LADY ANN'S FOLLY: Chapter Six - Part Five

Ann stopped a few hundred yards down the lane with a hammer-rap of emotion to her head that startled her out of her forward momentum.

Was she really just walking down into the village? And then what?

Would she go into the Dog & Pony? Would she start tending the bar; fetching drinks for the farm workers and miners from Blacklake? Would she answer to the name of Mavis and let herself drift deeper and deeper into that life until it defined her completely?

She had to stop. Right now! She had to go back. She had to wrestle her life back from the real Mavis!

Though as soon as she thought that she got another double blow of that thought hammer. Because it wasn’t really her life. She had stolen it herself. She was no more really Ann than Mavis was. And the despair. Because she knew how unlikely it was that she could get her Ann-life back now – how dangerous the mere attempt could be.

But what was worse? Being caught and flogged or imprisoned for trying to get her life back? Or accepting she never would and staying Mavis forever?

Surely it was better to risk everything than run toward that dismal fate with open arms.

It seemed so obvious now that she had asked herself that question. It was blatant. She had to go back. Right now. She had to do everything she could to stop getting trapped like this – intercede before the fake Ann could leave Griply.

She turned about and marched back up the lane, but faltered, recalling Powell’s admonitions. A direct approach was liable to land her in gaol before she got close to her quarry.

Instead, she turned aside and went to the nearest gate on the side of the lane facing the hall. She climbed over into the field there and cut across it, pushing on into the next field and toward the roves and chimney pots of the old building. As she got closer her tension increased, as the flimsiness of her plan became more and more apparent.

What did she really hope to do when she got there? She couldn’t dare go inside. Her best hope, surely, was to remain hidden at the front until the real Mavis emerged with Richard to take the coach to the station – if that was still their plan. That could very well be hours away or even on a different day.

Ann shuddered at the levels of stress in her heart and mind. How could she have been so impulsive and stupid?

But that didn’t matter now. She couldn’t allow herself to lose sight of the one thing she needed to do now.

She approached the final fence, beyond which lay the front of the hall. The fence there wasn’t too high and the undergrowth was passable. Ann climbed over and pushed her way partially through, keeping low in the hopes she wouldn’t be seen. There was cover enough but it paid to be careful with the threats she’d had from the butler.

There was no sign of movement and no coach. That was good but it left her feeling lost as well as horribly on edge. Getting as close as she dared to the edge of the drive, she gazed up at the window of her bedroom, hoping for some sign of the imposter, but there was none. She squatted there for several minutes but all it led to was a turgid level of anxiety and despair. She’d never felt so lost or alone in her life. There was no one she could go to for help – no home where she could feel safe – only this simmering hopeless desperation.

For most of an hour she waited. Still nothing. She saw no one in the windows or on the drive.

She thought about Burt, wishing she could at least go and be with him, but that devilish line of thought was what had got her into this problem in the first place. She turned her thoughts another way angrily.

Then she scrunched down sharply because she heard horses’ hooves coming up the drive and the rattle of wheels. A moment later the coach came into view and circled until its flank was facing the front steps.

Ann felt the urge to break cover immediately but she didn’t. She kept her peace and waited on. Eventually the new footman and Gladys emerged carrying luggage and secured it to the back of the coach. Ann watched in silence, her anxiety levels reaching a terrible crescendo. More long minutes passed and still there was no sign of movement from the upper classes. That anxiety didn’t fade. It went on pulsing and growing, making Ann want to press her palms to the sides of her forehead in frustration and despair.

Finally the front door opened again and Ann paled to see Mavis emerge, looking every bit like the one true Lady Ann. Her hair and make-up were perfect, her clothes neat and well-chosen. She paused as she stepped out, looking at the coach and smiling broadly, the sunlight filling her hair and highlighting her smooth cheeks. She looked like a princess and Ann felt the awful comparison to her own shape and dirty hedge-picked clothes, her tousled hair. Where the woman before her seemed entirely to be a lady of the upper class, what did she look like, squatting in the bushes, desperation wrecking her features?

This was her moment suddenly – her last and only chance to regain her proper form – but she couldn’t move. She was too frightened; intimidated by the certain knowledge of her new status; not because she thought Mavis was better than her (not yet at least), but because every other person she might come up against would think so.

But she closed her hands into determined fists and pressed her lips together.

That was her body. It was her right. It was time to take it back any way that she could!