Hello there.
Thank you so much for joining me for this continued reading of Moonlight at Mastawis.
This is my unofficial fan-written sequel to celebrate 100 years since the publishing of L.
M.
Montgomery's fantastic 1926 novel.
The Blue Castle.
As you likely know if you've already been listening along to this story.
Lucy Maud Montgomery never wrote a sequel to The Blue Castle.
However,
Myself and it feels like many other people.
Have often wondered what happened next to these characters and so here we are a hundred years later and I'm so delighted to share with you here this version,
My version,
Of a continuation of the storylines for these characters.
Moonlight at Mystarwis is available as a paperback and e-book And of course you can listen to the audio version here if you haven't yet heard the preceding parts of this book.
Can certainly look for the playlist for Moonlight at Mastawis and you'll find all of the chapters there in order.
But for now.
.
.
Let's just take a moment here.
To have a nice Deep exhale.
Letting go of the day.
Letting go of whichever baggage we might be bringing along with us into this moment.
For right now.
There's nowhere else we have to go.
Nothing else we have to be doing.
So we can just relax.
Get ourselves comfortable.
And enjoy the next installment of Moonlight at Nostalwis.
Chapter 11 A list of accomplishments.
By mid-May,
The island had a habit of greening overnight.
One day the birches looked tentative,
And the next they were fluttering new leaves like handkerchiefs.
In those weeks,
Balancy and Barney had slipped into a rhythm that felt almost ceremonial.
Were early mornings out on the water,
Shepherding packages for South Shore Road.
Parcels were left with Reverend Morrison.
Who asked no questions and shared no names.
Potatoes,
Oats and candles vanished into Eliza Gray's kitchen anonymously.
The story spread,
Anyway.
It always did.
Deerwood liked a mystery.
Almost as much as it liked to tut.
Well,
Nancy's heart lifted every time she pictured the moment of discovery.
Eliza's quiet surprise,
The children's glee over some unexpected little treasure.
One morning,
Barney handed Valancy an envelope he'd brought back from the mainland.
Her name.
Looping and precise,
Stood out.
In her mother's careful,
Fussy script.
Valancy caught her breath.
As if the past had reached through paper and ink to tap her on the shoulder.
She opened it while Barney was bringing in firewood,
Shaking off the last of the morning rain.
Inside was a stiff birthday card,
Thick with gilt edging and embossed forget-me-nots.
The front featured An angelic child cradling a lamb.
Inside,
A printed verse spoke of duty,
Meekness,
And the blessings of obedience.
Her mother had signed it,
Your affectionate mother.
And Cousin Stickles had added a cramped note below.
We hope you are well.
A woman must make the best of things,
Whatever her lot.
Do right soon.
For Lancey Reddit,
Allowed.
By the time she got to whatever her lot.
Barney was snorting into his sleeve.
She must have had that line engraved on her soul,
He said.
Barney stepped closer then,
And rapped for Lancey in a firm,
Bracing hug.
He kissed the top of her head.
Happy birthday,
Moonlight.
I love you so much.
And I'm still so scared.
Damn glad.
That old fool,
Dr.
Trent.
Was wrong.
Balancy closed her eyes and leaned into him.
Thank you.
So am I.
He released her.
And fished in his coat pocket.
Also.
.
.
I didn't forget.
He handed her a small,
Brown-wrapped parcel.
With a mischievous glint in his eye.
Even husbands with paint in their hair.
Remember birthdays?
" he said.
She laughed and peeled it open.
It was a cloth-bound novel.
Something new.
Something she hadn't read.
He'd scribbled on the flyleaf in pencil.
For Moonlight.
Who turned borrowed time into a whole new world.
Her throat caught.
May the 26th.
Barney said softly.
Three years ago.
You were still over there,
In Deerwood.
Turning 29 and Everyone looking at you like you'd missed your last train.
And now look at you.
Married.
Wild.
Glorious globetrotter!
Alive.
Valancy looked down at the book in her hands,
With tears welling in her eyes.
Ugh.
That birthday.
I thought I'd die of boredom.
Loneliness.
And if not loneliness,
Then of disgrace.
Or boredom.
Or sciatica.
I wake up.
And hear the wind in the pines and think I get another day.
Of this.
She paused.
Tears spilling down her cheeks now.
Doesn't feel.
Like the same line.
That's because it isn't,
" said Barney,
Simply.
Pulling her back into a loving embrace.
Belancy slid her mother's card into the kindling box and the book under her arm then followed Barney out to the porch,
Where the sky was already clearing and the scent of balsam hung fresh in the air.
On a Thursday that smelled of rain and resin.
Barney was maneuvering an old camp cot through the shed doorway.
While Valancy sorted dried herbs into little corked bottles on the porch.
The lake lay flat as tin.
A lazy breeze stirred the towels,
Pegged to dry.
Good.
The sudden clanging of the bell at the mainland dock.
Made them both look up.
Barney shaded his eyes and called.
Company.
Wearing something beige and carrying a parcel Balancy blinked.
Then said to herself,
Sounds like Olive.
Barney grunted,
Straightening up and setting his tools aside.
Shall I go fetch her?
Or let her admire the island from afar.
Go!
Fetch her!
" said Valancy,
Tucking another jar of mint into the basket.
By the time Olive stepped carefully out of the canoe,
Accepting Barney's extended hand,
For Lancey was waiting on the little path up from the dock.
An absurd little thrill of mischief stirring in her.
Olive wore a travelling hat that had lost the will to sit straight.
And a beige linen dress that appeared to be issuing a formal protest against the Lake Eyre.
She had a small parcel tucked under one arm and the expression of Someone who had prepared six speeches.
And then discarded them all during the short crossing.
For all her fluster and the errant tilt of her hat,
Though,
Olive Sterling was still the kind of beautiful that seemed to hum beneath the skin.
Cheekbones unbothered by humidity.
Eyes cool and blue as glacier melt.
Skin untouched by the sun despite the crossing.
Even now,
Stepping out of a canoe with obvious trepidation and trailing an air of mild dismay,
She managed somehow to look like an advertisement for travel corsetry.
Balancy felt the old flicker of awe.
Some part of her,
Apparently,
Had still not quite outgrown the myth of the moon.
Perfect.
Olive.
The girl who had turned every head at Sunday school picnics.
And danced-in-dresses Valancy had only seen in catalogues.
Barney helped her out with exaggerated gallantry,
Then gave a crooked bow.
Welcome back,
Miss Stirling.
We've improved the place since last time,
Painted the front step and installed a full symphony of frogs.
I see,
" said Olive,
Which was not quite what she meant.
Olive.
Welcome back.
Come on up to the porch.
I'll put the kettle on.
" Valancy offered.
Olive held out the parcel.
I've brought preserves.
Dangerous,
Barney muttered,
Eyeing the parcel as they walked.
Explosive?
Rhubarb,
" said Olive crisply,
Not looking at Barney.
With orange peel.
Mother's Recipe.
Barney gave a theatrical wince.
Citrus.
We'll keep it for enemy diplomats.
But Valancy took the package with a murmur of thanks and set it neatly beside the tea tray she'd already laid out with boiled eggs,
Buttered biscuits and wild strawberry jam.
They settled on the veranda.
Balancy poured,
Barney brought out a plate of oatcakes,
And Olive sat straight-backed on one of the chairs,
Like a guest at a dentist's.
She was cataloguing again.
The neat shelf of jars,
The bowl of pinecones.
The fresh-mended rug that did not match anything.
The view was outrageous in its beauty.
The lake sunstruck and stippled with gold.
Soft wind rustling the birch leaves.
But Olive barely glanced at it.
She sipped her tea,
And the conversation,
Such as it was,
Limped along with polite formalities.
Deerwood News,
Wedding announcements,
A neighbour's new litter of kittens.
I'm lying a scandal over someone's garden fence.
Olive did most of the talking.
Barney,
After a few muttered responses,
Leaned back in his chair and let his eyes drift towards the trees,
Sipping slowly.
Olive glanced at him once or twice with the sort of expression one might give a resting bear.
He was still an odd-looking man to her.
Too thin.
Tawny head,
With those eyebrows that appeared not quite to agree with one another.
And a face that became unexpectedly boyish when he smiled.
I didn't know you'd be here too,
She said to Barney at one point.
I do live here,
He replied.
Olive gave a small,
Uncertain sniff.
And busied herself with a crease in her skirt that hadn't needed fixing.
Balancy stifled a smirk as she poured more tea.
Barney's been busy fixing up the shed,
She offered.
Olive glanced at Barney's hands,
Still bearing traces of paint and grease.
I see.
You've certainly got your work cut out for you,
I suppose.
I knew you were a man of words.
I didn't know you were also a man of wood and nails and so on.
Barney shrugged.
Keeps the blood moving.
Balancy smiled over the teapot.
Barney is a man of a rather alarming number of talents,
" Valancy said.
I've quite given up trying to count!
Ugh.
Don't exaggerate,
Moonlight!
I make an excellent mess of plenty of things too,
" retorted Barney blithely.
There was a silence then,
Filled by the creak of the porch.
A flick of wings as a blackbird darted through the trees.
And the faint clatter of a spoon against a teacup.
Olive cleared her throat.
Looks like you've quite a little patch of vegetables back there now.
We try.
For Lance,
He said.
It's mostly turnips and stubborn lettuce.
Mother says lettuce won't grow on limestone,
Said Olive.
Then don't tell the letters,
Said Barney.
Valancy stifled a snort and passed the biscuit.
You're so.
.
.
Secluded here,
" Olive added,
Ignoring Barney's commentary.
Doesn't it ever feel?
I don't know.
Remote?
Balancy smiled.
It does.
That's rather the charm.
Olive gave a little sniff.
I should think I'd go mad without a single neighbour.
Barney stirred.
Oh.
We've got quite a few.
Ducks,
Squirrels,
Loons,
A fox or two,
Leander,
Olive looked at him.
Leander.
An owl.
I raised him from a nestling.
He still drops by when he feels sociable.
I meant human neighbours,
Olive said pointedly.
Well.
.
.
We don't miss the gossip,
" Valancy said lightly,
Reaching for another oat cake.
Though we do still hear a bit of it second hand.
Oh,
I'm sure,
Said Olive.
There's always plenty to go around.
For instance,
She leaned in,
Her voice dropping half an octave,
There's been a fair amount of talk about the grey widow.
The one on the South Shore Road with half a dozen young children.
It seems like someone.
.
.
Has been very generously helping them.
Anonymously.
No one knows who!
Everyone is guessing!
It is the main entertainment at Mrs Paterson's.
Now that the crocuses are over.
Balancy's heart gave a brief,
Traitorous flutter.
Barney's eyes stayed on his mug.
Olive continued,
Her tone almost confiding now.
It's really become quite a mystery.
No one sees anything,
Yet every so often something new has appeared.
Firewood or potatoes or even oranges.
Some say it's the lady's aid,
But they've denied it flatly.
Others think it might be Uncle Benjamin.
He has been seen driving through the woods.
Valancy snorted.
Uncle Benjamin.
Wouldn't give up a good potato without a receipt and five witnesses.
Olive blinked.
Well.
.
.
Be that as it may,
Someone's doing it.
And whoever it is seems to want no credit,
Which is.
.
.
Odd.
Balancy merely nodded.
And?
Aww Maybe admirable?
That seemed to leave Olive at a loss.
She looked towards the lake instead.
Her lips pressed thin.
And for a long moment they all sat with only the sound of the breeze brushing the leaves.
Barney caught Valancy's glance.
Valancy looked down at her tea quickly because she did not trust her face.
When the rhubarb jam came out and they tasted it,
Olive pretended not to care about the verdict.
Barney said it would make a bishop swear from happiness.
Valancy said it would go very well with porridge in the morning.
Olive looked as if she might offer to take it back so they would not waste it on porridge.
Then thought better of it.
They lingered over their tea.
Breeze combing softly through the trees.
Somewhere down the shore,
A loon called once,
Then again.
Eerie and beautiful.
I can't quite believe you actually live here.
Olive said suddenly.
Really live here.
It's like a storybook.
Or a cautionary tale.
There's something charming about it,
I suppose,
But.
.
.
No road,
No neighbours.
Do you just.
.
.
Trust that nothing will come slinking out of the woods.
If it does,
We offer it jam,
" said Barney,
Pushing the jar towards her.
Olive laughed before she could stop herself.
Then looked faintly startled by the sound.
Whores.
Then,
More quietly,
She asked him.
Don't you ever miss me?
Society?
Valancy leaned back.
Not the kind that measures everything by calling cards and dinner invitations.
We have something different here.
Yes.
I suppose you do.
She hesitated,
Then added,
You seem.
.
.
Content.
Balancy's eyes twinkled.
Dangerously so.
Olive opened her mouth.
Then shut it again.
She glanced towards the lake.
It must be strange though,
She said eventually,
Almost to herself.
To spend so much time alone with someone.
Just one person,
Always.
Barney stood to stretch.
Well,
I'll leave you two to it.
I've got some pages waiting.
He disappeared off to Bluebird's chamber,
Whistling under his breath.
Olive turned back towards Valancy.
What I meant was.
.
.
Most of us spend half our time trying to avoid our families and yet you two live here in such close quarters day in day out with no one else to break the Strain!
That's just it We're not trying to avoid each other.
That makes a difference.
Offered for Lancey.
Olive looked down at her cup.
And stirred the last inch of her tea.
I.
.
.
Wouldn't know.
She said it so simply that it hung in the air.
Longer than either of them expected.
I used to think.
I had everything.
Mapped out.
Balancy didn't say anything.
The lake shifted faintly against the rocks below.
Olive went on,
Still looking down.
A wedding,
At St.
Albans.
In June.
A house.
On Binkerman Street.
Little things like that.
Stupid,
Probably.
Not stupid,
" Balancy said quietly,
Just specific.
Olive gave a breath that might have been a laugh if it had any air in it.
The specifics were the first to go.
The rest.
Followed.
Pause.
For a while.
I thought it was just bad luck.
A misstep.
Then I thought.
.
.
It must have been someone's fault.
His.
Mothers.
Mine!
Her voice caught.
And steadied.
Her eyes remained low.
Eventually I ran out of people to blame.
Valancy watched her.
A long moment.
Do you?
Still think it was your fault.
Olive didn't answer right away.
Sometimes.
She said at last.
For Lancey didn't speak.
She merely passed Olive.
Another biscuit.
I keep thinking.
Said Olive after a moment.
That I did.
Everything.
I was supposed to.
I kept my gloves clean.
Learned the piano and didn't ask impertinent questions.
I was careful not to get feckles.
I learned how to make the very best sponge cake in town.
But in the end,
I suppose no one wants to marry.
List of accomplishments.
That might be the wisest thing you've said all afternoon.
Said Valante Olive's smile was faint.
Almost a shadow.
What good is.
Being wise.
If no one.
.
.
Wants you.
Valanci.
Was silent for a moment.
Then she pushed the biscuits a little nearer Olive.
Olive looked down and adjusted the pin at her collar.
Do you always keep the biscuits in that tin?
Surprisingly charming.
As Valancy was responding,
Olive reached into her bag to retrieve a handkerchief.
Something else slipped partly into view.
A small sketchbook.
Its corners softened from use,
And a roll of pencils bound with ribbon.
She moved quickly to tuck them back out of sight.
But not before the lancy quarter glimpse.
Those drawings?
" Valanci asked,
Leaning forward with genuine curiosity.
I didn't know you sketched!
Just scribbles,
Really.
I've had a bit more time on my hands these past couple of years,
That's all.
I'd love to see them,
" said Valancy.
Olive hesitated.
There.
Not very good.
It's just.
.
.
Something I do now and then.
Landscapes.
Old buildings.
The river sometimes.
Silly,
Really.
Not silly at all,
" said Valancy.
I'd still like to see them.
Olive looked away.
The faintest trace of colour rising in her cheeks.
She.
.
.
Didn't respond.
But she didn't change the subject either.
Then her gaze lifted again.
Settling somewhere beyond the port railing,
As if weighing her next words carefully.
Then,
With a slight shift in tone,
She began.
Anyway.
Surely it won't always be just the two of you here on this island,
" she said.
You've been married almost three years already,
Haven't you?
Don't you think it's time to start a family?
But Lance's eyes flickered briefly.
With something unspoken.
She set her cup down carefully.
Well,
She said,
Voice steady but soft.
We're taking things as they come.
These things can't always be planned.
Olive gave a small,
Tight smile.
Just then,
Barney reappeared from Bluebeard's chamber and nodded towards the lake.
Looks like the clouds might hold off.
But it's getting late.
Best we get you back across before it's too dark.
Olive rose with a small sigh.
Gathering her hat and bag with practiced care.
Thank you for having me,
She said,
Glancing between the two of them.
It's.
.
.
Been a pleasant surprise.
Valancy smiled and gave Olive's arm a fond squeeze.
Thank you for coming,
She said.
It's been lovely having you.
For once,
She felt that was actually.
.
.
At least partly true.
Barney moved down the worn path to the dock with steady,
Deliberate steps.
Olive followed,
Picking her way along the uneven ground with a composed sort of caution.
As if determined not to betray any slip or stumble.
He reached out a hand to steady Olive as she approached and settled carefully into the seat.
He then hopped in behind her with the easy confidence of long practice.
Balanci stayed on the porch,
Watching the water ripple around the canoe as Barney pushed off.
The paddle dipped in smooth,
Even strokes,
Sending tiny waves out to lap at the shoreline.
The lake caught the light in long,
Glinting ribbons as the canoe slipped away from the shore.
Not dusk,
Yet,
But the brightness,
Mellowing,
Shadows beginning to stretch.
Balancy watched them go.
One hand resting lightly on the portrail.
A breeze stirred the leaves.
Lifting the scent of pine and something faintly sweet from the underbrush.
She felt the quiet shift.
That always came when the island returned to stillness.
Life here had grown around them like moss around stone.
Slow and sure.
Yet she also felt the sting of Olive's question.
Lingering.
Like a note left hanging in the air.
Unresolved.
Valancy gathered the cups and plates,
Stacking them absentmindedly and carrying them to the sink.
She found herself thinking.
Against her better judgment of.
.
.
Olives.
Beautiful face.
Framed beneath her little hat.
And the effortless grace with which she still seemed to move through the world.
Some childish corner of Valanci.
One she had thought long since outgrown.
Gave an uncomfortable little twinge.
At the thought of Barney alone with her now.
Paddling across the lake.
She wondered.
What they might be talking about.
Olive.
With her lovely face and elegant hands.
And all the advantages Valanci had once believed were necessary for happiness thoughts pricked at her unexpectedly.
There had been years when she had measured herself against Olive so relentlessly.
That it had become as natural as breathing.
Apparently,
Some habits took longer than others to die.
Valancy frowned at the plate in her hands.
And dried it rather more vigorously than necessary.
The screen door creaked softly behind her.
Barney came in,
Hung his hat on its peg.
And watched her for a moment as she hung her head and dried the same plate for what was evidently the third time.
That plate insults you.
Valancy glanced down at it.
Possibly.
Barney came over and took the towel from her.
What's wrong?
Nothing.
He waited.
Valancy made a face at herself.
Olive.
Very beautiful.
She looked at him.
What?
" said Barney.
She is.
But Lancey gave an unwilling little laugh.
You're not very good at this.
What?
Reassuring jealous wives?
Bonnie's eyebrows went up.
Are you jealous?
Don't sound so astonished.
He put down the towel.
Moonlight.
Something in the way he said it.
Made her look up at him.
There's only.
.
.
One.
I love you.
Valancy smiled.
Exhaled.
And leaned in against him.
Outside.
The pines stood dark.
Against the sky,
Fading from blue to purl.
And delay.
Lay calm.
Beneath them.
