Chapter Text
The top of the Minster came into view as Anne stood by the train door as it pulled into Halifax station. The further north she had travelled the more she could feel the cold permeate deep into her bones through the thin layers that she wore. Thanks to her heavy hiking boots her feet were still warm, but the two t-shirts and semi-thick hoodie were barely keeping the cold at bay. She was grateful that all the harsh winters she had endured had helped build her tolerance to the freezing temperatures. At least it wasn’t snowing, not yet anyway.
She stepped off the train and lifted her backpack onto both shoulders as she took a deep breath of the crisp wintry air as she pulled the hood of her hoodie over her head to try and retain some heat. She would need to buy a suitable hat. She smiled as she saw her warm breath escape her lips as she climbed up the steps from the platform. It felt good to not be perspiring as soon as you got out of the shower, though she would actually give anything to be under the refreshing water right now.
Remarkably she didn’t feel jetlagged, despite crossing numerous time zones. Dig sites of varying levels of comfort had meant over the years she had developed the ability to sleep anywhere. A comfy seat on a plane was luxurious compared to some places she’d had to lay her head so she was well rested. Still, she had been travelling for over twenty-four hours since she had opted not to stop anywhere. As invigorating as the cool air was, she couldn’t wait for a bath and fresh clothes.
The flag with St George’s cross was flying high above the dark Minster bell tower just as she remembered. She could hear the sound of the brass band playing in The Piece Hall. Without having to see it, she knew the carousel would be there, the word ‘Christmas’ written in lights on the eastern facade, and the large tree reaching up to the library spire. It had been almost a year since she had been home but she found comfort in how so much always remained the same, even the ridiculous short cut up to the Hall that she was gazing up at.
The cobblestones put most off, including Marian - especially if it had been raining. However, she prided herself on being able to make it up the Bank whatever the weather. She refused to take the bus up from the town centre since she said it always took her through that awful roundabout near North Bridge and stopped on the wrong side of the estate. She flicked her wrist and noted the time, fifteen minutes ought to do it.
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“Choirs will be singing Silent Night, Christmas carols by candlelight. Please come home for Christmas. Please come home for Christmas. If not for Christmas by New Year's night.” The melodic lyrics of the familiar song filtered into the library from the kitchen. James must have opened the door to the hallway for something. Ann allowed the words to wash over her, of course it would be those ones that caught her ear out of the dozens of Christmas songs that had been playing on the radio all day.
She stood by the window looking out at Crow Nest and wished it had snowed. It always felt more magical when it did, she’d have an excuse for locking herself indoors if it had. She had watched the seasons change from this spot as the leaves had turned from green to red to gold until they finally fell to the ground. She had hoped that the longing ache inside of her would change with the season but it hadn’t. As she looked out at the grounds the memory of walking there with Anne when she was younger came back to her. She knew that what she still wanted the most was a repeat of the day on the cliff in Bali, when she didn’t know when or if Anne would be back and then all of a sudden, there she was. She knew it was too much to ask for a similar miracle to happen.
A small robin flew from the branch of the barren blackthorn tree onto the stone steps below. Its song reminded her of the sound she used to wake up to each morning. There was a beautiful Bali myna bird with pure white feathers with black tips that nested in the gardens of the school. The feathered mohawk and bright blue skin around its eyes made it look like a little punk rocker. Before dawn it would fly down to the hut and start its wonderful song, it was the perfect alarm clock.
Ann could almost feel the warmth of the Balinese sun on her bare back as the birdsong filled her ears. She closed her eyes as she tried to keep hold of the feeling. She missed the sound of the crashing waves of the ocean upon the shore. She tilted her chin upwards and shivered as she felt the ghost of a kiss brush against the back of her neck. She felt her breath catch as her own arms wrapped around her waist in the same possessive hold she used to love waking up to each morning.
“Penny for them? Or I suppose a silver sixpence since it’s Christmas.” She spun around as she heard Elizbeth’s voice. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard her enter the room. She turned to face her, “Sorry?” Elizabeth sat down on the sofa sideways, she lent her arms along the back as she looked over at Ann, “How much money goes in a Christmas pudding these days? Nevermind, I’m sure James will have it all sorted.” She noted the slightly distant look on Ann’s face and wondered whether she’d heard anything she’d said, “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing,” Ann lied as she came round to sit on the other end of the sofa, “Just wondering when we’ll get the first snow.” It was easier than telling Elizabeth again that she was thinking about Anne, though she was sure her sister knew. Anne was all she could think about ever since she got back from Bali three months ago. Even without intending to, almost every conversation she’d had somehow circled back to her.
“You could go over to Shibden.” Elizabeth’s shrewd gaze was focused on her when she looked up at the mention of Anne’s home. A tentative smile formed on her lips, at least she wasn’t responsible for steering the conversation towards Anne this time. “It’s not like you’re not there often enough.”
Ann’s mouth fell open, “How do you-”
“Annie, I may be in Scotland most of the time but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on with you.” Ann’s head fell slightly as she looked down at her lap. “I still worry.” She could see the small frown lines forming on her forehead, “I know you don’t need me to. But you’re my little sister.” As she continued to scrutinise Ann’s profile she could see the burgeoning scowl turn into a more manageable pout.
“This is Anne Lister after all.” As Ann’s head turned sharply Elizabeth retreated as she held her hands up in surrender, “Wait!” She thought fast as she didn’t want to give Ann an opportunity to launch into one of the familiar statements in defence of Dr Anne Lister that she’d had to hear whenever the family were gathered. “I’m not talking about the money, what you do with your inheritance has always been your decision.” She heard Ann scoff lightly. “The family knows that now,” Elizabeth added. Ann appeared to calm at that.
She could understand her ire. Over the summer she had had to wade through call after call from Christopher and Jeremiah, though he was only doing Christopher’s bidding. They dared not make any formal accusations about how the Foundation was allocating its funds, but as a board member he could make enough noise to make the others question whether there was a genuine conflict of interest. With Ann still in Bali she had not been able to defend herself, but she had done plenty of that when she returned. She couldn’t wait until Aunt Nelly made the announcement and Catherine was appointed to the board in his place.
Elizabeth scooted closer to Ann and gave her a gentle nudge, “There’s something far more important than the money.” Ann’s furrowed brow reminded Elizabeth why she had thought it was so important to talk to her. She had changed so much in the last few years, yet in so many ways she was still her little sister. She lifted her hand and tapped a single finger against Ann’s chest, just over her heart. Ann tilted her head downwards to see where Elizabeth had pointed. As it was so often the case, her sister was right.
She had tried to delay Ann’s return as long as possible, but Ann had forged her own path in the Foundation and she had felt the effect of her extended absence. She had been mired in the politics of running the Foundation for so long and she knew that her decisions had often been clouded by those concerns rather than the actual needs of the projects asking them for assistance. Ann hadn’t been. She still saw the potential and merit in each of the proposals that came across her desk. She was the future of the Foundation and Elizabeth knew it.
Before Bali, Ann had told her that she wanted to take on more with the Foundation but knew she had to prove herself. Being able to help local community projects like Anne had with the school had inspired her to seek out similar projects that might not have the knowledge or capability to apply to organisations like the Foundation. She wanted to change that. She had done all she could remotely, but Ann knew in order to make a big impact she needed to be in the same meeting room as the people who made the decisions.
When Elizabeth had called her at the end of the summer she could hear the underlying reason for her call, and knew it was time for the bubble that she and Anne had created to burst. Anne still had so much to do at the site in Bali and there was the potential for another dig in Cambodia that she had gotten excited about. It had been reluctantly agreed that it was time for her to return to Halifax.
Both of them had been realistic about what that meant for them. Neither wanted nor believed a long-distance relationship could be sustainable. Their lives had set them both on paths that didn’t cross. The long hours their work demanded would make any relationship difficult, but with the added time difference it made even the basic logistics of organising a phone call complicated. It could be manageable if it was short term but they couldn’t be certain when they could steal more than a few weeks at most together. It wasn’t enough for either of them.
“Are you going to go to Shibden?” Elizabeth’s question brought her back to the conversation they’d been having, “Isn’t she home today?” She knew the answer already, it was written in big letters on the calendar in the kitchen and Ann had become increasingly distracted with what she presumed were thoughts of Anne. “Have you heard from her?” Ann’s shoulders sank as she shook her head. Elizabeth tried to mask her feelings as she noted her disappointment, Ann would already be dealing with enough. “I’m sure you will soon,” she added, trying to remain optimistic. “I’d better go check on my children to see whether any of the family china is still intact.”
She gave Ann's shoulder a small squeeze as she rose from the sofa, “I’m sure she’ll call once she’s settled.” Ann looked up and tried her best to smile. She hadn’t told her that the only reason she knew Anne was coming home was because Susan had mentioned it when they had exchanged a few texts after she had thanked her for the Christmas hamper that she had sent to the school. They’d talked about the possibility but she knew how busy Anne was, how busy she always was, and she didn’t want to add to the pressure she was already feeling from her family to come home and visit.
When she’d found out she hadn’t told her she hoped that Anne had kept it a secret in order to surprise her, but part of her feared that she hadn’t told her because she hadn’t intended on seeing her. She hadn’t heard much from Anne in the last month and she worried that the distance had driven them too far apart. She’d managed to avoid crossing paths with her for years without even trying. An awkward conversation about how she thought it was time for them to cut their losses and move on would be much easier thousands of miles away than face to face. That was more than enough reason to not tell her she’d be home.
Once Elizabeth had left she pulled out her phone from her pocket and opened her messages. Still nothing. Part of her told her that she shouldn’t expect anything else. The word ‘DRAFT’ stared back at her next to Anne’s name. She opened the message, the unsent words staring back at her as she asked herself again whether she had the right to even say them. She turned her head towards Shibden, the words falling from her lips like a quiet prayer, ‘I miss you. Please come home for Christmas.’
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Anne ran her index finger along the side of the steaming hot cup of tea that she held in her hands as she looked out of the large window in the central room of the Hall. Her still damp hair sat on her shoulders. She felt much better after a long shower and a change of clothes, though it would take a moment to adjust to having to wear quite so many layers. She was glad her old clothes still fit well. The slim black jeans clung to her legs as they used to. Along with the log fire she had started when she came downstairs in the large fireplace, the brushed cotton black long-sleeved henley top provided her with enough warmth.
It was barely 4pm but the sun had already disappeared over the horizon. It didn’t matter, she had stared out of this window enough times to know what was out there. The pond that sat at the bottom of the steps below from the Hall hadn’t yet frozen over. Past that the tunnel into Cunnery Woods and further on until the border of the estate met Lightcliffe. There, beyond Shibden, she was aware that there was more now - there was Ann.
When Ann had returned to Halifax they had been able to maintain a regular phone call at least once a week, but they had soon become frustrated by not being able to see each other’s faces. The internet connection at the school was often patchy and the pixelated image that kept freezing did nothing to stem the yearning Anne felt. The sound of Ann’s voice was too far away and after every call she felt the absence even more. Soon it was easier to use conflicting schedules and time differences as a reason to say they’d call when they could. It had been over a month since they last exchanged more than a text message or a hurried email. It was only mildly easier to get through the day if she tried to push her memories of Ann out of her mind than if she was constantly hoping that she might hear from her.
Anne had wanted someone to spend her evening hour with and thought she had found that in Ann. Only it hadn’t worked when there was a seven hour difference and almost eight thousand miles. She rubbed her temple and sighed heavily as she thought about how foolish she had been. Her feelings for Ann had allowed her to ignore the reality of their situation for longer than she should have. They had always been on borrowed time. As someone who was so meticulous about time keeping, Anne knew it would catch up with them there. Standing back here at Shibden, she knew it had caught up to her again.
She had come home to make a decision. With Nelly Rawson’s intervention she had come to an understanding with Christopher and the artefacts he had used as decorations had either been donated to the National Museum or had been placed in protective displays. Ann’s generous donation had meant that they had been able to make repairs to the school and also buy some other much needed resources without using the money for the dig. She had been able to secure additional funding and there had been some exciting discoveries at the sites in Bali that had been a welcomed distraction. For the first time in years she did not feel bogged down with the bureaucracy that had too often come with her job. She was discovering things again and her work made her feel alive. Her life had never felt emptier than after Ann had left.
As with all things that had proven the most difficult in her life, Anne had the answers. She just didn’t like them very much. If she wanted to be with Ann she would have to give up Bali. It was too far for them to be able to maintain any semblance of a relationship. Not just Bali though, any expeditions that took her away from Ann would be unlikely. She had followed Mariana to Asia, and now she was contemplating following Ann back to Halifax. She didn’t know if she was ready to give that life up. That was the decision she had returned to Shibden to make, and to ask the question of the only person who could provide her the answer, did Ann want her to?
“I’m putting a load on if you’ve got any laundry.” Anne blinked as Marian moved into her periphery vision. She stood waiting for an answer with the laundry basket resting on her hip. “No...thank you. I just have the clothes I wore on the plane.”
“Is that it? You didn’t bring anything else?” Anne’s eyes narrowed, how was it that Marian always managed to drag her back to reality with her inane questions? “None of my clothes are suitable for winter, Marian. Why would I carry them halfway across the world when I have a wardrobe full of clothes in my room?” Marian huffed as she turned on her heel before heading out of the room as she continued to mutter to herself.
Aunt Anne smiled to herself as Marian passed her bemoaning Caligula’s return. It was good to see that things between the two of them were still the same. She had missed the sound of their sisterly bickering reverberating around the Hall. There had been a buzz around the estate the last few days as they prepared for Anne’s return. She hadn’t given them much notice but Aunt Anne was glad that she had finally decided to come home. When she arrived she could see the weariness in her eyes and knew that her niece had needed to be home as much as she had wanted her to be there.
“Your sister has missed you.” Anne felt the corners of her lips pull themselves up into a smile when she heard her aunt’s kind voice behind her. She turned and found her taking a seat on the large ornate wooden sofa she’d had handmade and shipped over from India as a gift a few years ago. The cushion along the bench was a new addition, no doubt Marian’s idea, though it had probably been for her aunt’s comfort so she had been willing to overlook it. “You’d do well to remember that.”
“If I’m too nice to her aunt she’ll think I’d lost my mind somewhere in a rainforest in Borneo,” Anne joked as she took a seat next to her.
“You’re probably right dear.” The sound of her aunt’s laughter was one of the things Anne had missed the most. She shifted herself lower and rested her head on her shoulder. She felt the tension start to ease from her tired muscles as she closed her eyes and allowed herself to really breathe for the first time in months.
After a few moments she felt a light scratch on her head. She opened her eyes slowly and felt a lot more relaxed than she had. Her aunt’s presence had a magic way of calming her. She thought to herself that perhaps tomorrow they could go for a walk and she could ask her about what she should do, “What were you planning to do about Miss Walker?” Anne’s mouth fell open in surprise at her aunt’s question.
Anne sat up and turned so that she was facing her aunt, “She’s been home for months.” She nodded thoughtfully as she wondered what route the conversation would take, “She pops in every now and again, you know, to check on me.” That was her aunt’s subtle way of telling her that whatever it was she was planning on hiding, she already knew. Anne had no doubt of that.
She had been careful not to mention Ann on the phone too much to her aunt, even before she had returned to Halifax and particularly since then. She had never wanted to become one of those people who were completely wrapped up in their relationship to the point where they became unable to talk about anything else. Her aunt never pried, only ever adding to the end of every goodbye a request to send Ann her love. It was a month into their relationship that she discovered the reason her aunt never had to ask about Ann was because they were talking to each other almost every week whilst Anne was at work.
Ann had asked her if she minded her talking to her aunt, to which Anne had replied that her aunt would probably fly all the way there and give her a piece of her mind if she did. She couldn’t be happier that Ann had a friendship with her aunt, she knew that her relationship with her own aunt was much more strained so she was glad that she had a maternal figure that she could talk to. “Well?” Anne smiled sheepishly at her aunt’s reproachful glare. “I’ll go to see her.”
“Soon.” She tried not to smile at her aunt’s authoritative tone. It was the nudge she knew she needed and she was glad that Ann had someone as formidable as her aunt on her side, even if it was used against her. “Yes aunt, soon.”