Unforgettable

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Matthew Cuthbert and Anne Shirley drove along the Avenue. Or as Anne had so renamed it, and Matthew now found himself thinking of it more often than not, the White Way of Delight. They were heading to the Bright River train station to meet a young friend of the Cuthberts. She was coming to visit from practically the other side of the country.

As usual, Anne was chattering on, and this helped Matthew to relax. In fact, the relief he had felt when she had asked to accompany him, and when Marilla had given her permission, had been almost visible on his shy face.

"Did she ever stay in my old room, Matthew?" asked a very interested Anne of the person in question. "Oh, Matthew, did she?"

Anne was warming to the idea.

"I can just imagine it, the sweet little girl's face poking out from under the covers."

"Well now, I don't believe she ever did, least not so as I can remember," answered Matthew somberly.

He hated to burst Anne's bubble.

"She was such a little frail slip of a thing that Marilla kept her in her own room of a night. Marilla declared she was so thin that we didn't have blankets enough to keep her from freezing to death."

Matthew grinned sheepishly.

"Don't know that I ever really believed that though, Anne. I always reckoned the poor little thing was just too afraid to sleep alone in our strange old house."

Matthew chuckled as he remembered. He even managed a small shy smile.

"Why, I declare she was a skinnier thing then you were, Anne, when you first came. Course she was only about six, and that Father of hers. Well, let's just say he didn't care much for anyone at all general like, and hated his own little girl in particular. Blamed her for her poor Mama's death, I reckon."

He added.

The only time Matthew Cuthbert ever got riled about anything was the mistreatment of little children, and the only two people that the painfully shy farmer would let see his state of mind were his sister Marilla and Anne Shirley.

Matthew could see that Anne's imagination, which was almost never at a low tide, was whirling. Oh, he did hope the two young women would get along well enough. But, of course they would, he told himself. Why, who wouldn't get along with his Anne. Well, not counting the Pye's, of course

"Tell me again that story of how you first found her in the hay, Matthew," implored Anne.

"Well now, I told you it twice already, Anne," protested Matthew feebly. "and I know you ain't forgotten it so soon."

But as he always did, Matthew gave in to Anne's plea, and was again regaling her with his tale as the Sorrel Mayor jogged on towards the station.

Amanda Randall clasped her hands in front of her, and sat rigid and upright on the edge of her seat. She could barely manage to sit still as her train made its way towards the Bright River station.

It had been years since she had seen Avonlea in general, and Green Gables in particular. Going on thirteen years in fact, and her excitement was almost tangible.

She had loved the homestead so very much as a little girl, and she had also never forgotten the kind brother and sister who lived there. Tall, bearded and stooping, wonderfully gentle and painfully shy Matthew, and tall, thin and grim-faced, practical, but kindly Marilla Cuthbert. Folks in that little corner of Avonlea always called the two a bit odd, but they were still very highly respected by their neighbors for all that.. None of that mattered to the nervous and excited girl. Amanda Randall, who was known to most of her closest friends nowadays as Mandy, had loved them with all her heart.

Still, she wondered if she were doing the right thing by spending this time at Green gables. The plan she had come up with had seemed quite sensible at the time, but the closer the train drew to her destination, the more the girl began to have doubts. They were that niggling, troublesome, nagging sort of doubts, too, the kind that gnaw at ones soul and simply will not go away.

Will this work, and do I even want it to work? She asked herself for the millionth time. And for the millionth time, she had no definite answer. But, it was far too late to turn back now, for she could see the station just ahead.

The train stopped, and Amanda rose from the seat a bit stiffly. She was a slim slip of a girl, small of build and slight of frame, with big blue eyes, a little button nose, and a full generous-looking mouth. Her hair was a long thick lustrous brown which would normally have cascaded down her back in intricate braids reaching almost to her waist. But for today it was twisted up in to a severe bun, and pinned to the top of her head. Both her dress and her shoes were as plain as plain could be, and the girl had a shy and anxious air about her that was slightly reminiscent of the little six year old child she had been when she had left Avonlea far behind years ago.

The difference between that long ago child and the young woman was striking in that the child Amanda had been then was limping very badly, and had had tears streaming down her pale cheeks when she had been sent to live with her Grandmother, who lived practically on the other side of Canada. That little child had been afraid of her own shadow, and had clung determinedly to Matthew Cuthbert's hand as he had handed her over to the kindly old lady chaperone that was charged with escorting her to her Grandmother's home.

Just the remembering of that scene caused the now grown-up Amanda to blush, but she could take some small comfort in knowing that she had not actually begun to sob out loud until the train had left the station, and she could no longer see Matthew waving shyly to her as she was carried far away from Avonlea. At least she had managed to spare Matthew Cuthbert, if not her six year old self, from that embarrassment.

The train screeched to a halt, and Amanda collected her bag and swayed a little on her feet. Her knees felt all wobbly so that she tripped a bit while stepping down from the train.

"Easy there, Miss," the station Master steadied her.

She thanked him shyly then looked around. The first thing she saw rushing towards her was a lively looking redheaded girl.

"Amanda Randall?" the girl cried. "Are you Amanda? Oh, from Marilla's and Matthew

S descriptions, you must be Amanda."

The older girl found herself smiling at the boisterous younger girl.

"Yes, I'm Amanda," she replied when the girl stopped to draw a breath.

"Oh, excellent! We are all ready for you at Green Gables. It's so exciting! Marilla and Matthew don't have much company. Well, I don't remember them to have had any company at all come to stay since I've been there, but—"

The girl chattered on for some time before she remembered to introduce herself.

"I'm Anne Shirley, by the way. And, I'm sure you remember Matthew."

He had come up behind the chattering girl so quietly that Amanda had not seen him at first. When she did, her face felt all hot, and she feared her knees would start to tremble again.

He was almost just as she remembered him. Oh, yes, certainly many years older and a little more stooped. But his hair and that shy kind face, that was just as she remembered.

It was deeply troubling, how ill he looked, though. Amanda was determined to grill Marilla or Anne about his health at her first opportunity.

"I'll take your bag, Miss Randall," Matthew said very shyly as he held out a work worn hand.

Amanda winced a little at Matthew's formal tones, but she allowed him to take the bag with only a murmured , "Thank you, Mr. Cuthbert."

Miss Randall? Mr. Cuthbert? As Matthew helped both girls in to the buggy, Anne Shirley watched the two of them, her ever active mind whirling. Since Amanda seemed almost as shy as Matthew, Anne knew she had her work cut out for her. Her fertile imagination was already blossoming with ideas and most wonderful possibilities. Of course, the first thing she would have to do was put a stop to that Miss and Mister nonsense. But Anne was confident that she could have them, or at least Amanda, on a first name basis by the time they arrived back home.

TBC