Moonlight At Mistawis - Chapter 5: Still Houses

Welcome to Chapter Five of 'Moonlight at Mistawis', my independent, unofficial sequel to L. M. Montgomery's beloved 1926 novel 'The Blue Castle'.

Valancy returns to the house where she spent the first twenty-nine years of her life and discovers just how much - and how little - has changed. Later, she finally sits down with Olive, and an unexpected invitation opens the possibility of a very different kind of visit.

You do not need to have read or listened to 'The Blue Castle' first. 'Moonlight at Mistawis' can also be enjoyed as a standalone story.

Settle in, get comfortable, and enjoy this gentle literary sleep story, read aloud by the author.

Transcript

Hello there. Thank you so much for joining me for this continued reading of Moonlight at Mastawis. This is my unofficial, Fan-written sequel celebrating 100 years since the publishing of Lucy Maud Montgomery's beautiful 1926 novel, The Blue Castle. If you haven't heard The Blue Castle before, You can certainly look for my reading of that here on Insight Timer and listen to that whole story if you like. It's not necessary. This book, Moonlight Atmospheres, Was written so it can be enjoyed as a standalone novel. Also, If you haven't heard the preceding parts of this book, You can look for the playlist for Moonlight Atmospheres and find everything 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 ongoing sweet story of moonlight at Mystawis. Chapter 5 still houses. The Lancey had thought herself prepared for anything. Yet, As she walked towards the small, Neat house, Where she had spent 29 joyless years, A thin tightness settled in her chest. The house looked just the same. Prim, Pale, Pressed flat against the edge of Elm Street, As if trying not to take up space. Its windows blinked in the morning sun like disapproving eyes. She was carrying a small bottle of the season's first maple syrup from Miss Starwiss. Wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. A small peace offering. She had not written ahead to say she was coming. Dearwood gossip would have long since delivered that news. Balancy reached the front step and hesitated. The door was just as she remembered, Painted a scrubbed, Soulless white. She took a deep breath through her nose and knocked lightly. Cousin Stickles answered in her pinched apron, Her eyebrows flaring up like startled squirrels. Valancy! " she exclaimed. Why, We weren't expecting. . . Mrs Frederick's voice rang from the parlour. Who is it, Christine? Cousin Stickles leaned back and called, It's Doss! Valancy stepped over the threshold, Just as her mother appeared in the hallway. The sight of her, Hair as neat and grey as ever, Mouth a narrow line of mild outrage, Gave Valancy an odd twist in her stomach. I was nearby, Valancy said, Holding out the wrapped jar. Thought I might stop in and say hello. Mrs Frederick took the maple syrup, With the same expression she might reserve for an unscheduled tax notice. How? Considerate. They stood awkwardly. The hall smelled the same. Dust and lemon oil. The grandfather clock ticked disapprovingly. Would you like some tea? Cousin Stickles intervened. Thank you. That would be nice. Balancy followed them into the parlour. Of course. Nothing had changed. The doilies on the armrests were precisely aligned. The portrait of Grandfather Stirling still loomed in its heavy frame above the mantle. The same thin ferns drooped in their pots. As Cousin Stickles disappeared to the kitchen, Mrs Frederick sat down in her usual chair and motioned Valancy to the sofa. She did not ask how Miss Starwes was, Or how Barney was, Or where Valancy had been travelling. Instead, She simply said, You've been staying at Georgiana's. Of course. That would be her mother's opening remark. Yes, Just for a little while, Balancy replied. It's been a lovely visit. A pause. I must say, It seemed Odd that you didn't come here first. I thought it might be simpler for everyone, " Valancy said evenly. Mrs Frederick's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. We are your family. Valancy resisted the urge to smile again. Yes, That's why I came today. Cousin Stickles returned with the tea tray. Three cups, A small plate of oatmeal biscuits, Dry as ever. Valancy took a sip and found the tea Wink. And too hot. A flavourless mouthful of a miserable childhood. Conversation limped along. The weather. A recent bazaar at the church. The price of eggs. Nobody mentioned Barney or Miss Starwes. Tight civility. And awkward, Flickering glances passed between them. As though the two older women were unsuccessfully trying to refile Valancy into an old cabinet drawer. The two older women were murmuring to each other now. Something about Mrs. Abel Hawthorne's second cousin who had taken a bad turn. Possibly whether the new minister's wife had worn gloves on Sunday. But Lancey wasn't listening. Excuse me a moment, Valancy said lightly. I just want to peek in at my old room. Mrs Frederick and Cousin Stickles exchanged glances. I suppose you may, Mrs. Frederick aloud, Icily. She rose, And Cousin Stickles followed suit. Balancy climbed the stairs ahead of them, Feeling their presence behind her like a pair of phantoms. The air grew stuffier with every step. At the top landing, Her hand hesitated on the door. But only for a second. She opened it. The room was precisely as she had left it, Just as it had always been. The yellow painted floor still creaked in the same spots. The one stiff chair stood guard beside the narrow iron bed and the grim little hooked rug still leered up at her with its grotesque dog forever grinning. The cracked mirror was still propped awkwardly on the dressing table, Refusing to flatter. The old photographs of long-dead relatives surrounded her once again. Stiff figures with stiff collars peering out from tarnished frames. All those stern, Unsmiling faces, Zooming from every side. As if convened in ghostly judgment. Valancy gave an involuntary little shudder. Followed by a laugh, More thoughtful than bitter. Behind her, Mrs Frederick startled. There's dust on the sill, " Cousin Stickles remarked sharply. Belancy pressed her eyes shut for a moment, Smiled and stepped back into the hall. Some things never change, She quietly remarked. More to herself than anyone else. Valancy followed the older women down the stairs at a leisurely pace, The stiff hems of their skirts rustling ahead of her like dry leaves. Back in the parlour, Mrs Frederick sat bolt upright in her chair once more, Her face as unreadable as ever. She folded her hands in her lap. Do you find yourself settled now, Belancy? In some ways, Yes. In others, Not quite, But I like that. This earned a brief silence. Then Mrs. Frederick cleared her throat. And what is. . . Your husband calling himself now? Still Barney, Said Valancy serenely. And he's Mr. Redfern, Again. Snaith was just the name he was living under when I met him. Redfern is his family name, As you know. Cousin Stickles pursed her lips. It's hard to keep track. First you were Valancy, Then Doss, Then Valancy again, Then Mrs Snaith. And now. . . Valancy smiled. Now I'm Valancy Redfern. Mrs Frederick didn't respond. She disliked all of the names equally. Balancy let the silence stretch a little longer than was polite. I imagine, She said at last, That the ladies at the Anglican church have had a good deal to say about me. Cousin Stickles coughed lightly into her handkerchief. Well, Some wondered, But. . . Of course, We always said it. Wasn't our place. They always seemed to think it was, Said Valancy, Her eyes dancing. Mrs. Frederick stiffened. We do not gossip. Balansi. Exhaled. And let her gaze drift to the window. I remember sitting through sermons in that church as a girl, She said. All about the wrath of God and the sin of vanity and how good little girls went straight from obedience to heaven. Her voice was soft. I used to pray to die quickly. So I wouldn't do it all wrong. Cousin Stickles made a noise of protest. DOS! It's alright. I don't feel that way now. Balancy turned back to them, Kind but unflinching. But you must admit. There wasn't much. Joy to be had there in those pews. Mrs Frederick's thin lips were quivering. Reverend Stalling is a very respectable man. Perhaps. But I was frightened of him. From the time I was a little girl. I had quite enough of being afraid of Dr Stalling. There was another silence. Cousin Stickles reached for the tea tray as if to busy her hands. Mrs Frederick glanced at the clock. Balansi Rose. I really should be off, She said. I'm meeting Barney this afternoon and I still want to walk a little while. Cousin Stickle stood quickly. Well, I hope. . . I mean. . . It was nice to see you, Doss. Valancy, She corrected gently. And thank you. Mrs. Frederick did not rise, Nor did she offer a parting word. She merely gave a small, Regal nod. As if dismissing a committee. Valancy stepped out into the bright morning light. The door clicked shut behind her. She exhaled. Deeply. A breeze stirred the rosebush cousin Georgiana had once given her. The stubborn old thing Valancy had once attacked with a garden knife, After years of it refusing to bloom, New green shoots had now appeared along the stems. Valancy paused and touched one lightly. Then went on. She turned not towards Miss Starwyce just yet, But back through town. She had an idea. She walked deliberately back towards the centre of Dearwood. Shopkeepers were sweeping their doorways, A milk wagon rattled by, And here and there people nodded in quiet greeting. Turning a corner. Balancy came upon a familiar figure. Roaring Abel His booming voice carried over the street as he debated some triviality with a farmer, His weathered face breaking into a very wide grin when he saw her. For Lancey! Well I'll be! How's the world treating you, My dear? She smiled warmly. Oh, Better than I deserve, Abel. They clasped hands and Abel's eyes twinkled. Come now, Don't be modest. Old Barney must be treating you right. Valancy laughed softly. He's a good man. I'm very grateful. And you, Abel, How are you keeping? Fit as a fiddle and twice as noisy, " Abel declared. Balancy smiled. We were just remembering your dear Sissy the other day. At the mention of his daughter, Abel's face grew serious. Than tender. Bless you, Dear Art. Almost three years, Eh? Hard to believe. She's missed. Every day. They talked for another few minutes before Abel went on his way and Valancy continued through town. She walked on through the quiet streets, Past the familiar hedges and tidy porches, Until The Wellington House came into view, Its white trim pristine, Its steps scrubbed, Its curtains drawn just so. Valancy paused at the gate, Her pulse quickening. She adjusted her hat. Then reached out and pushed the latch before she could change her mind. She half expected to find Aunt Wellington's stern silhouette behind the lace-curtained window, Or to hear a haughty voice demand, What are you doing here, Doss? But the house seemed unusually still. A closed parasol, Leaned, Forgotten by the swing seat. No scent of burnt toast or overboiled cabbage hung in the air. For once. Might Olive. Actually be? Alone. Valancy swallowed hard. And knocked. The door opened almost at once, As though Olive had been standing just inside. Oh. A blink. A smile smoothed on like powder. Valanci Valancy returned the smile with one of her own. Olive. I hope I'm not intruding. Not at all, " said Olive, Though her voice did a strange little hop. Do come in. Inside, The parlour was as neat as ever. Quite as joyless as Valancy's mothers. There were peonies in a glass vase. Extravagantly early. Probably forced in a hothouse, And a piano with a neat row of sheet music arranged precisely by genre. Olive's embroidery sat on the armchair, A small spray of violets blooming in thread. You're alone? " Valancy asked lightly. Olive raised an eyebrow. Mothers at a church committee meeting. She takes those very seriously, As you know. Valancy nodded quietly, Recognising the familiar weight of Aunt Wellington's presence here, Even when she wasn't in the room. I hadn't expected to see you here again, " Olive added, Tilting her head. Not after, Well, Everything. I didn't exactly plan it, Berlanti admitted, But I was in town and. . . I had an idea. Olive said nothing, But her eyes narrowed slightly in wary expectation. Valancy became suddenly aware of the ticking clock on the mantle. It's strange being back after so long away. Yes, A year and a half is quite the absence. Mother said you'd probably settled in some ruin on the continent and forgotten all about us. I never forgot, " said Valancy simply. We started in Europe, France, Italy, Spain, Down to Egypt. Barney was fascinated by the old cities. I loved the hush of the desert. It felt like time stopped altogether. That doesn't sound restful, " Olive said, Though her voice had softened almost imperceptibly. It was in its way, But nothing compares to Miss Starwys. Valancy glanced towards the window. Even with all the palaces and paintings and beautiful chaos. I found myself longing for the island. Sometimes I'd lie awake and almost imagine I could hear balloons. A pause. Olive's gaze followed hers, Then flicked back to her hands in her lab. That's unusual, Olive said. Lancey smiled slightly. But it's true. A silence stretched between them, Thick as velvet. Olive. I was thinking. Balansi began. Then stopped. Olive looked at her, Uneasily expectant. Well. . . I know it might seem odd, But it is. I wondered if you'd maybe like to come out to the island sometime? Just for a visit. It's. . . Peaceful. And beautiful in a way that no photograph I've seen could ever quite capture. Olive blinked. Miss Star Wars. Back. Me! Valancy nodded. You might hate it, She allowed. But then again. . . You might not. There was a flicker in Olive's expression. Too fast to name. That's. . . Generous. You needn't decide right now, Said Valancy lightly, But if you feel like it, Barney and I will be starting out from near the post office just after five today. I see. Valancy stood. Brushing her gloves against each other. I should get back to Cousin Georgiana's and gather my things. It was good to see you, Olive. Olive didn't rise. But gave a small nod. Yew! At the door, Valancy paused and looked back. Truly, Olive. The invitation stands. Anytime you like. And with that, She was gone.