from university, it was safe to assume Reg would wheedle the afternoon off and take her out somewhere.

Tiny yellow and red flowers beamed at them from beside the rough path tramped through the grass down the ages, and distant mountain peaks reared into the sky. Without a layer of cloud even blanketing them the snow and glaciers were fully visible, and more than once Con stopped to shade her eyes and appreciate the beauty she still hadn’t grown bored of. Even Len looked better for her walk, some of the old colour returning to her cheeks. On an impulse, Con held out a hand, a silent gesture which had an equally silent response. The quiet between them was maintained, apart from a passing ‘hallo’ to other walkers, until they were nearly at the San.

Con stopped and pulled Len off the path a little way, so that they could sit down among the springy grass – after having carefully checked for ant’s nests first. They gazed out across the long line of jagged teeth, fingers still entwined. For once it was Len who seemed distant, eyes clouded over and face set. Content to let her daydream, Con said nothing for about five minutes, until suddenly she blurted out,

“You don’t have to see Reg. If – if you don’t want to, of course. You could have been watching Phil and Geoff all of this time.”

“No,” whispered Len, almost to herself. Then she shook her head more definitely, and turned to meet Con’s concerned brown eyes. “No, I want to see him. I love him, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re starting to realise what being in love with him means, and you don’t like it?”

“No! No, it isn’t like that. It isn’t – of course I want to –“

“Want to spend your whole life stuck up here having to look after the rest of the family because mum can’t do without you, and trying to supply her with all of the grandchildren that she needs, and keeping Reg happy at the same time, and letting your degree go completely to waste without ever seeing the world?”

“Want to be with him,” she finished simply, with a note of finality in her voice that brooked no arguments. Con sighed but didn’t press the issue further, and after a few minutes they stood up again, dusting themselves off and making sure the all important files were still intact. When they regained the path again they quickened their pace, eager to get there now and put the awkward conversation behind them.

Jack’s secretary was surprisingly willing to let them in, and they found themselves speedily within his office. He greeted them both genially, and sent for Reg almost straight away. His desk was spread with papers full of small, neat handwriting and illegible scrawls – often on the same page. There were also the remnants of a sandwich definitely different from the one Anna had made him that morning, and which he intimated Joey needn’t find out about. Both girls giggled; time alone with Jack was precious, even under these circumstances, especially with so many other children around, and they all tended to think of him far more as the serious doctor than the relaxed, jovial father he could so easily be.

When Reg arrived he was in earnest discussion with Albert about a case they were tackling, although the latter stopped short when he saw who was in the office. He suddenly looked decidedly shifty, although Con wasn’t much better – she muttered something which might have been a greeting and examined her feet in great detail. Reg happily swept Len away, with Jack’s blessing to take the afternoon off, and the remaining three people all sat in silence for a moment; two awkward but Jack with his simple, professional, brusque air. In the end Albert explained,

“I need to go and visit Mr. Winslow, I should be back in an hour or so.”

“As you’re going that way,” said Jack expansively, leaning back in his chair with a bemused twinkle in his eye, “why don’t you walk Con home for me? It would be a relief to know that she is safe with you.”

“I – I’d like that a lot,” stammered Albert, blushing unexpectedly. “I have to leave now, though.”

Both men turned to Con, who was doing her best to hide in the corner without looking as if she were hiding in the corner. She looked at Jack, but he wasn’t going to offer her any mercy, and only affirmed that he would be getting back to his work now that his lunch was over. The meeting would be waiting for him at any minute. Not seeing any other choice, Con accepted the offer gratefully, although her heart beat in her ears and suddenly her throat was dry.

It was only while she waited at the gate for Albert to collect the things he needed that she realised just how long the walk back to Freudesheim was. She only hoped that she would be able to think of something to say when confronted with the man who could make her this nervous just with a look.

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Jun 14, 2009 7:37 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Jack is lovely in this.

It's a shame that Len's in such an awkward position: she obviously wants to be with Reg, but he's at a stage of his life where he's ready to settle down and she perhaps isn't, and they're going to have to be separated for three years whilst she finishes her degree and I suppose neither of them would really want to be apart for any longer.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Mon Jun 15, 2009 2:06 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Though I can't understand why Reg doesn't go to England and work there while Len is studying for her degree. It would be horrible to be apart if they do really love each other and it doesn't sound like they see each other much even when Len is home

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jun 15, 2009 3:42 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Apparently fridges were invented much earlier than I thought. The new things I've learnt in the course of my drabble writing!

- X -

Albert arrived promptly and the pair started to meander back along the path, Con with her eyes fixed firmly on the grassy floor while Albert stared into the distance, looking almost self-conscious. At first they were both too awkward to talk, although Albert seemed as if he had something that he wanted to say, and the only noise was the sound of bird song, and the occasional chatter of voices from one of the houses that they walked past. In the end, it was Con who started to talk, doing her best to sound confident and unconcerned.

“How long have you worked at the San.?”

She kicked herself for the foolish question almost as soon as she said it, but Albert, glad of the welcome opening into the conversation, began to tell her about his transferal nearly five years previously, and the fields that he worked in. Con listened attentively; she had next to no idea what her father did for a job, but it must be something similar to Albert, at least. It was also just a pleasure to hear his voice. She had managed to convince herself that there would be no occasion to meet him again, and so to not only do so but to be alone with him for this length of time made her heart leap.

Calamity fell when she started to listen so attentively that she stopped concentrating on her path ahead. She was gazing at him intently, in a way which would almost certainly have unnerved him had he not been watching her just as raptly, and she failed to see the log end half obscuring the path ahead. Albert had just started to tell her about his decision to specialise, not realising that he was rambling (not that Con did, either, being far too caught up in watching him to listen properly), when she suddenly fell forwards with a tiny cry. He caught her, but only just, and it was with great difficulty that he supported her weight long enough to lower her into a sitting position on the offending branch.

She was a dark red, but she also bit her lip anxiously, pain flaring up in her eyes. Albert mentally cursed himself for becoming so involved in admiring her that he failed to see the danger, but the damage was done. He knelt down next to her, digging around in his bag until he found a bottle of water, which he passed up to her. She drank gratefully, her blushing started to subside now and be replaced with her former paleness as the pain kicked in properly.

“Twisted ankle?” he asked sympathetically, and when she nodded he slipped off her simple sandal and began to examine the limb in question, which was starting to swell already. His face set as he concentrated on the task in hand, so that he failed to notice Con watching him. She was still biting her lip, but this time not out of pain and surprise; she could feel herself falling once again, losing herself to the man kneeling in front of her. She was actually trembling she was so overcome, even telling herself that he could never feel the same way about her had little effect. In the end, she was jolted out of her senses by the sudden shock of an ice pack being applied to the area.

“Sorry,” she murmured, as he glanced up, concerned at her sudden movement.

“Just hold still, if you can,” he replied easily, his warm fingers resting on her leg as he held the ice in place. “Sorry I can’t do anything better for it; it was fresh before I left, but in this heat even such a short distance has started to melt it. How does it feel now?”

“Better,” smiled Con, ignoring the twinges every time she tried to move. She didn’t want to look like a spineless jellyfish, in front of Albert especially.

“Do you think you can walk, if I hold you up?” he asked, still looking up at her. “You need to get home, really, and keep it still for a few days so that the inflammation can go down. I can always run back and fetch someone to help, if you don’t think you could walk on it?”

“I think I’ll be ok,” Con managed, although the prospect was daunting. Albert acquiesced reluctantly, and ten minutes later saw them standing up, Con leaning on the doctor heavily. Thankfully the ground was relatively even, without sprawling tree roots or hidden grassy knolls. They managed admirably well, despite Albert’s continued worried look, and Con was almost pleased at moments when she considered that under no other circumstance would she have had such a good excuse to press so close to him, and to feel his strong muscles shifting underneath her fingers as they walked.

A short way down the path, about halfway back to Freudesheim, she leaned her head against his shoulder, and at once he suggested a rest. They sat, side by side, Con still leaning against him as she tried to regain her breath. Once she had, she tried to match her breathing in time with his own, looking out across the distance now. She could feel his gaze on her, but rather than embarrass her it made her smile; the kind way in which he had accepted the situation and done everything he could to make it easier for her convinced her more than anything else that this was the man she was going to fall in love with, if she hadn't already. It also told her, more plainly than words could have, that even if he didn’t feel quite the same way he wasn’t adverse to her completely.

“Not far to go now,” he said pleasantly, helping her to stand up once again. The rest of the walk, afterwards, seemed comparatively short, though at the time her ankle was becoming more and more painful again. By the time they reached the gate to Freudesheim Con was convinced that Albert would have to carry her the last part, though she was determined to resist saying anything until she absolutely had to. The front door was such a welcome relief that it took every bit of courage she could muster not to start crying.

She hobbled up to the front door still leaning on his broad, strong shoulders, and rang the bell shortly. Her face was starting to show the strain that the journey had taken, now, as well as the oppressive heat which had only got worse as they progressed slowly. Joey answered almost immediately, worried that Con had taken so long over such a simple errand. When she saw her daughter in the hands of a capable doctor she let out a sigh of relief, questioning them both about what had happened.

Albert explained, insisted that he really didn’t have time to come in for a cup of tea on this occasion as his patient would be wondering where he was, and he was due back at the San., and prepared to be off again. It was only once Joey had thanked him once more for looking after Con and seeing her home that he threw in his final parting. Con engraved his words on her memory afterwards, the image of him standing in the sunshine seeming so relaxed and calm, hair slightly ruffled largely thanks to her, one that would always make her smile.

“Obviously the ankle needs to be rested for a few days now, but once you’re better I hoped that I might be able to invite you over to my house one afternoon? I want to talk to you about something, but I’m sure that it will wait until then. I can always pass on the message through Jigger, if you don’t want to come. In the meantime, put as little pressure on that as possible and don’t overexert yourself.”

“I’d love to come,” smiled Con happily, relinquishing her hold on him and taking Joey’s proffered arm gladly. “Dad can let you know when I feel up to it, I’m sure. Thankyou so much for all of your help today, you’ve been amazing.”

“All in the line of work,” he smiled, nodding to Joey and walking back up the path as nonchalantly as he could manage when his legs felt weak at the thought of being able to see Con again. Both women stayed to watch him leave, Con happily but Joey with a small frown. She was sure she recognised the note in Con’s voice as she spoke, and she didn’t like the way her daughter had looked at Albert, either. She only hoped it wasn’t going the way that she thought it was.

Author:  Alison H [ Mon Jun 15, 2009 3:48 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Will Joey never learn to mind her own business?

Author:  shazwales [ Mon Jun 15, 2009 5:31 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I am really enjoying this, but when will Joey learn to let her family grow up?

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Tue Jun 16, 2009 12:01 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm wondering why Joey feels that way about Albert. Is there something we don't know about? It's not a case of Con's story reflecting life is it?

Author:  keren [ Tue Jun 16, 2009 8:09 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Why shouldn't Joey like this, as it seems to me tha tJack it doing his best to throw them together!

Author:  jmc [ Tue Jun 16, 2009 8:18 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I wish Jo could just let her girls do thier own thing. She was keen to let Len get engaged to Reg so what has she got against Albert? If she had two of her girls engaged to doctors you think she would be over the moon.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Jun 16, 2009 10:40 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou again for your comments - all will be explained in time, promise!

- X -

The room was darkened, the only window being overhung with a thick black length of material which doubled as blinds and curtains. Most things in the room were like this; why bother buying something which only served one purpose, when there would be something which served two? The bed and sofa were interchangeable, the coffee table could have been a bookcase, and the sink in the bathroom was also the sink for the kitchen. The only corner of the room in any sort of order was marked out by the messy pile of paint tins, brushes, canvases and jars of week old water. The easel stood proudly in the middle of it all, the majestic king over his courtiers.

Annabella, snuggled up to the unfamiliar, warm body, looked around the room with great interest. She had never known anything other than neatly ordered, structured rooms, where even the vases had to be at exact right angles and nothing was ever allowed out of place. This window to something else, the sheer chaos, appealed to her in some way. Her eyes lingered on a painting hung up, showing a starry sky of different colours, all exploding outwards. To her it said freedom, the possibility of escape from the mundane stripes of everyday life.

Noticing that he was failing to grip her attention any longer, the body next to her shifted and sat up, the thin rug which served him as a duvet falling away. He swung bronzed legs over the edge of the sofa and yawned, stretching and idly smiling down at her. Everything that he did seemed so foreign to her; her husband would never have shown off so much, he was shy of his body even around her. It drove her mad, being forced to look away until he had pulled on a dressing gown despite the supposed intimacy moments before. This other man, this whole other life, was the complete opposite of everything she knew.

It was the mystery and the intrigue which had drawn her in. When he’d wordlessly handed her a piece of paper with an address scribbled on it she’d been tempted to throw it away, but in the end she settled for losing it in her handbag and forgetting about it. It stayed that way for two weeks, playing at the edges of her mind and being firmly pushed aside, until one day she was in town and her friend cancelled the meeting at the last possible second. Then, with nothing better to do, she had found herself almost unconsciously wandering towards the flat. That time she simply stood outside, looking. The second time she knocked, and they ended up going for a coffee at the local, run down café. The third time they hadn’t walked back towards her car afterwards, but to his flat. This time she had come straight in, with none of the pretence of before.

“What’s your name?” she asked once more, still curious. The body shifted, and watched her with a laugh. She was gripping the rug around her lithe body so that only the outline could be traced, and her eyes were wide with curiosity until she looked almost like a small child.

“Himerus.”

She sighed, but smiled as well. That had been all he would tell her since the first time they met. He knew that her husband was called Jonathon, he’d learnt that in the café during their initial, awkward, stumbling excuses for a conversation. When his skilled fingers traced her stretch marks she told him about John and Mary, her children. When he brushed her hair back from her face he would murmur her name almost like a song. But all she knew about him was that one word; Himerus.

She’d looked him up. He was the Greek god of lust, and had been tricked into taking his sister; filled with shame when he realised what he’d done, he drowned himself. At first, it seemed so apt for this stranger to be her God of lust, but when she found out more she shuddered. Was that his way of hinting at a dark past? What had he done that stopped him from being truthful with her? The danger, the mystery, it had all scared her at first, but now it excited her. She wanted to dig deeper, find out more, explore this lone individual who seemed to exist solely to paint.

“Stay there,” he said suddenly, in his deep, gravelly voice. “Don’t move.”

He settled himself in front of her, a sketchpad resting on his lap. His pencil flew over the page as he began to sketch her lying there, the epitome of innocence despite being everything but what she seemed to portray. He was silent as he worked, and Annabella watched in equal quiet, her mind lost to her own thoughts. She had never imagined that she could ever do something like this, it was so different, so unlike her; she was safe, dependable, false even. She didn’t have secret trysts with odd men who refused to even tell their name. She didn’t take risks. And she definitely didn’t fall in love.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Wed Jun 17, 2009 9:29 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Sorry for spreeing :oops: Also sorry if this drabble no longer has any interest to anyone. If so, I shall stop taking up board space with it.

- X -

A week later Con had been declared well enough to go out again, so, with the next three chapters of her book written and the fourth started well, she had dressed to go and visit Albert. He had left detailed directions with Jack, who was going to escort Con so far on his way to work. She felt butterflies as she went down to meet him – presumably Albert had told her father why he wanted to meet her, but she had been over and over it in her own mind and she couldn’t fathom any possible reason for such summons.

Jack laughed when she tapped on his study door, and pointed out that there was still ten minutes before they were due to leave, and then they were going to be early. All the same, he shuffled his papers together and began to sort them into the right order, tidying up around him before he went out. His daughter watched silently from the doorway; she’d never before noticed the grey hairs steadily winding through Jack’s hair, or the lines around his eyes and his mouth. For the first time he looked almost old.

Impulsively, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. It was easy enough for her to track her own growing up, but her parents didn’t seem to have an age, they would always be the same. He laughed and squeezed her, burying his head in her hair for a moment or two. Little did Con guess, but he was also marveling at the passage of time since he’d come home from that dreadful war that he tried so hard to forget to meet the three tiny babies he and Joey had been blessed with. With so many babies in the house it was too easy to pretend that all of your children were still so young.

“We’d best be off,” he said after a minute, reluctantly stepping back. “You wouldn’t want to be late, would you.”

His teasing brought a flush to her face, but even though she turned quickly Jack laughed gently. It really couldn’t have been that long since he used to squirm under Jem’s teasing about Joey, and here he was doing the same to his own daughter. More than anything else, though, it told him that it might be about time to have that small talk with Albert about being a gentleman. That could wait; today was Con’s day, and he was sure that she was going to enjoy it.

They stopped in the hall to shout a farewell to Joey, who was busy upstairs telling Geoff off for teasing Bruno and called distractedly down, but Con’s former impatience to be off had returned and Jack had to stop himself from going and administering the justly deserved rebuke to his youngest son. Phil, hearing the shouts, appeared to kiss him goodbye, but after that he thought it best to escape before Con just took the car and drove herself over. She didn’t look as if she could stand to wait any longer. As Jack stashed his briefcase in the boot, he smiled to himself. A diagnosis of first, young love was needed here it seemed.

The drive over was silent so that Jack could concentrate on where he was going, but when he pulled up outside the address they’d been given he stopped and turned to Con. There was so much he wanted to say to her, so much knowledge that he wanted to impart. He wanted to tell her all of the hopes and dreams he’d once had for her before it was too late, he needed to make her understand that no matter what she did with her life he would always love her, and support her, and be there for her when no-one else was. All of this he tried to do, but as ever the important words wouldn’t come. He kissed her cheek, wished her luck, and watched as she walked up and nervously knocked on the door.

It was opened by a buxom lady whose face was transformed by a wide smile as she ushered Con in. The door shut and Jack, with one last look back, pulled away, unable to stop himself from looking in the mirror just once more as he drove off. Part of the reason for Con visiting today was that he was only going in for one meeting, and would be coming back in an hour or so to collect her, to save her ankle the strain of trying to get home again.

Meanwhile, Con was being ushered through to the garden where, under the shade of some well-placed firs, Albert had laid out iced drinks and some light cakes. She approached slowly, suddenly overwhelmed by everything; she was here, alone with Albert, with nobody else to talk to or anything. Even walking back from the San there had been other walkers, and she could have pretended to be interested in the view if she needed to take a deep breath. Now there were unlikely to be any distractions. She did her best to master herself, and not give in to the almost overwhelming thought of simply blurting out her feelings for the man just standing up to greet her.

Author:  Alison H [ Wed Jun 17, 2009 9:37 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

All those picnics they went on and I think this is the first time I've ever read about a potential SLOC organising one as a romantic gesture - what a lovely idea :D .

Author:  abbeybufo [ Wed Jun 17, 2009 10:43 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

ChubbyMonkey wrote:
...sorry if this drabble no longer has any interest to anyone. If so, I shall stop taking up board space with it.

Sorry not to have been commenting before - I, certainly, am enjoying reading this, and interested in how it goes, so please don't stop :D

Author:  dackel [ Wed Jun 17, 2009 11:53 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm really enjoying it, too - please don't stop posting! I've only had time to quickly read the drabbles without commenting recently but I've been thrilled by the regularity of your updates - they're something to look forward to every day!

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Wed Jun 17, 2009 1:22 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I shan't stop posting if people are still reading, I just wanted to make sure I wasn't just taking up precious board space :oops: Sorry.

Author:  Joanne [ Wed Jun 17, 2009 1:35 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Please do keep going! I want to find out more about Annabella, as well as see how Con's romance goes!

Author:  crystaltips [ Wed Jun 17, 2009 4:32 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Please don't stop ChubbyMonkey - I want to see how this turns out. Is there a secret about Albert that Jo knows? Otherwise I can't see why she wouldn't be all over another potential doctor son-in-law.

Author:  Chatelaine [ Wed Jun 17, 2009 4:50 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

crystaltips wrote:
Please don't stop ChubbyMonkey - I want to see how this turns out. Is there a secret about Albert that Jo knows? Otherwise I can't see why she wouldn't be all over another potential doctor son-in-law.


I always got the impression that Joey was happy enough to have Len married to a doctor at the San, but she also wanted someone at home to act as unpaid nanny/secretary/general dogsbody, and Con suited her purpose. So if Con is showing signs of wanting a life other than the one laid out for her by her mother, it stands to reason Joey won't be happy!

I'm enjoying this drabble, ChubbyMonkey - everyone seems so believable in it, and Con's book is certainly intriguing :D

Author:  RroseSelavy [ Wed Jun 17, 2009 6:08 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

crystaltips wrote:
Please don't stop ChubbyMonkey - I want to see how this turns out. Is there a secret about Albert that Jo knows? Otherwise I can't see why she wouldn't be all over another potential doctor son-in-law.


Or Con's art really is imitating life, as someone suggested, and Jo is having an affair with Albert :shock:

Serisouly though, please don't stop, ChubbyMonkey! I'm another one who's enjoying this, so thank you :)

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Thu Jun 18, 2009 12:25 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Jack was so lovely there about Con. Would love to see more

Author:  jmc [ Thu Jun 18, 2009 7:19 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm adding my pleas to everyone elses. Please don't stop. I am really enjoying this and can't wait to see if there is some big secret about Albert.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Jun 18, 2009 10:34 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Wow, :shock: I didn't know so many people were reading this. Which makes my poor excuse for German even more embarrassing, please excuse it :oops:

- X -

They shook hands warmly, Albert beaming at her as she sat down and immediately enquiring after her ankle. She smiled to herself, encouraged by his concern for her. In a family as large as her own, something as simple as a sprained ankle went unremarked mostly, to have someone interested in her and her alone – not the triplets, or the other children, or her parents – was a rare phenomenon, and one that she almost didn’t know how to respond to. All the same, she answered politely while Albert poured out tea for them both. However, she found that after that she was shy and awkward, unsure if he would mind her asking intruding questions about his own life but not wanting to talk too much about herself.

“Cake?” he asked, leaning forwards and offering her the plate. She accepted a small, flaky pastry with jam nestling securely in the middle, while he chose a piece of the sponge cake. Above them was the call of a baby bird who had lost his mother, and there was the occasional shifting of undergrowth as something ran through the hedge to one side of them. Very distantly, they would occasionally hear a snatch of singing from his housekeeper, or a motor car passing outside, but other than that the setting was idyllic.

Once Con had finished her cake she sat back, looking over the hedge to the distant peaks that she could see. She was aware of Albert watching her, but by sheer force of will alone she managed not to turn her head. It was only once they had both finished, and Albert had sat back reflectively, sipping his tea, that the conversation really began.

“I wanted to talk to you about my brother,” he said slowly, ponderingly, as if he had planned out these words beforehand. “I should like to write to him about you, but I didn’t want to take such a liberty without your permission. You see, he’s a publisher in London who is always looking for new writers, and I think that he would be very interested in seeing some of your work.”

Con found, to her horror, that her mouth was dry and the words she wanted to say suddenly blocked the bottom of her throat, so that she couldn’t speak through them. Whatever she had been expecting when she came here, this was very far from it. For nearly a minute she just stared at him in complete bewilderment; yes, of course she loved her writing, and put a lot of effort in to it, it was more than just a hobby, but she hadn’t thought about publishers yet. There was a hazy one day, when she might send a manuscript off to one or two just to see their response, but her motivation at the moment was simply that she needed to write, she needed to give life to the people in her imagination. None of this came. Of everything she could have said, all the questions she had waiting to tumble out, what she eventually managed to squeak was,

“How do you know about my work?”

“Ah,” said Albert uncomfortably. This was evidently one question he had been hoping to avoid. “Well, you see, Jack said that you wouldn’t mind if he showed me a piece, when he found out I was interested, and so he lent me a couple of old editions of the school magazine that you used to write for. I hope I haven’t upset you by being too presumptuous?”

“No,” Con hastened to reassure him, her hands twisting uncomfortably in her lap. “No, of course not, I just mean that – I was just curious –“ she trailed off, but took a deep breath and managed to say with only a slight tremor in her voice, “I didn’t think that you’d be that interested. It was just small stories, nothing special.”

“Con,” said her host quietly, then stopped and seemed to check himself. She twisted her fingers through the fabric of her dress, needing the smooth fluidity through her fingers to reassure herself that she wasn’t dreaming during his next words. “Con, I – I like you. A lot. And I think – I hope you don’t think I’m being rude, but – I think you feel the same way about me. If you don’t then all I can do is apologise a thousand times, it was entirely my fault, and I don’t mean to upset you, but –“

“I do,” Con interrupted suddenly. “I do like you too. But I never knew that you felt that way, I never thought –“

“Don’t say anything more,” interposed Albert softly. He reached out a hand and entangled his fingers with her own, his large, warm hand blanketing her own small, inexplicably cold one. They rested against the top of the table, and Con thought that she’d never been happier. All the awkwardness, the halting conversation, it all seemed to melt away under the steady gaze from his deep blue eyes. Neither could say how long they sat there like that, just looking at each other, but suddenly the housekeeper bustled out. They jumped apart as if they’d been scalded.

“Hier ist Herr Docktor Maynard,” she greeted, moving back to the house at Albert’s dismissive wave. He and Con stood up together, but before Con could walk away he reached out and stopped her.

“I’ll let you know when we can see each other again,” he murmured, and Con nodded softly. Then, eyes still sparkling happily, she turned and ran off. It didn’t do to keep Jack waiting.

Author:  Chris [ Thu Jun 18, 2009 12:13 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Please don't stop writing this - I need to know what happens next! It is lovely to see Con growing up and developing her own friendships etc.

Author:  JS [ Thu Jun 18, 2009 1:51 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Quote:
“I’ll let you know when we can see each other again,” he murmured


That sounds ominous - but surely Jack would know if he was married/involved?

Author:  abbeybufo [ Thu Jun 18, 2009 2:00 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

JS wrote:
Quote:
“I’ll let you know when we can see each other again,” he murmured


That sounds ominous - but surely Jack would know if he was married/involved?


Albert's already made the point of saying he's not married :shock: :shock: :shock:

Thanks Ariel :D

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Jun 18, 2009 4:25 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I've done another update tonight, as I don't think I'll get one done tomorrow, sorry.

- X -

“How was this afternoon?”

Con looked up from her notebook, she was jotting down some ideas for where she wanted her writing to go next, and smiled at her big sister in the doorway. Len was wearing her bathrobe, having apparently just had a shower, and her hair was caught up in a towel. Con beckoned her on to the bed, finished off her note to herself, and joined her visitor. Len was sat on the edge of the bed; as Con flopped down behind her, she eyed the interesting outfit, for they’d only had dinner an hour previously, Len shouldn’t have been going to bed yet.

“Felix and Geoff decided to sneak down that box of chocolates mamma’s been hiding in the cupboard and see who could eat the most while they were hanging upside down off the side of Geoff’s bed – don’t ask. Anyway, I came in and hauled them up, and Geoff was promptly sick all over me. They’re both being dressed down and sent off to bed now, I think.”

“I did wonder,” remarked Con, with unusual dryness. Len laughed, a clear, natural laugh more reminiscent of their days at school together, when they would occasionally – just occasionally – sneak out of their dormitories at night to see each other, if they thought Matey wouldn’t catch them. Con smiled to hear it again, after so long of worrying about her triplet.

“Enough of naughty little boys. What happened this afternoon? I’m guessing papa knows from the teasing looks he kept giving mama across the table, but you could tell me.”

“I just had afternoon tea with Albert,” protested Con sweetly, tucking her arms behind her head and watching the ceiling complacently. Len stared at her, with what Con liked to call her Head Girl stare, until the younger girl chuckled and admitted, “Ok, he did say something, but that’s between us.”

“I should scrag you,” said Len, as she shook her long hair free of the towel and borrowed Con’s comb to start untangling it. “Come on, you know that you can tell me. Since when did we have secrets from each other?”

Con considered, head tipped slightly to one side so that she could watch Len struggling with a particularly obnoxious knot. She wanted to tell her sister, more than anything else, because she wanted to talk to someone, she wanted advice and to know that she was doing the right thing. Len would know, she’d felt the same way herself, she would understand perhaps as nobody else could. And yet there was something inside Con that was reluctant to share her secret, even with her best friend. It was something private, between her and Albert, she wanted to keep those precious minutes under the trees just for her.

“How did you know that you were in love?” she asked in the end, rolling on to her side and propping her head up on her hand. Len sent her a startled look, but put the comb down and bit her lip, considering.

“I don’t know,” she confessed in the end, pushing Con up so that she could lie down as well. “There wasn’t really a definable time when I looked at Reg and thought ‘I love him’. I don’t – I knew that I had to marry him when he went missing, but before that I never really –“

Con looked oddly at her sister, but she had acquired some common sense over the years, enough to know that whatever Len wanted to say would have to come in her own time, it couldn’t be forced out of her. Questions would just drive her away. She fiddled with a loose thread on her pillow until Len looked like she had her emotions more under control. But the tears sparkling in her eyes, and the return of her old, dreary expression decided Con. She dropped the subject of feelings completely and instead said with a startling suddenness,

“He wanted to tell me that his brother was a publisher. He thinks that he might be interested in my work, and Albert was going to send him something from ‘The Chaletian’ and find out. I don’t know that he should, though, after all they were only little stories I didn’t think anyone outside the school could ever be interested in them.”

“He can only say no,” said Len practically. She sat up suddenly, abruptly bringing the conversation to an end, and started to collect her towel up. Neither could have said, afterwards, just why she did it, but Con, with some vague thoughts of lightening the mood before she was left alone, suddenly exclaimed,

“Your hair has left my pillow all wet. Well, you can just take it and fetch me your nice dry, clean one instead, you – you wet-haired monster.”

“I think not,” Len called, retreating hastily. Con grimaced, then threw her indeed damp pillow at the retreating back. She just missed, and was greeted only with Len’s mocking laughter down the corridor. Sighing to herself, she went to pick up the offending article, her mind elsewhere, on just what Len had been trying to say to her. She could formulate no conclusions then, however, and shortly afterwards she was pulled into a game with the younger children.

Author:  Alison H [ Thu Jun 18, 2009 6:08 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

It's helpful that his brother's a publisher, but I assume Con was hoping he'd have something a bit more romantic to say than that!

Author:  PaulineS [ Thu Jun 18, 2009 9:39 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the two updates.

Quote:
“Con,” said her host quietly, then stopped and seemed to check himself. She twisted her fingers through the fabric of her dress, needing the smooth fluidity through her fingers to reassure herself that she wasn’t dreaming during his next words. “Con, I – I like you. A lot. And I think – I hope you don’t think I’m being rude, but – I think you feel the same way about me. If you don’t then all I can do is apologise a thousand times, it was entirely my fault, and I don’t mean to upset you, but –“

“I do,” Con interrupted suddenly. “I do like you too. But I never knew that you felt that way, I never thought –“


I thought this was lovely and an appropriate start for a romantic interlude.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sat Jun 20, 2009 11:05 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Sorry for the delay in updates!

- X -

Con sat in front of her window, gazing unseeingly into the black void of night. Stars, tiny holes of hope in the midnight blanket of despair, winked above her, but her eyes were fixed on a point at the bottom of the garden. Slowly, she raised one slender hand and wiped away a tear that trickled down her cheek. All that she could see was a darkness, a confusion all around her.

She was so worried about Len. Her sister was changing, mutating into something new that Con couldn’t understand and didn’t like. Len had always been the grown up one of the three, and had always looked after them as best as she could, but now it was her turn to be looked after. If only Con could guess at what was wrong, but all she knew was that it concerned Reg. Unconsciously she rested a hand against the cold glass of the window, searching for her escape.

It had been a time of such great happiness for all of them when Len had become engaged to Reg. She hadn’t been quite as involved as everybody else, but they all just put it down to the shock which had come after they found out that Reg was safe, and nobody had ever seen her happier. That time, as they started to prepare for university, said goodbye to old friends and people they’d known all their lives, was a confusing kaleidoscope of new experiences. Con couldn’t pick out what had happened on what day anymore; once the three of them had sat in Margot’s room, going through their old clothes and working out what to leave behind for Felicity; another time they had been sat in a café in Geneva with Joey, on a day-trip out, to buy new things for university; she had been trying to explain to the children why she had to go away, that she would come back, what she would be studying.

One comment suddenly entered her mind, and made her shiver badly. They had been sat on the train to England, all three of them in a compartment alone. Jack and Joey had been unable to get away long enough to see them further than the first train station, and they had been traveling for nearly a day now. They were on the cusp of leaving mainland Europe for a whole year, an hour more would see them in England. Len looked out, the way they had come, and suddenly sighed wistfully,

“We are being carried away from everything.”

This time, Con didn’t try to wipe away the tears. Never before had she so clearly understood what Len meant when she said that. Then, it had been an adventure to her, a new life to forge and lead. They would get to see some of their cousins again after so long, to meet new people and learn new things. But for her triplet, everything important was behind her, and she was being forced away from it. She wouldn’t see Reg for the best part of a year, and however brilliant university was nothing could be as important to her as her husband-to-be.

She began to wonder if Len was thinking about not going back to university in September. Certainly she hadn’t been happy there, even though coming back she hadn’t seemed much happier either; there were flashes of the old Len, but Con could tell that even Reg was surprised by the young woman who had stepped back into the life of the Platz. Perhaps it would be best for her sister to stay behind, to take up the life she so badly seemed to need. And even though she knew she was being selfish, Con hoped that Len wouldn’t decide that. She knew how difficult being separated from Reg was for Len, but she wasn’t as strong as Margot and she didn’t think that she could cope with being so far spread from her own family.

It was no use asking Reg to come with them; at the time he had looked at moving to England, but the Welsh branch of the San wasn’t looking for staff, and he hadn’t wanted to give up his position with them. He would be looking for promotion in a year or two, and before that he was paid well. He wanted to stay, so that when Len did come back permanently he could give her the life she deserved. Besides, if he had moved they would still both need at least three days off to see each other properly, and he wouldn’t see her all summer while she was in Switzerland, so it would make very little difference to the amount of time that they got together. It was after she received the letter telling her, explaining his decision, that Len really began to change. Until that point she had been kept going by new experiences and the delighted hope that Reg would be coming to her soon, and the news that she really wasn’t going to see him again for so many months had crushed her. She showed Con the letter, then sat and cried. Con couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Len cry.

She needed her sister for more than one reason. At the start of the holidays she had hopefully thought that she really was independent at last, but everything had changed when she first met Albert. She wanted to keep it secret, so that if he didn’t feel the same, or if nothing ever came of it, she wouldn’t look foolish, but as with everything in her life she wanted to tell Len and Margot. In many ways Margot had never been as close to the older two as they were to each other, but for all that there was an unbreakable bond. There had been another good reason for Con not to tell anyone, though. Margot had been as happy as everyone when Len got engaged, nevertheless she had confided in Con that she couldn’t help being so wildly jealous. She knew that she would never fall in love, would never meet a man and settle down. She knew that she would never have children, and that, she said, was the hardest thing of all about her decision. Con didn’t want to hurt Margot even further by revealing that she, too, had met a special man.

Hadn’t Albert said that he felt the same about her, though? His words echoed around the room again as Con listened, the words that she had wanted so desperately to hear. She cursed herself, now, for being so idiotic; there were so many different ways she could have replied, so many other things she could have said, but she hadn’t, she’d just been foolish like usual. Would he still like her now? Would he really try and see her again? And how would he do it? Surely he couldn’t invite her over to his house again, not without arising suspicion which she wanted to avoid at all costs, and they would have more chance of privacy in a monkey house than they would at Freudesheim. The life of a doctor was hectic, and he probably wouldn’t have time too see her for more than a few hours, and even if they could have gone somewhere else she would still have had to explain to Joey why she was going, which she just wasn’t ready to do yet. Everything was so complicated, and she needed Len more than ever, but it would be nearly impossible to ask for her help now, when she was so caught up in her own problems.

Con sat at the window until long after Joey and Jack had gone to bed and the house was asleep. When she did eventually retire to bed, her feverish, restless thoughts continued for some hours, until eventually sheer exhaustion overcame her. She wasn’t aware of when she finally fell into a dream-muddled sleep.

Author:  PaulineS [ Sat Jun 20, 2009 11:33 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the long update. Hope Len is not going to give up University.

Author:  Alison H [ Sat Jun 20, 2009 2:38 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

This is a really interesting take on the Len-Reg situation. Apart from the odd mention of either Juliet or Con Stewart being a bit upset, EBD never particularly tackles the problems faced by the various people who are separated from their fiancés (other than in wartime which is obviously a different scenario) for long stretches at a time.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sat Jun 20, 2009 3:33 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Loved the explaination of Len and Reg. I always thought it would be hard to be so far from someone you love for so much of the time. I always thought it was odd Reg didn't go to England to be closer to Len. I still don't understand why he doesn't get a job at a Hospital. It doesn't necessarily need to be the San.

Also hope Con gets a chance to talk to Len properly

Author:  Abi [ Sat Jun 20, 2009 5:58 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I've just read all of this. I feel so sorry for Len. it would be different if she was happy at university, but obviously she's not. Love Con's romance, though! Thanks Ariel, this is as enjoyable as all your drabbles.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Jun 21, 2009 7:14 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

This is highly improbable, I know, but I can't seem to write more than sheer nonsense at the moment.

- X -

Late one evening, Con was just capping her fountain pen and putting down her sheets of paper for the night when a barely audible tap at her door alerted her to someone wanting her attention. At first she thought it might be one of the children – she was a favourite to come to for Felix and Phil, as well as Marie-Claire, when they had a nightmare and needed a soothing story to get back to sleep. Then a fair, weary, familiar face looked around the door and smiled at her. She smiled back at her father, although she was wondering desperately what he might want her for.

“Are you decent?” he whispered. Con nodded and stood up to prove her statement. “Good. Albert’s downstairs – he said that he’s had some news from his brother, and he needed to see you. We have a couple of difficult cases at the San, though, so he can’t really get time off. I said that you probably wouldn’t mind seeing him if you were still awake.”

“Five minutes,” Con murmured back, trying not to wake up the other children. She was the only member of the family who routinely sat up this late, time being irrelevant in the worlds she was usually in, but such hours required sustenance, and Con had learnt stealth in her midnight wanderings to the kitchen to get a glass of milk and some of Anna’s delicious lemon biscuits. Jack nodded and withdrew.

The first thing Con did was plunge for her hairbrush. Her characters had been annoying her all evening, and consequently she had been running her fingers through her hair until it looked a horrible mess. Next was to straighten her clothes, look down with a barely suppressed scream of horror, and wriggle out of her top, which was stained with ink. She dug out another one, an old one of Margot’s that tended to cling to her, but it was the best she could do without making her drawers even worse. At least it vaguely matched her skirt. Finally, she stopped off at a bathroom along the corridor and scrubbed at her hands desperately, close to cursing under her breath as she hoped more than anything that Albert wouldn’t get bored and leave waiting for her.

Muffled voices guided her to the still dark hallway, where Jack and Albert were stood in a patch of moonlight murmuring something in a low voice. As soon as she entered, Con saw Albert watching her and smiled despite herself; it had been two weeks since the afternoon in his house, and she had become firmly convinced that he wouldn’t want to see her again. She stayed back until the two men finished their conversation, granting them privacy, but joined them with a greeting as soon as she could.

“Sorry to be so inhospitable,” Jack almost whispered once Con had said ‘hello’. “I daren’t ask you in, in case Joey or one of the kids wakes up, goodness knows it’s difficult enough getting up the obstacle course of creaking stairs. You don’t mind taking a turn or two around the garden?”

Albert, who would secretly have gone anywhere Con was, affirmed that he didn’t mind in the slightest, completely understood, and laughed about the curse of being a doctor. Sure that his guest had been treated with such hospitality as one could reasonably expect at this hour of the night, Jack turned his attention to his daughter, who had plainly forgotten how cold the night air could be and was shivering because of it. He was on the verge of shrugging off his jacket for her when Albert held out his own. Something cold pierced Jack’s heart as he realised that it was no longer his place to look after Con; she had grown away from him, now, she was a young woman. He turned away with a stifled yawn, and bid them goodnight.

Left alone, Con and Albert smiled at each other, embarrassed, until Albert took the initiative and held out his arm so that they could walk. Ensuring that the front door was shut securely but not locked behind her, Con held on to him gladly as they traipsed off the path and through the already dewy grass. It was the first time Con could remember ever hearing such silence – apart from the odd creaking of a tree in the faint breeze, nothing stirred. She shivered again, but this time it was nothing to do with the cold – Albert noticed, and at once apologised profusely.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dragged you out so late at night, but I had to see you and there’s no chance of me having a day off at the moment. I’d offered to drive Jigger home anyway, his car ran out of petrol earlier, so as he knew you stayed up late he said he’d see if you were still awake. We can leave this until a more sociable time if you prefer?”

“I don’t mind,” replied Con truthfully. Her fingers twitched slightly against Albert’s arm; she could hear his breath, as ragged as her own, and the crunch of grass as they stepped on it. The night had never seemed so magical to her as it did then.

“I’ve had a letter from my brother,” he explained shortly afterwards. He turned to look at her, breath spiraling into the heavens above them. “I sent him your writing, like I said I would, and his reply came this morning. He’s really interested in you; he asked if you could write something specific, just a short story no more than say twenty-thousand words, so that he could see how your writing style might fit into his market. But he’s sure that you’ve got real talent, and even if he can’t do anything for you he’s promised to pass your writing on to someone who could.”

“I –“ stumbled Con, not sure what to say. It didn’t help that Albert’s gaze was level with her own, and the bright light of the moon was making the shadows jump across his face until he was more attractive than ever. Her breath was taken away, even as her mind tried to find some way of expressing her thanks adequately. Eternity stretched around them, winding through the distant peaks and blanketing reality and impossibilities tightly.

Softly, she leaned up, and pressed her lips against his own. She had to stretch slightly, although they were of an almost equal height; Albert, just as gently, wrapped his arms around her back and held her close, his chest rising and falling against her own. She could taste stale coffee and mints, scents which bizarrely reminded her of when she was younger, and Jack, on coming home from work, would sweep all three of them into his arms and kiss them all. It was a moment that she never wanted to end.

Laughter came when they did break apart; subdued, happy laughter that Con couldn’t help. She tossed her head back to keep her hair off of her face and then, breathless, pressed herself against him again, head spinning. Happiness, sheer joy at the news he had brought and getting to kiss him finally, overtook her, and any uncertainty she might have felt melted as he brushed a thumb along her cheek, his arms cold against the bare skin exposed when she leaned up, but breath warm on her face.

Unseen, in an upstairs window, Joey watched on, face unreadable.

Author:  PaulineS [ Sun Jun 21, 2009 7:25 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel. Good to see Con and Albert;s relationship develop.

Author:  Joanne [ Sun Jun 21, 2009 7:56 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I sense trouble from Joey, what is her problem?

Thanks for this.

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Jun 21, 2009 10:51 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Joey's behaviour is very odd. She doesn't seem to have any problem with Len and Reg so presumably it isn't that she thinks Con's too young to have a serious boyfriend, and seeing as Albert is a doctor you'd think she'd approve of him :lol:, so does she know something about him that Jack and Con don't?

Author:  jmc [ Mon Jun 22, 2009 8:49 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Also worrying about what Jo may do.
Thanks

Author:  JS [ Mon Jun 22, 2009 9:29 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Still not entirely trusting Albert - but then surely Jack wouldn't be colluding.
Looking forward to more.

Author:  Nightwing [ Mon Jun 22, 2009 9:39 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Jo was always good at reading people... maybe she senses something that the others don't? If someone's going to get their heart broken I hope it's Albert and not Con!

Author:  JellySheep [ Mon Jun 22, 2009 9:43 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I've just caught up with lots of this, and would like to add to the voices saying that we would love it to continue - it's really good and there are quite a few intriguing aspects about which it would be good to know more (Len/Reg, why Jo doesn't seem happy about Albert...). Don't put yourself down. Looking forward in hope.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jun 22, 2009 12:04 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Just to clarify this slightly, I'm not posting everything Con wrote (for Con did write this, you know) but just those parts of it relevant to the drabble and which would tell the story. I hope that this bit makes more sense with that!

Thankyou for your comments, they make me both smile and feel an evil anticipation at what is coming :devil:

- X -

It had been nearly a fortnight since they had last been able to meet, but at last Annabella escaped from the daily pressures of being the perfect wife to Himerus’ flat. She had exactly two hours before she would have to leave to collect the children from school – the nanny had been ill the past week, which was a large factor in not being able to get away – but those two hours she intended to enjoy as much as possible.

She was still struggling to understand the concept of enjoying herself – pleasure was a rare thing in her life, and never before had it been brought to her by someone else. Her parents had raised her on much the same lines as she raised her own children; her purpose in life was to marry well and produce an heir, they needn’t waste emotion on her. Even standing at the alter she felt nothing for Jonathon, and married life had done nothing to change that. Love was simply an artistic licence, something invented by writers and painters to give them a career.

Of course, her views on that hadn’t changed. Himerus might pleasure her in a way that Jonathon never could have managed in his brief fumbles which might result in another son, but that didn’t mean that she loved him. It was a purely animalistic relationship. So why, when she curled up in his arms afterwards, why did she always feel so contented, so safe? Why did she keep imagining her life without him, and being unable to think of a way to continue? Why, when she fell asleep at night, was he the one she dreamt of? These were all questions Annabella refused to answer when they did happen to drift across her conscious at unguarded moments.

Now, she could barely help thinking of it. Himerus had just fetched his sketchbook again, to show her something, like an eager dog bringing a stick to its mistress. She took it off him with hands that she scorned to say shook; whatever it was, the expression on his face told her it was important. As he had already flipped it to the right page, she settled it on her lap, expecting to see anything but what she did. Looking up at her from the page was herself again, cuddled into the thin blanket on his sofa, eyes wide and childlike. A scrawled title in the corner revealed it to be ‘Bella; innocence unspoilt’.

“This is – it’s beautiful,” she murmured, shocked. Himerus, kneeling before her, shifted happily and took her hands in his own. They were numb with cold; the apartment was unheated and winter was setting in now. Already Annabella had begun to worry about him in such squalor.

“It had to be with the subject,” he returned softly, nestling his head into her legs. The two remained frozen, a picture in themselves, until suddenly Annabella glanced up at the clock and jumped. She had only fifteen minutes to get dressed and get back to her car. She began to search for her stockings, watched by an amused Himerus.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back,” she explained as she tugged her top on. “I’ll come again as soon as I can.”

“You could always stay,” he tempted, following her every move. “Nobody would ever know where to find you, we could just be together.”

The guilty thoughts she had been having recently came flooding back on Annabella at this, so that she didn’t deign to reply. Instead she shook her hair loose, ran her fingers through it hurriedly, and dug her lipstick out of her handbag to make sure she looked respectable. What made it worse was that she wanted nothing more than to fling herself into his arms, and promise to stay with him forevermore. Going home, to listen to Jonathon rambling on about his boring day at work or the children stumbling over some anecdote her life would have been just as complete without, when she could have been here, just sat in silence as she watched Himerus paint – as she did on many occasions – was decidedly not something that she wanted to do.

“Here,” he murmured just as she was about to pull open the door and leave. “Take this.”

He pressed the picture into her hand, a tiny moment captured on the page. For a second she hesitated, but then her fingers closed over his own and she smiled, careful to make sure it wouldn’t be bent in her bag. The fine pencil lines smudged slightly, but the light sketching of the background masked this, so that it only added to the artistic appeal. It was as if an unspoken understanding had been reached between them – a rare thing in the life of a woman married to someone who believed that nothing was real unless it was in a contract – and Himerus pulled her close for one final hug.

As she was driving home, Annabella let herself indulge in the dream Himerus had sold to her, even if it did remain just a dream.

Author:  Elle [ Mon Jun 22, 2009 1:12 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

ChubbyMonkey wrote:
More than anything else, though, it told him that it might be about time to have that small talk with Albert about being a gentleman.



Eh? Is Jack implying Albert is not a gentleman? Or is it going to be the type of talk that goes along the lines of 'Hurt my daughter and I am going to break both your legs...' Or even, 'Kiss my daughter and I am going to break both your legs...'

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jun 22, 2009 5:25 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Goodness, Elle, I hope it isn't the last option or Albert will be in trouble! I was imagining something along the lines of 'As you know, I am both your boss and a well respected member of the community who could probably get away with pre-meditated acts of violence but wouldn't much care if he didn't. Bearing this in mind, you may wish to think deeply about your behaviour with regards to my daughter.'

This may be my last update for a few days, as I am now working for the next week (weekend included :banghead:) but I will try and get a couple more done if I can find the time.

- X -

The next day, Joey organised a picnic for the children before they got up – in Con’s case very late. She missed breakfast, and when she did emerge it was with tired, heavy eyes. Joey tried mentioning it to her husband, but unaware that she knew of Albert’s late night visit he told her that Con had merely been up writing later than usual she wasn't to worry unless Con mentioned feeling ill. Unsatisfied, Joey decided that she had to find another reason to tackle Con – for speak to her daughter she was going to.

She excused Con as she didn’t seem to feel well, but sent the rest off with Len and Margot in charge. She knew that she could rely on Anna to stay out of the way for the morning, and so while Con sat down to a boiled egg and toast, she snuck upstairs, gathering some of Con’s washing en route. Then, with the perfect excuse under her arm, she entered – apparently her only intention being to put the washing away. Unfortunately, just as she had hoped would be the case, Con, weary at having been sat up until four, writing and then trying to sort out her plan which had become terribly muddled at some point, had simply left her sheets scattered across the table. Well, Joey would only be doing her job as a mother if she browsed one or two. Maybe she could even give Con some pointers.

Despite her years and her numerous children, plus extended family, with Joey to think was still to act, and accordingly she picked up some of the sheets of close writing. Con dated as she went along to keep track of order, and these were the most recent, from the night before. Her eyebrows shot into her fringe as she began to realise some of the things Con must have picked up at university – she had left talks of that nature entirely up to Jack, who had called the triplets into his office one evening and dealt with the unsavoury subject in a brisk and efficient manner that he would have used had they been medical students under his tuition. Con had evidently taken it upon herself to find more reading material and educate herself further.

It was the page after that which interested Joey especially. Forgetting that her daughter was likely to descend upon the room at any moment, she sat down as she became more absorbed. Perhaps she was reading more into the words than they meant, but to Joey it seemed as if Con hadn’t been writing about just her characters when she wrote this particular extract.

The idea refused to leave Annabella’s mind, once she began to think about it. All evening, watching the children listlessly doing their homework at the table, doing her best to pretend that of course she wanted to hear every small detail of Jonathon’s latest deal, she had imagined what she and Himerus could have been doing just then. He was hopelessly romantic, and she could easily imagine him spending the last of his money buying a box of chocolates so that they could curl up and weave each other beautiful stories about their future life together.

All the next day she planned how she could leave, what she would tell people – until she came to the realisation that she wouldn’t need to tell anybody anything. Her parents, her friends, none of them would understand why someone with such a decent husband could possibly want to leave him for somebody who could offer her nothing but emotions. None of them had seen Himerus at his most vulnerable, as he fell asleep in her arms, looking more and more like a little boy, none of them had heard the solemnity in his voice as he promised that he would love her forever.

He was a penniless artist with little chance of real success at any point in his life. But he had changed Annabella in a way that she couldn’t forget; his failure didn’t matter as much to her anymore as the fact that he loved her for her, and not because she could look pretty and keep a house. She didn’t know if she would be able to bear the confines of his tiny studio, and the inhibitions on her usually quite free spending. She was older than him, too, by many years, enough that people would look down on her. They didn’t understand that age was meaningless when love was involved.

Strangely, she found, she seemed to care far more about what her friends would think than she did Jonathon and the children. Vaguely, at the back of her mind, she realised that should she leave, should she improbably work up the courage to chase her heart and not her rational thought, they would both end up at boarding school, despite John having celebrated his seventh birthday only last month. She was no fool, she knew that Jonathon cared as little for the children as she did, perhaps even less for there was a small part of her that wondered if she would be upset, should she be parted from them.

Himerus ruled her life now, though. Every memory and thought of him kept her going, she lived to be able to see him again. Surely what other people thought of them meant nothing compared to their feelings for each other, surely she shouldn’t care about reason and logic when she could spend the rest of her life either in happiness or abject misery.


Joey had got this far in her reading when Con burst into the room, prepared to take up her pen again. She stopped short when she saw her mother sat amidst the mess of papers, some typewritten others scribbled out, evidently absorbed. For a second her heart stopped, but then she tried to remind herself that Joey couldn’t know about her feelings for Albert, and even if she did there should be no reason for her to read such things into the apparently harmless efforts of a first time novelist.

“I think that we need to have a talk,” said Joey icily.

Author:  PaulineS [ Mon Jun 22, 2009 8:35 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the updates.

Author:  Abi [ Mon Jun 22, 2009 9:30 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Oh dear... I see fireworks in the offing :? . Hope the hard working goes ok :) .

Author:  Alison H [ Tue Jun 23, 2009 5:49 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

What is Joey playing at?

Author:  JS [ Tue Jun 23, 2009 7:21 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That's a bit of a cliffhanger if you're not planning to post for a few days. Most unkind, I call it.

Author:  hac61 [ Tue Jun 23, 2009 2:05 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Why is it that some parents have no respect for their children?

I'm glad in our house it was the same rules for my Mum as it was for us.


hac

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Jun 23, 2009 7:26 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Sorry, it's a really short, awful update, I'm just exhausted from work - I won't be called unkind, though! :lol:

- X -

“You had no right to read my writing without permission!” burst out Con, exasperated, but her indignation had no effect on her mother, who merely raised an eyebrow quizzically. Usually there was quite an informal relationship between the two, and Con would never have dreamed that Joey could have betrayed her trust in this manner. It seemed that there wasn’t even going to be a justification for her actions, however.

“It’s a good job I did! Don’t think that I’m stupid – this is about you, you and your doctor friend.”

“I knew you’d be like this!” stormed Con, suppressed tiredness only adding to her anger. She had come back upstairs to try and lie down for another hour or two; her temples ached and every word split through the knot of pain at the front of her mind. “I saw you when he helped me back because I’d dished my ankle. Even then, without getting to know him properly, you took against us.”

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, for her hands were shaking with the force of her emotions. She knew that she shouldn’t have been stupid enough to leave her writing lying around in that manner, but she had thought that if she treated everyone else with a respectful privacy they would do the same. From now on she would be more careful, though; her project, even if she had decided that it was destined to be sent to Albert’s brother once it was finished, was deeply personal to her. Emphatically she did not want anyone, least of all Joey, to read it – especially when they could read so much into it.

“There is no ‘us’,” pointed out Joey gently, and suddenly Con blushed furiously. “Unless you count a kiss at a very inappropriate time of night to be sneaking out, nothing has happened yet – or at least that I’m aware of. Do correct me if I’m wrong and you’ve been lying to me about something else.”

There was something in her tone that told Con of deeper feelings than she was showing. It wasn’t angry, even in the slightest, nor hurt. All that Con could describe it as was disappointed; let down that any of her children felt the need to be dishonest with her. Con wanted to speak to her so badly, wanted to let her share these feelings she was having. She wanted to laugh with her mother about how Joey had once felt the same, had once wanted to take whatever risks she needed to, just to be with Jack again. Instead she’d seen Joey’s antipathy towards the man she loved so much, and she’d known that it must be secret or this would happen, and it would all be ruined.

“It isn’t lying,” protested her daughter, stumbling. “Or, at least, well, it just isn’t telling you everything. And dad knew, but he cares about me so he doesn’t mind.”

There was a long silence after her last statement, until she couldn’t bear to look at Joey anymore and instead turned to the window. Looking out over the garden she felt tears come to her eyes; just a few hours ago she had danced across that space, her arm in Albert’s, and she had felt such pure happiness. It seemed, under the moonlight, that all of her dreams were coming true at last; now she had woken up to the complete opposite of everything she had imagined the night before.

“I care a lot,” said Joey eventually, her own voice tight with emotion. “Why do you think I’m so against this? I’ve encouraged one of my little girls already because I thought that I was doing the right thing; you know better than anyone how unhappy Len is now. What sort of mother would I be if I let you do that as well?”

Con’s only response was to lean her hot head against the cool glass of the window, eyes shut. Of all the reasons that Joey could have objected – Albert was older than her, they lived in different countries to all intents and purposes, they’d barely spent any time together so far – she still had to make this all about Len again. It wasn’t a perfect situation, of course it wasn’t, and Con knew all of the objections against her acting on her feelings, but she couldn’t believe that Joey was going to use this one to try and stop her.

“I’m not Len,” she whispered. “And Albert isn’t Reg. He won’t try and force me to do what he wants when I’m not ready. He’ll give me space and let me make my own decisions, and respect me. I know that Reg only does what he does because he loves Len so much, and I know he tries only he’s so impatient that he can’t see he’s rushing her, but Albert is completely different.”

“He’ll hurt you!”

”He loves me too.”

“You aren’t going to see sense, are you?” murmured Joey in return. There was an air of melancholy sadness, now, where moments before the room had been filled with electric tension. Con looked almost defeated, as if she could see that it would be pointless to try and argue against her mother further.

“I’ll talk to dad,” she offered in the end, a sort of compromise. “He knows Albert better than any of us, if he knows something about Albert that would stop him from loving me, from being good to me, he’ll tell me. But he knows how I feel, and he isn’t trying to stop us.”

There was a note of finality in her voice that Joey knew better to try and argue against. When she wanted, Con could be by far the most stubborn and forceful of all her children. She lay the sheets of writing back on the table, but with a tiny look at them she seemed to find the strength to add,

“If anything, your writing should show you that you’re going to get hurt.”

“The only person trying to make me unhappy is you,” muttered Con resentfully, but her anger had gone now and she could see that Joey had only been trying to look after her. She was just so busy looking after everybody else that somewhere along the way she had lost sight of who her daughter was. Later, Con knew she would regret her caustic words, and wish desperately to take them back, but even if she knew then she must apologise she didn’t. Instead she waited until Joey had left the room then lay down on her bed and buried her face in the pillow with a groan of tiredness. Her mind was firmly resolved on one point, however. Nothing would take Albert from her.

Author:  Elle [ Tue Jun 23, 2009 8:22 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

ChubbyMonkey wrote:
Goodness, Elle, I hope it isn't the last option or Albert will be in trouble! I was imagining something along the lines of 'As you know, I am both your boss and a well respected member of the community who could probably get away with pre-meditated acts of violence but wouldn't much care if he didn't. Bearing this in mind, you may wish to think deeply about your behaviour with regards to my daughter.'



Which basically translates as "Hurt my daughter and I break both your legs," surely? :D :D :D

Thanks for the updates.

Author:  Abi [ Tue Jun 23, 2009 9:35 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Well, it could have been worse, I suppose, but poor Con :? .

Thanks Ariel!

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Wed Jun 24, 2009 2:36 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I know Joey meant well but she should have respected Con's privacy. However, am wondering if Albert is having an affair with someone and it's either Joey or someone she knows and that Jack has no idea about it all

Author:  JS [ Thu Jun 25, 2009 8:35 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Quote:
I won't be called unkind, though!



Sorry :oops:

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Jun 25, 2009 5:40 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

No, it's fine JS! I just didn't want to disappoint...

I shall take this opportunity to say that at the moment I am planning on writing my next update on Saturday, but the next fortnight or so is just FULL to the brim, so I'm sorry if I'm being terribly slow.

Author:  jmc [ Fri Jun 26, 2009 7:46 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

ChubbyMonkey wrote:
I'm sorry if I'm being terribly slow.


I wouldn't exactly call your writing slow. Thanks for all the updates.

Author:  Luisa [ Fri Jun 26, 2009 11:07 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Just caught up with this - will look forward to the next instalment

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Jun 28, 2009 5:24 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I am so sorry for not updating last night. I got in from work to be told that I had literally ten minutes before company descended upon us. I am also sorry that this is such a short update - I eventually have a day off tomorrow, so you will get a much longer one then, I promise!

- X -

To keep to her end of the compromise, once Jack got home that night, Con closeted him in the office for a while. She had to wait for the whole of dinner, during which she was fidgety and played with her food enough to bring a stinging rebuke from Joey on her head, but after that he agreed to see her. He looked worn down, more so than usual despite gradually cutting down his hours and instead taking his paperwork home far more, and Con realised with a pang that her parents were getting older. In a few years now Jack would be thinking about retiring, even though some of his children would still be in school.

“Mum’s found out about Albert,” she introduced bluntly, once Anna had brought in the tea tray and retreated with a curtsey. Jack rubbed one hand over his eyes and poured himself a strong tea, reaching behind him to add a slug of whiskey. One of his patients had slipped away from them today, he’d wanted a quiet night in, and he’d been almost tempted to put Con off. But the atmosphere at the dinner table had convinced him both women needed this to be sorted that evening, and he could tell he wouldn’t get any peace until it was done. “She doesn’t approve.”

Jack’s heart sank. He had been afraid of this reaction, which was why he had carefully not found the time yet to tell his wife of his suspicions – and, he reassured himself hastily, they were only suspicions – but it appeared that he hadn’t been as cunning as he thought. The difficulty was that he couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier than for Con and Albert to marry; for years now he had said that his friend deserved to find happiness, he just never imagined it would be with one of his daughters. Evidently that wasn’t going to persuade Joey, however.

“What did she say?” he asked wearily, sitting back in his chair and sipping his drink. Children had always been something of a mystery to him, and after a while he thought that he was so far behind Joey in terms of learning, down to both the large nursery she had spent her teenage years with and the war years when she had time to care for their children and he didn’t, that he may as well give up. This was definitely a new situation to him, but it was his responsibility to make the right decisions, to look after his family.

“She thinks that I’ll be unhappy like Len is,” murmured Con, eyes downcast. Instinctively she had avoided mentioning her sister around Jack and Joey, but this was forcing her to confront the problem head on. “I know that Albert is slightly too old really, and I know that we will have to live apart while I do my degree, but I love him dad, really love him, and none of that matters to me.”

Growing up was as much about experience as age, Jack knew that before, but somehow he had never thought it would apply to his children. As old as they got, and as wise, he had never thought that they would grow away from him. Even Len and Reg hadn’t made him realise quite as much as this that his daughters weren’t the little girls he had once come home to any more. But there was something in Con’s voice, the look in her eye, which made him take a sharp intake of breath. Her feelings, they were as vivid to him now as if he had only fallen in love with Joey yesterday.

“I’ll talk to her,” he promised, inwardly knowing that it would be no good. Once Joey had made up her mind about something wild horses wouldn’t change her opinion. “But you need to realise that I can’t fix everything for you anymore, you’re an adult and you have to take adult responsibilities as well as rewards. Very soon, you might have to make the decision about whether you will be happier with Albert, but without our blessing, or whether you wish to respect our wishes and not act on your feelings.”

Con sat silent for seconds that dragged themselves into hours. The stillness was broken only by Jack standing up and pulling her into a hug, meaningful but inadequate. If he could have taken the heartache in front of her on himself, he would have done instantly, but he was having to grow up as much as she was – he was having to admit to himself that he couldn’t fix everything anymore. A hug and a rare bedtime story wasn’t going to cheer Con up over whatever trifle (usually Margot) had upset her.

“I say ‘our wishes’,” he murmured in the end, deciding to trust Con as the adult she clearly was, “and I have to support Joey if she thinks that you’re making a mistake, but whatever you decide we will both always love you, and be proud of you, and you mustn’t ever tell Joey I said this, but – well, I think you and Albert would be very happy together, and it would make me very happy if you were. I think you’re strong enough to make your own decisions, if we like it or not, but Joey isn’t, really, she needs me in a way that you don’t. You understand, don’t you?”

“I love you, dad,” Con whispered in reply, snuggling back against him.

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Jun 28, 2009 5:37 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Joey really needs to learn that Con's old enough to make her decisions, even if they do turn out to be the wrong ones. Jack is lovely in this.

Author:  jmc [ Mon Jun 29, 2009 3:44 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Jack is so lovely in this. And Jo needs to learn to mind her own business. Just becasue Len is unhappy it does not automatically mean that Con will be too.

Thanks

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jun 29, 2009 10:51 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for the lovely comments :)

- X -

Nighttimes were not being kind to Con at the moment. As soon as darkness descended across the jagged peaks she found herself less and less sleepy, until, sometimes, she was unable to even stay in bed. She tossed and turned incessantly, eyes shut but mind far from peaceful, until she became hot and bothered and ended up throwing off all of the coverings. Naturally, this meant that as soon as she did fall asleep she would wake up again, freezing, and spend another half an hour tormented by her imagination.

Shadows ringed her eyes constantly, and even in company she could barely stifle her yawns, but that didn’t help her at night. Nocturnal habits decidedly did not suit her. Sometimes she tried to start off by imagining her characters, something usually guaranteed to get her asleep – just in time for her to forget all of the wonderful things that she’d planned to write the next morning – but all too soon she was imagining what she would do, then Albert. He haunted her all night long, slipping as easily in and out of her dreams as he did her thoughts. It seemed as if there was nowhere she could escape him. Tonight was even worse than usual; tonight, after ten minutes, she didn’t even try and sleep.

She sat up, so that she could look out of the window, eyes unfocused. She had grown up sharing a bedroom with her sisters, but because they were older they had requested that they be allowed their own rooms, which was a blessing now. Her nightly habits would have been sure to get back to Jack and Joey if she had to share with Len and Margot, and at the moment even if they had noticed something they had evidently decided that they didn’t need to act on it, for which Con was eternally grateful. It seemed nearly impossible, to her, to try and explain to them just why she couldn’t sleep. It would only give them more reason to stop her seeing Albert.

Her mind wondered idly when she would next see him. She could hardly believe that it was this time last night she was in the garden with him, that it had only been twenty-four hours since she had discovered he really could make all of her dreams come true. There should have been a lifetime between them, but in reality she had known him for no time at all. Anything could happen at any moment; he could meet someone he preferred, he could think about it and decide that he didn’t love her at all, he could change his mind and think that it was all too much trouble with her parents feeling as they did – Joey, at any rate.

All she did know was that she wouldn’t stop being in love with him. Whatever happened, whatever people thought of her, she loved him, passionately, and she always would. The question she had to face was the one that Jack had so accurately outlined – did she want to be with him no matter what, whether she had Joey’s blessing or otherwise? Could she bear to go against everything she had ever been taught? And if they made her, would either person truly love her?

A shadow swooped across the window, and Con smiled as she thought of the two barn owls – mates – that she had regularly seen during the night. She loved nature, and there was such a different variety here from England. All year she had been looking forwards to coming back to the mountains, the fresh air like champagne and the delicate, pretty flowers growing in abundance. She had hoped, more than anything, to have a quiet summer in which she would be able to complete a piece of writing in peace. She hadn’t even been able to do that; she had forgiven her mother for reading her work once she had calmed down, after all she had stolen manuscripts often enough as a child and even if she was wrong, Joey had only done what she had for the best, but something of the magic had gone out of it now. She thought she was doing so well, was so happy with what she had written, but with Joey’s criticisms had come doubt, flooding into her mind.

What she wanted, more than anything else, was to feel Albert’s arms around her, and to know that he would support her through any problem. She didn’t know that he would, though, and she had no way of contacting him. All she could do was wait for him and hope that he was coming back to her again soon. She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t, though; after all, she had yet to understand just why he did love her like he said, she was hardly the nicest person in the world, or the most down to earth. What man would want to share his wife with a dozen different people all wanting to snatch her attention for a new story at any given time?

Her musings were, fortunately, cut short by Felicity sliding around the door, loose hair floating around her shoulders and wide blue eyes giving her an uncanny resemblance to a ghost. Her white nightdress billowed out as she tiptoed forwards and slid under the blankets. Her feet were icy cold and she promptly rested them on Con’s rather warm legs, making her sister glare at her, for she had made her feelings about that particular habit very clear on many occasions. Felicity beamed up sweetly, too innocent for Con to stay annoyed.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she murmured, which she knew would carry far less than a whisper.

“One story,” sighed Con, resigning herself to her fate and sliding back into the bed so that she was lying with her head on the pillow next to her sisters’. Their hair mingled, an odd contrast, their bodies so close they could almost have been one person.

“Can I stay here tonight?” asked Felicity eagerly. “My bed’s cold and Phil keeps snoring.”

“Fine,” said Con, in mock annoyance. Secretly she was pleased of the company; Felicity’s steady breathing had calmed her down a lot, and she could feel sleep gradually creeping around her. “You have to promise not to fall out of bed in the middle of the night or something equally shocking, though; we’d never be forgiven if we woke everybody up that way.”

“Promise.”

“Good.” Con waited until Felicity had stopped wriggling, then lifted her voice enough to tell her story clearly, without waking anybody else, for Len was in the room next to hers and she always was a light sleeper. “Comfortable? Once upon a time there was a princess, and she would sit in her lonely tower and look at all the handsome princes who came to claim her hand. Then, one day, she saw ride into the courtyard one prince in particular; he was called Alfred, and she fell in love with him instantly. He glanced up and saw the princess, and when he saw how beautiful she was, he fell in love with her too. However, he had to first convince the King and Queen that he deserved to marry their daughter.

“Both the prince and the princess pleaded to be allowed to marry each other, and the King wanted to let them, but the Queen didn’t like the prince and she said that the princess mustn’t love him. The princess had always thought that her parents loved her, but when the Queen wouldn’t let her be happy she didn’t know if they did anymore.”

Con stopped and looked down at the tiny, sleeping face below her. Her stories always managed to get the younger children off to sleep quicker even than one of Matey’s patent doses. Felicity’s eyes fluttered slightly as the room fell silent around her, but she didn’t awake, for which Con was grateful. She didn’t want to go any further into her tale; she still didn’t know if it would have had a happy ending or not.

Author:  JS [ Mon Jun 29, 2009 12:32 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Lovely last sentence - good to see you're using your day off productively :)

Author:  Alison H [ Mon Jun 29, 2009 12:32 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I hope Con's not getting ahead of herself: Albert hasn't said that much to her yet.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jun 29, 2009 4:58 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Oh, very productively indeed: two drabble updates and a re-read of 'New Mistress'. What better use of it could one make?

- X -

The next morning there was a frosty atmosphere, though Jack had gone to work long before Con woke up and Joey carefully avoided the subject, so there was to be no chance of finding out if the former had managed his talk or not. Felicity had got up without waking her sister, and Con had nearly slept the clock around; the rest of the children were out, busy at their various pursuits by the time she had finished breakfast. Even Anna hadn’t scolded at the added trouble of producing one meal later than the rest, so she guessed that either Jack or Joey had noticed and warned everyone to be quiet.

She ate her scrambled eggs at a leisurely pace, having no particular plans for the day but to get on with her writing. She had been seized with a desire to stop editing perforce and instead write everything that she had left to, then go back once it was finished. It wasn’t her usual style, for she liked to be sure that events were as set as they could possibly be before she carried on. Something, brought on by Joey’s words of the day before, had convinced her that she wasn’t ready to edit yet, though.

The problem was that she didn’t quite know where she wanted to take her story. She had the next few events planned out, and a hazy idea about some of the things that she needed to happen after that, but how to solve the problems she had presented so far she really didn’t know, and inspiration was not forthcoming. She pondered on it as she ate, but her imagination presented her with nothing and she was left to conclude that she would simply have to sit down, put pen to paper and see what happened.

Before she could escape back to the isolation of her room, however, she was called for by Len, who apparently needed her urgently. She tracked the voice to the Salon, and indeed found Len there when she stuck her head around the door. Joey was also present, but when Con stepped in she stood up and went over to talk to Anna, rather pointedly, as the latter dusted. Con’s dark eyes followed her so far, then she turned to look at her triplets, who were both beckoning her over to the sofa that they had requisitioned. As she sat between them, she looked closely, knowing them well enough to accurately read the mischievous glint in both sets of eyes. Apprehensively, she waited to hear what they were planning.

“As you haven’t been sleeping well recently – don’t argue, I hear you tossing and turning,” introduced Len before Con could say anything, “we’ve decided that we’re going to treat you today. We haven’t seen much of each other alone since the holidays started, and we’ve always hung together; we vowed that university wasn’t going to stop that and we meant it. So, we’ve pressed Anna into making us up a small lunch to take and we’re going for a walk today, just the three of us.”

“I can’t, really,” said Con reluctantly. Despite her problems, she had been looking forwards to immersing herself in her writing. “We could do something tomorrow, maybe, though.”

“I promised mum that I’d go to Kaffe and Kuchen at Auntie Biddy’s with her,” said Margot. “And Len is out with Reg. Sorry, but today is our day, your characters can have you back tomorrow. No arguments!”

Duly squashed, Con subsided, though she looked far from happy at the decision. Behind her, Len made a signal to Margot, who nodded, her curls bouncing around her face. The silent agreement reached, the eldest of the Maynard children by half an hour glanced at their mother and then stood up smoothly and walked over, engaging Joey in conversation and effectually stealing her concentration for the few moments that were needed.

“We overheard mum and dad talking last night,” said Margot in a rapid undertone, eyes darting between her audience and Len, making sure they were still unobserved. “It’s made us rather curious to know more about your new man, only we didn’t think mum would let us go if we told her, so we’ve said that we don’t know which way we’ll go, only we might happen to wander past his house. You know that we can’t let just anyone steal away our sister.”

Blushing furiously, Con shook her head, but it was too late; Joey was coming over, and she was forced to hold back the diatribe that she wished to unleash on her sisters. Secretly, though, her heart leaped at the thought of possibly, maybe seeing him again – if he wasn’t working, and happened to see them going past, after all they could hardly just go and knock – and she was forced to admit to herself that their intended destination wasn’t necessarily a bad plan.

Once all three had promised to keep their hats on and not run any risks of sunstroke or other injuries – here Joey glanced meaningfully at Margot, who despite her good intentions still couldn’t be entirely trusted not to listen to her Devil – they were given free permission to go, on the condition that they were back in time for Abendessen. Beaming, two of the three raced off to get ready; Con was slower, but Joey put this down to her usual mooning and didn’t ask any questions.

In her room, the second of the triplets chose her clothes carefully, just in case they did happen to see Albert, as slim as the chances were. Try as she might, she couldn’t push him out of her head, and she had to confess ruefully that even the prospect of a picnic alone with the two most important people in the world to her couldn’t excite her as much as the thought of seeing him again. Clandestine meetings sounded so romantic as well. Her only worry was just what Len and Margot would say to him – and what he would say to them. She wanted so badly for him to be liked and accepted, and knowing that they did would help a great deal with the hurt that Joey didn’t.

Eventually she had to confess that she couldn’t think of another excuse for putting off answering the impatient calls from the hallway to hurry up and come downstairs, and with a last look backwards at the neat piles of paper beckoning alluringly to her, she quit her room. Len and Margot were waiting for her, and handed her the lunchbox Anna had so carefully prepared for all three, with admonitions about the length of time she had taken. She shrugged them off, checked her bag one last time, then looked around.

“Let’s go,” she smiled, attempting to appear more confident than she felt.

Author:  JB [ Mon Jun 29, 2009 5:40 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Joey needs a good slap. Perhaps something heavy could accidentally fall on her as Anna dusts?

:evil: :evil: :evil:

Love the pincer movement by Len and Margot.

Author:  Alison H [ Mon Jun 29, 2009 10:14 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Hope it goes well.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Thu Jul 02, 2009 3:33 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Len and Margot are wonderful here. Hope they can all help each other while there out. And it'll give Con a needed break from Joey. Jack is lovely here and Joey needs to let Con make her own choices and therefore own mistakes

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Jul 02, 2009 10:20 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Sorry once again for the delay in updates, real life keeps getting in the way at the moment :evil:

- X -

The sun beat down mercilessly, small spirals of white cloud drifting now and then across the sky. This high up it was a shade of blue that was rare to see in England, and for the first few steps Con kept her eyes turned firmly upwards. Margot sniffed, calling a rebuke on her head from Len about impersonating a dog, and all three laughed at the old saying. One and all they missed school, though as Margot had so succinctly put it once, it was good to grow up and be yourself. As they passed the building where they had spent much of the last few years of their lives, all three turned with one accord and looked fondly at the old building. In some ways it was more of a home than home was.

“I miss having nothing more than unruly juniors to deal with,” sighed Len softly. They stepped off of the path to let some walkers pass, but once they were striding along again discussion turned back to Len’s previous comment. Predictably, Con was of the opinion that more time to do her writing certainly outweighed the parts of university life she wasn’t so keen on, and Margot tended to agree, though for her it was the lack of responsibility and the freedom she could barely remember which appealed so much. The eldest of the triplets was unsure, but she finally decided that the support the school had offered made it better than university.

Now seemed to be an ideal moment to bring up everything that might have been troubling her, but Margot sent a warning glance at Con – who had opened her mouth to do just that – and the subject was dropped for an idle discussion about the weather. The grass they were walking on was starting to lose its springiness, with brown tints taking over the luscious green of the previous month. They reminisced about days when they would have been out in it constantly, surrounded by school friends. They had lost contact with a lot of their old school friends - Con, especially, had rather let her letters slip, for her friendships were never that close and writing to family took up enough time. Len and Ted would write occasionally, and she had had more than one letter from someone at the school who remembered her and knew she was at Oxford now. Margot had never been popular in any case, but she kept up the most regular correspondence, with Emerence, sometimes to the detriment of other contacts.

“I wonder where they all are now,” Len said, the first to voice the thoughts of all three. “It would have been nice to stay in touch, but you're always so busy that letters rather get shoved in the background.”

“Wherever they are, I hope they’re enjoying life as much as us – Margot especially,” Con added, a wicked glint in her eye. For a second it seemed as if Margot would take offence at such an open breach of what had previously been an unmentionable subject, but all three secretly knew that today was a day for trying to sort out their problems, and her face relaxed into a smile.

“Thanks for the flowers. You are right, of course, I do enjoy life. I don’t see why I shouldn’t, either; after all, in a few years time I will be in a convent, I need to have these experiences now. I don’t have time like you two.”

“Hardly,” countered Len frankly. “I’ve got just the same amount of time as you before I come back here to be married and settle down as a good little wife.”

Her voice was light, but her expression belied her. If Con noticed she didn’t say anything, and Margot was too caught up in herself to realise that such wispy hints were not like her sister; Len was usually forthright, prepared to say whatever was on her mind. Her interruption instead went rather unheeded. Margot seemed to struggle with herself, before she suddenly confessed,

“I know that I have to serve Him, and I know that it’s wrong of me to think like this, but sometimes when I’m out, having fun, I want to go back on my decision. Oh, I’m not funking it! I know that I shall be happy when I am helping others in His name, but listening to everybody else, and knowing what I’m missing out on, it is difficult sometimes.”

“Nothing worthwhile is ever easy,” Len responded, once more focused on her sister and not whatever had been troubling her. “People would understand if you wanted to change your mind, you know. It was a big decision to make.”

“No.” Margot shook her pretty head. “I can have my own doubts, and other people can think I won’t ever do it, but I know that He has called me. What sort of person would I be if I ignored Him? He has blessed me so much until now, and I have to thank Him for that. I just fully intend to enjoy myself as much as possible while I can.”

“I did wonder,” retorted Con frankly, but the edge was taken off her words by her small smile. “I thought maybe our Margot hadn’t been returned to us at all.”

“Nonsense. You two must just promise me one thing, though.”

“Of course,” came the eager reassurance at once. The three could argue more than any other of their siblings when they chose, and none of them shied away from confessing that sometimes she just couldn’t understand the other two, but deep down they would have done anything for each other. Little did they know it, but they all felt this strange instinct which told them that their parents loved each other just a little more than they did their children. Of course all of them were important, but what Jack and Joey had was something special. They had, all three, tended to stick together during even their early years, and this had told later on.

“First, you must promise to make me an Aunt,” grinned Margot, her teasing face not masking the deeper, more serious undertone of her voice. “Then you must promise to come and visit me as often as possible. I’ll never have my own children, and that is one of the biggest things that I had to give up, but you can help me.”

“Promise,” said Con at once, but although Len also added her assent, she held something back, and for a second Reg seemed to hang over them all. They knew without being told that a lot of the big decisions in Len’s life now had to be subject to his wishes as well as her own. All the same, they weren’t going to let that ruin their day, and soon afterwards the conversation turned again, this time to baby names. Unbeknown to them Con was almost exactly the same as her mother at the same age, in that she favoured flowery, unusual names; Len wanted something simple; Margot demanded that at least one of them named a child after her.

They had been walking in the general direction of their intended destination, but not really paying much attention to their surroundings. This proved to be Con’s downfall; she was so intent on arguing that Luciana would make a brilliant name for a baby that she failed to notice the unevenness of the path and caught her foot on a stone. The vagaries of life being what they were, she stumbled straight into the arms of the figure they hadn’t noticed approaching, but who caught her with a chuckle. She looked up and instantly blushed.

“I always seem to be rescuing you from mishaps,” said Albert jokingly.

Author:  Alison H [ Thu Jul 02, 2009 11:54 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

OK, exactly what is Margot getting up to :lol: ?

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Jul 02, 2009 4:00 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Another update, as I very much doubt I shall do one tomorrow. Sorry!

- X -

The three girls ended up – as two of them had hoped – being invited back to Albert’s house. He laughingly added that he could hardly do otherwise in the circumstances, but that he hoped they were prepared for a shock. His housekeeper, it appeared, had been intending to go shopping for the day, and he was only just coming home after a long shift, so it was entirely possible that there was not only no cake in the house but also no coffee. Although he didn’t say it, he had been planning to go straight to bed when he got home. Con would have tried to beg off, but at her first protest he demanded in mock hurt tones whether she still liked him or not, and generally made himself so jolly that they were left little choice but to go with him.

“My humble abode,” he introduced with a deep bow as he held the gate open for them. He seemed to be in a playful mood, something which was affecting Margot and even Len to an extent. The frown which had seemed to float across her eyes at intervals throughout the day disappeared, and she smiled politely if she contributed as much to the conversation as Con. The latter was as mortified as she’d known she would be should her fears be realised and they got to spend time with Albert; it was lovely to see him again, and he certainly didn’t stint on paying her attention, but she could only wait with bated breath to see what her sisters would take it into their heads to do next.

While he went to see if he could rustle up some coffee, and lunch for himself, they took a seat on the grass, lounging rather unashamedly. Len still tucked her skirt carefully under her legs, and Con didn’t go quite as far as Margot – who had stretched herself out with a sigh – but they were all relaxing more thanks to the combination of the brilliant weather and Albert’s playfulness. Nevertheless, Con took this first opportunity to hiss,

“Be nice!”

“Don’t you trust us?” retorted with Margot with incautious loudness, just as Albert reappeared around the corner with a tray in his hands. Con promptly blushed, and even Len looked a little uncomfortable, but if he had noticed he said nothing. Instead he presented them all with the sort of coffee only to be found in Switzerland, topped with delicious whipped cream. With one accord they accepted a cup, though once they were all sat down Con, under the cover of Len and Margot’s furious argument as to whether drinking hot drinks really could cool you down, leaned in and murmured to him,

“You’ll make me fat if you keep heaping cakes and cream on me in such luscious quantities.”

It was the first time she had addressed him properly since they had met, and he had begun to be afraid that she was angry at him for his forwardness. Now he was able to relax with a laugh; making it look as if he was simply shifting to a more comfortable position, he slipped his arm behind her so that she was half in his arms, and replied in an equal undertone,

“I wouldn’t care if you were; you’ll always be beautiful to me.” Fortunately, he took mercy on her after that, and to divert attention for a few minutes while she recovered herself from this stately compliment, he turned to the pair whose bickering was continuing.

Having assured them that as a doctor he couldn’t give them a definitive answer one way or the other, and advising them that as such they would be unlikely to reach an agreement now and would do well to wait and asked his learned colleague that evening, he moved the topic of discussion neatly on to lunch. Len retrieved their picnic, nearly braining Margot, who ducked with a squawk, in the process, with the assurance that they wanted nothing else.

“Just as well,” he informed them blandly, “for the one slice of bread we have left has gone hard, and I fear I would have been unable to rustle up even the most meagre of supplies. If you aren’t completely scared off by me, you can have your lunch now if you wish.”

Their thanks were profuse, for time was getting on now and all three felt hungry, and at once they began to divide the food. Anna had provided a small feast, given that it was intended for only three of them, with sandwiches, large slices of cake, fruit and a handful of various nuts each. At first Albert refused their generous offers, but Con finally convinced him to accept the sandwiches and slice of cake that were pushed on to him eagerly, as well as a juicy plum and a large apple. They fell to eating, not that this meant silence in the least.

Privately, Albert was convinced that his neighbours would be asking some very interesting questions after the noise that the four of them managed to make during the impromptu meal; everything that was said had to be vigorously and loudly disagreed with, and of them all he seemed to talk over someone more than the others (who weren’t shy about doing so) as he tried to referee. He got his reward though, as he and Con shared a slice of the cake, when she rested her head lightly against his shoulder and watched Len and Margot trying to decide who had been responsible for the time they broke one of Joey’s favourite vases.

“I’m sorry for descending on you like this,” she whispered, fingers entwined with his. In answer he kissed the top of her head, which of course had to happen at exactly the same moment as Len and Margot turned to him blankly, argument temporarily forgotten. If it had been left to Con there would have been a long and embarrassed silence, but Albert prevented that by involuntarily yawning. He had been awake for nearly eighteen hours now, helping with some complicated surgery, and as pleasant as he found their company he didn’t know how much longer he could stay awake.

“We should go,” said Len, so quickly that even Con couldn’t get in first. “I’m sorry, we never realised how tired you were or of course we wouldn’t have imposed.”

“I invited you,” he said generously, brushing off their apologies at once. All the same, he wasn’t inclined to argue as they packed up, and soon the lawn looked as neat as it had done previously. All that remained to be done was to bring the coffee tray in, and before Albert could bend and pick it up, Con had offered. Thanks to the look she sent at Len, that young lady prodded Margot out of the gate, and in the house the two got a minute to themselves.

“I’m so sorry for my sisters,” started Con, but she was silenced by Albert kissing her properly now that they were unobserved. For a few seconds afterwards they held each other, secure and silent, but another yawn jogged Con’s memory and she stepped back with a gentle smile. “When will I see you again?”

“Soon,” he promised, his eyes twinkling. He wasn’t going to say anything and ruin the surprise, but he and Jack had been talking. “Don’t ask questions now, you’ll just have to wait and see.”

With that Con had to be contented, and so while Albert went off to his well-deserved rest, she skipped outside to join her sisters, who were waiting impatiently a short way from the house. It was a long walk back, and they were mindful of Joey’s strictures about being on time, but it was safe to say that the day had been a success.

Author:  Joanne [ Thu Jul 02, 2009 4:22 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Con's romance is so sweet - I do hope Joey doesn't ruin it.

Lovely to find this new update - thanks!

Author:  shazwales [ Thu Jul 02, 2009 6:51 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the update,please can we have a nice Joey in this one?

Author:  jmc [ Fri Jul 03, 2009 7:38 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Albert is so nice. Please let Jo be a bit more understanding and not make life too difficult for Con.

Author:  JB [ Fri Jul 03, 2009 12:28 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That was lovely, Ariel.

Author:  Alison H [ Fri Jul 03, 2009 12:57 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That went well :D .

Author:  Luisa [ Fri Jul 03, 2009 3:49 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I am enjoying this - look forward to more!

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sat Jul 04, 2009 12:26 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks, that was so lovely and wonderful. Would love to find out what is bothering Len- pretty please?

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Jul 05, 2009 6:02 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Once again, my most sincere apologies for the delay - when I'm not working I'm organising my holiday :banghead: Fiona Mc, you will find out, I promise, but you know patience is a virtue.

- X -

Fortunately the three were back by the stipulated time, though they were the last of the family to arrive. The bell rang as Margot smoothed down a clean frock – sunning herself on the grass had left a large grass stain which she would hear all about from Anna very soon – and Len finished shaking off her hands. Con had just patted her hair one last time to make sure it was neat, so all three scrambled down together, looking only slightly less respectable than Joey always insisted on for the evening meal.

For once Jack had been able to grace them with his presence, an occurrence which did not go uncommented on. As Joey ladled heaped spoonfuls of peas onto plates and passed them down the table, Charles eagerly told his father about their day, with chipped in comments from Mike when it was felt that something vitally important – such as the colour the woman they ran into had been wearing – had been missed. Next was Joey’s turn, and the family were regaled with long, boring tales about how her writer’s block had lead her to seek coffee and sympathy with the scanty members of staff still next door.

Eventually, Jack turned to the triplets to ask how their picnic had gone. Con tried to catch her sisters’ eyes to warn them not to say anything about meeting Albert unless directly questioned, but they weren’t as naïve as some people seemed to think, and they had picked up on the attitude one of their parents, at least, had towards Con’s Young Man. As ever, they were determined to stand up for one another, and take the consequences of their actions as a trio. Naturally Con had guessed all of this the second the possibility of meeting Albert had been mentioned, and had known the inevitable outcome all day; the only question which remained was who was going to break the silence.

“It was lovely,” said Len, before anybody else could butt in. “Anna always makes such luscious food, and there was plenty – even for the unexpected guest we ended up pitching in on.”

“Oh?” was all that Jack said, though the way his eyes sparkled suggested that Len’s innocent air wasn’t fooling him in the slightest; or perhaps it was the uncomfortable way that Con was playing with the food on her plate which alerted him to the possibility of all not being well.

“It was such a pleasure to see Albert again,” sighed Margot reminiscently, glancing at her mother from under lowered eyelashes. Joey was clearly making a big effort not to say anything antagonistic, and naughty Margot was tempted to push her even further, but a look from her father restrained her for the moment. There was a short silence, Con too embarrassed to think of saying anything and everybody else not wanting too unless they upset Joey. In the end the latter broke it by snapping,

“Michael Maynard your table manners are appalling. If I see any such display again I will send you up to the nursery for a week.”

The unjust nature of the rebuke stung heavily, and had only one parent been there it is likely that Mike would have openly rebelled against such a dictum. But the children had it drummed into them from their earliest age that time with Jack was precious, and not to be ruined by petty squabbles. With this in mind he managed to gasp out something which could have passed as an apology, though his lowered brows and sulky expression for the rest of the meal made his feelings very clear.

“Poor Albert, to be lumped with you three after the night he had,” joked Jack, keen to ease the tension in the air. It was the only way he could openly defy his wife, and he knew he would get another long rant about that particular man later on. The shocked expression on Con’s face as she looked up – just because they weren’t being condemned for admitting that they’d seen him – was enough of a reward to justify the risk, though. “I hope you didn’t impose on his hospitality too long.”

”Not at all,” interposed Len quickly, always responsible for the good behaviour of her siblings. “He gave us coffee, then we shared our lunch because he’d run out of food completely in his house. I thought that he was jolly decent to ask us back like that, though, when he was clearly so tired.”

“I liked him,” added Margot frankly. “We didn’t really get to know him last time, he was only here for a couple of hours and most of them he spent staring at Con, but I for one wholeheartedly approve. Of course no-one could ever be quite good enough for my sister, but he comes pretty close.”

“Well, I am glad to hear that,” replied Jack, as gravely as he could manage. “If you think he is nearly good enough, I’m sure that gives us every reason to get them standing at the alter tomorrow.”

The combined effect of Charles’ confusion about whether Con really would be getting married tomorrow and Joey’s glower made him want to laugh wildly, but somehow he controlled himself and instead rang for Anna, as they had all finished. Coffee was brought and the two boys dismissed though the triplets were asked to stay where they were for the moment. Joey sipped her drink in a haughty manner which, had Len and Margot not felt they had the moral high ground completely, might have cut them to the quick. Even Con had hardened herself against her mother’s evident displeasure enough not to show how badly she was writhing inside.

“I just wanted to warn you that you shall be wanted tomorrow,” said Jack somberly once he was sure they were alone. From upstairs came the sounds of a violent affray, but he left Anna to deal with it. “I’ve managed to get the day off work, and to ensure that it remains that way I’m taking you three out for a walk. I’ve also arranged for Biddy and Hilary to take the children, if you want to come Jo?”

“It would be nice to see you for once,” she replied, and Jack nodded, well satisfied with himself. It had meant a lot of trouble to get this organised properly, but the surprise he had planned once they’d started on their walk would be well worth the trouble, particularly with Jo there too; he had had his doubts about whether or not she would come.

Matters arranged, the triplets were let go, so that they could freely discuss where their walk of the morrow might take them, and be told off by Con for mentioning her sweetheart.

Author:  Joanne [ Sun Jul 05, 2009 7:45 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I wonder what Jack's surprise it - and how Joey will react to it :?:

Eagerly waiting the next installment!

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Jul 05, 2009 11:00 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Still wondering if Joey knows something untoward about Albert: her behaviour is very strange.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jul 06, 2009 4:52 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm going on holiday tomorrow :D so although I will try to get at least one update posted, if nothing materialises I'm back a week Thursday, possibly be able to get something to you then.

- X -

The bustle next morning had to be seen to be believed. All Jack would say was that the intended route lay some miles away, and if they wanted to explore it fully they would want to set off early. Anna and Joey had been up at five to start preparing, while Jack enjoyed a rare lie in, and the girls grumbled at being woken up at seven – just as if they were still at school, as Margot said. However, she was the laziest of the lot, and even she was up in time.

Breakfast was a scanty affair which Joey didn’t even attend, too busy making sure that they had all definitely packed their hats. Jack and the girls made the best of the small bowls of porridge Anna had thrown together, but many was the reproaching look at the head of the table for insisting on quite such an early start. They were the only six up, as well, the rest of the children still – supposedly – slumbering peacefully. The illusion was shattered ten minutes before they were due to leave, when Jack had to go up and roundly scold Mike and Charles for starting a pillow fight and waking the second twins.

With two sets of howls, which also awoke Marie-Claire who promptly added to the din, Joey wavered about coming at all, but Jack was firm. She needed a day off, she had been far too busy recently, and Anna had promised that with the help of a faithful, very heavy, wooden spoon that they all – even Jack – knew she wasn’t afraid to wield if needed, she could keep control sufficiently long enough to get them to their minders. She was then being treated with a day off, to go and find a new ribbon for her hat, she said.

Only five minutes after Jack had wanted to leave, they were ready to go, thanks to a violent fantasia on his horn. Joey was the last in, radiant in a splendid shade of verdant, while Con and Margot bickered over who had rightfully got to the back seat first. Joey turned back to grin at them, nearly braining Jack with her wide-brimmed hat in the process, and was promptly told to calm down and try acting at least a little closer to her age. She removed her hat with a subdued glance, but her high spirits weren’t to be worn down, and soon enough she was swapping legends of the school with the triplets, who insisted that their Middles had been by far the worst.

Jack appeared to be concentrating on his driving, but all of a sudden he began to slow down. The passengers looked out of the window, worried lest anything should mar their intended enjoyment of the day, but they had simply come to a stop on an apparently uninteresting grassy verge. There weren’t even any chalets at this point, and they were barely thirty minutes’ walk from home. It was Joey who first noticed the smile lingering around Jack’s mouth, though he was doing his best to control himself at their wild guesses as to what could be wrong.

“No, I haven’t been daft enough not to top up with petrol, idiot,” he said calmly even as his wife opened her mouth to ask just that. “Nor is there an accident, or any other of the lurid things we usually seem to encounter. I’ve just arranged for an extra party to be added to ours, and we need to wait here until they appear.”

As infuriating as ever, he refused to answer any more questions, even when Joey declared him to be a complete beast. He appeared to be completely unmoved by their pleas for more information, or the wild and varied guesses which appeared from the back as the triplets waited to find out who would be tagging along. Margot was annoyed at another person being added to their party, for she still tended to be protective of her family unit and while she was prepared to share with her siblings, anybody else would be an annoyance; the former was worried that the mystery guest was Reg, which would make the day awkward indeed; Con simply stared out of the window, hoping that whoever it was wouldn’t expect her to converse too much, she wanted to try and plan out the gem of an idea she’d had the previous evening for her writing.

Once they’d established that it wouldn't be Auntie Hilda or Auntie Nell, both of whom had stayed on at the Chalet School after the end of term, but who were going on their own holidays the next week, or one of Joey’s friends who always seemed to be visiting the Platz, or another girl, they were rather lost and had to content themselves with waiting, though there were many comments about mean people who wouldn’t let folk into their harmless secrets when asked politely.

They didn’t have to wait long. Just two minutes after they’d given up on guessing a jovial figure appeared in front of them, walking jauntily towards the minibus and swinging his stick to try and hide his own nerves. At the sight of him Margot gave a wild cry and dived forwards, forgetting that she was sat just behind Len, who yelled nearly as loudly as her triplet’s head connected solidly with her own. Con flushed deeply, but a smile overtook her, and her whole face lit up. Reactions in the front were more muted, with Joey doing her best not to look unhappy, which Jack helped by entwining his fingers with her own and squeezing them gently.

“Hallo,” said Albert, as he hopped into the minibus, stowing his stick under one of the seats and putting his rucksack on another, before sitting in the two seats opposite Con, who suddenly minded much less the fact that the guest would almost certainly want her to talk a lot.

“Ready?” called back Jack, slowly easing out the clutch, so that the minibus began to creep forwards again.

Author:  Alison H [ Mon Jul 06, 2009 5:46 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Have a wonderful holiday!

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Mon Jul 06, 2009 8:44 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Have a wonderful holiday Ariel, that was wonderful. Hope the walk goes well and can't wait to read more when you get back

Author:  jmc [ Mon Jul 06, 2009 10:22 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Have a fantastic holiday. Looking forward to more when you get back.

Author:  JB [ Tue Jul 07, 2009 8:22 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

What a good plan of Jack's.

Have a lovely holiday, Ariel.

Author:  Abi [ Tue Jul 07, 2009 9:40 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Well, that should be an interesting combination! Hope you have a wunderbar holiday Ariel!

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Jul 09, 2009 3:19 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Just a short update, written looking out over the mountains :D Very scrappily edited - only have a certain amount of internet time a day - so sorry for any mistakes.

- X -

The journey went as well as could be expected, though conversation was somewhat stilted whenever Joey tried to get involved. She at least made an effort to be polite, which Con sent her a grateful smile for, though she was too busy holding Albert’s hand secretly behind the seat to pay much attention to other goings on. Albert himself proved to be as lively and entertaining as ever, updating Jack on important cases while also keeping the women of the car involved in the conversation.

They’d reached the foot of Jack’s chosen mountain by half past ten, and another fifteen minutes saw them winding their way gaily up the foot of it, talking and chattering among themselves. Len and Margot went off into their own separate conversation about something, while Joey and Jack discussed Marie-Claire’s new word, and the latest pranks Charles – who had chosen the past few days to be as bad as he’d ever been – and Mike, who rarely needed encouragement in the area. This left Con and Albert free to talk about their respective pasts; Albert starting by talking about growing up with his brother and sister in England, then Con starting to fill him in on the history of the school.

This of course drew in everyone at once, Joey reminiscing about the old days of her youth in the Tirol, and Len and Margot helping to recount many of the legends of the school. Joey told him all about the feud with the Saints, and the first amalgamation of schools that the Chalet School knew, which Con expanded on by calming informing him that her mother had once jumped off of the path and into the lake, taking her unsuspecting sister with her. She blushed and scolded her daughter roundly, but Con had made Albert laughed and cared not for anything that her parents might have to say.

It took them another hour to give edited details of some of the highlights of the school, tying them in with various moves from England to Canada, back to England and finally to Switzerland where they had settled. After that Jack laughingly stopped them and instead began to talk of another subject, a new patient at the San., who had been sent in with advanced TB about a week ago. The two men walked on in front, listing the positives and negatives of each treatment that the other suggested, while Joey and the triplets fell back. Soon they began to talk about whether the Salon needed new curtains, and if so what kind, and the time passed pleasantly enough, laughter ringing across the mountainside from mother and daughters.

They were about halfway up when Jack suggested stopping for lunch. The two men had carried the picnic basket between them most of the way, though Len and Margot had taken it to begin with, and this was set down carefully among the trees, while they settled themselves in various positions of lazy enjoyment of the fine weather. The meal was unpacked and they set to with the same vigour which had ruled their walk up to this point; lazily enough but with a purpose behind it. Once more the discussions tended to branch off, this time with Margot and Albert leading an argumentative debate on whether offering your doctoring skills for free was more beneficial than charging people for treatment and thus being able to research new treatments and cures.

It was ended by Jack, who had been romantically reminiscing with Jo about the Tirol, calling them all in so that he could make an announcement. Jo glanced at him and smiled; the triplets looked as if they would jump on their father should he not reveal the secret immediately, and Albert suddenly busied himself with retrieving an apple from the basket.

“You three are grown-ups now,” Jack began, somewhat pompously, but he was cut off by the triplets howling for information. “Ok, calm down, you’ll be attracting unwanted attention with a noise like that. I was just going to say that as such you ought to be trusted more, and your mother and I have decided that as we can’t afford to go wholesale down there this year we would open the holiday Chalet in the Tirol for your use. Reg has offered to accompany you, and make sure you are safe, but it will just be you four for a week. If, of course, you want to.”

There was an immediate and eager acceptance of his offer, though if Len said the right things she seemed to be acting. It was passed over as Margot demanded more details and Con turned to her sister to exclaim a their good luck. Only brilliant parents like theirs could have thought of such a wonderful treat, particularly as they had been bemoaning the lack of time that they had together just yesterday. It seemed too good to be true, but Jack was already furnishing them with more details, dates that they would be going and the rules while they were there.

Soon afterwards time forced them to move on, but that was the main topic of conversation thereafter, and the rest of the walk was spent in making plans and assuring Jack and Joey over and over again of how marvelous they were. At one point Margot even suggested three cheers, but this was put hastily to an end by her father, who did not want the whole of the mountain asking him just what was wrong. Even in the car on the way home little else was mentioned, in between making their own plans and then having to explain the geography of the area to Albert so he could fully appreciate what they intended to do.

Only Joey saw, just as they started coming back down the mountain, Albert carefully lead Con off so that they were slightly behind the group, and whisper something to her which made her beam up at him.

Author:  JS [ Thu Jul 09, 2009 3:24 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Quote:
updating Jack on important cases


Nice to see medical confidentiality being swept aside with true EBD aplomb. Maybe Jo will start to like him now (but I fear not).

Thanks - now go and enjoy your holiday!

Author:  Alison H [ Thu Jul 09, 2009 3:39 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Very impressed that you're posting on holiday!

Author:  JB [ Thu Jul 09, 2009 4:11 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

If you send the triplets off to the Tirol, will you all be there at the same time?

Perhaps you'll bump into each other. :lol: :lol: :lol:

Author:  shazwales [ Thu Jul 09, 2009 5:37 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

This is good. Please don't leave us with a cliff :x

Author:  Abi [ Thu Jul 09, 2009 8:11 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That was a nice idea, though it looks as though Len isn't quite so pleased - I hope she manages to get sorted out soon.

Also very impressed that you are posting while on holiday - hope you're having a good time!

Author:  jmc [ Thu Jul 09, 2009 11:31 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Poor Len. It could be harder to escape Reg if they are on holidays together. Just what did Albert say to Con?

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Fri Jul 10, 2009 12:49 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Hope Len is able to sort out her issues with Reg while they are away instead of being miserable all the time and wonder if Albert will be able to drop in for a visit? :wink:

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Jul 12, 2009 2:22 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

So I don't if this counts as leaving you on the cliff or lowering you further, but I do have another update! It isn't looking likely that I shall be able to do a third by the end of the holiday (though we have yet another day of rain, not one without so far, so you might get lucky!) Anyway, hope you enjoy, and sorry it took me so long to get back to them.

- X -

The natural result of the argument that they’d had before was an even more passionate reunion when they did finally swallow their pride and get in touch. Having created for him an alter ego of Melissa, whose frequent company her husband still didn’t question, Annabella could now explain all sorts of moods with reference to her new friend.

Of course she was in a bad mood with her family and snapped constantly, even at the children who had done little more than bang a door or leave a sticky handprint somewhere, and really didn’t deserve the treatment that they were receiving. She had had a row with Melissa, her artist friend, over something trivial – what kind of paint she should have been using on a particular painting or something. In this manner she told the truth as often as possible, merely substituting one name for the other, which wasn’t even really lying as Himerus had yet to reveal his true identity.

It was Annabella who called first, ringing up one evening once the children were in bed and Jonathon had gone for his nightly bath – to soothe away his nerves after a hard day’s work. At the other end of the line came the tinny, repetitive sound of ringing, so long that she wanted to smash the telephone against the wall. In the end, though, he picked up, voice blurred as if he had drunk a lot.

“It’s me,” she said quietly. “Are you free tomorrow?”

The meeting was organised, and the two agreed on a time for her to be at his flat.


The next day, Annabella turned up punctually, as composed as ever, though she did have to hide her hands in her long, fur trimmed coat sleeves so that he wouldn’t see how much she was shaking. She was determined not to show any weakness in front of him, determined not to show him how much she had missed him and especially determined not to forgive him for his previous comments until he had apologised most profusely. She wasn’t the one in the wrong in the relationship, she wasn’t just using him, she loved him and he should love her too, only he didn’t, she stood by that. All of her defences melted the second that he opened the door, however, and she fell straight into his arms; he was unshaven, his eyes bleary and with heavy shadows around them. He looked exactly as she would have (the exception being his stubble-cum-beard) had she not had to maintain herself for appearances’ sake. Whatever had happened in her life, she wasn’t going to give Jonathon any excuse to embarrass her by preferring someone younger.

The only person in her life who didn’t seem to care about her image – or so she’d thought – was Himerus, but it turned out that he was just as bad as the rest. Only he wanted to change her in completely the opposite ways; he wanted her to be less refined, less scared of showing her feelings, more open and honest. With everyone. And that was the problem. As much as she loved him, she had always known that she couldn’t be with him, could never leave Jonathon. He knew that too, of course, he had guessed that from her image, once again.

“Are you ok?” was his first question, as he held her in his ever strong arms, protecting her from danger. She relaxed, shutting her eyes, knowing that everything would be ok now. She had never felt this way with Jonathon, it was an entirely new experience to think that she could just be herself, say what she wanted and confess that sometimes she didn’t feel like putting her make-up on, all without being judged. Any of her friends would have scorned her for that, after their initial shock, but Himerus really couldn’t care less (so she never had told him things like that, but she could, if she wanted).

“I’m with you,” she replied, breathing him in. Admittedly he had smelt better, mainly when he hadn’t refrained from showering for three days so that he could get drunk instead, but even that wasn’t enough to put her off. “I’m so sorry for what I said.”

“So am I,” he said, but he frowned as he did. When he ushered her in, he invited her to sit on the sofa, where so often they had lain, entangled, until the memory of the pattern of the cushions, and the broken spring which marked so clearly the squalor that he lived in compared with her own comfortable life, were imprinted on her memory. She watched him as he fetched something from the tiny cupboard in the corner, home to plates, what little bent cutlery he owned and also important paperwork which was not to be lost in the general chaos which marked out his floor. “Here.”

He thrust the paper at her unexpectedly, while she was still daydreaming about something else entirely. She grasped at it, uncomprehending for a moment, until she looked down and saw what it was about. It was his own scrawl which covered the page, difficult enough to read at first but translatable now. She skimmed it quickly, going first pale and then a deep red as she started to see what he was getting at. He had made enquiries about a house in a different county, many miles from her current home, in fact many miles from the nearest city.

So detailed had he been that he had even been able to give a monthly rent, as well as a deposit, what work needed to be done (patching up the ceiling he had assured her he could do in his smooth notes, and they could bring all of his furniture, it would just be a case of cleaning it a bit to make it habitable). He added at the very end that as long as she took what she could to sell once they got there, until he could ingratiate himself with some local art galleries and start selling his own works, they would be able to afford to live, if a little more sparsely than she was used to. It was the ideal love nest, a place where they could run away and just be together.

“Himerus?” she asked gently.

“Come with me,” he whispered, kneeling in front of her, forehead pressed to her hands. “I know you want to, and I definitely want to be with you. I know that I couldn’t offer you what you’ve got at the moment, but I could give you love, and we could be together for always. With my wages we could do this house up, and make it so nice, make it our own. Then I could apply to the bank for a mortgage, and we could buy it, and be stable and happy. Run away with me, Annabella?”

“I don’t know,” she choked out. “I – I can’t. I don’t know you.”

Everything seemed to be bearing down on her at once. She wanted to go with him, so badly, to forget everything, to forget herself, and be the person that he wanted her to be, to be happy. She didn’t know if she could, though, or whether his dreams were completely different from her own. She knew nothing about him, his past life and experiences. While she had been as open and honest as she felt she could, he had never told her anything about himself. If he disappeared tomorrow, she would have no way of finding him again. He was just this mysterious presence in her life.

Suddenly she tore herself away, her mind whirling. Part of her wanted to so badly; she wanted to buy into this dream and believe that everything would be ok in the end, that they could be happy no matter what the circumstances. But the logical part of her mind knew that this was foolish. Everything would change, and she couldn’t let that happen, that wasn’t what her affair had been about. She didn’t want to give up her nice house, her posh clothes and her unrestrained spending.

“I don’t know,” she whispered again as she shut the front door. But the piece of paper was clutched in her hand, and Himerus knew more clearly than if she’d said it that that was a promise she would think about it.

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Jul 12, 2009 2:59 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Hope you're having a lovely holiday :D .

Con's books sound much more interesting than Joey's!

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sun Jul 12, 2009 8:27 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks, enjoy the rest of your holiday

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Jul 14, 2009 4:51 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for all your comments :D - have enjoyed my holiday immensely and don't want to leave!

- X -

After that announcement, preparations for Tirol were in full swing. The triplets had only been given a weeks’ notice before their departure, and had suddenly decided that they needed new clothes, new bags and possibly a new suitcase (Margot tried everything she could think of to persuade Jack that he needed to pay for all of these things, as they would also be useful for university, they were handy and practical, and it had been a year since he last saw her, he should be making her feel more loved).

Surprisingly, it was Len who threw herself most into the preparations after her unenthusiastic greeting of the news. She seemed to feel that if she thought about everything as much as possible, she wouldn’t actually have to think about what it would be like when they got there; Con, at least, had noticed just how much she and Joey were to be found alone, discussing things in earnest, though they always broke off before anyone could over hear what they were saying.

There was little time to ponder on the mystery, however, even if she had had someone to ponder it with. Margot, in typical Margot style, had been completely diverted from her concern over her sister by the news that she would be going to the Tiernsee again, and was now running around frantically, trying to organise everything and everyone at once. She had even ventured to ask if they could call on Reg and talk about the holiday with him, though Jack had managed to put her off for now by telling her that Reg was working far too hard to want to be bothered by her.

The third triplet, always the quietest and the overlooked, was also busy between worrying about her sisters. She had promised to have her writing finished by the end of the holiday, which coincided neatly with the deadline she had for sending it off if she wanted it to reach Albert’s brother when he’d asked for it. The problem she had encountered, however, was trying to reach an ending for it. She couldn’t bear to part Annabella and Himerus, but at the same time she couldn’t possibly justify them running away together, which went completely against Annabella’s character.

Aside from that, she had to get ready for the holiday itself, which as joyful as it promised to be had come at rather an awkward time. If it could have been postponed another fortnight, so that she was able to have her writing sent off before she left, she would have been more than grateful. Already she was trying to formulate an argument for her taking Jack’s typewriter while she was away, as she didn’t have one of her own and didn’t want to send the last chapter or two handwritten, and looking most unprofessional.

A secondary and certainly unimportant thought was her luggage. She had managed to drag herself away from her writing twice for a grand total of ten minutes before she had another brilliant idea for something and got pulled back into it again. Her suitcase, still half full from her triumphant return to Switzerland, stared forlornly at her from the corner, calling to her at odd moments to come and fill it again. In all honesty she had so few clothes – the others had bought new outfits during their year away, Len through necessity and Margot not as much so – she had simply kept what she had at the end of her time at the Chalet School and made do. There were vague plans for a daytrip to Berne to do some shopping before they left, but even that went largely over her head.

More than once Joey had warned her of what would happen if she didn’t start soon, that she would invariably forget something vital, but to Con this was simply an everyday occurrence of nagging to be easily overlooked. In fact, she was so caught up with trying to find an ending that worked that she had nearly stopped thinking about Albert, although admittedly there were periods when she would look out of the window and her writing wouldn’t come into her head at all.

Unbeknownst to Con, Jack had been observing her discreetly from a distance since he made his announcement, and there was little that he missed. Thinking it over, he had decided that there was only one thing which could awake Con to how badly she needed to get ready, and that was a timely reminder of what he was sure she would already know – though if she didn’t, it would certainly start her thinking about the holiday.

Thus, one evening she was called into his office after Abendessen. Even now she was rather awed by the summons; usually trips to the office were so that their father could have a Talk with them about their behaviour. The last time had been many years ago, when one of her reports from the school had announced her as just too dreamy – the warning she had received then pulled her up sharply. Racking her brains desperately for what she could have done this time, for she was completely unaware of Jack being interested in her writing, let alone knowing how much time she spent on it each day, she dragged her feet down the corridor to the door, which she knocked on politely.

Her feelings must have showed when she came in at Jack’s summons, for he laughed heartily and assured her that he wasn’t going to row her about anything. She still sat on the edge of her seat, for despite being a university student and adult in her own right now, Con, like all of the others, still very much felt the little authority Jack did wield on occasion. He looked even wearier than usual, after a long day in the San., but there was a twinkle in his eyes that belied the mischievous young man he had been at her age.

“I notice you haven’t done much packing yet,” he began, leaning back in his chair. Con had the grace to blush. “In case you didn’t know – which I highly doubt, as I heard about you whispering to him on the picnic – I thought I should probably tell you that Albert has, coincidentally, booked off of work the same week that you will be going away. Strangely enough, he asked the day after he found out you three were going on holiday with Reg, and for no logical reason I found myself obliged to agree, despite it meaning that I shall be down two of my best men.”

“He did mention he was also having a holiday,” confessed Con, cheeks now a deep scarlet. She relaxed when Jack inexplicably started to laugh, unable to contain his mirth at her meekness any longer.

“Yes, well, perhaps best not to tell Joey at present,” he advised, once he’d stopped chuckling. “She’s got enough problems at the present, which is half the reason she seems to be upset at you two courting. In any case, I don’t suppose that, should you happen to bump into each other while you’re over there, you’d want to have forgotten anything, would you.”

“No,” said Con slowly. After a pause for thought, she looked up, face cleared. “Thanks, dad, I promise I’ll get most of my packing tomorrow. But you know, it’s really important that I get this piece of writing done. I was going to ask if I could borrow your typewriter while we’re away, if you and mum wouldn’t mind sharing for once.”

Jack looked her over, pondering the request. His machine was quite precious to him, and had seen him through many years of service, but the only one at the holiday home was an old, rickety thing which Joey had been going to throw out years ago but had sent out there in case she had an idea for a book while they were on holiday. He was sure that he could trust Con to look after it, if he did entrust it to her and he was at home so infrequently that he and Joey could easily share one if they had to, but there was something behind the request that he didn’t understand.

“Mind me asking why?” he replied in the end, watching his daughter closely. He didn’t have his wife’s intuition for reading people and their moods, but he was as good as anyone when he tried.

“I suppose I should tell you,” said Con frankly. “I don’t know if you know, but Albert’s brother is a publisher.”

“Yes, he asked me for some of your old articles to read over, and mentioned it then. I didn’t think that it would come to anything, though.”

“He’s asked to see a full length piece of writing from me, so he can judge how good I am, and whether he could publish me. That’s what I’m working on at the moment, only I need to send it by the end of the holiday, so I need a typewriter you see.”

“Let me think about it,” said Jack in the end, still undecided. “I don’t know if it would stand up to being carted halfway across Europe.”

That seemed to be the end of the interview, and Con, heartened by the fact that she hadn’t met with a straightforward refusal, stood up to make good her escape. Jack even leant forwards and began to sort out where he had been in the ever-growing mountain of paperwork when suddenly he was knocked backwards by a violent bear hug from his daughter, who had thrown her full weight behind the gesture. Once the shock had worn off, he caught her with a tiny groan, and sat her in his lap, as if she had been no more than three and simply grazed her knee and demanded to see daddy again.

“You’re fantastic,” she whispered to him, snuggling her head against his shoulder. “I hope I’m always lucky enough to have you.”

“I doubt that,” he said practically. “I rather suspect old age will decide to claim me before it does you. But just remember that I’m so proud of you now, seeing you all grown up. And I’ll be even more proud of you when I come along to congratulate you on your first book being published – which it had better be, as I’m trusting my typewriter to you – and find you there with your first child in your arms, and Albert looking after you, as happy as I could ever wish any of my children to be.”

“You’re making me cry now,” she sniffed, with a half laugh, squeezing him as tightly as she could. Jack squeezed back with a vim, because he knew that he was losing his little girl to another man, and all he could do was stand in the background and do his best to stop her being hurt.

“You just remember that my shoulders are very good for crying on, whenever you need to.”

At last the two had to break apart, but it was only after Con had regained her composure and kissed his cheek fondly. Then she danced away to complete as much of her packing as she could before she had to go to bed, leaving him to try and refocus his mind on his work and not worrying about them all.

Author:  JB [ Tue Jul 14, 2009 5:26 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That was lovely, Ariel.

Author:  shazwales [ Tue Jul 14, 2009 8:41 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel, Jack is lovely in this, looking forward to seeing more.

Author:  Alison H [ Tue Jul 14, 2009 9:11 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

They're lucky Joey hasn't made a fuss about Len and Reg going away together (even with Con and Margot as chaperones :lol: ): I don't think she'd be too impressed if she found out Albert was going too! Jack is so nice in this.

Author:  JellySheep [ Wed Jul 15, 2009 3:15 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

As ever, a great story. You are very dependable that way. I hope you are having a good time in Tirol and will come back with lots of inspiration! I really like the way you have Jack behaving, though I am a bit worried by Joey - is she hiding something? I hope she isn't going to cause Major Trouble.

Author:  Helen P [ Wed Jul 15, 2009 5:54 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I've just found this and read the whole story to date! I'm really enjoying it and most intrigued about where the story is going. Thank you, and I'm looking forward to more when you are back from your holiday. :D

Author:  jmc [ Thu Jul 16, 2009 8:33 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I hope that no one lets slip to Joey that albert is going too. I really like Jack in this but am worried that Joey knows something about Albert that we don't. Or does she just want Con to come and live with her while she writes so that Con can look after the younger ones?

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Thu Jul 16, 2009 11:14 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Jack is such a sweetie here. Thanks Ariel

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Jul 16, 2009 3:40 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for all of the lovely comments :D The last effort was, in fact, the product of inspiration found on a walk back from Seespitz, but I've plenty more from the holiday. I just hope it translates ok into writing!

- X -

All too soon the day arrived. Con was the first awake, and threw back her shutters with a flourish to stare out over dampened grass, the dew still clinging obstinately although it would be gone within an hour. The sun was rising fast, gentle rays of light meandering across the soft stone faces of the mountains which ringed the home she knew so well. She sniffed deeply, having been long enough away to start truly appreciating the soft mountain air like champagne again.

There was a scuffle in the room next door, and a few seconds later her door was opened cautiously and Len came to stand next to her, staring out over the same panorama that her sister gazed so raptly on. Everything was bathed in a golden light which created new shadows where there had been none before, and dazzled the two young women as they watched. Neither moved, their presence together needing no explanation and no words to make it homely and comfortable. Then, softly, Len slipped her hand into Con’s.

“Your freezing!” exclaimed the younger of the two immediately. “Here, come and wrap yourself up.”

Both moved over to the bed, leaving the window open so that the fresh air could circulate around the room, and Len obediently tucked herself under the cover, for she had come out without her dressing gown and was cold. Con sat down, wrapping a jumper she had tossed carelessly on top the bed before she went to sleep the night before around her shoulders. Then she smiled, a sisterly smile reserved for the only two people in the world who could connect so deeply to her.

“I still feel like we should be listening out for Matey,” she giggled. “Silly, isn’t it? A year away and still overawed by her.”

“Are you looking forward to the holiday?” asked Len in a queer voice, in what seemed to be a completely disconnected question from the subject Con had been talking about. She glanced sharply at Len, but whatever she was feeling she was hiding it well. Worryingly, she had been doing this more and more since they moved away.

“Of course. I think that it’s brilliant we’re being trusted like this, and I can’t wait to get away and have some time by ourselves.”

“Even though Reg is coming?”

The question caught Con off guard and she had to stop before she answered. The triplets were always honest with each other, no matter what happened, but at the same time tact had never been Con’s strong point, and although she was learning to guard what she said, she still had to pause quite often. She decidedly did not want to start the holiday with an argument, but while Len continued to be so touchy about the subject she really didn’t know what might upset her.

“Honestly? At first I wasn’t so keen on him coming,” she said frankly in the end. “But mum and dad would never have trusted us three to go alone, even now, and whatever I think you love Reg, and I have to accept that. I like him, I genuinely do, and I can understand now why you spend so much time alone with him when you can, though I couldn’t before I met Albert. But – well, it would have been fun to have an adventure by ourselves.”

“I wish he wasn’t coming,” said Len abstractly. “I can’t ever seem to escape him, and as deeply as I care about him sometimes I wish he’d let me alone.”

There was an undercurrent of real venom in her tones, something which shocked Con. All three would have owned that Len wasn’t the most placid of them, but she usually held her temper well, and such feelings were inexplicable, particularly given the person in question. If her sister noticed her surprise, however, she said nothing, merely continued to wind a loose thread on Con’s duvet around her finger, evidently lost to her own thoughts. Her usually pretty face was pale, ringed by shadows brought on by a lack of sleep, and she was clearly worrying about what would happen during the next week.

Before Con could think of a fitting reply, her door opened once more, to admit Margot. She looked less than pulchritudinous with ruffled hair and sleep still clouding her eyes, her nightdress hanging loosely down to her knees so that she, too, dived straight under the bedclothes. The atmosphere between the other two shattered at her presence, and Len forced herself to look up with a smile, while Con mentally cursed Margot for her poor timing.

“I thought I heard your dulcet tones,” the latter informed them, ignorant of her wrong doing. “Do you think it’s too early to start dragging the suitcases downstairs? I want to be off as early as possible.”

“Yes,” said Len. “You’ll wake everyone up, and then they’ll love us.”

“Wrong,” replied Margot sweetly, wriggling out from under the duvet. “Unless my hearing’s going, Marie-Claire started yelling about ten minutes ago. That’ll be the nursery up now, and everyone else with it. I’m surprised you haven’t heard. Last one with their baggage downstairs isn’t coming!”

She dived towards the door, unable to control her high spirits, and Len followed at a slightly more sedate pace, turning around to roll her eyes before she left the room. Con couldn’t help but giggle; Margot, the most grown up in some ways, was often also the most childish. All the same, there was wisdom in her words. Frühstück would be ready soon, and after that they would be leaving.

Author:  Alison H [ Thu Jul 16, 2009 4:07 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Poor Len - Reg always struck me as being very possessive.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Fri Jul 17, 2009 4:14 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Just a short update today, sorry, I've been working too hard again :wink:

- X -

Frühstück was an undeniable success, with even the smallest of the children allowed to sit at the table for once to say goodbye to the triplets. Understandably they were disappointed not to be going on holiday to the Tirol this year, but Joey and Jack hadn’t brought their children up to resent what others had, and they all wished the triplets ‘Good Luck’ quite cheerfully, with the exception of Phil, who nearly cried at them leaving. The mood after that was one of dampened resignation, even Joey not able to cheer them up.

But as sad as they might have been at leaving the rest of the family, none of the three leaving were going to back out because of it. Frühstück over Jack helped them to bring down the last bits of their luggage downstairs, mainly suitcases as both Con and Margot seemed to have decided that even the kitchen sink needed to be included, just in case. Joey fussed around the children, chasing Geoff around until he found a clean handkerchief and trying to draw Felicity out of her shell by getting her to look after Marie-Claire, who was decidedly grizzly.

Shortly, Reg arrived, his face beaming as he looked forwards to a week of being with Len. He had come in his own small runabout to get his suitcase over, but he was being entrusted with the minivan for the duration of the holiday, possibly the thing that Jack was most nervous about bar his typewriter. It seemed, to him, that he was giving away all of his most precious possessions towards the cause.

He and Reg loaded up the van, trying to find a way to fit everyone’s luggage in comfortably and securely so it wouldn’t shoot down the bus and make them crash, or something equally horrendous, while they were getting there. They also had to leave a gap just in case they happened to pick someone up en route, completely coincidentally (Reg was also in on the secret, being nearly as good a friend to Albert as Jack was). Margot made an attempt at supervising, though she wouldn’t reveal what was so delicate in her suitcase that it had to be handled with utmost care, but she was far more of a hindrance than a help and her father was secretly glad when Charles called her away for something.

It was only just past the time they had arranged to set off that they were actually ready to go. Happily, Reg seated himself behind the wheel and made himself comfortable while the goodbyes went on around him, but just like Jack many a time before him, he found himself forced to perform a violent fantasia on the horn when, ten minutes later, they were still continuing. Con climbed in first, eager to get off, but the other two were slower. The leitmotif of grief seemed to be coming to the fore again, despite Jack’s best attempts to keep the atmosphere light.

Then Margot was persuaded to climb aboard, and Len, after one last hug from Joey, followed. Taking full advantage of the situation, before someone could remember a forgotten hanky or their toothbrush, Reg turned on the engine, fully prepared to go. Before he could reverse, however, Joey was distinctly heard to start worrying about the triplets well-being. Her husband turned to her, laughter in his eyes, and a second before he spoke Con suddenly guessed what was coming.

“They’ll have Reg and Albert to look after them,” he soothed, though the effect was somewhat the opposite. For a second Joey just stared at him, wondering what on earth he could mean, then suddenly started forwards, as if she was going to stop the now momentum gaining vehicle and demand an explanation. It was too late, though, already Reg had reached the end of the drive, and was starting to swing onto the main road.

They stayed just long enough to see Joey say something which made Jack roar with laughter before they were bowling steadily along the road, faces set on the way ahead. They would stop briefly to pick up Albert, as Con and Reg knew, though the other two were only just grasping what their father’s last remarks had been about, and then they would go onwards to the Tirol, and start their week away.

Author:  JB [ Fri Jul 17, 2009 5:36 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Caught up with two updates. Thanks, Ariel.

Author:  Alison H [ Fri Jul 17, 2009 10:25 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Hope it goes well, and that Margot doesn't feel left out by the 2 couples.

Author:  jmc [ Sat Jul 18, 2009 2:54 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Hope Jo somehow doens't decide to follow them to try and keep con out of Albert's hands. Thanks. This is great. :D

Author:  shazwales [ Sat Jul 18, 2009 5:27 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel, would love to have seen the look on Joeys face after Jacks last comment!

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sat Jul 18, 2009 5:36 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm hoping Len is able to sort out her feelings about Reg. If Joey is aware I can understand her reluctance better about Albert.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sat Jul 18, 2009 5:31 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

The only brief stop that morning was to pick up Albert, who was summery and handsome despite having sat up into the early hours of the morning worrying about his forthcoming holiday; unbeknownst to him, Con had done exactly the same. They were both aware that this would be the first time they’d really get to know each other, and they were both subsequently nervous that the other person wouldn’t like them after all. Not that either showed it, indeed after Albert had slung his luggage casually on top of the rest they cuddled up in the corner and talked in low voices.

It was Reg who first suggested the game of ‘I Spy’ which kept the other three occupants of the car amused for many miles. After lunch, Albert had said he wanted to join Reg in the front of the van so they could get all of the San business out of the way before they arrived, but at first the wild shrieks of the girls as they guessed the correct answer entrapped Con and Albert in their own little world. Nobody was rude enough to blatantly eavesdrop, but it was on record that not once when they happened to glance around were either of the pair looking anything less than the model of contented bliss.

There was a stop scheduled for around half past one to set to on the picnic Anna had prepared for them all (Albert had brought his own, Jack thinking it safer to let no-one know of Con’s plan). Once they reached the Tirol the triplets had been warned that it would be up to them to cook, but for one day they had been granted a boon. The place suggested was a grassy ledge set just back from the main road, which they had stopped at before on trips. There was a running stream near enough for one person to go and fetch water to wash hands and faces, and it was peaceful enough that it could be enjoyed easily. It was also overshadowed by trees, a blessing in the midday heat which was making wavy lines rise out of the road.

They were slightly later than anticipated in reaching the destination, Reg not being as experienced or confident a driver as Jack – particularly as this was his first time in the minivan – but if anyone noticed they said nothing. Two of them were far to engrossed in each other to pay any heed to the snowy peaks flashing past the window, and the rest were stuck on a decidedly difficult ‘D’ which Reg had chosen as his latest guess. When they did pull up, however, there were cries of joy, mainly from Margot, for it was now not so much lunch as an early and large Kaffee und Kuchen.

While the two men laid out the rug and organised food as much as was needed, Len went to fetch water and Con dragged Margot off to discreetly relay to her all of the compliments she had been paid on the way so far, and all of the nice things Albert had said to her. She was positively glowing after so much time with her inamorato, and it took Margot a lot to hide her jealousy. All the same, years at the Chalet School had taught her self-control, and she somehow managed to hide the worst of it, though Con picked up a little. She let the subject drop as they wandered back, and talk soon turned to what they should make their first expedition on the following day.

By the time they returned, Len had arrived with water, and they dipped their hands in and splashed their hot faces gratefully, reminding Len and telling the two outsiders of the time Mike had been sent to fetch it, and come back sopping wet after he decided to try fishing with his bare hands while he was about it. He had been roundly scolded, for nobody wanted a cold to spread around the family, and his punishment had been exile with nothing more than the sandwiches made for him until he had dried off and wouldn’t get the rest of them wet. Looking enviously on as the others shared cake and Anna’s special fruit juice, he had made up his mind never to try that trick again.

Because of the late time, and the wisps of clouds which passed across them and adumbrated a storm in the not too distant future, the meal was a hasty affair. The weather had been oppressively hot until now, which all five knew meant a bad thunderstorm when it came, and although they had been hoping it would hold off until they reached the Chalet fortune had decided not to favour them. Reg was confident he could drive through it, especially as they would reach the main road soon, and then he could let the minivan out and they would get on much quicker, but he promised that if he reached any difficulties at all he would give up his position to Albert, who had driven a large vehicle once before. All the same, the sooner they got there, the better, as Margot so neatly summed it up.

Lunch over they set off again, this time with more urgency in their pace. Reg no longer slowed to let them look at places of interest, and his attention was far more focused, though he and Albert still managed to have their talk so that they wouldn’t bore the others later on. The triplets began to recount tales of old, though they soon got bored and instead moved on to talk of their degrees. Eventually the still, heavy atmosphere began to affect them, and Margot was the first to give in and yawn. Len didn’t take long to follow her example, and soon enough there was silence, but for the low murmur of voices from the front.

After that it didn’t take long for Len to fall asleep, especially given her restless night, and Margot looked as if she would be happy to follow. The second of the triplets curled up against a window, gazing dreamily out and losing herself to her writing. She had the manuscript to date packed carefully in her suitcase, and Jack’s typewriter in a secure position amongst it all, which he had seen to himself. The only question was whether she would have time to write an ending, should she think of one; if all the plans they made were to be carried out, it was going to be a full week. Occasionally she would meet Albert’s eye and smile sleepily, but soon even he broke off and sat silent.

To the weary travelers it seemed barely any time at all until they stopped, but this was explained by Reg turning a tired face to them and demanding directions. Len and Albert swapped places so that she could map-read and guide him the rest of the route (Albert admitting unashamedly that directions were not his strong point, and he only hoped his eventual wife would be better than him). Now removed from his seat, he came and wrapped an arm around Con, letting her bury her head in his chest as they drove, Margot snoring contentedly behind them.

Night had fallen by the time they reached the familiar lake road, and after that it was only a matter of minutes until they finally reached their destination. All were tired, hungry and dirty, and Reg looked as if he would like nothing more than to dive into bed and stay there, but with an effort they pulled themselves together. While Albert and Reg brought in luggage, putting it in the hallway so that it could be dispatched to the right rooms in the morning, the three girls set about fishing for the other food which had been included to make a meal for them that night.

They were in the Tirol.

Author:  PaulineS [ Sat Jul 18, 2009 6:16 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the update,

Author:  Alison H [ Sat Jul 18, 2009 6:43 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Now was that "eventual wife" comment from Albert a hint :D ?

What a lovely journey, all that picnicking and washing in streams :D , and Reg did very well managing all the driving.

Author:  jmc [ Sat Jul 18, 2009 10:41 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That was lovely. Thank you

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sun Jul 19, 2009 5:54 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks, it was lovely to read more

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jul 20, 2009 3:34 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Sorry for the delay, I can't seem to stay awake at the moment. I also can't help wondering what it would have been like if Margot had been the one to fall in love. It would have been so much more interesting. :hammer: my imagination.

- X -

The evening seemed to go quickly after that. By the time dinner had been made and eaten they were all ready to go to bed, except for Con, who was secretly planning on staying up and doing some writing. She was as tired as the rest, but a brilliant idea for the next chapter had assaulted her on the journey and she badly needed to get it onto paper and see how it panned out. Reluctantly, however, she dragged herself through the small talk which the others forced themselves to make, not wanting to appear rude in front of Albert.

Reg was the first to give in and declare himself ready to retire. They still had to sort out rooms and bedding, although the triplets promised to get all of the beds ready if Reg and Albert would fish for the bags containing everything they would need for the first night, which they had been wise enough to pack separately. The unexpected guest had offered to find his own lodgings, but at the time Jack had told him not to be silly, and when consulted on the matter Reg concurred. It was silly for him to spend money on lodgings when there were many rooms going begging in the chalet, and they knew that, like Reg, he was to be trusted.

Bed’s prepared and necessary items found, a quietness descended over the chalet which threatened to stay there all night. Moonlight was the only illumination to be had, except in Con’s room, where she sat up for some time writing. For some reason the long journey had granted her pen with a ready flow, and ideas poured out onto the page. Little did she know then that she would look at them in the morning and dismiss most of them in disgust for the complete nonsense that they were. At the time, they seemed fantastic, her key to becoming as popular an author as her mother.

It took nearly an hour for tiredness to start itching at the back of her eyes inconsiderately enough to force her to take notice of her surroundings. She was sure that everyone else would be asleep by this late stage, but she had made a promise to Albert and she decided to slip out and see if she could honour it. The intention had been to meet up just long enough to say goodnight, and she had sat down to her writing to fill in the time before she could safely do so without waking the others, but it had dragged her onwards longer than she had expected.

In the dark hall, her footsteps sounded too loud against the hollow wooden floorboards, even though she was tiptoeing. Every breath woke someone up, and had her found out, though why she was so afraid of this she was at a loss to say. She was only going along to wish him goodnight, after all. There was just something so mysterious and romantic in the idea of a secret rendezvous. Although she didn’t know this house as well as Freudesheim she managed to reach Albert’s room, at the other end of the hall, her heart pounding in her ears but unmolested.

Her knocking on Albert’s door wouldn’t have been heard by anyone not straining their ears for her arrival, but all the same it was answered with a murmured ‘Come in’. She stuck her head hesitantly around the door to see Albert sat at the dressing table against one wall. He was wearing his pyjama bottoms, and looked extremely tired, but had evidently sat up waiting for her. Con could guess that had he lain down on the bed, he would have fallen asleep before her arrival.

“Sorry I’m so late,” she whispered as she came in, shutting the door silently behind her. He opened his arms and she fell into them, leaning her head against his shoulder contentedly. Everything just felt so right when she was around him. ”I thought I’d jot down a few ideas for my writing, and time slipped away.”

“I guess I’m going to have to get used to that on this holiday,” he chuckled. “Many times I’ve heard Jack say that a major drawback in being married to an author is their inability to concentrate on anything until they’ve got that done.”

“Are all of these mentions of marriage a hint?” she asked interestedly. She noticed even in the dim light that she had made him blush. “For I can tell you now that I’m no good at map reading, and any marriage with me would be one shared with more imaginary people than I could ever name.”

“Understood,” he responded gravely, then suddenly relaxed into a chuckle. “Don’t look so worried, I’m not about to propose. All of that sort of thing can wait until much later, thankyou, you’re still too young to be thinking about things like that. Let’s just get to know each other first.”

“Agreed,” she said instantly. The second mention of it in one day had worried her quite a lot. She loved him dearly, but like he had said she knew nothing – or precious little – about him yet. She wasn’t as responsible as Len, she really couldn’t make that sort of commitment for some years to come. “I just hope you still love me afterwards.”

“I don’t know how I couldn’t,” was the simple reply. “You’re so beautiful and clever. You’re kind and thoughtful, and you make me laugh.”

It was Con’s turn to blush, but she didn’t need to reply – he knew, as well as words could tell him, how she felt. The two sat in silence for minutes drawn out over eternities, their breathing in time, fingers entwined almost inextricably. Then Con sighed, as soft as the breeze through the trees outside, and leant up for a final, fond farewell kiss before she left.

“I love you,” she murmured, and he responded in kind, but there was time for no more. They had the whole week just to relax and spend time together, something she was looking forward to almost as much as she was apprehensive and scared about it, everything else could wait until the morning when neither would be as tired as they were now.

It was as she was slipping through the corridor that she met Len, also furtively coming back from the same direction. It was all that the pair could do not to giggle, but with Margot in mind they managed to control themselves and instead walked in a stately fashion back to their rooms. Con’s room came first, and just before she went in, she turned to her sister and mouthed,

“Saying goodnight?”

Len nodded, and even in the gloom Con knew her well enough to know that for the first time in a long time she was smiling even with her eyes.

Author:  Helen P [ Mon Jul 20, 2009 3:38 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Awwwww, how lovely! :D

Thank you, really enjoying this.

Author:  Abi [ Mon Jul 20, 2009 8:56 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

It's nice to see Con so happy *fuzzy smile*.

Thanks Ariel!

Author:  jmc [ Tue Jul 21, 2009 7:52 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks. Nice to see that Len might be happy now. Glad Joey's not there to see them sneaking round.

Author:  keren [ Tue Jul 21, 2009 10:22 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

jmc wrote:
Thanks. Nice to see that Len might be happy now. Glad Joey's not there to see them sneaking round.

Is that called "they could be trusted"
going to the boys rooms at night hardly dressed?

Author:  JB [ Tue Jul 21, 2009 1:02 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

What a lovely update, Ariel.

Glad Len's smiling again.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Wed Jul 22, 2009 1:04 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Quote:
Is that called "they could be trusted"
going to the boys rooms at night hardly dressed?
I'm sorry if I've offended you. I did think about whether it would be suitable behaviour, but concluded that it would as they don't actually do anything more than cuddle. I'm really sorry!

- X -

The next morning everyone was up bright and early with the promise of a long day. Neither Reg or Albert had been to the Tirol before and all three were keen to show them everything. The last up was Margot, who comfortably declared that she liked bed too much to be running around before the sun had even started to rise, for which she was extremely scorned by Con. That young woman had been up to watch the magnificent sunrise, never needing much sleep, and was already dressed and thinking about breakfast by the time bumps from above told her one sister had dragged the other one awake.

She was rewarded for her efforts by a smile from Albert, who praised her for her eggs. Never one to be noted for her ability to cook, she shied away for a little while, embarrassed by what he had said, but soon enough even she had been drawn out of her shell in order to contribute to the debate going on. The main argument was between the triplets, all of whom wanted to show the two men different things; they sat rather passively, only offering their opinion when they were asked. Eventually, though, Albert managed to silence them all by pointing out that someone would have to go to Spärtz to buy food for the week.

This sparked off a whole new discussion about who the lucky person or people were to be. In the end, looking extremely dignified, Margot announced that she would do so, as the other two would want some time alone with their respective partners; Albert did offer to go with her, but she told him not to be silly. She could carry a little bit of shopping down to the train, and she was sure that he wanted to explore. That taken care of, Len and Con just had to agree on a place to go. The first place that they wanted to show the two men was the site of the original chalet, the debate was which way around the lake it would be better to go.

The plans still weren’t resolved as they collected the dishes together to take to the kitchen and wash. Even as they scrubbed furiously they debated, listing the good and bad points of going each way over and over again (in between suddenly remembering something Margot had to add to the shopping list she was compiling at the table behind them). It was left to the two men to assure them that it looked as if they would be able to walk easily right the way around the lake and thus see everything to be seen there in one day.

Time was precious, as they knew, and from the girls’ excited chatter they could tell how much was going to be crammed in. Privately, as the washing up was done, they had retired to the Salon and agreed that they needed to set some limits. Jack and Joey would be most unhappy if they were returned three washed out specimens of tiredness personified. Besides, this was supposed to be a holiday, particularly for them, given all of the hard work they did usually. It was equally important that they went back fresh, for they knew the burden of their duty all too well.

“We’ll walk past Gaisalm to get to the Chalet and then come back through the other end of the lake,” said Albert firmly, looking them both over with a twinkle in his eye. He was the most placid person to be met, as much as he might act to the contrary, and it was only his training as a doctor which had given him such a firm air. This Con was just beginning to find out; but she could also guess that, like her father, once he had said something he would stick to it.

Finally agreed on what to spend the day doing, there was a rush to pull on coats and gather belongings. They could afford to stop at the Kron Prinz Karl and get lunch, as there was absolutely nothing left from the supply Anna had given them before they left to make it, and they would meet Margot back at the chalet for dinner. She was more than happy to have the day to herself; she knew that she could get lunch in Spärtz and be back early enough in the afternoon to have her own walk around the lake without having to feel left out because her sisters had their own conversations with the men to attend to. Privately she was unhappy about having to share them, still, and she wanted to get them to herself, but she had learnt a sharp lesson that neither of the two would let her get away with that.

Reg, with some idea of the troubles between the three, had watched her wearily at breakfast, but Margot wasn’t minded to have Jack and Joey hearing about any misbehaviour and she especially wasn’t going to give Reg any reason to think she was still a babyish kid who could get jealous. She left first to make sure she caught the steam train which would take her into the valley, while the other four checked that they would have everything they could need.

Fully prepared, right down to a first aid kit tucked snugly into Albert’s backpack, they locked up the chalet and prepared to set off down the path. Len slipped her arm through Reg’s and they led the way, chattering gaily, with Con and Albert following more sedately behind. They were both inclined to be quiet, particularly around each other, and they took in far more of the beauty of the lake than their two companions. It promised to be a thoroughly enjoyable walk.

Author:  JS [ Wed Jul 22, 2009 1:32 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Quote:
Fully prepared, right down to a first aid kit tucked snugly into Albert’s backpack


Does that bode ill, I wonder...

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Thu Jul 23, 2009 3:50 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I do hope Margot gets some time to spend alone with her sisters. It's not like she gets them during her school year in England, whereas Con and Len both do and it's not like she has a male friend to keep her company the way Con and Len do.

Thanks

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Jul 23, 2009 9:37 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

The mountain scenery was lovely and both men had raptures over it. The day was fine, though the weather-wise women both said that it probably wouldn’t stay that way all day, and even if it did a hot day frequently meant a bad thunderstorm later on. They weren’t going to concern themselves with trivialities like that at the present, however, there was far too much else to do. The lake itself was a superb blue, deep and turquoise. Tiny ripples lapped against the shore from the steamer which chugged happily down the middle of the lake towards their eventual destination, Briesau.

On either side rose magnificent mountains, each different from the next. Most of them were named fairly accurately, though they had to pause and debate over one or two names which had eluded them. The two men only laughed and agreed that taking a degree tended to knock other information out of people’s minds. Strolling gently, for they had all day to do the walk and at least another hour and a half before they could reasonably think about stopping for lunch, talk moved fluidly between both couples and then all four.

Tourists were in abundance at this time of year, and frequently they had to stop and step off of the path to let someone pass, but this didn’t trouble their enjoyment; Albert and Reg would take the opportunity to look around properly, and then one would give a delighted cry and ask what this or that was, whether such butterflies were common or if they could swim in this part of the lake. Laughingly they got their answers, the other two starting to reminisce about when they had first come here, and how they had plagued their mother and father with similar questions.

Neither had ever imagined that they would be showing the two people they loved most the lake in this fashion, but whether it was that or just the pure mountain air and the sharp tang from the water, something brought a healthy vitality to both countenances, and secretly both of the doctors thrilled to see them. Len, especially, had come back from university looking pale and wan, and this difference touched Reg deeply. He had been so worried that he had been the cause of her agitation, and had fretted badly over the whole affair, but to see her so happy told him that it wasn’t just him which had been causing it.

For his part, Albert was more than happy just to be around Con, but he could read her well enough to see how contented she was here. Very little had been said to him about her life at home, and she had barely mentioned how her parents felt about him, but he wasn’t a fool and he could tell that one of them, at least, wouldn’t shy away from showing her their disapproval. He heaved a large sigh, for no apparent reason, upset that things were so complicated. He loved her enough to let her go before he made her choose, but he didn’t want to have to. The only hope he had was that this holiday would bring them close, and convince Joey that he was good enough for her daughter.

“What’s the why of that?” asked Con with interest, referring to his hearty sigh. “You nearly blew me into the lake, then.”

“That I would hate to do,” he returned solemnly. “But, if you wander any closer to it, I will have to jump in and fish you out. You were dreaming again, weren’t you?”

He said it with the friendly air of a jovial school master, but Con flushed all of the same. The gentle rebuke had awoken her to her present surroundings, however, rather than her sudden inspiration for one of the arguments she could include in her writing for Annabella and Himerus running away together – not that that was the ending she had decided on, yet. Talk moved on once again, this time to the places of various mishaps both men knew well, a subject which occupied them until the reached the Dripping Rock.

Even with the Maynards' usual capacity for accidents and mishaps the first aid box wasn’t needed, Con nearly walking straight into the lake being the only cause for worry on the walk. All the same, all four were glad to stop for lunch once they reached Briesau, the scrambling across rocks and the soaking they got under the Dripping Rock not making it the easiest walk they’d ever done. Lunch finished and original chalet duly admired from a distance, they turned homewards.

Author:  JS [ Thu Jul 23, 2009 1:20 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Is that a first? A Maynard walk with no disasters??

Author:  PaulineS [ Thu Jul 23, 2009 4:21 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Well it is Joey who is accident/incident prone!

Author:  Abi [ Thu Jul 23, 2009 9:00 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

JS wrote:
Is that a first? A Maynard walk with no disasters??


Possibly we are being lulled into a false sense of security :wink: . Still it's nice to see them all calm and happy! Thanks Ariel.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Fri Jul 24, 2009 10:32 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for all of the lovely comments :D

- X -

The next two days passed in a blur of excitement for the five on holiday. They had returned to find Margot had not only done the shopping but started to cook dinner as well, so that, worn out as they were, they could flop on the chairs and not move for an hour or so. The lake was longer than it had first appeared and both the men were regretting saying that they would walk it, although secretly Con and Len shared amused glances. Sore they might be now, but they knew that they would be feeling a lot better in the morning than the other members of their party.

An early bed was declared for all after a mouth-watering supper of breads and cheeses, which even Margot had managed to produce with some ease, and the five retired well satisfied with their day. The next morning was just as the triplets had known it would be, and they had to tempt Reg and Albert out of bed with the smell of frying bacon, which pervaded the house, mingling with the homely smell of freshly brewed coffee and bread toasted to a golden perfection. Len had insisted that it was her turn to cook and had, accordingly, produced a fine breakfast. Many were the meaning glances cast across the table to Reg, until Albert decided to stop him looking so baffled by voicing aloud the opinions of them all and saying what a lovely wife he would have in Len.

Out of necessity they planned an easy day, to give the two men a chance to recover, though they had declared themselves game for some more sightseeing. Innsbruck was the eventual destination decided on, as it wouldn’t involve too much walking and they could easily stop in one of the old-fashioned cafes which lined the streets if they needed to. However, the combined cost of train fares and having to get presents for everyone there would wipe out most of their meagre funds, and they knew that after this they would largely be stuck around the lake.

Cheerfully they decided to set out anyway, for Innsbruck must be visited at some point, and if they didn’t spend the money now they would just be saving it for when they did go. The day was a great success and certainly worth the amount spent on it, even though it included Reg buying a – very small! – souvenir in the form of a tiny diamond for Len, which he promised could be turned into a charm easily so that she could hang it off a necklace. She blushed deeply when he presented it to her over their mid-afternoon coffee, but the love that filled her eyes as she gazed at him convinced all present that the pair really were meant to be together.

Not that Len was the only one to receive a present from the expedition. Albert had had similar thoughts to his friend, and managed to sneak off at one point, returning with a mysterious brown bag which he refused to show to anyone. He did promise that they would know exactly what was in it in time, and with that they had to be satisfied. They all managed to get small presents for people at home, the triplets dividing the younger children between them, so that Con was left with the headache of trying to find something original for Geoff while Margot bemoaned loudly that there was nothing suitable for Felicity. When deciding what to get Jack and Joey, the two men bought their own gifts as a small token of their thanks to the two for letting them come on such a wonderful holiday (and in Albert’s case also a subtle apology for the decidedly underhand way he had been forced to achieve it). The triplets went into a quiet conference, then pooled their money and came out with a traditional Tirolean hat for their father and a new book that they knew Joey wanted, which they had all agreed to sign.

This left them close to penniless, however, and the next day was spent in doing one of the easier climbs around the lake. The Mondscheinspitze was so far away that it took nearly as much time to walk there as it did to climb it, but it was easy enough and even Reg and Albert weren’t too breathless by the time they reached the top. Doctor side predominant, Albert insisted on buying them all mugs of rich, creamy milk from the herdsman who made their home on the alm during the summer months, before they all retired back down again.

Even though they had done nothing out of the ordinary that day, Con would forever remember it; that evening, as he had been able to muster up enough energy after their mountain expedition, Albert took her for a walk around the lake. The sun didn’t set until late that high up, and they were gone for at least two hours, refusing to discuss what they had been talking about when they did return. The other three had been involved in some rowdy card games, but these were dropped as they thronged around Con, demanding to know why she looked so happy. She shook her head and refused to say, for Albert had been sharing a little of his history with her during that important walk.

Curling up in bed that night, she reflected on everything that she had learnt about him. More than ever she was in love with him, and now she knew so much more about him it didn’t seem silly, either. Before she had scolded herself for thinking such things about a relative stranger, but nothing she had learnt so far convinced her to change her mind. Albert understood her, and when they had walked along, holding hands, there was a feeling of contentment different to anything she had felt before. Slowly she drifted into sleep, dreaming small dreams of the man who had stolen her heart; no more than anyone else could she see the trouble skulking, ready to pounce on the morrow.

Author:  PaulineS [ Fri Jul 24, 2009 2:28 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Ariel!!!! You are starting to like cliffs as much as Lesley. Thanks for the regular updates.

Author:  shazwales [ Fri Jul 24, 2009 5:21 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the update Ariel. looking forward to the next one,soon? you couldn't be that cruel to poor cbb'rs could you?

Author:  jmc [ Fri Jul 24, 2009 10:31 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Don't leave us hanging too long.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sat Jul 25, 2009 3:02 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Ariel!!!! You can't leave it there! Thanks for the updates :D

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sat Jul 25, 2009 10:17 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

:devil: I do apologise for keeping anyone on the edge of a cliff.

- X -

Money matters being what they were, all five had known before they got up that morning that the day would be dedicated to a walk. As they had largely been told what they were doing before now, today the two men were given the opportunity to choose what they wanted to see. After some debate among themselves as breakfast was cooked, Albert asked if it would be possible to see the original site of the Sonnalpe. Both had heard about the history of the famous establishment where they were privileged enough to work, and both were keen to take this opportunity to see its humble roots.

The three girls glanced at each other. They could see how keen their guests were, and it was a walk that they themselves enjoyed, but the weather was uncertain. Clouds hung low around the mountains, giving them fluffy beards, and there was every chance of rain later on. However, it could also be that the clouds would clear and bright sunshine would envelop them. This they explained in hesitant terms, for while they were well versed in the different weathers in the mountains, they weren’t nearly as omniscient as Joey when it came to such matters.

Not without a little reluctance, they eventually agreed to do part of the walk, at least. There was an alm about halfway up which they could stop at and then turn around if the weather was still uncertain, and as long as they all brought waterproofs it should, hopefully, mean nothing more than hot baths even if they did get caught in the rain. Having been consulted and given their opinion on the matter they sat back, waiting to see what the other two would think. After wondering aloud if it would be better to wait for good weather and do the whole walk, but failing to come up with an alternative for the day, they settled for the compromise in the end.

A routine was starting to develop now; Reg and Albert would oversee the packing of the rucksacks to make sure they had everything they could conceivably need, while Con and Len made a packed lunch and Margot dealt with the breakfast dishes. Today, despite the teasing from the three experienced young mountaineers who promised that on such an easy walk half the things they put in wouldn’t be needed, Reg and Albert had packed not only the standard first aid kit, but a rope, map, compass and a whistle which Reg insisted defensively might well be needed.

This last he was questioned intently on as they walked along the lake path, although even he couldn’t think of a situation in which they could possibly need it. In the end he growled that they’d be happy enough to have it if they needed it, and he’d promised Jack he’d look after them. One never knew what might be needed among the mountains. Soberly an assent to this foreboding statement was given, although the three couldn’t keep straight faces for long and were soon laughing again. Albert, knowing how touchy his friend could be, contrived to steer Con behind the rest so that they could discuss a book they had both read and enjoyed, while Len and Margot followed Reg’s lead a little more meekly, once they had seen the black scowl he was now sporting.

The ascent was enough to silence them for a time, at least. The path was easy enough to navigate, but steep, and all of them were breathless by the time they stopped for their first rest and a drink. The two doctors were each carrying a large bottle of water which they shared with Con and Len, while Margot had brought her own. So far she had been remarkably tactful, for Margot, staying back when she could tell that they wanted time by themselves but still managing to get enough time with her sisters to make even her happy. She often thought with shame of the way that she had behaved on more than one occasion towards them, and she knew she would never forgive herself if she ruined their hopes of happiness with her selfishness. Such thoughts had, so far, contrived to keep her in check.

Toilsome as the road was, it presented little difficulties, especially to those as accustomed to the mountains as the five. Both Reg and Albert had been complete novices to mountain climbing and walking when they’d moved to the Sanatorium, but years there had taught them everything they would need to know for easy tasks such as this, and they didn’t even need to be reminded to bend their knees on every step and save their shins. Only once did they have to stop, and that was when they encountered a large boulder in the middle of the path. It blocked the path completely, and with two large trees inconveniently placed to stop them from walking around it with any great ease, the best option seemed to be to climb over it.

An argument in a rapid undertone resulted in Reg going first, carefully supported by Albert for as far as they could both stretch. Morning dew still sat on top of the rock, giving it a slick edge, and his descent over the other side and back to the solid, pine-needle strewn floor was less than dignified. One second he was balanced precariously, having just let go of Albert’s hand, evidently feeling tentatively around with his foot for his next step. The next he had given a wild yell and disappeared altogether. Collectively breath was held, until a muffled reassurance came to tell them that he was all right, shortly before he stood up again, brushing himself down and complaining about a spider which he was sure had got down his neck.

The triplets were all passed over without incident, Albert supporting them to the top of the rock and Reg lifting them down the other side. Lastly came the second doctor, who scrambled up one side easily enough and, warned by his friend’s mishap, simply jumped off of the top, landing in the same manner as an agile cat. There was the shortest pause for them to regain their breath and splash their hands with a little of the drinking water before they set off again, none the worse for the incident. All the same, they did wonder aloud how they would manage coming back down again, for it was sheer luck only which had stopped Reg twisting his ankle.

Leaving that boulder to be climbed when they got to it, they drudged upwards still, occasionally getting glimpses of the lake from between the trees but often locked in their own world. Voices echoed through the forest and more than once a bird flying overhead made them all jump, for they truly felt alone on the mountainside. The solitude was lovely, and the murmured voices lulled them all into a steady pace, which they kept for some time without breaking. Soon enough, Con the impressionable drifted off, back to her struggle for an ending she could justify. By now everything had become a circular argument in her head, and she was just nearing a breakthrough when a shout from Margot announced that they had reached the alm.

Author:  jmc [ Sat Jul 25, 2009 11:49 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Ok they got to the alm but will they easily get down again and hopefully the weather will be OK. Thanks Ariel

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sat Jul 25, 2009 12:31 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel for coming back with an update so quickly :D

Author:  shazwales [ Sat Jul 25, 2009 2:40 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel, looking forward with some trepidation as to what happens next :?: :?:

Author:  Abi [ Sat Jul 25, 2009 10:48 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Why do I suspect that this is still a cliff, subtle yet steep?

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Jul 26, 2009 6:10 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Sorry for the delay, unfortunately I had to go to work. I'd far rather have been writing the update!

- X -

It was lovely to be able to sit on the sweet, springy grass, drinking in the pure mountain air and looking down at the tiny lake below, the hamlets cast by a giant’s hand. Len and Margot were more concerned with retrieving lunch from the bottom of their rucksacks, but Reg stood and drank in the view eagerly. As he had declared the night before, nowhere was quite like the Tiernsee. Sat slightly apart from the rest, Con cuddled up to Albert, both of them silent. It felt almost as if neither had to say a word to make their feelings known.

Slowly they regained enough breath to start digging around for lunch, buried under mounds of other things that they’d brought. Con blushed as she withdrew a notebook and pen, wilting especially under the knowing smile that was directed at her, but she got her revenge when Albert sheepishly took out a bright pink jumper.

“My Gran likes to knit me things like that for Christmas!” he protested. “It’s the warmest one I have, so I decided to bring it in case it rained.”

“Well, I’m working on my writing,” she retorted, biting into her turkey sandwich. Albert eyed his apple with an interested eye, making sure that it was clean, before he started to eat it. “I still haven’t decided on my ending, and I promised to have it sent off in four days at the very latest.”

“My brother won’t mind it being a little bit late,” promised Albert, eyes still scanning the horizon, and the snowy peaks which stretched out seemingly unendingly. “He’s probably forgotten the deadline altogether, if he’s still as scatter-brained as he was last time I saw him. As long as you can get it to him by the end of the month he won’t notice, really. And he probably wouldn’t mind, anyway; he’d just be relieved to meet someone as unreliable as himself.”

“All the same, it would be polite to send it when I promised. I just wish that I could think of a decent ending and write it!”

Con stopped, breathless. Firmly she had refused to show Albert her work; she was too scared of what he might read into it to let him come anywhere near it. All the same, she suddenly wondered if perhaps she could confide in him, ask him what he thought should happen. Sometimes, writing was a lonely business, when the characters deserted you and there was nobody to help you decide what should happen. In a way, Con had always needed a friend, someone who would be there when she needed them and not ask awkward questions when she didn’t; but, before now, she had never been selfish enough to ask for that sort of commitment from someone.

With Albert it was different, though. The mentions he had made of her future career had convinced her that he knew, even if he didn’t understand, what being around a writer meant, and in any case she could never mind time in his company. If anything she craved it, and she knew without needing to think that if she’d just sat down to start writing and he asked for her, she’d go instantly. And she could know that because he would never call her away if he knew that it she was doing something so important.

“You’ll do fine,” he promised, kissing the top of her head softly. “You’ll have a moment where inspiration will just come, and suddenly you’ll know everything that has to happen.”

Nothing more was said on the subject, as their attention was called to lowering thick, black clouds which had crept up unexpectedly while they were eating. Reg had been drawn into an argument with his future sister-in-law, and Con and Albert had been too engaged in one another for anyone to notice something as small as the weather. Even the two inexperienced men could tell that those clouds meant certain rain, however, and heavy rain at that.

There was a scramble to gather everything together and, Albert still munching on a banana, they began to descend again, hoping fervently that they could be quick enough to escape a real soaking. The path was mostly sheltered, but there would be points when it could be treacherously slippery if wet, and there was still the boulder to navigate, for there would be no chance of any of the men getting up and moving it in the short time since they’d found it. The gay chatter still largely continued, for even if they did get caught, there was little they could do about it now and it was only rain; they were sensible enough to keep their heads.

Unfortunately, the rain was ineluctable, and before ten minutes had passed they were drenched. Worse was to come; the clouds were now so low that they were blocking the light, and very little filtered through the pines which clung to the mountainside. The path was bendy enough, but when Margot started to fall behind, worn out from the mad dash, Reg forced them all to stop and link arms. Losing someone would not enhance the situation in the slightest.

He led, linked to Len, with Margot in the middle and Con and Albert bringing up the rear. For a little while this worked fine, and if progress was slower than before it was also safer. By now the rain – large, almost painful drops which were loud enough to stop any of them being heard properly – was penetrating even the canopy of the sturdy trees, and the path was becoming worse and worse. More than once one of them nearly slid, gripping their partner’s hands with startling strong holds. The shrieks that they managed to raise echoed through the mountain, even in the midst of the rain storm.

After a while Reg called a stop. Their progress was so slow now, and they were all so wet, that he had decided the best thing to do would be to try and find a way to get down together that would save as much energy as possible. He was breathless, having had the strain of feeling out the best route as well as the dead weight of Margot, who was nearly worn out completely. He and Albert shouted to each other over the rain and decided on a plan of action which, for years afterwards, none of the five would be able to think of without a shudder.

Albert agreed to lead for a while, to give Reg a break from that at least, and he and Con would stay joined together. Then at least if the two groups got separated they wouldn’t be alone. The two of them had been considerably surer on their feet than Len and Margot, and common sense told both doctors – who were, by this time, fearing a crop of colds all around, for the day wasn’t exactly warm – that it would be best for someone to get back first and start to prepare everything which would be needed when the rest of the party made it.

All three girls were pale-faced by this time, but Reg valiantly agreed to keep Len and Margot with him. Albert hesitated, wanting to help, but was assured – in a very loud voice – one last time that he would be far more use getting back and being ready to help them all out of wet clothes and into warm baths if he did get back more quickly. If he didn't, it would make little difference. Reluctantly he agreed, although afterwards he couldn’t quite forgive himself for not arguing the case further.

For nearly five minutes they managed to get on, and were about halfway back when it happened. Mindful of the weather conditions and the need to get home, Albert and Con had speeded up their pace a little, and drawn just enough ahead of the other three to lose them from sight most of the time. Here the path was at its most difficult, but neither slowed, which proved to be their downfall. Just as the path opened out onto a sheer drop for at least ten foot, with the descent after that broken only by pine trunks heavy enough to crush anyone who crashed into them, Con felt her feet give out under her. She disappeared over the edge with a cry that outdid anything produced in that line so far.

Author:  Lottie [ Sun Jul 26, 2009 6:59 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I hope you're not going to leave us dangling here for too long, Ariel! It's far too dangerous! :roll:

Thanks, I think, for the update. :)

Author:  shazwales [ Sun Jul 26, 2009 7:08 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Ariel thanks for the update!

More soon please i suffer from virtigo :shock:

Author:  JS [ Mon Jul 27, 2009 8:22 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm presuming there will be an update today? Soon? (she says with a stern, yet hopeful face)

Author:  jmc [ Mon Jul 27, 2009 12:51 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Please come back and save Con

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Jul 27, 2009 5:56 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Ok, apparently I'm not as tired as I thought, and I can muster up a small update. Hope this helps with the vertigo!

- X -

For a few seconds her life flashed before her eyes. Then, suddenly, pain blossomed out from her shoulder, spreading up her arm and to her fingers. Eventually, she breathed deeply enough that she could realise she had stopped falling. She could feel something against her hand, squeezing it so tightly that it was rapidly going numb; that was all she could feel, apart from the blankness of thin air around her.

Very slowly, almost not daring to hope that this wasn’t just a bizarre dream as she lay unconscious at the foot of a sturdy tree, she looked up. As they were walking she and Albert had been holding hands, so that if one of them slipped they would be caught. Naturally, nobody had imagined a fall of this magnitude. When she felt her foot slip, far from letting go, Con had gripped tighter, and this proved to be what had saved her – so far.

Above her, dangling precariously over the edge, was Albert.

How he had stopped himself from being dragged with her was a complete mystery at the moment, although afterwards the best guess was that his weight was such as to anchor them. At the present, all that stood between Con and, if not an early grave then, at the least, certain paralysis from a crushed spine and fractured skull was the tiny outcrop of rock his free hand was gripping. It was only a miniscule projection, and the rain had made the rock slick, but he had found a purchase and was hanging on grimly. To the horrified Con it seemed as if he must surely slip at any moment, and then, if he didn’t let her go of her, they would both plummet the cruel drop.

She began to pray, harder than she ever had before, that if they couldn’t be saved Albert might at least land on top of her and not be badly injured by her folly. She didn’t dare to look at him, but never before had she been so grateful that he felt the same way she did. Anybody else must surely have let go, by now, to try and save themselves. The only thing giving him the strength to keep supporting her weight while looking down into the abyss of life must be his love for her, and his determination to save her. Sobs caught at the back of her throat, and she wanted to beg him to let go, to save himself, to stop being so foolish and heroic.

It was the greatest effort of her life to pull herself together. Having hysterics would help no-one, and help must come soon, surely, the other three were only just up the path from them. But the rain continued to pound at the two defenceless bodies, cold and cruel, as nature threw everything she had at them. Thunder pealed across the mountains as lightning split the sky, and Con shuddered again. She could see Albert’s fingers slipping off of the rock, their only link to the world above them, the world of safety, and her own were too wet to hold his properly. She began to fear that she must let go, she couldn’t possibly hold on longer when her arm ached so much, and her shoulder couldn’t have hurt more if a thousand burning spears were thrust into it.

The rational part of her mind began to urge her to let the inevitable happen, to simply slide away from him, so that he could escape unscathed. After all, pain could only torture so much; the knowledge she had destroyed him, had hurt him too, cut deep into her heart. If she loved him, she would let him go, she would slip away to another place where there was no rain, no thunder, just a blissful calm. Tears mingled with the rain streaming down her face, and she increased her prayers to try and block out the voice in her mind, insidiously tempting her on. If she could just hold on, and if his strength just held out, they would both escape.

Trusting him was her only option, but Albert wasn’t superhuman, and he let out a second yell as he felt his fingers slowly betraying him. He was more than half over the edge, only sheer determination had kept them both from their horrific fate so far, and the rain was gradually wearing that away, leaving him stranded and alone on the side of a mountain, clutching at the woman he loved more than anything else in this world, so sure he must fail her. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t let her go, even if he had to follow her, and somehow cushion her, whatever he had to do to make her safe again, he would. He tried to shout to her, to say something, but time was running out now, tiny stones were falling from where his fingers scrambled desperately, and at the last possible second he looked deep into her eyes. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw.

Author:  Lottie [ Mon Jul 27, 2009 6:40 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I thought you were supposed to be posting to put us out of our misery and stop us worrying about Con and Albert! :roll: If so, you haven't succeeded. :x

Author:  PaulineS [ Mon Jul 27, 2009 7:25 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Arial!!! We want the cliff sorted not made worse. Please come back and rescue them quickly.

Author:  JB [ Mon Jul 27, 2009 8:12 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Ariel, where have you gone? How could you leave us on this cliff, an actual cliff??

:evil: :evil: :evil:

Author:  shazwales [ Mon Jul 27, 2009 8:41 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Ariel ,help since update virtigo has got worse!! you can't leave them like that! thats cruelty to us :bawling:

Author:  Abi [ Mon Jul 27, 2009 8:50 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I knew it was a cliff - though I didn't expect it to be quite so literally a cliff.

*offers rope - think Ariel might have forgotten to put the rescuing part in* :P

Author:  JS [ Tue Jul 28, 2009 9:28 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

You're being very naughty here - but I'm sure you'll come back soon (looks stern again).

Author:  gwynne [ Tue Jul 28, 2009 10:10 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

please, please don't leave us dangling like this for long.....

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Jul 28, 2009 5:54 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Oh no, don't look stern! Please! I hope that this stops you dangling at last (I intended for this to happen in the last update, but my imagination decided to be evil and make you all wait). This isn't brilliant, I do apologise. I can't write action scenes!

- X -

It was just as his fingers slid off of the mountain face altogether and into the void below that a strong grip held him, and a familiar voice said something indistinguishable in his ear. If he could have sagged in relief, he would have at that moment, but any lapse in concentration would have automatically entailed Con being hurled to shatter against the trees below. In lieu of such an exaggerated reaction, he sent up a silent thanks for Reg’s timely arrival.

He, at least, was safe for the moment. Reg had a good grounding, kneeling securely over him and holding on to his upper arms with such ferocity that Albert was bruised afterwards. Behind him came Len and Margot, eager to help, for all three had heard Con’s yell and – as they were running to see what the matter was (as much as the sliding they had been forced to employ on the soaked ground could be described as running) – Albert’s continuation of that, which had sent spears of dread into their hearts.

Neither of the two even needed to ask what to do. They weren’t brave enough to look over the edge and see their triplet dangling limply there, her life in their hands, but Len very carefully opened Reg’s rucksack. She started to throw out miscellaneous items, nearly braining Margot with his lunchbox in the process, until she found the coil of rope at the bottom. Reg, his load considerably lightened by Len’s random disposal of items in her way, gritted his teeth and prepared to cling on.

He had guessed almost instantly what she was intending to do, and while it was the safest thing in the circumstances, it was considerably unpleasant for those involved. Looking more like a tangle of bodies, writhing on the floor, than the respected children of a doctor and their companions, the two somehow managed to manouevre themselves around Albert’s prostrate form, as he held on to Con with an effort even he didn’t think he could make, so that Len could lean over the edge.

Years of guiding had, thankfully, drilled into her various types of knots, if it had done nothing else. Carefully looping the rope around the top of Albert’s arm, she tied it in a loose knot and, breath held, very slowly slipped it down until it was circling Con’s wrist. This delicate operation completed, she tugged the rope with such relief that not only did she secure the knot, she cut off most blood supply to Con’s hand, and gashed deep into her arm. There was nothing to be done about it at the present, however, and blushing at her own carelessness, Len wriggled backwards.

It was now, having tidied Reg’s items into something resembling a neat pile, that Margot came forwards. Firstly, she took the end of the rope from Len and circled it around the trunk of a nearby sapling, giving it an experimental pull to make sure it was safe enough. Then she lay on the ground and hugged Len as if she meant to crush her, eliciting wild yells from that young lady. Incidentally, afterwards Anna was heard to bemoan loudly that their clothes would never be wearable again, even as rags, and they could have tried to be more careful.

Presently, it was the last consideration on their minds. Con seemed to be secure, for the time being, though Reg knew that the two young girls couldn’t be expected to hold such a weight for long, and he had no desire to add further casualties to the situation. His first concern had to be his colleague, for he needed Albert next to him to help tug Con up, and at the present they couldn’t attempt anything of the kind without upsetting both.

The rain had numbed all of them, now, though Con was worst by a long way, and Albert’s fingers were actually turning blue. When Reg first told him to let go he didn’t know even if he could, it seemed as if he and Con had become inseparable. And had he mustered up the energy to bring life back to those deadened muscles, he had no inclination to do so. All thought had left him but that he must keep Con safe, that he couldn’t let her go. Just before Reg arrived, he had seen a look in her eyes, pleading him not to let go, not to sacrifice her now. She was terrified, convinced she was beyond saving, and he was her only hope.

“Come on,” said Reg desperately. “You have to let go, we can’t save her until you do. Look, I’m going to pull you up, and then we can both grab hold of the rope and heave, and we’ll get her up, you’ll see. Trust me, Albert. You have before, you know you can. Please, trust me.”

Nobody ever knew if Albert actually responded to these pleas or if he just couldn’t hold on any longer, the rain and the dead weight being too much for him. In either case, his fingers slid away, so that Con was attached precariously only by a thin, snaking rope led on by two far from hefty young women. Fortunately Reg had prepared himself, and he caught Albert’s bulk as it slumped forwards, pulling him up and then crawling backwards on his knee.

In a comparatively short space of time both men were safely on solid ground, Albert clutching at his arm, his face pale but his mouth set. All four of the company now safe sent up a wordless prayer of thanks for this, but the ordeal was far from over. Without even stopping to check that Albert hadn’t been badly injured in it all, Reg joined Len and Margot on the ground, surveying the situation critically.

“You need to hand me the rope. Albert and I can take the rope better than you, and we have more strength to pull.”

“No,” said Len desperately. She could just see the limp form, swaying slightly, on the end of her makeshift line, and if it hadn’t been that Con needed her so badly she would have been sick with fear. “He’s probably all in with holding her. Margot and I can help you tug, between us we can do it.”

There was no time to argue. The sapling gave an unearthly groan and tipped slightly more forwards, one side of trunk starting to split. Reg gave a yell and ordered them both back, having taken the rope from Len’s nerveless hands. The two women shuffled backwards enough to let him step in front of them, and then, all blocking from their minds what failure could mean, they pulled on Reg’s word.

For a second nothing happened, and they were all convinced that they wouldn’t have the power to get Con over the top, but then the rope tautened considerably, and they began the arduous effort of getting her back up. A new fear prowled around them all as the rope began to fray, in more than one place, but just before it could give out a brown, tousled head appeared over the edge.

A breath later and Con lay on the floor at their feet, grey, limp, and to all appearances dead.

Author:  shazwales [ Tue Jul 28, 2009 6:27 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou this is brilliant,but do you have to keep leaving us on 'cliffs' :shock:

Author:  gwynne [ Tue Jul 28, 2009 6:56 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

despite your concerns this is fabulous....but I hate to point out that the situation is far from resolved.....

Author:  PaulineS [ Tue Jul 28, 2009 7:29 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel. Hope they included the brandy or snapps as well as the rope.

Author:  Alison H [ Tue Jul 28, 2009 9:24 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Nice to see Reg being a hero for once! Hope Con is OK.

(Will someone please tell me that I'm not the only person childish/rude/pathetic enough to have giggled at the thought of Margot nearly being brained by Reg's lunchbox? Sorry ChubbyMonkey - I've just got a mind like a sewer sometimes :oops: :lol: .)

Author:  Abi [ Tue Jul 28, 2009 10:32 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I really think you need to kick this cliff addicion, Ariel!

Author:  JS [ Wed Jul 29, 2009 9:50 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Well Alison, the thought didn't cross my mind until you pointed it out. Then I snorted :lol: .

Thanks Ariel - I'll stop looking stern now as at least you've pulled her up off the cliff edge.

Author:  jmc [ Wed Jul 29, 2009 9:57 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Ahhh! Another cliff. Thanks (I think) Ariel.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Wed Jul 29, 2009 6:36 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm ashamed to admit that I had exactly the same thought typing it, Alison, so please don't apologise! Thankyou for all of your comments, I didn't mean to leave you on a cliff! I thought that would satisfy all of your worries. Hopefully this update really will.

- X -

After a few seconds she stirred, and then lifted her head blearily. Gently aided by Len she slowly sat up, ghostly pale but alive. Reactions were mixed as she gazed around them all, as if she didn’t recognise them. Margot, self-possessed Margot, had to fight to hold back tears, while Len had given up any pretence and was crying unashamedly; Reg was already re-packing his things, leaving out anything he thought he might need to tend to Con, once she was awake enough for a brief examination; Albert simply held open his arms.

Not pausing for a moment, Con crawled into them with a gentle sob. Both people hurt in a way neither thought possible, the very fibres of their soul in agony. But they set the pain aside to sit together, amongst the wet mud on the mountainside, lightning and thunder pealing around them, and rain battering them mercilessly. None of it mattered. They barely even registered their surroundings, just lost in each other.

The calm was shattered by Reg coming over. He had given one bottle of water to Len, and dug out the other from Albert’s rucksack, which had been unceremoniously cast to one side once he was safely up. This he insisted on Con doing before anything else, the worst thing she could do now would be to lose consciousness. Getting her down was going to be difficult enough without that added complication. There was little he could do up there, with only a small first aid box to hand, but while Albert held her still, he washed out a nasty gash on her leg from where she had been pulled up and the cut right the way around her wrist. Bandaging these, he turned to other matters.

Judging from Albert’s face he was in no state to help get Con down, though he looked determined to try, and Reg didn’t know if he had the heart to argue it out. Besides, Len and Margot would have difficulty enough getting themselves down unaided, there was almost certainly going to be another accident if they had to help their sister too. But there was no question, carry her they must; when he had rolled up her trousers to tend to her leg, he had seen the swelling already coming up on her knee; sadly, speed had been forefront of their minds, though he wished they could have avoided swinging her into the rocky outcrop.

What was done was done, though. They couldn’t all shelter here to wait for the rain to abate, he still had vague hopes that they could escape without colds as they were relatively well wrapped up, which meant getting back down. How was a mystery he couldn’t solve yet; but he was the head of the group now. In the end, desperately, he decided to trust it to fate. He and Albert would have to carry her between them, and if that got too much Len and Margot could help as well, and just do their best. He laid out his plans as plainly as he could, even while Len and Margot picked up not just their own rucksacks but the ones belonging to the two men, as well. Reg took Con’s from her and shouldered it, before helping her into a standing position.

As soon as any weight was put on her knee she cried out and fell against him, fighting off the waves of unconsciousness which threatened to overwhelm her at any moment. But Reg had her firmly in his grip now, and he held her tight as Albert got up. Little did he look fit to get himself down the mountain, let alone Con’s dead weight as well, but he gritted his teeth and coaxed her to put one arm around his shoulders. Between them, he and Reg lifted her into a kind of Queen’s chair, supporting her legs with their arms while she held on to their shoulders. It wasn’t the most practical of solutions, and Albert had to fight back tears as his wrenched muscles took their share of the burden, but Reg was supporting her as much as he could, and it was the only thing to be done.

None of them would ever describe that journey back, even to Jack when he asked. There was an eerie feel to the pines now that the rain cascaded across the ground and the thunder storm raged overhead. More scary were the tiny groans Con emitted each time one of the men stumbled on the uneven ground. Her head was lolling against Reg, and her eyes were shut with pain, but bravely she fought back the urge to scream. Albert must feel just as bad as her, if not more so, for he was having to walk too, and even Reg was starting to look tired.

At length they gained the rock across the path and were forced to stop. Resisting the urge to join his friend in slumping against it, Reg helped to lower Con gently into Albert’s lap, where they both sat, faint, and eyed it assessingly. The problem was solved by Len, who ducked around him and started to climb over it; she reached the top unscathed, and called over a fresh burst of thunder for Margot to pass her the rucksacks. These she dropped over the edge, and thankfully they contained nothing breakable, before disappearing herself. By the time Reg had started to protest, Margot was up as well, but instead of dropping down the other side, she planted herself firmly.

“I’ll help Con and Albert over,” she said simply, and from her position she refused to budge. Len, the stronger of the two, was below waiting to catch them, and Reg could do the donkey work in, quite frankly, lifting them up, she would simply guide them over the easiest stage. “No point arguing,” she added unnecessarily. “Len and I discussed it before we arrived. Anyway, it’s a bit late to order us back now.”

As the decision seemed to have been made for him, Reg could do nothing but help Con into a standing position. She was too sleepy to even appreciate the magnality of the situation, and didn’t protest as Reg swung her into his arms. It was an awkward task, but somehow he got her securely rested on the rock, high enough up that Margot could take her weight. That young lady, without the medical training in how to be careful with a limp body, treated Con as if, as she later complained, she were a sack of potatoes, but it roused her enough for protest. Not for long, however, and by the time Reg had got Albert ready for his climb, she was safely on the other side, once more leaning drunkenly against the rock.

After her, Albert seemed easy, and Reg was self-sufficient. Margot complained of having been made achy, though it was a token protest given what the other three were suffering, and Len added that her arms felt stretched beyond belief. The two men were taking their discomfort stoically, and Con had once more fallen into her sleepy state, so she didn’t notice them gain the road around the lake. The others breathed a sigh of relief to see the waters, stormy and grey, with waves lapping at the side of the blissfully straight, level path. They met no-one on their half walk, half stumble back to the chalet, but it wasn’t far, and compared to their sufferings on the mountain it was easy.

It was Len who produced the key and let them all tumble in to the warm, dry chalet, that secretly none of them had dared hope they would see again. Within a second bustle would take over, and everyone would rush off to try and sort the situation, but for just a moment as the front door shut out the sounds of the raging storm, they all stopped completely, sending up a silent, communal prayer as thanks for their safe delivery.

Author:  Lottie [ Wed Jul 29, 2009 6:46 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I can relax now - they're all safely home again. Thanks, Ariel!

Author:  JB [ Wed Jul 29, 2009 8:14 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Phew. I'm so glad you updated this today, Ariel.

Author:  Alison H [ Wed Jul 29, 2009 8:17 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Glad they're all back in one piece. Reg did really well there, and so did Margot.

Author:  shazwales [ Thu Jul 30, 2009 8:37 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Than Ariel you did have me rather worried there.

Author:  JS [ Thu Jul 30, 2009 8:54 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Hot baths all round - thanks Ariel.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Thu Jul 30, 2009 9:24 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I am relieved that everyone is alright and thanks for making Reg and Albert a hero. In fact all of them were! Hope there aren't any nasty repercussions from it all and thanks for getting them all back safely.

(Joey is going to have to love Albert now!)

Author:  Abi [ Thu Jul 30, 2009 9:44 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Well, I'm glad they're all safe! Hope nothing else happens!

Thanks Ariel.

Author:  hac61 [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 10:33 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm just afraid that Joey is going to blame Albert for them going out in the first place!

Along the lines of "Well, if you hadn't have wanted to go and see the old San in the first place then none of this would have happened."

It wouldn't be Reg's fault as well, that would never do for the person she's selected to marry her firstborn.


hac

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 2:31 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for all of the comments :D

- X -

The bustle once they all realised that they really were safe was immense. Margot was the first to regain her sense and dance upstairs in search of a hot bath and fresh clothes, leaving a trail of wet mud behind her on the polished floor which made Len cry out in horror. However, there was no time for cleaning; already Albert had taken Con into his arms and was leading her towards the stairs, ignoring the dull ache from his arm. She was still in a stupor from the cold, and he was scared of the consequences if he didn’t get her warm immediately.

Tossing caution to the winds, Len followed them, insisting on helping, leaving Reg to trail after them. He thought that there was going to be a stand-up argument when he tried to make Albert leave this to him and Len, but in the end he gave in and let the other doctor have his way. He left them to sort out his own ablutions, having elicited a promise that as soon as Con had been bathed Albert would see to himself and let his friend do the doctoring. All five were as wet as each other, the triplets with badly tangled hair sticking to their back, and the two men with sundry stains adorning their clothes as well.

Meanwhile, Len had managed to remove Con’s wet layers and was running a hot, deep bath for her. While she waited, she held her sister close, trying not to think of everything she could have lost if things had been any different. But Con wasn’t the only person on her mind; when she thought of Reg, and the number of times he had risked himself getting the limp body back down, she shuddered. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing either of them. If only she’d insisted on staying around the lake today, of not doing something so foolish with the risk of a thunderstorm, this was all her fault, and if anything had happened she could never have forgiven herself.

Her recriminations were cut short by Albert reappearing to turn the water off. Even in his haggard, painful condition, he looked every inch the doctor, and suddenly Len began to appreciate just how comforting a presence he was to have around when you were in need. Thankfully he was able to help her by removing the bandages around Con's wrist and knee – which Reg had seen fight to tie extremely tightly – although he was of little use when it came to getting her into the bath. It seemed to her frightened sister that Con still wasn’t conscious of her surroundings, but this illusion was shattered moments after they’d lowered her into the hot tub, as she let out a howl of pain.

Slowly, blood seeped out of the ragged wound on her leg, staining the water around her. It was a deep cut, and bruises were beginning to form around it already, how she had been so stoical on the bumpy journey back down was beyond them all, even her. The shock had certainly woken her up, though, and she suddenly gazed at them with a puzzled air, as if to ask what they were doing watching her in the bath. A more emotional girl than Len might have let out a sob of relief and given way to the tears wanting to escape, but she contrived to hold on to herself, and began to sponge Con’s back as gently as she could, moving around the injured shoulder.

Next she washed Con’s long hair, her soothing fingers removing all of the knots without hurting Con once, and once she’d finished shampooing it, she piled it neatly on top of the once more clean head and wrapped a towel softly around it. Albert had brought in Con’s favourite pyjamas – though he wasn’t to know this – and her dressing gown, and between them they got her out of the bath and into them. She was shivering fitfully, though her hands felt warm enough when Albert grasped them. He wanted to stay with her, but mindful of his promise to Reg he called for the other man. Then, with a reassurance from Len that she would get straight into the warm water and sort herself out, he went off to try and bathe himself without doing any more damage to his injured arm.

Meanwhile, Reg helped Con to limp to her bedroom where he got her well settled and departed to seek a strong, hot coffee and a hot water bottle. He found Margot in the kitchen just pouring some coffee out, a towel still wrapped around her hair and only in her dressing gown, for which she was well scolded. He knew from Jack just how delicate she had once been, and Reg had no desire to return two of his three charges ill, so with some caustic comments about her common sense he sent her upstairs to change into the warmest things she could find and stay there until he could come and check her over.

He departed with the things he had come to get, tucking the hot water bottle behind Con for the moment and handing her the coffee. She sipped it gratefully while he looked at her knee again. It was still weeping slightly, but that was the least of his concerns; it was a nasty cut, and he wondered if it shouldn’t need stitches. But here such a thing was an impossibility, at least until Con was more comfortable moving, and so, against his better judgement, he simply dabbed it with iodine – which made Con cry all over again – and re-bandaged it.

Once she had finished the drink, he did the same by her wrist, which was more a case of bad rope burn than anything more major. Fortunately, Jack, with an all too good knowledge of his family’s ability to embroil themselves in disaster, had made sure there was as well stocked first aid box as any good doctor could ask in the chalet, and Reg was even able to find a sling for her shoulder. He told her that she needn’t wear it now, as she was on the verge of sleep, but that in the morning she would be wisest to put it on. She acquiesced, merely asking that she might remove her dressing gown as she was too hot with the hot water bottle too, and then lay down obediently.

Albert had been watching from the doorway, and now that Reg was finished with her, he came forwards. He knew he could trust his friend to make sure the other two girls were ok, and he himself would survive for the moment, but Con might need him – or she might be angry. There would be a time for talking later, though, now he simply sat beside her and held her hand until she was properly asleep. He watched her dark eyelashes fluttering against her pale cheeks and breathed a sigh of relief; the ordeal might not be over yet, he didn’t know if it had just begun, but whatever Con might feel, she was safe and – relatively speaking – well. That was all that mattered.

Author:  Alison H [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 2:35 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Len and Reg both handled that well - although trust Len to get upset about the mess on the floor!

If Joey makes a fuss when she finds out what happened - and they might be better not telling her - I hope they'll remind her of all the times she nearly got herself killed at the Tiernsee.

Author:  JB [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 2:45 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

:banghead: Len worrying about the mess and feeling it's all her responsibility. I'd like to feel Reg could help her with this.

Thanks for the update, Ariel.

Author:  JS [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 2:50 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

But, but, but, that must mean that Albert has seen Con naked :shock:
They'll have to get married now....

Author:  PaulineS [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 2:54 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Len is probably the one who will have to clean it up! THough Margot getting the coffee ready is a good sign that she will help.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 4:54 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

JS can you read my mind? :shock: Anyway, a second update today as I shall be away tomorrow and not able to do so, and I do know I've been neglecting this recently.

- X -

The next morning there were sundry groans as people tried to get up. Stiffness had set in fully during the night, and more than one of them rolled over and went back to sleep again when they did first awake. Len was the only exception to this rule; she had slept on a mattress on the floor in Con’s room in case that young lady tried to sleepwalk again and injured herself more. It wasn’t the most comfortable bed she’d ever known, despite a year at university, and she was more than glad to get up and go and start breakfast.

It was the luscious scents which eventually tempted the other members of the party down, as Margot explained, all except Con, who was brought something in bed to keep her happy. She confessed to still being sleepy, but she had had an undisturbed night and that was a miracle with her shoulder. Each movement was painful, and she began to wonder if she could ever get out of bed again, but she was relieved by Reg, who appeared after breakfast with some paracetamol, which helped to get rid of the worst of her pains. In any case, she was far too subdued by the accident to try and draw attention to herself.

Three of the party decided to take advantage of another clear day to go and explore Spärtz, once Albert had assured them he would stay behind and look after the patient. His excuse was that his arm – which had been diagnosed as being wrenched through clinging on to Con for so long – hurt too much, though they could all tell that really he wanted to talk to his sweetheart. The shadows under his eyes told of an unpleasant, restless night, but they were all too polite to mention this. Instead they accepted his reasons meekly enough, and with a final reminder from Reg to give Con a little more paracetamol at lunch, for a strained shoulder is no fun, the three set off.

Albert grinned as he shut the door. His friend – and the two men were close – tended to forget that Albert was, in fact, his superior once he got involved in a case, and more than once he had been cheerfully ordered around for half an hour or more until Reg realised who he was talking too and embarrassedly let him take over again. Today was no exception, but for once Albert was grateful; he had enough responsibility with his conscience to try and battle with being a good doctor, too.

As soon as he’d seen them a fair way down the lake path and was sure that nobody was going to rush back for something forgotten, he headed upstairs and to Con’s room. In truth all that was really bothering him was that he’d kept on at the same breakneck pace despite the increased difficulty of the ground, and he was incredibly fearful that Con was going to blame him for the accident happening, not realising that she was thinking exactly the same thing. He was a straightforward man, and even as a boy hadn’t minded apologising when he was in the wrong; he only hoped that such an apology would be enough.

When he entered, after a hesitant tap, he found Con sat up in bed, a book on her lap and her arm in a sling, though she looked up the second that he entered. Len had assured them all that she’d been as rosy and placid as could be expected that morning, and Reg had echoed her sentiments when he came back down, but now she looked pale, and her lips were set in a thin line. Her face was robbed of half its natural beauty like that, and Albert was sure his fears were going to be realised. Steeling himself against the disappointment, he came forwards and sat down in the chair Reg had dragged next to the bed, wrapping his fingers slowly around her own.

“Can you ever forgive me for yesterday?” he whispered.

“Can you ever forgive me?” repeated Con in equally low tones. Suddenly they looked at each other and began to giggle, Con first but Albert following suit quickly. “I’m sorry,” confessed the former frankly once she had recovered a little of her self possession. “I was so worried you were going to be cross at me because I kept rushing on, even though I could tell it wasn’t safe. I guess we were both as bad as each other, though, and we’ve both paid for it.”

“At least now there’s no need to mention it again,” said Albert thankfully, for in the small hours of the night he had tortured himself about if Con could still love him, given his part in it all. To know that she not only forgave him but could, in some part, laugh about it lightened his heart instantly. However, she was looking embarrassed again, clearly there was something else that needed to be said. “We can talk about it if you want,” he promised earnestly. “I know how scary it must have been. But not now – wait until you feel better.”

“It’s just – yesterday – I – you helped Len to – to bathe me, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” said Albert, puzzled. Then, suddenly, warmth flooded his face as he caught up with her thoughts. This angle of things hadn’t occurred to him at all and he couldn’t get over his own inhibitions enough to conjure up speech. Evidently this had been troubling Con, though, and with a great effort he managed to find what he wanted to say. “I – I see. Look, I’ll be frank, because you need to understand this if we are to have any future together. There are some things which I do because of who I am. I held on to you yesterday no matter how reckless it might have seemed because I love you, and I was never going to let you go.

“Then there are some things which I do as a doctor, things which I can’t change but which it might be hard for you to accept. Some of them are big things, like knowing that there is nothing else you can do for a person except stop them hurting until the end; I found that so hard at the start of my career, but it is something which you have to believe is for the best. Helping Len was one of those things, and I’m so truly sorry if I’ve upset you in any way by doing it. But you must understand that I did it purely as a doctor, in fact I can barely remember it now, and I would never, ever do it normally.”

“I know,” said Con, but there was a distracted look in her eyes, and when Albert glanced at her, puzzled, she started and blushed nearly as badly as he had been a moment before. “Sorry. I – I know that, I just wonder if now –“

“You’ll always be beautiful to me,” he promised, so sincerely that she had to believe him. “Now tell me what’s made you suddenly go so dreamy.”

“Just something you said,” she muttered. “I think that I’ve got my ending.”

It was possibly the first time in his life Albert had been left feeling so speechless; it was the last thing he had expected to hear, despite being so inevitable. In one way it was probably for the best, though. The topic of conversation had been so serious, and he still wasn’t sure if Con really understood what he was saying, but he knew that it was something you just had to get used to in time. He had struggled just as much with bashfulness at the start of his career.

“Pleased to have been of some use,” he replied with mock gravity. “All I ask is half an hour of your time for a humble soul, then I shall be more than happy to go and fetch you a pen and some paper and let you scribble away until lunch. If you feel up to it tomorrow, you could sit up in bed and try and type it up.”

“Come here,” said Con, holding out her good arm. Albert hugged her as tightly as he dared, kissing her cheek softly. “Thankyou for being my hero.”

“Thankyou for letting me,” was his only response.

Author:  shazwales [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 6:38 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for the update that was lovely.

Author:  PaulineS [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 6:54 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for two updates in one day. Hope tomorrow goes well.

Author:  Alison H [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 9:36 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That was nice. Hope the rest of the holiday is peaceful and uneventful, though!

Author:  Abi [ Fri Jul 31, 2009 10:10 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Ah, that was nice. Can it be possible that Albert is too good to be true?

Thanks Ariel!

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sat Aug 01, 2009 8:28 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the updates. It's lovely to see they are all okay

Author:  jmc [ Sat Aug 01, 2009 11:52 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Really happy that they are all OK. The conversation between Con and Albert was lovely. Thanks Ariel

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Aug 02, 2009 10:00 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Just a short update to finish this off - hope you enjoyed this part of the drabble!

- X -

The thrill of planning it all was starting to wear off now, and Annabella was just getting excited about going. She couldn’t wait to be away, to leave all of this behind her and start anew with Himerus. She had so much still to learn, so much to discover; Himerus had promised to tell her his story once they were away. They would have a long drive ahead of them to get to the cottage that he had chosen, and now she wanted to know all about him. First, though, she had to leave.

The day was all planned. In the morning she went through her routine as normal, making breakfast for them all and kissing the children goodbye before they went to school. If there was something extra in her small tokens of affections they didn’t notice, and she surprised herself by becoming teary as they were driven away. She hadn’t thought that it would be so difficult to know she would never see them again, never watch them grow up and make her proud. It was for the best, though; Jonathon would look after them, and she had never been a good mother. They would be better without her.

Jonathon had gone to work already, and so all that was left for her to do was pack her suitcase and get it into the car before anyone came back to disturb her; the cleaner would probably be here soon, and she didn’t want anybody to know anything about where she had gone. During the past couple of days, as the day drew closer and closer, she had been sorting out her jewellery, deciding to put some of it away – or so she told her husband. Actually she had been siphoning it off into a small box, which was the first thing she put in the corner of the light case she had dug out from the back of her wardrobe. That was the money taken care of.

Next in were her clothes. She was just unfolding trousers from their hangers when she heard the front door open and shut, and cursed. Trust the cleaner to be on time for once, usually she was at least ten minutes late. Biting back all of the comments she could make, she continued to pack, hoping she would be able to convince the dim young girl who came in and did the dusting that she was taking the things to a charity shop and she would be back soon. Such information wouldn’t really give anything else away. Desperately she threw in the trousers, grabbed three tops and had just put them in and started to zip it up when she heard a familiar tread on the stairs.

Her heart stood still when the door swung open, and Jonathon came into the room. He was supposed to be at work, he wasn’t supposed to be here, and all of the explanations which had flooded her mind disappeared suddenly as she looked at him. He knew. The shock of seeing that knowledge in the familiar lineaments of his face drove everything else from her, and she sat down weakly on the bed, tears coming all too easily.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, when the silence had continued for a long time and she still couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was, she was sorry that he had found out, sorry that she had been caught, sorry he was so clearly hurt by it. She was sorry that she couldn’t be sorry for the right reasons.

Wild thoughts attacked her in her moments of panic. She had never seen him look so angry, so hurt, as he took in the suitcase on the floor, making it pitifully obvious what she was going to do. How he had found out that she was going today was a mystery to her, she'd been so careful to be quiet when she phoned Himerus. He couldn't possibly know anything, and even if he did she didn't know what he could do to stop her.

“I love you,” he said huskily. “You think I would ever let you go? I suppose you thought that you were hiding everything you were up to; leaving bits of paper lying around, making up some stupid new friend. Oh, how cunning. But I found it, your plans.”

He drew out of his pocket the information on the cottage Himerus had found for them, at which Annabella went deathly pale. That had been hidden, she had always been so careful, he couldn’t know. This wasn’t happening, she was just dreaming, she would wake up in a minute and realise that it was the morning and nobody knew anything and she was going to run away with the man she loved. How could it possibly go so horribly wrong now?

But something about the whole situation told her more plainly than words could have that he did know, and she wasn't going to run away. She didn't even know that she ever would have; once the adrenaline had worn off, and she had been forced to settle down to a normal life with him, she didn't know if she could have really loved him. He was so perfect, everything she'd looked for, could he have been too good to be true?

“Put your things away,” Jonathon ordered wearily in the end. “You aren’t going. This is all madness, you wouldn’t ever have really gone through with it, you know that. You love me, too.”

“No,” she begged. The best thing to do now was to be silent, agree with him, call it a stupid mistake and try and secure her place as his wife. But something, loyalty to Himerus and the love he had shown her, made her fight back. She had to be with him. She needed to be with him. “I love him, not you, and I’m going to be with him, you can’t stop me.”

“Then tell me his name,” said Jonathon simply.

“I – it’s –“

Annabella had to stop, defeated. Somehow, he knew, he knew that she couldn’t, that she was truly helpless. She knew nothing about him, he had never told her, perhaps because he didn’t trust her, perhaps because he thought that she didn’t need to know. Whatever it was, she couldn’t even tell her husband that, she couldn’t have found him again if she hadn’t known where he lived. There was nothing more she could do.

“Please,” she begged one last time, but it was pointless. She knew, had always known, that some people were destined never to have their happy ending.

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Aug 02, 2009 10:07 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Glad Con's been able to finish her book, but I hope that doesn't mean she thinks she and Albert are destined not to have a happy ending :roll: !

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sun Aug 02, 2009 10:55 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm wondering how much Con's story will play out in real life. Thanks for the updates

Author:  jmc [ Sun Aug 02, 2009 11:52 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I'm glad that Con has managed to finish her book. Hoping it doesn't come true though.

Author:  Abi [ Sun Aug 02, 2009 9:22 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Echoing what everyone else has said.... I hope Con's story takes a different turn. This is great, thanks Ariel!

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Aug 03, 2009 8:43 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for the comments :D

- X -

As promised, the next day the typewriter was duly brought along. With only one hand in use, her other arm still being in a sling, it took Con all morning just to type up the first page, but she heavily edited as she went along, and if she still wasn’t entirely satisfied with the ending she didn’t say anything. Now she was learning what it meant to write to a deadline, and to have to finish in a slightly less than perfect way to have it there on time. All the same, as she lay the sheets aside she wondered if this would affect the chance she was being offered.

The accident on the mountain had ended any possibility of her being able to send it off by the actual deadline, but there was a letter already on its way to England from Albert, explaining to his brother why it was going to arrive slightly later than expected, and Con hoped that would be enough to avoid getting into trouble. Everything was stacked against her getting this book accepted, apart from the fact that it was Albert who had recommended her, and she didn’t want to become a published author just because of the man she loved.

Once again the other three members of the party had gone out for the day, leaving Con and Albert alone, though Len had promised to stay the next day so Albert could still enjoy a little of his holiday. Ever since the horrible day on the mountain, she had been going around looking worried and depressed, and even Reg’s consoling words hadn’t made much of a difference; it had been she who had to send the telegram home explaining what had happened, and she knew that she was to blame. The reassurances of everyone else, even Con, that she had had nothing to do with the accident and there was nothing she could have done to prevent it didn’t stop her worrying.

Only Margot seemed to remain relatively unaffected. Unable to enjoy the same freedoms here that she did at university, she had still drunk far more than Reg (who’d settled down to enjoy a whiskey) the night before, his questions of the advisability in doing so to the contrary. Thankfully Len had gone to bed early, and Albert was upstairs talking to Con, so she had got away without recriminations, though she knew that Len would come to hear of it and then she would be in trouble. If there was one thing she disliked about Reg, it was his refusal to be compromised, and that he always told the truth to Len.

Luckily for Con, her hard work hadn’t gone unnoticed. When Albert brought up lunch – and he was no natural cook, even Con had to give up on fruit cocktail he had tried to make – they cuddled up together and he looked at the single sheet she had been able to produce. Once again his offers of help were rebuffed, but this time Con was starting to see that she couldn’t hope to finish this alone, and in the end he wore her down. With many promises not to judge her on her work, and not to criticise any of it unless asked to do so, he dragged in a small table after lunch, and sat down to type whatever she dictated.

He could also see the amount of work needing to be put into the end before it was as good as he knew Con could be, but he wasn’t going to tell her so unless she asked directly, and in any case it was better than some of the books he tried to read before. Perhaps it wasn’t the sort of thing his brother would normally choose to publish, but the writing style was strong, and he was sure it would be suitably impressive for her to at least be offered the chance to write something more to his style. However, it was entirely up to his brother; he had made it explicitly clear that if he didn’t like the book he was to reject it, he wasn’t to be nice just because of the connection. Albert valued Con a lot more highly than that.

What had started as a necessity turned out to be a perfect afternoon, and when Reg arrived and ran upstairs to see how his patient was doing, he found her sat up in bed, papers spread around her, face flushed with laughter and eyes sparkling again. When he opened the door she was just dictating something to Albert, who was sat meekly to one side typing what he was asked to, although she stopped as the other man came in.

“No need to ask how you are,” he laughed, picking up her good wrist to take her pulse anyway. “Yes, we’re all fine, had a good day; we pooled together the last of our money and took the train through to Zillertal. It’s absolutely magnificent – or splendiferous, as Len described it.”

“I’m sure I shall hear all about it at dinner,” replied Albert, who had been checking everything that he’d typed so far to ensure that there were no mistakes. It was to be feared that he wasn’t the best person with a typewriter.

“What are you planning for tomorrow?” asked Con eagerly. Even if she could no longer take part in the holiday itself, her leg still unable to support her weight, she looked forwards to the hour that evening when Len and Margot would come and tell her all about their day. To her surprise, Reg smiled.

“That rather depends on you. If you’re up to it, we were talking today about going home again. I know we were supposed to have another day, but to be quite honest, we’ve run out of money, Joey will be dying to see you if I know anything about her, and I think Len would be a lot happier at home. Only if you feel up to the journey, though.”

“Isn’t it a bit soon?” asked Albert with a frown, jumping to the defence of his beloved, but she interposed firmly,

“I’m more than happy to try, if you can bolster me well with pillows. I don’t feel nearly so bad today, my leg is still aching a little, but I’m sure I can prop that up between the seats. If I am going to be stuck in bed for the foreseeable future, I’d far rather it was my own with Anna to make decent food.”

She glanced at Albert as she talked, and was rewarded by seeing him blush graciously. His attempts at lunch had more than merited her light remark that he needed a wife to look after him properly, and he knew it. However, she was kind enough to refuse to explain the joke to Reg, and he managed to avoid further teasing, as they discussed how best to get Con into the minivan.

“In any case,” said Reg in the end, standing up to leave. “If we are going, tomorrow will largely be packing, though apparently Margot is going to treat us to a walk around the lake at some point. So you get a good night's sleep, tonight and tomorrow night, and then you’ll be fine for the journey.”

With his last remarks to Con he left to go and find Len and ask what was for dinner, for the excitement of the train journey had left him hungry. Alone again, Albert glanced over the remaining few pages and smiled; with a comment that they could finish it before dinner if they tried, they both went back to Con’s story. She would never have admitted it, but she was actually quite proud to know that the man she loved was hearing her words being read to him. The best bit of all was when he promised that she would never be without her happy ending, he would make it come true for her somehow.

Author:  Alison H [ Mon Aug 03, 2009 9:11 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Aww, bless!

Author:  jmc [ Mon Aug 03, 2009 11:36 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

How sweet. :D

Author:  JB [ Mon Aug 03, 2009 12:25 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Oh, that's lovely, Ariel.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Mon Aug 03, 2009 2:22 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That is so nice, though am worrying that Len is blaming herself so much. Also am very glad to hear that reg won't lie to Len

Author:  shazwales [ Mon Aug 03, 2009 7:05 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel that was lovely.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Aug 04, 2009 1:57 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

They spent the next day as planned, packing up their things and tidying the rooms in the chalet that they had used. Len insisted on doing the kitchen herself, to make sure it would meet Anna’s exacting standards, while Margot swept the hall. Then, while the eldest of the triplets cooked dinner for them all, the rest went out for a stroll around the lake, to take in the sights one last time. The two men, Albert in particular, felt as if they had barely seen anything of the area so familiar to their hosts, but they decided optimistically to take this as a good reason to come back with them at some point.

Con’s leg was still sore, and if she tried to move she would wince at the twinges of pain from her shoulder, but before they went out in the afternoon Reg and Albert helped her downstairs to the Saal. When she heard what had happened, Margot nearly insisted on not going on the walk with them, for she hadn’t got to see much of Con at all during the holidays, and she could feel her Devil starting to whisper things to her again. However, when the two men put their foot down, she knew she couldn’t argue, though she spent most of the walk looking sulky. There was a good reason for the dictum, however.

Once alone in the house, Len brought the vegetables she was preparing for the meal into the Saal., and she and Con sat peeling and chopping them together. They were both fast workers after years under Frau Mieders, and potatoes and carrots are never that difficult anyway. At first there was a perfect silence between them – Con could tell that her sister had something which she wanted to say, and she was just waiting for her to find the right words to do it. She was shelling peas by the time Len looked up and quietly began,

“When you were on the mountain I – I saw how Albert looked at you. He really loves you, Con, and I know that you love him back.”

“Yes,” said her sister simply.

“But would you, if he asked, I mean, would you give up your life for him? Go wherever he asked, even if you didn’t want to?”

“He would never ask me to do that,” was the self-assured answer. Con only hoped that it was the right thing to say.

“Reg has though!” burst out Len unexpectedly. The peas she had been dealing with went all over the floor, and she dropped her knife in dismay. Reaction followed almost instantly. Without warning she burst into tears, covering her face with her hands and sobbing heavily; it was all that Con could do to make sure she was listening.

“Len, listen to me, don’t cry, you don’t need to cry now. Look, you’re going to have to come to me, I can hardly walk across there and hug you, can I? Come and sit here next to me, and tell me what’s wrong.”

Obediently, Len came over to the low, wicker sofa and buried her head in Con’s good shoulder, still crying as hard as she could. There was nothing Con could think of to console her, although she knew now exactly what the problem was, but she was spared having to think of a response by Len starting to speak again. Her voice still wobbled, but she took a few deep breaths, and was just understandable.

“I love him so much, I really do, you must never doubt that, and he loves me too. Mamma would never have let us get engaged if she wasn’t sure of that, and neither would Papa, and if I didn’t think he did I would stop it immediately. But he expects so much of me, and he’s so impatient. I know how disappointed he was when I said that I wanted to do my degree first, and at the time I shrugged it off, but now I’ve moved away and grown up, I want to come back less and less.”

“You need to tell him this,” said Con, her face serious. It wasn’t often that she had to deal with such big problems, and especially not alone like this; before she could always have gone to Joey, or even Auntie Hilda, if she really needed advice, but she knew that this was something she had to tackle alone.

“I can’t!” retorted Len, sitting up and beginning to dab at her swollen eyes. “He wouldn’t understand, and I tried to talk to him once about us not setting up our home on the Platz, but somewhere else. He listed all of these reasons why he didn’t want to leave – that it was his home, and he loved his job and didn’t want to give it up, and it would be best for our children if we brought them up in such life-giving air.”

“Well,” said Con reasonably, “coming back to the Platz doesn’t mean giving up on life. You could still teach, if you wanted to, and you would be close to home then. Could you maybe even suggest a compromise? Perhaps you could find a chalet in one of the towns, but close enough that you could both still commute up each day. You know that there’ll always be a job at the school if you want it.”

“There’s more to life than the Chalet school,” growled Len unexpectedly. “I don’t want to go back there, I don’t want to be just another old girl. I want to make my own life, and my own identity, and of course I want Reg to be part of that, but how can I if I just end up coming back again?”

“You’ll find a way,” said Con sensibly. “If you both love each other enough, you’ll find a way to be together and be happy no matter what. And you have another two years of your degree left yet, that’s plenty of time for things to change. Maybe they’ll open a new branch of the San somewhere else, and Reg will move with it, or he might see how unhappy you are and come to England for you.”

“I suppose,” said Len unwillingly.

“I don’t mean to preach,” smiled her sister, “but really, you shouldn’t worry so much. It’s perfectly reasonable for you to want to build your future somewhere else, and Reg will see that in time. There’s nothing you can do about it now, anyway.”

The door slamming open signalled the return of the rest of the party, which forced Len to mop at her eyes one last time with a now decidedly grubby handkerchief before getting down on all fours and starting to collect together the peas. Con, meanwhile, gave a hearty sigh, for she knew she was going to end up closeted in the room with Margot until dinner was ready, and the last thing she wanted to hear about was how little time they spent together. She loved Margot dearly, but sometimes she couldn’t tell when a person wanted to be alone to think; and Con had a lot of that to do.

Author:  little_sarah [ Tue Aug 04, 2009 2:18 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I've been away from the board for a while and have just read this all at once - it's beautifully written, thank you.
I hope Len can find a way to sort out her unhappiness.

Author:  Abi [ Tue Aug 04, 2009 2:27 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Poor Len :( . Reg ought to at least listen to and seriously consider her point of view - it's as if he thinks of her as an addition to himself rather than as a person with opinions and needs of her own. Thought Con's advice very sensible, though and hope it helps Len. I think she needs to talk to Reg though.

Thanks Ariel!

Author:  Alison H [ Tue Aug 04, 2009 2:59 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Oh dear - poor Len, and I hope Margot isn't going to make things unpleasant for the others.

I can see Reg's point of view - the original agreement was that Len would move back to the Platz after she'd done her degree - but he really shouldn't have expected someone with so little experience of life away from the Platz to make that decision then. Len is quite right - at the CS she will always be Joey's daughter, Madge's niece, yet another Old Girl, etc.

Author:  PaulineS [ Tue Aug 04, 2009 3:52 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Good Len has admitted what is wrong at last. Hope Albert can talk sense into Reg without knowing it is needed. Albert finds reg wants to as a senior dctor even when is not, so he could suggest Reg sends some time getting more experience in England whilst Len is there.

Author:  JB [ Tue Aug 04, 2009 5:27 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Glad that Len has admitted what the problem is. Hope she can to talk to Reg and learn that what she wants it just as important as what anyone else wants.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Tue Aug 04, 2009 8:45 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Glad Len has finally talked about what's bothering. I think Con's given some good advice and hope Reg does listen or he'll end up losing someone he loves.

And I'm feeling sorry for Margot. It's hard when you've missed someone so much cos you haven't seen them in a few months and then you get told all the time your selfish because you would love to catch up with them. She's been really great about everything and sharing her sisters with their partners, so why is everyone giving her a hard time for wanting to spend some time with her sisters. I think Con, and Len, should stop thinking it's okay for them to forget their friends and family just because they now have boyfriends.

Author:  JS [ Wed Aug 05, 2009 8:40 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Yes, I wouldn't have fancied being in Margot's shoes this holiday - she's the only one of the three who didn't have another person there, so might have felt a little left out anyway, regardless of her propensity to jealousy.

Glad Len got that off her chest, though :)

Author:  Alison H [ Wed Aug 05, 2009 8:57 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I feel a bit sorry for Margot too. I once arranged a meal out with an old friend from school whom I hadn't seen for ages, and I was looking forward to having a good catch-up ... and then she arrived with her boyfriend in tow, and she hadn't even asked me if I minded her bringing him along! & that was just one evening - it must be awful being the only single person on holiday with two couples.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Wed Aug 05, 2009 9:40 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for all of your comments :D It's always interesting to see what other people think!

- X -

The next morning saw them all bundled into the mini-van and ready to go home. The evening before Margot had got her time with Con, and if she was slightly distracted it was no more than they were all used to with the future writer, but it had still been an early night for all concerned. The journey back was going to be a long one, and although some of them could sleep on the journey, Reg was driving again and Albert had promised to look after Con.

With this in mind, he had taken a window seat, and Con was propped up against him, two pillows between them. They had had to borrow liberally from the beds in the chalet, but nobody was that concerned; it wouldn’t be used again until Joey and Jack came back, and they had to stop Con feeling as much of the jolting as possible. That was the reason she was leaning against Albert and not the side of the vehicle, and also why she had one leg propped against the chair opposite, blocking the aisle, resting up on another two pillows.

Her knee had stopped hurting for the most part, though she still required some assistance on the stairs and it was going to be a while longer before she could walk more than a few steps by herself, but when Reg had changed the bandage that morning he had informed her it was healing nicely. The same went for her wrist, perhaps the least of her injuries, but her shoulder was a different matter. The muscles had been badly strained by the weight they’d had to hold as she dangled off the side, and she would probably have to go back to university with the sling still on.

Thankfully, Albert’s arm was healing well, though he did think that he might have to take just one or two days off of work to make sure, coincidentally at about the same time as Con had wondered whether they would be able to see each other again once they got back to the Platz. The two were comfortably settled before they set off, Albert with one arm securely around Con’s waist to make sure she didn’t slide out around some of the sharper corners on their route, his fingers entwined with hers. He stroked them lazily as they drove, which made Con smile happily.

Naturally the first conversation to spring up was about the holiday. The two men promised that they had enjoyed it a great deal, and the incident was carefully not mentioned until Con herself brought it up. Then she made an apology to them all for the worry that she’d caused and the fact that she’d probably ruined the holiday – at which juncture Margot informed her she really wasn’t that important, which helped to lighten the mood considerably – and thanked them all for what they had done in saving her. It was all that was said to them, but it was enough.

Soon they had exhausted all of their daytrips, and the sights that they’d seen, and conversations began to branch off. With an eye to Margot’s feelings, Reg concentrated furiously on the driving, while she and Len started a discussion about a book they’d both been reading over the holidays. Following on from a completely random comment earlier in the conversation, Con and Albert started discussing their ideal families. Neither of them would say that they meant for the other to be the missing member of this, but they both agreed on most things.

Con wanted a relatively large family, though nothing like her own, while Albert would be content with just a couple of children – his partner thought that five or thereabouts would be good. They both agreed that there would have to be instant obedience trained into the children from an early age, Con was still too close to the difficulties Margot had had during her teenage years to want that for her own children, and Albert was apt to just agree with her. They did, however, add the provision that they wouldn’t want to be too strict, but as fair and just as possible.

After that, an argument over names started. They were both in agreement over the idea of naming a first-born son after his father, but after that they were at a loss; Con liked newer, more fashionable names, as well as some she’d picked up from books, but Albert was quite traditional and preferred old English names such as her own.

Their argument eventually attracted the attention of the others, and they all fell to it; Len made more than one suggestion for names she’d like, although Reg refused to comment on many of her ideas. He did promise gallantly that one could be named after her Auntie Margot, which did much to reconcile that young lady to the man she had previously been inclined to blame for splitting her up from her sisters over the holiday. Other than that she declared that she’d never thought about it, as she would never need to, though she was more than happy to offer opinions on the other’s choices. She quite liked some of Albert’s, but thought they would work better as middle names, as they were too plain for everyday use.

With conversation flowing freely through the van, the journey back seemed far quicker than the journey there, and they were all surprised when they stopped for lunch, in the same place as before. That was the only break in the day, and early afternoon saw them just turning on to the Platz, Reg unable to resist beeping his horn as they approached Freudesheim. At once a tumble of people washed through the front door and prepared to mob them.

Author:  Alison H [ Wed Aug 05, 2009 10:11 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

If Joey kicks up a fuss about Con's accident, I hope someone'll remind her that she seemed to end up almost on her deathbed at least once a term when she lived in Tyrol!

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Aug 06, 2009 10:14 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

The last update pushed me over the 50K word target I was trying to hit :shock: I'd love to know how it ended up longer than that (or will do, by the time I've finished this), when I didn't think I was going to hit it!

- X -

By the time that everyone had hugged everyone else twice and Felicity and Cecil had done an excited dance together which ended in them crashing into Bruno and knocking Geoff over, at least ten minutes had gone by. Attracted by his son’s yells, Jack arrived to demand to know who was being murdered, which had a considerably calming effect on the group. Thankfully, Albert had kept Con in the minivan, guessing quite correctly that if he let her go out someone would knock her shoulder and she’d be in agony within seconds.

Having given a cordial greeting to Reg and made sure two of his daughters were healthy and well, Jack then called that it was safe for the last to be let down. Inside, unseen, Albert grinned, then bent and kissed the top of Con’s head softly before he started to help her up. Already Anna had appeared to usher the disappointed younger children back inside, promising that they could see Con later on if she was up to it. The elder boys had all gone around to help Reg unload the luggage, while Margot and Len were reassuring Joey that the accident had been no worse than several dozen of the things she’d done in her time.

“Oh, I know,” she said breezily enough. “I’d be most disappointed if any child of mine fell apart in an emergency. I’ve given you plenty of training in how to behave, after all!”

Jack decided that it might be wise not to show the bruises on his arms which had been caused by an anxious wife when the telegram first came through, but let her go on pretending to be relaxed about it all, while he dealt with his patient. He knew that he could trust Reg and Albert to have looked after her well, but there was never going to be anyone who could help her in the way he could, and regardless of any protests he was going to care for her this time.

The train of his thoughts was broken by the sight of her slowly descending from the van, leaning heavily on Albert as she did. Another couple of paracetamol with lunch had dulled most of the pain, but she was still shaken from the journey, and what little colour there had been before had left her cheeks. Despite that, though, she didn’t look ill exactly – rather like Joey, she would be far better once she’d had a good rest. Looking up at the woman he’d first fallen in love with, Jack caught his daughter in his arms and pulled her into his chest, hugging her ferociously.

“It’s good to have you back,” he said quietly. “Your mother is enough for anybody to worry about at a time, I don’t need you inheriting her dangerous streak as well.”

They pulled apart, and Joey rushed over to hug her daughter as well. Breathing in the familiar scent again, and knowing that she was as safe as she could possibly be, Con came the closest to crying that she had since she woke up the morning after the event. She had to take several deep breaths to control herself, but Joey, understanding, let her bury her head in the familiar black earphones until she had herself under control.

“I’m sorry,” said Con, looking quickly between both of her parents. “It was all my fault, I was being stupid –“

“Nonsense,” said Albert robustly, straightening his shoulders. He knew that Joey’s attitude towards him wasn’t going to improve when she heard about it all. “It was more my fault than anyone else’s.”

“Actually,” said Len morosely from the gate, where she and Margot had been watching proceedings silently. “It was our fault too. If we’d tried walking, instead of slipping around like Juniors, we wouldn’t have fallen so far behind.”

“Come inside, and we can talk about it there,” said Jack gravely, though the twinkle in his eyes gave him away. “That’s all of you,” he added for Albert’s benefit, for the latter was looking decidedly unsure of himself. Meanwhile, Con had been whispering to Joey in rapid French, which she had learnt on the holiday Albert didn’t know very well, and had promised to teach him. The triplets, who had been eavesdropping unashamedly, added their quota, in the same unintelligible gabble to the poor doctor, who stood in the midst of it all looking rather panicked.

“They’ve just been telling me what happened,” said Joey, walking over to the now considerably more nervous Albert, who was definitely showing it. “It seems that I owe you both an apology for doubting you to begin with and thanks for all you did to save my little girl.”

“Mum,” hissed Con, bright red, but she was smiling too. Albert just looked dazed, and rather relieved when Anna came to usher them all in for hot drinks. Reg, directed by Stephen, had been helping the three boys to put luggage in the right rooms, and they had already disappeared, so Jack stood to one side, supporting Con, until the other four had gone in.

“I love you,” he said quietly. “And now I think that it’s about time I took you inside and gave you a thorough once over – oh, I know Reg and Albert have probably been smothering you ever since it happened, but I want to make sure you’re ok.”

Leaning heavily on him, tears once more shining in her eyes, Con slipped a hand into her father’s and let herself be led back into the sanctuary of home.

Author:  Alison H [ Thu Aug 06, 2009 10:16 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Glad Jack and Joey were OK about everything.

Drabbles always seem to end up longer than they were intended to be!!

Author:  jmc [ Thu Aug 06, 2009 1:11 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Happy that Jo seems to be accepting Albert now.

Thanks Ariel

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Fri Aug 07, 2009 5:45 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Just a short update today, I'm afraid. Sorry :cry:

- X -

It was Anna who brought up a tray of tea, complete with her infamous lemon biscuits, for Jack and Con once they were settled in her room. Jack had helped her off with her heavier garments and she had snuggled gratefully into her soft duvet, still crisp from the laundry, a headache coming on and various parts of her body throbbing uncomfortably now. All the same, she was plucky enough to submit to Jack’s once over, and he was gentle and understanding. As his swift fingers probed softly, she gave a contented sigh at being back again.

“You have been in the wars,” was his only comment as he straightened up and poured out the tea for them both. “Perhaps that will teach you to go harum scarum down mountainsides in the pouring rain – yes, the telegram did tell me as much! You worried us, you know, however your mother might act.”

“I know,” said Con in a small voice. “I worried myself too.”

“But otherwise you had a good time? Got on with everyone?” Jack probed carefully, a twinkle in his eyes. Their anxiety was over now, and in his case hadn’t been so bad, for he knew that she was in the best of hands bar his own. It would be far better for her not to dwell on the issue.

“Everyone was lovely, even after I ruined it all,” she promised, but the look she gave him convinced him they both meant the same person by ‘everyone’.

“Good,” he said softly. He struggled with himself for a moment, then wrapped his fingers around her own, kissing her forehead softly. “Con, when I thought that I might have lost you, I – well, I thought about a lot of things. I know that I wasn’t there for you much when you were growing up, what with being away for so long and then spending such long hours at the San when I did get back. But you mustn’t ever think that I don’t love you, because I do, I love you so much.”

There wasn’t the right words for Con’s reply to that, and so she simply put her cup down and leaned in closer to him, her breath warm on his cheek. Her heart was pounding, and she instinctively knew that this was the last conversation she would have with her father as a child in any respect. She had grown up a lot during the past year, and meeting Albert had been just a small part of that, but it as a significant one; it had brought it home to her parents more clearly that she was an adult now.

“I never told you this before,” said Jack, trancelike, as if he needed to prove his previous statement to her. “But I came back on a visit, after you’d all been born. Your mum made me go for a shower, as the first thing, and Anna said she nearly fainted when she saw the state I’d left the bathroom in – I was thoroughly told off for that. There was mud everywhere, and I was covered in lice, and smelt worse than anything I’ve had the displeasure of meeting since. Joey refused to let me anywhere near her three innocent babies until I was human again. When she did, though, you were the first one I held.

"You won't understand until you have your own children how much it's meant to me to watch you all grow up, and how proud I am of you all now. But you, especially, are just like your mother, and I want to say something to you that Uncle Jem said to me, just before I got married. I think you'll understand what I mean when I say that I don't need to tell Albert. Jem just said to me 'Jack, it's a brave man who takes on Joey, but he'll be well rewarded for his courage'. You're just the same, you know, and Albert is a lucky man if you do decide to love him."

“Thanks, papa,” she murmured, but the story had brought emotion to her throat, and she was too tired to overcome herself. Tears slid slowly down her bright red cheeks, as she struggled to wipe them away; Jack got there first.

“Don’t cry,” he soothed, dabbing gently at her eyes. To the worn out Con he had never looked so kind and understanding before. “Is papa going to have to wipe away all your tears again?” He sat back, looked at her, and laughed gently. “I bet you don’t even remember that anymore! I’d had a horrible day at work, we’d lost a patient, and I came home to find you sat on the stairs screaming and screaming for me. I just wanted to sit down with a cup of tea, but instead I had to come and attend to the medical emergency of you trapping your finger in the door hinge. It had to be kissed better and even bandaged up before you’d stop crying.”

“I do remember,” replied Con, but there was a sleepy note in her voice, and she belied herself properly a moment later by yawning loudly. “Sorry.”

“Joey wants to speak to you, but I think she can wait until after dinner. Until then, you should have a nap, and only a half hour visit when she does come up I think, you need your rest.”

“Say thankyou to Albert for me,” she smiled, but already she had sunk back into the pillows and her eyes were closing. He assured her that of course he would, collected the tray, and left. By the time he turned around in the doorway, she was sound asleep, breathing evenly and looking much better. But, however much he tried to fool himself, he couldn’t deny that she wasn’t his little girl anymore.

Author:  PaulineS [ Fri Aug 07, 2009 6:32 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Jack is lovely here. Thanks for the updates

Author:  Alison H [ Fri Aug 07, 2009 8:43 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Jack is really sweet here. It's never easy accepting that a family member isn't a little kid any more.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sat Aug 08, 2009 8:19 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That was so lovely and sweet of Jack

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Aug 09, 2009 6:05 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

May I just say that I hope anyone who had bad thoughts about Joey feels suitably guilty after this!

- X -

As promised, after dinner Joey arrived, bearing with her pudding. This consisted of two luscious slices of cherry cake, made especially by Anna for the triplets’ return, and as mouthwateringly appetising as ever. There was a silence as Con devoured hers, although it took Joey a great effort to eat her own. She had spent the afternoon listening to the other four describe, as much as they could bear to, what had happened to them. She was horrified to think of her daughter dangling so precariously – something she seemed to recall Madge saying to her at some point, in a slightly altered form – but what really shone through was the sense of camaraderie which had saved them all.

Naturally, after such heroics as she had been assured he’d shown, Albert was invited to stay for dinner, but he politely declined. His housekeeper, he said, would be waiting for him, and there was some paperwork which needed his attention this evening. The cheerful way in which he said this highlighted even more the loneliness in his life, and made Joey appreciate just what having a companion such as Con would mean to him. The Platz, bar school and San., was largely composed of couples or tourists, there was very little for a permanently single man to do there, yet Albert didn’t seem to mind so much. She had shown him out, and by the door had swallowed her pride and shaken his hand.

That was the easy part taken care of, now she just had to talk to her daughter. Albert’s open countenance had convinced her that he forgave everything just because she was prepared to accept him now, but Con was another matter entirely. In another world she might be, most of the time, but if something roused her from her reverie she didn’t tend to forget it. Joey could step back now and appreciate the sheer illogicality of her actions, and also the calm, adult way Con had met her objections. She owed her daughter an explanation at the very least.

“I’m sorry I was such a beast to you,” she burst out suddenly, as Con laid down her plate. “Don’t say anything, I know that I was. Everyone else was so happy for you, and there I was, it must have seemed like I was just trying to make you miserable, or keep you with me forever. I suppose that in a way I was.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Con stringently. “Any parent – good parent, I mean – would be concerned about their child’s welfare, and that’s all it was, I know.”

“Oh, of course. My worst enemy could never accuse me of being spiteful,” laughed her mother, greatly relieved that her apology had been met so well. It was a bizarre twist of fortunes, for once she was the one receiving advice instead of dispensing it. “But I think you’re owed an explanation. If you choose to pass it on to Albert, that’s up to you, but I think he’s prepared to let the past go and just be happy with you if you want him.”

There was a contentedness about Con’s assurances she did which reminded Joey of her own schooldays, and Marie’s talk of her life with her husband. They had all seemed so young then, and in actuality Con wasn’t much older than the now Countess von und zu Wertheimer had been, but the way she behaved, particularly since she had gone to university, had made her mother forget that. She had reflected at length about her own happiness with Jack, and that of her friends, and the realisations that had brought had helped her a lot with her confession.

“I just want you to be happy,” she whispered, stroking Con’s wrist where the pristine new bandage sat comfortably. “I was only trying to make sure that you didn’t get hurt. And I know that now you think Albert would never do that to you, and perhaps he really does mean it when he tells you that, but there are so many things at the moment, and I just want to protect you from all of this. Your father made me see that I was just being silly, and you were going to fall in love one day, the only thing we could ever really do is to make sure you knew we were here if it all went wrong.

“I’m not ashamed to say that I can’t do that for all of you. Len tells me that she’s spoken to you, and I expect she was more frank with you than she feels she can be with me, that’s good. I do at least know that when you have no-one else, you all have each other. I also know that she is very unhappy at the moment, and that I was partly responsible for that because I told her to accept Reg, and I lead him along, when perhaps I should have stayed back.

“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. I tried so hard to get them together, thinking it would make them happy, and now I’ve done completely the opposite with you, and tried too hard to keep you apart. But I’m lucky that I have Jack to speak some sense to me when I need it.”

“You’re doing a brilliant job,” interrupted Con, unable to bear the tears sparkling in Joey’s eyes. Whatever her mother might have done was completely forgotten as she kissed the familiar cheek and pulled Joey into a hug. “Not just for us, everyone at school knows that they can turn to you if they need you. You’ve helped so many people, and you’re bound to get it wrong sometimes, we both understand why you’ve done what you have. I seem to remember you once saying to Margot that you must never apologise for being human.”

“It isn’t just that,” said Joey, gulping. All at once Con looked exactly like Madge just before she was made to feel very small after her latest exploit. “I don’t want you to have to grow up and face all of the pain that I have, and it doesn’t go away. I was looking forwards to having you three home again so much, my family complete, because I’ve realised that this will be one of the last years that I get that before Margot goes away and – and I might not ever see her again. A couple of months ago I – I thought I might be pregnant, and even though we said no more children after Claire, I was so excited. You know how I hate seeing you all grow up. Only I wasn’t, and it hurt so much. You can’t imagine how much I wanted that child, especially with you all going away and leaving me.”

“But you can’t hide us from that,” argued Con, a lump in her throat. In many ways she was the one who appreciated her family least, for she had never needed their support like Len and Margot had, and she had tended just to accept that at some point she must grow up and move away. The thought of never seeing one of her sisters again was something she’d never really thought about before. “I don’t want you to, either. I’d rather have twenty happy years with Albert and have to face that than never having anything at all.”

“I know that now,” said Joey quietly. “And – and if you want to see Albert again, well – just don’t fall over any mountains to get his attention next time, ok?”

It was all that was said on the matter, but it was enough. Time had flown by while they’d been talking, and all of the younger children – even Stephen swallowing his dignity and perching on one side of Con protectively – came in shortly afterwards to hear one of Con’s infamous tales before they went to bed. She sat in the midst of them all, completely lost in how the young knight would rescue his damsel in distress (with just enough violence thrown in to keep the male members of the party interested in the romance) now she knew she could be with Albert.

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Aug 09, 2009 8:20 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Joey was indeed very nice there.

I've often thought how boring life on the Platz must have been, but I've never thought how particularly boring it must have been for a single doctor - that's an excellent point :D . No wonder that they were always so keen to snap up the CS mistresses!! Actually, wasn't Joey's initial reaction to being told that Jem was going to move up to the Sonnalpe, before she knew that he and Madge were engaged, to say that it'd be very lonely for him up there? Maybe Madge and Jem picked these locations on purpose because they fancied themselves as matchmakers ...

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sun Aug 09, 2009 9:40 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel. I'm glad Joey could apologise.

Author:  Abi [ Mon Aug 10, 2009 10:50 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

It's good that Joey was able to apologise so fully and unreservedly and lovely to see them being reconciled.

Thanks Ariel.

Author:  shazwales [ Tue Aug 11, 2009 3:19 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel, it was really nice to see Joey and Con there especially as Jo has never liked admitting that she could possibly be wrong!

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Aug 11, 2009 8:34 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for the comments :D

- X -

The next day Con once again spent in bed, helping with the huge pile of mending always waiting to be done at Freudesheim, and in the afternoon having a cosy time with Len and Margot. She was pleased to hear that Albert had got his time off, and after this small break to recuperate, she told Jack that she thought she would be well enough to see him on the morrow. All that really hurt now was her shoulder, and that was going to ache for some time to come, so there was no point in simply lounging around until it stopped.

He duly came, with a bunch of flowers he’d picked on his way over for her room. They were rather a mismatch, for the tourists had left very little behind them, but they looked and smelt wonderful and Con rather hurriedly hunted up a vase for them. Her cheeks were flushed when she returned, but she soon got herself back under control, and they discussed what they wanted to do for the day. With the same tendency as Joey to get cabin fever extremely quickly, Con wholeheartedly wanted to get away from the house, but Albert forbade such a thing.

It felt odd for him to be around the house so casually, and he remarked as much once they’d started the stroll around the garden decided on. It was a lovely walk, with the sun overhead but still early enough in the morning not to be meltingly hot, and the flowers in full bloom, while bees droned lazily around them. They were even daring enough to hold hands, for, as Albert laughed, he could always protest that he had simply been making sure she didn’t fall over something again. As embarrassing as it was, Con felt glad that he could bring the accident up so casually.

But there was a tinge to the walk that neither had anticipated, for Con had had more than enough time to think on the previous day, and some tentative questions to her sisters hadn’t opened up an avenue to talk things over with them. She had meant to keep her worries from Albert, but he knew her better now, and he guessed that something was wrong. Too polite to ask, in the end it was Con who brought the subject up by blurting out,

“What happens next?”

“We walk around the garden and then go in for lunch,” he said promptly, but at once could tell he’d said the wrong thing. Mindful of the sun starting to blaze down and Con’s various aches and pains, he lead her over to a small patch of grass which dipped into the flower bed, and was correspondingly hidden on three sides by foliage. Reassured of their privacy, he tried again. “What happens when?”

“When I go back,” she said simply. Her eyes were troubled, and she leaned in against him, sling rough and fuzzy against his neck. “I don’t want to lose you, but there’s no way we can be together.”

“Nonsense,” was his reply. “Oh, I dare say that we can’t be together so much, but that is just a very good thing for my holidays. I only have so many days left, and if I were around you all of the time they’d be used up very quickly indeed. We can still write to each other, and I make it a habit to come and stay with my brother every year for Christmas, so that I can see all of my family. I’d very much like it if this year I can bring you with me to meet them all.”

“I’d like that,” smiled Con. “But that still doesn’t mean that we can be together.”

“I know. Look at it this way; we’re still getting to know each other, and anything might happen in the future. It’s far too early to say that you won’t meet a new man at university, or I mightn’t fall for the nurse whose been with the San for the last thirty years.” He paused to let Con giggle at this notion, for she knew the woman he was talking about and she was at least twenty years his senior, as well as expanding on the hopelessness of men whenever she possibly could. Then he continued more seriously, “At the moment, things are best as they are. We can meet up over Christmas, and you’ll still be coming out here for most of the summer, so we can see a lot of each other then.”

“I know,” she sighed wistfully. Evidently that hadn’t been what she wanted to hear. Albert glanced at her sharply, then made up his mind to tell her now something that he’d meant to keep to himself for a little while longer yet.

“This isn’t definite yet,” he said carefully. “And certainly we must both think about it before we decide on anything, but I have been thinking about the future a lot recently, and –“

He broke off as there was a rustle of bushes and Felicity appeared to fling herself wildly on Con with a shriek. Her hair was tousled and her clothes certainly looked as if they had seen much better days; as she dived in next to Con, she let out a half cry. Her sister turned to demand what on earth was wrong and ended up staring in shock instead.

Author:  shazwales [ Tue Aug 11, 2009 8:44 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks for the update,looking forward to the next bit.Soon please :?: :?: :?:

Author:  Alison H [ Tue Aug 11, 2009 9:45 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Oh dear, now what :shock: ?

Author:  JS [ Tue Aug 11, 2009 1:19 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Eh, what, has a lion escaped from the zoo??

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Wed Aug 12, 2009 9:02 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Lion? Zoo? :?

- X -

Bright red was daubed across Felicity’s cheeks, underlined with a vivid blue that Con recognised as the paints from the nursery. She had the same wavy lines across the back of her hands, and her lips had been enhanced, too. With her hair knotted around her head and her clothes shredded, she looked a complete sight, and it was only shock that stopped Con from shrieking in horror. Thankfully, she controlled herself, and by the time she’d regained some sense of reality Albert had a good grasp of the situation, though he hadn't reckoned on Felicity's cheekiness.

Like all of the younger children, Felicity tended to hold him in high regard. They had never really met him, and he was only known to them through the mysterious way in which all young children pick up every scrap of information their parents don’t want them to have. All they knew was that he had made Con fall in love, and while the boys tended to view it as “soppy” and “girlish”, Felicity had convinced her three faithful followers – Cecil, Phil and Claire – that it was just like in a fairytale, and he was the prince who would rescue Con.

“Can I ask what, exactly, you’ve been doing to get into that state?” was the prince’s trenchant reply. He was floored completely by Felicity’s calm,

“You can, and you also may.”

“Less of your cheek,” Con promptly retorted, with a glare that squashed her sister completely. Feeling that justice had been done well enough for now, she reiterated Albert’s question, then sat in expectant silence. The maddeningly breezy response made her want to shake her sister.

“We’ve been playing a game.”

“Oh, really?” Con had contrived to fall back into her role as prefect, and her voice was correspondingly icy, though this failed to impress Felicity much. She did condescend to explain, with much giggling, however.

“Hide-and-seek. It was going to be boys against girls, so while we were discussing our strategy Phil said we should all paint ourselves and make it a proper war.”

“And you used the expensive nursery paints for the occasion,” guessed Con, quite accurately. Felicity nodded, but before she could be rebuked for such conduct, especially in leading the other three astray when she was supposed to be in charge, she asked quickly,

“Do you want to join our team? At the moment we’ve got four each, but Stephen was only called away by mama really quickly, and when he joins there’ll be five of them and that isn’t fair!”

“You think that Con wants to play rough and tumble games when she’s so injured?” demanded Albert, at his very strictest. To those who didn’t know him he could appear quite intimidating, and for a few seconds Felicity wilted under his gaze, all thoughts of his heroic, brave deeds leaving her completely. Then he relaxed, with a friendly grin. “She mayn’t be able to, but I can and will. I shall join your team against the boys, and Con can sit on the grass with a cool drink and be home. Deal?”

It had to be assumed that a deal had been made, as at that moment Charles – the current seeker – came haring up and nearly pounced on Felicity. Before he could, Albert had jumped up and held him firmly at arms length, which gave Felicity the perfect chance to escape. Charles didn’t notice, though, reddening as he realised that had he jumped on her he would probably have ended up hurting Con as well.

With a profuse apology and a promise he would let Felicity be ‘safe’ so she could go and fetch just such a drink, he was let off, to go running after Claire, who he had suddenly spotted among the trees at the other end of the garden. All of them knew that they had to be gentle with the tinies, as Stephen and Charles especially were liable to call them – much against their protests – though Geoff, at least, was starting to prove he didn’t need such considerations shown to him.

While the game was going on, Albert got Con satisfactorily settled in the middle of the lawn, in full view of anyone who might be hiding. Then he called all of the players together and warned them that they were to be especially careful around her, as she mustn’t be jolted in any way. She merely rolled her eyes and told him not to worry so much, but the affectionate look he gave her was enough to stop her actively protesting against the sensible dictum.

The rules agreed upon and Stephen having joined them now that his sock drawer was as tidy as any respectable drawer should be again, the game started once more in earnest. Albert agreed to be the first seeker and spent a pleasant two minutes cuddling Con, who admonished him more than once for his childish glee at getting to join in. He shrugged and explained that there had only ever been him and his brother at home, this sort of fun wasn’t a large feature of his childhood.

The former talk hadn’t been forgotten, but they had silently agreed to leave it for a little while, until it could be brought up again in private. They weren’t going to get any peace today with several excited children trying to hide on top of them constantly. His count reached, Albert roared that he was coming to find them all, and left Con sat peacefully in the middle of the grass. He glanced back just before he rounded the corner and smiled at how relaxed and contented she looked, sat in the sun.

Author:  Alison H [ Wed Aug 12, 2009 10:19 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I've got the Albert and the Lion poem going through my head now :lol: .

Albert is doing very well coping with all those kids.

Author:  shazwales [ Wed Aug 12, 2009 5:22 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks, really enjoyed that :D :D :D :D :D

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Thu Aug 13, 2009 9:48 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

I have no idea where this came from, but I think the others are bored at not being allowed in on the adventure :?

- X -

At first the game went really well. Not knowing the house and gardens as well as everyone else, it took Albert a little while to hunt down anyone, though he soon appeared to chase Claire across the grass. She reached her sister easily and flopped down with a giggle, dishevelled and decorated similarly to Felicity but beaming broadly. Con stroked her hair and was easily persuaded to tell her a story while they waited for the others to join them; although she would never say it, Claire, of all of them, was her little darling. This summer she didn’t have Erica, who, like Ruey, had gone to stay with Gretchen von Ahlen over the holiday; Frieda had been sensitive to her friend’s desire to have her family around her for one of the last times, and had willingly agreed to have the two girls, while the Richardson boys stayed with Daisy as usual.

Claire was the darling of all the Maynards, though Con and her stories would always be a favourite, for nearly all of them remembered the sad circumstances in which she’d been granted to them. The two cuddled up together on the lawn and Con was murmuring gently by the time Charles came to join them. He was really getting too big to hide in trees, and the second Albert looked up he was caught. The only reason he’d got away was by dropping so suddenly he had nearly brained the doctor, who had been forced to duck out of the way.

He was still chortling over his victory when Geoff rounded the corner, chased closely by Albert. By throwing himself full length on his stomach in front of the motley gang rapidly collecting on the lawn he avoided being caught, but only just. The doctor did have to stop, and Con was gracious enough to give him some of her drink, before he went off again. To amuse themselves while they waited, Geoff and Claire both climbed on Con’s lap and, once Geoff had been informed of the plot so far, listened intently to the continuing story. Charles idly made a daisy chain.

There was a longer interval this time, as Albert had had to start hunting in the house for those he couldn’t find, but the next one out was Felix. He was in a bad mood, having been caught before he could get out of the front door, and as he slumped down he kicked Geoff. Neither of the two had been particularly friendly towards each other since an argument in the nursery while the triplets were away, and Felix refused to apologise for the accident. Unluckily Charles was away trying to tempt a jug of fruit juice out of Anna, or he could have easily taken control. He and Stephen both held a great deal of influence over their brothers, but for now Con was the only one there.

“Apologise to Geoff,” she insisted sternly, story temporarily forgotten. “I know you didn’t mean to do it, but you hurt him all the same.”

“Shan’t,” said Felix quickly. “The tinies should be more careful where they sit.”

This was adding insult to injury, and was too much for Geoff. The weather was getting to him, and he was still smarting over Anna’s stern rebukes after the argument before, he wasn’t in the mood to be a gentleman. Before Con could stop him he had jumped on Felix and was doing his best to hit him, as hard as possible. Felix retaliated in full, and with the advantage of age and strength soon had his brother pinned down. Not that this stopped Geoff, who promptly began to kick and bite instead, both of them yelling as they felt pain from various parts of their body.

Frightened by the sudden change, Claire dissolved into tears and tried to hide behind Con, who had cast her off her lap and was looking for an opportunity to separate the two boys. There was no point saying anything, they were both making far too much noise for her to be heard. She saw, thankfully, Margot’s head appear at a window, take in the scene, then disappear very quickly again. The best thing to do would be to wait, but Con had forgotten her injuries and at a particularly loud squall from Geoff, she plunged in regardless.

Promptly she sat back, ashen faced, for she had grabbed at Felix, who shook her off easily, knocking her shoulder in the process. The black spots had just stopped dancing in front of her eyes when she saw Margot come around the corner, Albert in hot pursuit. They drew up in front of the fight and waded in, grabbing a small boy each. Albert shook Felix until he bit his tongue, after the young man kicked him in the shins and made tears spring to his eyes, while Margot had lifted Geoff up off the floor, the shock of which promptly calmed him down.

She set him down, and, still holding him with one hand, took Felix with the other so that Albert could tend to Con, who still looked dazed. She brushed him off with an assurance that she was fine, and set about calming Claire down, but Albert was insistent and in the end persuaded her to take the sling off so he could just look. The noise which the two had made had reached Jack, who was sat in his study with the windows open, and he joined them just as Margot opened her mouth to start a stinging rebuke. He took in the situation at a glance then stared at two decidedly uncomfortable boys until they positively wriggled, cheeks a dark red.

“Fighting?” he enquired pleasantly. “I thought both of you were old enough to be trusted now. Evidently I was wrong. Margot,” he flashed a smile at his daughter while the two sinners weren’t looking, engaged in wiping the blood discreetly on their sleeves, “please take them to Rösli and ask her to tidy them up. Then you may both come to the study and explain yourselves.”

Both looked horrified at the prospect, for it was rare for any of them to see Jack this angry, and he was clearly furious with them. Aside from anything else he had been lost in the middle of a difficult report and this was an interruption he didn’t need. Having dealt with the pair for now, he sent them off under Margot’s stern gaze, and turned to ask after Con. Albert assured him that she was just shaken, and would be ok presently, the only real damage done was the long scratch on her arm where Claire had gripped her so fiercely. Smiling to himself, Jack said a few gentle words to his youngest daughter about not being scared, none of her siblings would ever hurt her, then went to go and wait for Felix and Geoff to join him.

Meanwhile, Charles had returned, though with a good sense of when not to be noticed he had skulked in the background until now. He offered to take over the role of seeker, for there was no reason why the rest of them should have their game ruined, and taking a large swig of fruit juice to cool himself down hared off again. He was far better than Albert, for he had been playing such games around the house for years and knew every nook and cranny; soon enough, the three on the grass had grown considerably.

The doctor doled out glasses of juice as they were joined by the others, while Con finished her story, cuddling Claire close as she was still shaky. Within ten minutes only Mike was missing, and no-one thought anything of that for he was always the best among them. But after twenty minutes, Stephen had grown bored and ran off to see if he could help. Another five minutes elapsed and, having heard nothing, Albert, too, went off. It was all fruitless. Half an hour later, as the bell rang for Mittagessen, there was no Mike to be found, though by now everyone – even Len and Margot – had been searching.

Once she’d handed Claire over to Rösli, Con came downstairs and alone walked in to face her parents. Jack was still looking annoyed at the disruption, though he had read both boys a lecture it would take them a long time to forget then sent Felix to help Anna and Geoff up to the nursery, and a decidedly annoyed Rösli, telling them both that they evidently couldn’t be trusted alone. He looked even grimmer when Albert came in just behind Con to tell them that wherever Mike was, it wasn’t in Freudesheim.

Author:  Alison H [ Thu Aug 13, 2009 9:57 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

A perfect opportunity for Albert to get some more brownie points with Jack and Joey by rescuing Mike from down a cliff or wherever he is!

Author:  shazwales [ Thu Aug 13, 2009 3:33 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

O dear what has Mike done now :shock: :?: :?:

Author:  JS [ Thu Aug 13, 2009 4:19 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

How very CS. A pit? A secret passage under the bushes? Or is he on top of a warbrobe a la Mary-Lou??

Thanks - really enjoying this.

Author:  Abi [ Thu Aug 13, 2009 9:58 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Are you sure you're not channelling EBD, Ariel? :D :shock:

Author:  Kadi [ Fri Aug 14, 2009 12:05 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Maybe he is trapped in a trunk and can't get out.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Fri Aug 14, 2009 12:47 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Loving the story and the suggestions of what could have happened to Mike :lol: :lol: :lol:

Author:  jmc [ Fri Aug 14, 2009 5:04 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Love that Albert is joining in. Poor Mike. Hope he doesn't get in too much trouble.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Fri Aug 14, 2009 12:48 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for your comments :) JS, I misread yours as "on top of Mary-Lou" :shock: I wish I was channelling EBD!

- X -

Mittagessen was forgotten in the general scramble to organise search parties. There was nearly a stand-up argument when Jack caught Felix trying to sneak into one group and having to explain to Joey why he was in disgrace, despite her protests that she should have been told sooner. It was left to Len to take Felix firmly back to the kitchen, the few words she did say noticeably dampening even his rampant curls. Then she tagged on to Margot, and the two proposed to run along towards the San. Aside from them, only Jack, Stephen, Charles and Albert were allowed to join, despite Joey’s protests. As Jack calmly pointed out, someone needed to look after the younger children, and with Anna and Rösli busy and Con looking all in from her eventful morning, she was the only person to do it.

The two triplets had already gone by the time he’d finally convinced Joey that she would just have to stay behind and wait, and taking Charles with him he quickly agreed the route he would take with Albert. Joey watched them go, Albert and Stephen turning one way and Jack and Charles the other, then turned around and exclaimed in horror. In the general excitement she hadn’t noticed just how tired Con looked, but the excitements of the day so far, as well as the jolt her shoulder had received, had left her feeling as if bed was the only possible option. Of course she wouldn’t admit as much, and offered to sit with Joey until Mike should be returned safely – which she was sure he would be – but this was ignored completely as she was hustled upstairs.

Once she’d had time to undress into her pyjamas, bathe her face with a cool flannel and settle herself comfortably, room darkened to try and stop the headache she could feel starting to pound behind her eyes, Felix appeared with a tray of food. She surveyed it happily, for Anna, well practiced in looking after invalids, had sent up some iced water, with wafers of chicken in delicate rolls and a small bowl of soup. Once she’d settled it comfortably on her lap, she turned to dismiss Felix and instead saw the look haunting his usually cheerful face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked at once.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, shuffling uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean to hurt you earlier, and I’m sorry for fighting and upsetting you.”

“I think you upset Claire more than me – I’ve dealt with a few fights in my time.” She gave a gentle laugh as she recalled one or two of the funnier altercations she’d been witness to, including the time Joey had chased Jack around the room with a cushion then tickled him until he begged for mercy. “It’s all forgotten, promise. Just don’t do it again.”

“I won’t,” he promised somberly, holding out his hand. The solemn way he shook hers nearly reduced Con to laughter again, but she managed to control herself.

“Good. Now, I can’t let you stay at the moment, I’m going to devour this – this sumptuous looking meal,” she explained, having to resort to slang in her enthusiasm to cheer Felix up. “Then I think I shall have a nap, but you can come back in an hour or two if you want, and if I’m awake you can bring in a pack of cards and we’ll have a few games with anyone else who wants to join in.”

Thus appeased, and reassured that he’d been forgiven, Felix skipped off, returning only to collect the tray again and plump Con’s pillows for her, which he insisted a gentleman should always do. Then he really did go sweetly off, leaving his sister buried under the duvet with her silent, wild mirth at his last statement. Soon enough she calmed down and, with a swift prayer that Mike would be returned to them safely – which sobered her considerably – she drifted into an easy sleep.


Meanwhile, Albert and Stephen had started off on their course, searching a different side of the road each for any clue of the missing boy. There was little danger of any harm befalling him when everybody on the Platz knew of the great doctor and his children, the only real threat came from Mike himself. If he chose to do something stupid – and Stephen did briefly tell Albert that he’d been known to climb into wild and dangerous places before – somewhere as deserted as this route, or any other, was likely to be in the middle of a scorching day there was little chance of help until they found him.

The tale had just finished when Albert suddenly stopped in the middle of the road, listening intently. They were just past the school grounds, for they had been walking as slowly as they dared in case they missed something; after a minute, Albert suddenly darted forwards to a small gap in the hedge it would be perfectly possible for a small boy to wriggle through. If there was any doubt that Mike had got in that way, it was eliminated by the scrap of cloth Albert retrieved from a bush, and which Stephen affirmed as matching the shirt Mike had been in that morning.

Still there was no sign of him, until Stephen also caught the curious rustling sound which had made Albert stop and glanced up. There, in the tree above, he could just see a figure, clinging perilously to a branch, though he evidently hadn’t spotted the two would-be rescuers beneath him yet. Stephen nudged Albert and pointed; the doctor took in the situation at a glance and promptly sent Stephen running in the opposite direction. Hopefully Jack wouldn’t have gone too far and would be reached easily. Alone, he looked around, but couldn’t see any other way into the grounds. With a mental apology to whoever had to tend to the hedges – for until he was inside he couldn’t possibly tell the danger Mike was in, and it was entirely possible he would fall at any moment – he pushed his way through the stout hawthorn. Thankfully, he had had the foresight to wear shorts on such a hot day, and only his legs were scratched by the thorns, and then not badly. Having overcome this barrier, he strode forwards until he was directly underneath the wriggling bundle halfway up the tree.

“Mike,” he called, and was rewarded by seeing a small, guilty face peering down at him through the branches. “Can you get down?”

“No,” called back the terrified boy. “I’m stuck.”

Author:  Alison H [ Fri Aug 14, 2009 1:11 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

It would have been interesting if he had been found on top of Mary-Lou ... sorry! Hope they get him down from the tree OK.

Author:  Abi [ Fri Aug 14, 2009 8:49 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Oh dear - I hope they manage to get him down all right! Thanks Ariel.

Author:  shazwales [ Sat Aug 15, 2009 4:42 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel enjoying this.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sat Aug 15, 2009 8:33 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Poor Mike! Very glad he's been found

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sat Aug 15, 2009 8:45 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for your comments :D

- X -

The look on his face had Albert biting his lip very hard not to burst out laughing. The tree was an old, sturdy one that was going to withstand a lot more than a small boy clambering around in its branches, but evidently Mike felt that the end of the world had come. The drop was an easy one, and if he could just persuade Mike to let go, he could catch him. There would be no way for a grown man to climb the tree easily, as he told the tiny form on the swaying branch.

As he had suspected, Mike refused to listen to reason, and instead nearly lost his head completely. Rather than talking him down, Albert was reassuring him that they would find a way to get him safely onto terra firma again, and until then no danger could befall him, when Jack arrived. He was flushed, hair and clothes messy from his run across the short, sweet turf to find his son, but he drew up short when he saw the latest situation.

“Michael Maynard!” he snapped, once he had regained control of himself. “Get down at once.”

“He can’t,” said Albert demurely, somehow managing to keep a straight face. “He’s stuck.”

Behind him, he could feel Stephen laughing silently and trying to hide his mirth from his family. He dearly wished that he also had someone much bigger and taller to hide behind while he let himself go, but sadly it wasn’t to be. With a wild effort he retained his self control, but it was only just, and if Jack hadn’t looked so furious he didn’t think he could have done it. To keep his mind off of everything, he moved to the other side of the tree, ready to catch Mike as soon as he was persuaded to let go.

It took Jack ten minutes to convince Mike that he would be safely caught. Privately, Albert thought that his stern tone of voice and threats of worse punishment when he did come probably didn’t help in the slightest, but he could see how angry his superior was, and he was wise enough to stay silent. Finally, Mike shifted slightly to one side, working up the nerve to let go. The next second, and amid much snapping of twigs and a shower of leaves over all three of those standing below, he dropped ungracefully into Jack’s arms.

A lifetime of doctoring had prepared his father for just how heavy he would be, luckily for Mike, for even with that knowledge Jack still staggered before he regained his balance. For a second time stood still, as he looked at Mike and Mike quailed before his look, then he set his son down and turned to Albert, who had joined Stephen in trying to make himself seem as small and unnoticeable as possible. He felt extremely sorry for Mike; the last time he’d seen a man so angry, it had been his headmaster, because he’d found it amusing to wind up a new teacher as much as possible.

“We’d better go,” he said softly to Jack, who nodded, unable to trust himself to speak yet. “I’ll see Stephen back to Freudesheim, then I’ve got a pile of work waiting for me.”

“Don’t be silly,” replied Jack. “It’s supposed to be a day off for you because you aren’t well. Anyway, Con didn’t look so good to me, if you’d just make sure she is ok now I’d be grateful. And I’m sure Joey will provide you with lunch – she’s a good host, whatever else she may be.”

There was real affection in his voice as he spoke, which Albert realised with admiration. Someday he hoped he would be allowed to talk in the same way about Con. With a nod of agreement, he turned around and waited for Stephen to show him out of the gate, guessing that he couldn’t just go back through the hedge again. It was only when they reached it that he realised the tiny gate he’d seen in the Freudesheim garden lead directly to the school, not that it would have made much difference on this occasion. Mike had decided to climb a tree at completely the opposite end of the garden, it would have taken far too long to race back and come the proper way.

“Poor Mike,” said Stephen softly, just before they went in, glancing back sympathetically. When he looked up at Albert, who was looking slightly amazed, he hastened to explain, “Oh, I don’t mean he doesn’t deserve it, he’s done this enough times to know what to expect. It’s just dad. He gets really, really angry, and usually he holds his temper for important things, so you know it’s bad, only he won’t show it properly. He won’t just shout at you. He sits you down, and really calmly explains to you why what you’ve done is wrong, and you can see the anger in his eyes but he just sounds – disappointed.”

“He sounds like the complete opposite of my father,” said Albert quietly. He didn’t talk much about his family, and especially his father, who had always been ashamed of having him for a son. “He was a ferocious old man.”

There didn’t seem to be anything which could be replied to that, really, and so Stephen remained silent, at least until they had reached the back door. Unbeknown to his family, he had been watching Con closely recently, and thinking over things. All of his sisters meant a lot to him, and he wouldn’t ever let anything of them get hurt, but he had been waiting for the best opportunity to say so. Now seemed as good as any other, and so before they went in he put a hand out and caught Albert’s arm. The doctor was surprised to see that he was shaking faintly.

“Look, I just want to say that if you ever hurt my sister, at all, you’ll regret it.”

He was possibly the least threatening person who had ever uttered that sentiment, but Albert had enough tact not to say so. Adopting a grave manner, he responded,

“Of course. I love her lots, I would never willingly do anything to hurt her.”

“Right,” nodded Stephen, not quite sure what else to say. That taken care of, he ushered Albert into the house, to go and find Joey and reassure her that Mike was safely in Jack’s care, and see if there was any Mittagessen left. Rescuing younger brothers was hard work.

Author:  Alison H [ Sat Aug 15, 2009 8:54 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That's interesting - what sort of son did Albert's dad want?

Author:  shazwales [ Sat Aug 15, 2009 7:03 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou,that was a lovely update.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Sun Aug 16, 2009 6:23 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

After the excitement, Freudesheim managed to remain fairly calm for the next couple of days, Joey having all of her hair-pins stolen so the girls could dress up and then nearly setting fire to the settee not counting. Mike had been condemned to an intensive course in cleaning, and was having to help Anna with the annual spring clean, which usually took place in autumn once the children had gone back to school, though she started early this year at Jack’s request. This didn’t put her in the sweetest of tempers, and between scrubbing floor and washing windows, Mike heard all about it.

Once he had been fed and duly thanked for tracking down the accident-prone young boy, Albert had gone home, and they hadn’t seen him since, though Jack assured them he was back at work and as well as ever. He’d purposefully missed Mike’s return home and the subsequent telling of the tale, though he was told at a later date of the love of collecting birds eggs, which had led to the chasing of an elusive thrush and the subsequent difficulty.

Everyone but Mike and Anna soon forgot what had happened in the general bliss of endless afternoons under the glaring sun, shaded by trees, with cool drinks and different paper games or tales from Con. Once they were even allowed a water fight, carefully supervised by Joey, who insisted that she needed to join in for the occasion to make sure, though the mess they made of the floor as they traipsed in appalled Anna. She reduced them all, even the mistress of the house, to a suitable chagrin, then relaxed and helped to towel dry the longer hair. But even her ministrations couldn’t do much for Joey’s impossibly long locks, and Jack was greeted on his return home by a spectacle he wasn’t expecting, even after so many years with Joey.

It was the next day that Albert came around again. It was his afternoon off, and he was supposed to be catching up with the never ending pile of paperwork which was the bugbear of all doctors, so that he was forced to come when he knew Jack wouldn’t be there. When he was admitted there was a gleam in his eye, and he held a certain envelope in his hand, though he had carefully held it behind his back until Con appeared. This was her news, he didn’t want to ruin her surprise to everyone else. As she sprang down the last step and into the hall to meet him, though, he drew it out from behind him.

“Someone was so keen to send their manuscript they forgot to include an address,” he said teasingly. He was rewarded with a blank glare which reminded him in a way words would have failed to do that he had been the one to post it, during their last day at the lake, and it was therefore his fault. “In any case, my brother’s sent his reply.”

She snatched eagerly at it, but was stopped from opening it by a sudden thought. It had been rather unfair on Margot over the holidays, and this was a big moment in her life. There was no reason that, while she shared it with Albert, her sisters couldn’t be there as well. The problem was how to let them know that it had come; if she alerted one of the children to the big occasion she would be mobbed by them all. The problem was solved by Felix sidling down the stairs, evidently eager to get some gossip.

“What’s that?” he asked, somewhat rudely, pointing at the letter. Con sighed, and blushed, but decided just to accept the inevitable. She would have to tell them the outcome at some point, anyway, and if Albert did know he would have got her away by herself if it was bad.

“Go and get everyone,” she instructed him. “We’ll be in the Salon. It’s a letter about possibly publishing one of my stories, if it’s been accepted.”

She had underestimated the power of children to eavesdrop, and consequently was surprised that Felix promptly declared that he knew that already, they all knew she'd sent one away, and rushed off. The first to come and join them on the comfortable sofas was Margot, and Con was sorry that it couldn’t just have been four of them, but the deed had been done now. To compensate for the unacknowledged slight she wriggled up so that Margot could sit next to her, nearly ending up on Albert’s lap in the process.

There were various shrieks from upstairs, and suddenly a waterfall of children spilled into the room, all wildly excited and demanding to know what the letter said. Fame itself was of little consequence to them, but the thought that Con could become as well known as their mother was exciting. They crowded around her eagerly, until Albert reminded them that she was still hurt, at which they sobered a little. Len helped to sit them all in various nooks, taking Claire on her lap, until at last Felix arrived with Joey, who was covered in soap suds to her elbows.

“Did I hear that there might be a new authoress in the house?” she asked breezily, as if it were an everyday occurrence. Con smiled.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Open it then!” cried her exasperated mother. Even now Joey had very little patience. There was a collective holding of breath as Con slit the top of the envelope, but seconds before she drew the paper out she thrust it at her sister childishly.

“You open it Margot,” she implored. “I can’t.”

Rolling her eyes, Margot did as she was instructed. It was a handwritten letter, the letters well-rounded but small, and the whole effect difficult to read. Slowly, as she got through the lines, Margot’s face fell in disappointment, and she exclaimed,

“Oh, they haven’t decided to publish your work!” Then, over the dismayed cries from all assembled, she added, “But they liked your style. He says – he says –“ she struggled over a little more of the text before concluding, “he says to write to him once you’re back in England, and you can arrange a meeting to talk about possible future works. They want to see how you get on.”

This was enough for the other children, who promptly set up three cheers, which Joey scathingly declared afterwards had probably been heard at the other end of the Platz, her own rowdy contribution included. Len spun Claire around the room, and Charles and Stephen hopped madly around the room, Charles nearly cracking his head open on the fireplace in the process. The only calm people in the room were Con and Albert, who were hugging each other ferociously. It was Albert who spoke first.

“I knew you could do it,” he whispered.

Author:  JB [ Sun Aug 16, 2009 6:59 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks, Ariel.

That was great.

Author:  Alison H [ Sun Aug 16, 2009 8:39 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That sounds hopeful, and it's much more realistic than Joey getting her first ever book published by the first people she sent it to!

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Mon Aug 17, 2009 12:41 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks, glad for Con and it was lovely of her to think of Margot

Author:  shazwales [ Mon Aug 17, 2009 7:04 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks really enjoyed that!

Author:  jmc [ Mon Aug 17, 2009 9:02 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel. That was lovely

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Mon Aug 17, 2009 11:20 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou for all of your comments! Provided the characters do as they're told, for once, this should be the penultimate update, although I can't guarantee anything. I can't seem to preview at the moment, so I apologise for any mistakes I've overlooked.

- X -

Soon, time had flown by, and university was beckoning again. None of the triplets were that sorry to be going back; on the last evening, at the family meal which had been organised for them, they thanked everyone for the brilliant holiday, but having experienced university it had been a long enough break for them. Margot wanted to get back to her friends, and to having fun; Len had been having a lot of serious conversations with Reg lately, and was now wearing the air that she couldn’t wait to get her own space and think about everything going on in her life; Con was, frankly, excited at meeting Albert’s brother and starting to really think about her future – and she had a new idea for a story she wanted to write.

That night, the triplets convened one last time before they went to bed, knowing that the following day they would be parted again. It was an early train that they were catching back, to make sure they were in London the same day. Len and Con had decided to go straight back to Oxford, even though it would be late by the time they got there, but Margot was breaking her journey by stopping with a friend for two days before they went back together.

By unspoken agreement they had met in Margot’s room, largely because the other two had been ready first and decided to ambush her. They watched as she struggled to remove the make-up it was now commonplace for her to be seen in, laughing at her for her efforts. While Len had been known to wear a little make-up on occasion, she was often too busy to bother with it, and Con wouldn’t have remembered half the time even if she did own any. Her writing took up far too much of her life for her to be bothered by anything but essentials, and if she hadn’t had Len close at hand she would probably have dropped most of her meals as well.

“It feels weird to be going back again,” she said contemplatively, once Margot had slid under the duvet and they had taken a seat on either side of her. “Not as scary as before, but it still feels like we belong here.”

“We’ll always be triplets,” said Margot unexpectedly. Of all of them, she needed this bond most, and it was something she found difficult to forget. Her carefree attitude was on the surface only, to try and disguise her true feelings, her uncertainty about what she had chosen to do. “And,” she added, more lightly, “if you ever need an exotic holiday, you can always come and visit me.”

“We have a couple more years together yet,” reassured Len, but there was something in her voice much deeper than the words themself. “We may not see each other a lot, but we’ll always write, and we’ll always love each other. I just wish one of us was coming back permanently; Mamma needs someone to look after her, and Papa’s grey enough as it is.”

Both her sisters giggled over her joke, but if she hoped they would pass over the first part of her sentence she was to be disappointed. Once they had subsided, with a thought for the sleeping children nearby, Con asked if this meant she wasn't planning on returning after her degree.

“Reg and I have talked,” said Len elusively. Then noticing the expression on her sisters’ faces, the worry they felt for her, she added, “We don’t know about the future yet, but he understands why I don’t want to return. He’s promised that we’ll make a decision nearer the time about what we want to do, but that he won’t just assume we’ll live up here. I think maybe we will for the first few years, so that I can teach as well and we can save up a little bit of money, then we’ll talk about moving. I couldn’t keep up my job once we have children, and life would be very dull up here without that. I don’t know if I want to leave Switzerland altogether, though, I like being close to everyone. We discussed maybe getting a chalet further down the mountain.”

“It sounds perfect,” smiled Margot. “I wish I was uncertain as you, with all those possibilities before me. That’s the trouble with having such a decided future, you know what you’re giving up, too.”

“You’ll be serving Him,” murmured Con, looking straight at Margot. “Whatever else you feel, surely that’s the most important thing of all.”

“You haven’t told us what you have planned yet,” interrupted Len. They both knew that Con hadn’t meant that to sound as tactless as she did, but as grown up as she was she still couldn’t help it sometimes, and the last thing they wanted was to part on an argument. Weary of Margot’s temper, she had made haste to change the subject. “I’m guessing it involves Albert in some degree.”

“I suppose that it must now,” mused Con. “Of course I’ll be in touch with his brother once I get back, and maybe I’ll end up getting something published in the future, I hope so. Albert did say that even if his brother decided not to publish me, he would pass my name on to a couple of companies he thought might.”

“We know that,” said Margot, “and don’t pretend either, we all know you will be a published author one day. What about you and Albert?”

At first, Con was inclined to reply that she didn’t know and leave it there, but tonight was a night to be open and honest, and she knew that Len and Margot were the only two people she could speak so frankly to about this. Of course she could always go to other family or friends if she needed to, but her sisters were unique, in that they didn’t even want the best for her. They just wanted to listen to her and give her the best advice they could. Everything else was unimportant when they knew each other so well.

“I don’t know. We were talking about it when Felicity came and interrupted, and it hasn’t been brought back up yet. Whatever happens, I think we’ll stick it out together as long as we can, and if it doesn’t work then at least we can say we tried. But Albert’s different from other men. He hasn’t known us for very long, and although he hasn’t said it I think he’s like me and wants to wait a little while before we start talking about serious commitment.”

There was a momentary silence, broken by Len, whose train of thought had brought back to her a memory of what had happened on the mountainside.

“We don’t ever seem to do things conventionally,” she laughed. “We both met our doctors before making them rescue us, and Mamma was the same. It must be an ‘us’ thing.”

“And I’m going to be the doctor who saves people,” added Margot. A shadow passed across her face, but then she looked up and smiled. “No-one could ever accuse us three of following trends, could they.”

Again silence descended, but this time it was deeper, seeming to signal the end in some way. The three sisters looked at each other, and although they were just going back to university, something had changed over the summer. They had all still seemed quite undecided when they went to university last year, but they had grown up in that time, and events had helped them to accept what their futures must be.

“I – I’d like to say our prayers together, like old times,” said Margot quietly. This old ritual had gradually stopped during their years of separation at the school, but without hesitation they all dropped to the floor now. It was Len who proposed that they pray they might always be happy, even if that happiness was brought to them in different ways.

Author:  Alison H [ Mon Aug 17, 2009 11:37 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Glad that Len and Reg have sorted things out, and that the three girls are all there for each other.

Author:  JS [ Mon Aug 17, 2009 5:07 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

That was a really nice and realistic family exchange, Ariel. Thanks.

Author:  shazwales [ Mon Aug 17, 2009 10:14 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel, that was written from the heart.

Author:  jmc [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 11:53 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thanks Ariel. It was lovely seeing the triplets sharing their thoughts together. Am happy that Reg now seems to be considering Len's feelings.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 4:39 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing

Thankyou to everyone who has commented on the drabble as it's gone on. I don't want to say goodbye to it now! :cry: Anyway, I hope this ending does it justice, and that you've all enjoyed it.

- X -

The next morning was chaotic, even by the usual standards of the Maynard family. None of them managed to have breakfast at the same time, as the girls kept disappearing to make sure that they’d packed something, and the boys, who had been eating at a superhuman pace, disappeared halfway through to huddle up by themselves in the attics. Nobody had any time to wonder what they were up to, however, for just as what might optimistically be described as the main breakfast finished Anna appeared to say that there was a gentleman at the door to see Con.

Joey had just reminded Len of something she had forgotten to pack, and she hurtled past her sister with a shriek to add it forthwith, ignoring Con squashing herself against the wall completely. It was somewhat miraculous that she made the hall unscathed, but she was pleased that she did when she saw Albert waiting for her. She had hoped that she would have the time to say goodbye properly before they had to leave, but Jack would be driving them all down to the station in half an hour and she’d given up on expecting him.

Now she threw herself into his arms and hugged him joyously, dragging him out into the garden where they could enjoy a modicum of privacy if they were brief. Already the temperature was rising rapidly, but their brisk pace soon lead them far enough away from the house to be able to talk. They stopped, and Albert pulled her now familiar form into his arms, stroking her hair back from her face softly. He had planned exactly what he wanted to say on his walk over here, but now he was looking at her the words somehow wouldn’t come.

“I guess this is goodbye,” she started softly. He shook his head wildly in vehement denial.

“It could never be goodbye. You’ll see me at Christmas, and then come back next summer so we can spend lots of time together. This is just temporary, and believe me if I could be with you I would be. But you have your degree to study for, and I have my career here. You do understand why I can’t give that up to come with you, don’t you?”

“Of course,” said Con. Her voice was sombre, as she struggled with the depth of the conversation they were having. “I wouldn’t expect you to try and make me stay here by – by proposing or something, so I can hardly expect you to move back to England, can I?”

“It’s as well for you,” said Albert, quite serious, “that I wasn’t building up to a proposal there, or you might have just ruined it. Luckily, I am all too aware of your views on marriage, and won’t be asking you for many years to come.”

“I don’t know whether to be offended or not,” she laughed, but as she snuggled into him he guessed that she wasn’t. They both understood that Con needed to find herself before she could even think of committing to someone else, and Albert respected that completely. But if she had asked him, he would have promised that he fully intended to get her down the aisle one day, when she was more ready for it. “I’ll miss you. Dad gave me your address – you have to promise to write all of the time.”

“I will,” he vowed solemnly. “As soon as I get a letter I’ll reply. And I’ll let you know about arrangements for Christmas. Maybe we could get rooms just outside of London, somewhere, and have most days to ourselves.”

“That would be nice,” smiled Con. She shut her eyes and leaned in against him, breathing in the smell of licorice which she remembered so vividly from their first meeting, so she didn’t see the look Albert gave her. He had his own plans for how to be with her, once her university course had finished, but he had decided after the failed attempt before not to let her know until much sooner the time.

It had always been his intention one day to retire to a lovely country village somewhere and take up the doctoring job for the district, but until he met Con it had always been a faint dream for some intangible time on the horizon. Now he loved to picture a life for them together, in a rose-covered old cottage with three bedrooms and a large garden, a rustic housekeeper to make sure things were looked after while Con wrote her novels under the shady trees and he helped people with their ailments and complaints. There had always been something missing in the dream before, but Con had filled it, and made it seem much more real somehow.

“I’d better go and start getting my luggage down,” she said regretfully, tearing herself away. They held hands as they walked back across the lawn, still silent. Something had passed between them in the hug previously which had said goodbye far more effectively than anything else could have. It was a matter of months before they would see each other again, and until then they had so many memories to keep them together.

As soon as they got back to the house, Con was dragged away to be presented with the leaving present the boys had been making for the triplets. Each received a desk-tidy made of different types of wood, all three made by the boys themselves, who looked immensely proud of themselves. Thanks and kisses were bestowed all round, then they really did have to go. Fortunately Len and Reg had said their goodbyes the day before, and they climbed into Minnie and settled themselves comfortably while Con was being torn away from Albert.

Then they really were off, away from the Platz and back to the reality of university life. A huge crowd of people stood at the gate to wave them off, Claire the most easily recognisable as Joey held her over her head to wave them off. Albert stood at the front of the group, completely still until Con leaned out of the window and blew him a kiss. He caught it, and waved to her, leaning forwards eagerly for one last glance.

“You’d better marry her one day,” said a voice softly behind him, which he recognised as Joey’s. “My daughters deserve the best.”

“Oh, I think I might just do that,” he promised.

Author:  Elder in Ontario [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 4:49 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

A *most* satisfactory ending to a delightful story - thanks, Chubby Monkey. Any thoughts of a sequel, set perhaps a year after Con graduates, where all these dreams might start coming to fruition? Oh and some snippets of how Con and Albert's relationship grows in the meantime?

Author:  Joanne [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 4:51 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Thank you for this, I have really enjoyed reading it (although I haven't commented much) and I like the way it all turned out for the best. Shame we won't see more of Con and Albert - or will we?

Author:  JS [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 5:02 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

So glad it didn't end with a proposal - but be nice to read more about this universe in the future?

Thanks Ariel.

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 5:03 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Elder in Ontario wrote:
Any thoughts of a sequel, set perhaps a year after Con graduates, where all these dreams might start coming to fruition? Oh and some snippets of how Con and Albert's relationship grows in the meantime?


No, put those plot bunnies away from me! I have a most satisfactory plan for my writing time at the moment, thankyou. Never say never, though... NaNo is coming up soon :wink:

Author:  lexyjune [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 6:23 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Sorry this is finished, really enjoyed it and would love to see a sequel. Thank you.

Author:  abbeybufo [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 6:45 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Enjoyed this all through, Ariel, though haven't commented much, I'm afraid.

*Joins calls for a sequel when you have time ... :lol: *

Author:  PaulineS [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 6:59 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Thanks Ariel. A sequel after Nano perhaps!

Author:  Nightwing [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 8:54 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

I haven't commented much, but I've been following this story all the way through and I'm glad everything has worked out for everyone - particularly Len and Reg. You write all your characters so sympathetically, too, which is wonderful. I'm pretty sad to see this finished :(

Author:  Alison H [ Tue Aug 18, 2009 9:33 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

That was a lovely ending to a lovely drabble - thanks ChubbyMonkey :D .

Author:  jmc [ Wed Aug 19, 2009 9:30 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Thanks Ariel. Have really enjoyed reading this.

Author:  hac61 [ Wed Aug 19, 2009 11:30 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Now what am I going to read with breakfast?

I don't know where you get your ideas from but I love the way you express them. More of something when you have time, please.


hac

Author:  ChubbyMonkey [ Wed Aug 19, 2009 3:57 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

hac61 wrote:
Now what am I going to read with breakfast?

I don't know where you get your ideas from but I love the way you express them. More of something when you have time, please.


hac


I blame the bunny warren under my bed, personally :wink:

Author:  Abi [ Thu Aug 20, 2009 11:49 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Lovely ending - thanks, Ariel!

Author:  shazwales [ Fri Aug 21, 2009 1:16 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Thanks Ariel,have really enjoyed reading this!

Author:  janetbrown23 [ Fri Aug 21, 2009 7:31 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Please make sure you take the bunnies to Uni with you.

Author:  Fiona Mc [ Sun Aug 23, 2009 11:59 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Really enjoyed this and would love to see a sequel. Thanks Ariel

Author:  charli [ Sun Aug 23, 2009 1:52 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Thank you!
I think this is brilliant and have loved reading it!
:)

Author:  Elbee [ Tue Aug 25, 2009 10:42 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

I've really enjoyed this. Thanks, ChubbyMonkey.

Author:  Chris S [ Wed Aug 26, 2009 2:57 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Thanks Ariel, I have really enjoyed this, as indeed I enjoy all your stories.

Author:  mush [ Thu Oct 08, 2009 5:17 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

I've only recently found this site and this is the foirst story i've reade and i loved it!

Please please write a sequal!

Author:  Smile :) [ Sat Oct 10, 2009 10:25 am ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Just finished reading all of this and have really enjoyed it. Nice to see that the triplets are growing up and learning to cope with life away from the platz as well.

Author:  laurelbay [ Sat Nov 28, 2009 7:30 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

This is brilliant, its nice to see the triplets not surrounded by school!!!! :D

Author:  aitchemelle [ Sun Nov 29, 2009 8:21 pm ]
Post subject:  Re: Behind Her Writing - Complete

Just found this and read the lot! Loved it!! :)

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