Chapter VI
As promised Ann returned as soon as she had talked to the occupant’s downstairs. Anne was happy to see her.
“Your aunt will come up to see you in a bit. She’s drinking tea with the others right now.” Ann told her, and the brunette bobbed her head in affirmation,
“Good.”
“Oh, do you need anything? A bread roll, or some broth, maybe both?” Ann quirked an eyebrow and Anne, though she probably should be hungry, hadn’t time to think of that right now, so shook her head carefully,
“No, thank you. I was wondering though, if I could have my journals?”
“I’m not sure you’re supposed to go about it that way. If you read about it, your mind might conjure memories, and paint the pictures but it might not be the real memories. Couldn’t I send Dr Belcombe a letter? He is after all excellent with this type of injuries.” Ann pleaded, she didn’t want anything to get in the way of Anne’s recovery and Anne decided to let it rest for now and smiled instead.
“Of course, good thinking. I was just about to suggest a letter to Dr Belcombe myself. There’s no one else I’d trust with my brain. Well, unless Georges Cuvier might make the trip.” Anne joked, and Ann tittered,
“He might be busy. I’ll write Dr Belcombe, and if he cannot sort you out – it might well do to try and write your old tutor.”
“Oh no, he’s dead, Ann! It was only a joke. I don’t think we should contact him on the other side.” Anne humoured and Ann blushed slightly, she should’ve remembered that he was passed, had been so for more three years. But her embarrassment was soon forgotten when Anne took hold of her hand,
“Will you help me pen the letter to Dr Belcombe? The sooner the better I should think.”
“I’ll fetch paper, ink and a pen in your study – I’ll be back before you can say ‘antidisestablishmentarianism’” Ann called behind her shoulder before hurrying out, Anne furrowed her eyebrows,
“What? Anti- what? I didn’t hear what you said!”
It was fruitless, Ann couldn’t hear her, so Anne waited, but not for long. Ann came rushing in the room again with the things needed, shutting the door behind her elegantly, well as elegantly as one could with ones foot. Ann smirked at her,
“Now did you manage to say it before I came back?”
“I didn’t even hear what you said.” Anne muttered, and Ann laughed at her, sitting down in the chair,
“You are such a sore loser! Even when it isn’t a real competition.”
“If it were, you would’ve been disqualified for mumbling incoherently.” Anne retorted and Ann couldn’t help but giggle, her wife really was an incredibly sore loser. Ann composed herself though and sat up straight in the chair, with the writing desk on her knee.
“Now, we need to write a ‘well-worded letter’.” Ann said seriously, but there was still a small smile playing her lips. Anne sighed back against the pillows, her head was muddled and upset her, but she tried concentrating on helping Ann compose this letter to Steph.
“Just, tell him what’s happened. About the accident – I don’t even know what happened, something about a horse? Then tell him that I woke up with absolutely no memory of the last three years. Say to him that I would consider it a great favour if he would come here to have a look himself – that we will pay him generously for all his trouble.” Anne massaged her temples, thinking it might help relieve some of the pain. Ann watched her attentively, wishing she could do more to help her.
“I’ll make sure to write that.” Ann replied, and put the pen to the paper, opening with a few courtesy lines. He was a good man, and he had been of much help to herself in the past.
“What did happen?” Anne asked suddenly, and Ann looked up from the paper, her tongue between her lips, eyebrows raised,
“Hm, sorry, what did you say?”
“I asked what happened to me?” Anne repeated and Ann let the pen fall between her fingers, her expression suddenly sad and upset,
“You were thrown off a horse, well my horse, Jack. He must have been spooked by something and gone completely mad and then managed to throw you off, down a stony path. I don’t think I have ever been more afraid than when he came back without you. I set off to look for you – um, they thought I was being silly because you are always alright. Then I found you, unconscious, with that deep gash in the back of your head, blood…” Ann trailed off, she became paler, the mere remembrance of Anne in that state, lying in her own blood – was almost too much to bear for Ann. Anne’s hand reached out for hers, and she stroke her over the knuckles sweetly,
“I’m here now. I’m fine, well obviously I lack some memories but other than that.”
“It was horrifying!” Ann trembled, tears rolling down her pale cheeks, “I thought I’d lose you. You were so still, so pale… so unlike yourself. It was frightening. It seemed as though you had already…”
“Put down the writing things, Ann.” Anne told her firmly, and Ann followed her orders, whilst shaking.
“Come here.” Anne patted the space beside her, and Ann sat down carefully, still trembling with tears and relived fear and anxiety. Anne, as best she could, sneaked one of her arms around her shoulders, pulling her towards her, letting her rest against her shoulder.
“Don’t leave me.” Ann snivelled into her chest and Anne ran her hands up and down her arm,
“I’m right here. Don’t you worry.”
“When I saw you lying there – I… I collapsed onto my knees next to your body, I tried to put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding. I must have screamed – I don’t remember doing it, but people came running. Helping me get your body back to Shibden. Marian forced me away to clean off my hands and dress of your blood whilst Dr Kenny dressed your wound and stopped the bleeding.” Ann rambled into her chest, and Anne listened calmly, making mental notes that would go into her journal when she could finally get her hands on it again. Anne kissed the blonde over the hair, trying to comfort her, and ground her through her evident anxiety. Anne supposed it were days of pent up emotions and worry. She didn’t know how she would handle someone she loved almost leaving her – probably not very well. Anne was softer than most would ever know or understand. There was a knock on the door, and Ann sat up, and removed herself from Anne’s side – and she felt the loss tremendously.
“Yes?” Anne called out, and the door opened to reveal her aunt. Ann gave the woman a smile, picking up the writing things again, preparing to leave the room to finish and send the letter and also give them; Aunt Anne and Anne, a moment alone.