14 baby little ficlets
Malory Towers
Sally/Darrell
PG
40 words
Sally Hope learned early in her life - on the birth of her baby sister, Daffy - that a heart could be broken in one second. She was twenty-two when Darrell first kissed her and she discovered it could mend as quickly.
Chalet School
Nell Wilson/Con Stewart
PG
164 words
Nell and Con sat side by side, dabbling their feet into the lake. Nell looked up into the sunny sky.
“It’s easy to think on a day like this that life will always be happy. One knows it will rain again, of course, but it’s easy to forget.”
Con, her hands fidgeting in her lap, made a little sound of agreement. Nell turned to her.
“What is it, Con?”
Con’s blue eyes mirrored the colour of the water around their toes.
“I’m engaged,” she said abruptly.
There was a pause, then Nell said “Congratulations” in an unnaturally flat voice. She realised she lacked conviction, and said “No, really, Con. It’s Jock, I suppose? That’s wonderful news.”
“Yes, it’s Jock,” Con agreed, a becoming blush staining her cheeks. “I - I wanted you to be the first to know, Nell.”
“Thank you.”
They sat in silence for a few seconds, and when Nell looke up, it was to see the first cloud slide across the sun.
Saddlers Wells
Vicki Scott, Sebastian Scott, Veronica Weston
PG
191 words
Taken from Chapter 2 of Victoria Scott’s Autobiography
“I think I was three years old when I first decided that my father was the most incredible man in the world. Before that, he had just been Daddy, but around that age I suddenly became clear that there was no other person who could live up to him. He was so much more alive than anyone else. He always seemed to be acting a part, to be larger than life, yet at the same time he was always very much himself. I watched people - rich people, famous people - stagger back almost physically under the assault of his personality.
Veronica, my mother, never struck people in the same way. Often visitors went away from meeting her commenting “Isn’t she sweet; isn’t she natural?” or “One would never think she was a famous ballerina.” She was water to my father’s fire.
But water is a force in itself, and Veronica had a core of steel to equal Sebastian’s. They were both exceptionally driven people, obsessed by their vocations, and nothing, nobody - not even each other, and certainly not I - could stand in their way.
Dimsie
Dimsie, Erica, implied Erica/Jean
PG
122 words
“There was one point,” Dimsie said, her arm slung through Erica’s, “when I wondered just precisely what you felt for Jean. It was in your last term or so as Head Girl.”
Erica stiffened.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought… perhaps… you were falling in love.”
“I thought so too.” There was no one except Dimsie to whom Erica would have made this confession.
“What happened?” asked Dimsie with practical sympathy.
Erica pulled her arm away from Dimsie and turned to face her.
“I went away, to Oxford, of course,” she said calmly. Her eyes were as clear as ever as a brief smile crossed her lips. “Am I, or am I not, an Anti-Soppist, Dimsie?”
And Dimsie rather thought she was.
Persuasion/Sense and Sensibility
Anne Wentworth (nee Eliot), Elinor and Marianne Dashwood
PG
220 words
Elinor thought Anne Wentworth a model of common sense and kindness when they met. She could not help but be impressed by the calm way she dealt with the absence of her husband for long periods of time.
“It can not be helped,” she told a morning caller. “I knew that as a sailor his career would require him to travel. We both accept our partings and rejoice in our reunions.”
Elinor, privately, had nodded her head in agreement with Anne’s sentiments. To her left, however, she caught a scandalised expression on Marianne’s face. That a couple could part with such cold sanguinity was anathema to Marianne. Where were the tears? Where were the long, heartfelt letters, the days in which Anne could bear no company if it were not that of her husband? Where was emotion, where was - where was love?
Anne, too, had seen Marianne’s feelings written on her visage, and when the visitor had left, she turned and smiled at the younger girl.
“For many years I thought I had lost him forever,” she said quietly. “I did my grieving then. Now, I am grateful for every moment we have.”
And, somewhat to her own surprise, Marianne found herself not just understanding, but sympathising with the other woman’s experience. Perhaps… perhaps she was not cold-hearted, after all.
Abbey Girls
Mary/Jen
PG
24 words
“Oh Jen,” Mary said helplessly, “I wish I could tell you what I think of you.”
“But dear,” said Jen gently, “I already know.”
Chalet School
Simone/Joey
PG
104 words
Growing up didn’t stop Simone loving Joey. Marriage (Joey’s and her own) and the birth of Joey’s children and Simone’s Tessa didn’t stop Simone from idealising Joey. It came later. Later, when Joey took one look at Pierre and said “I’m glad you’re getting a proper family now.” Simone took it in her stride, but the gloss had gone. If Joey couldn’t see that even if Simone had had one child her whole life, it would still have been a family as proper as any that Joey had - Simone liked Joey still, loved her as a friend, but it would never be the same.
Ballet Shoes (and the time frame just before The Painted Garden)
Pauline, Posy
U
104 words
Pauline didn’t think she had ever seen Posy cry. Of course, she must have, when they were children, but it was hard to imagine in these grown up days of their twenties.
“It’s not so bad,” she said consolingly. “You don’t have to put your name to it.”
“I… can’t… bear… it,” Posy sobbed.
Pauline turned away, walking to the far side of the room and staring out of the tindow.
“Sometimes,” she said, each word bitten out, “you don’t have a choice.”
“But films!” Posy wailed.
Pauline turned to face her sister.
“I know,” she said grimly; and for once Posy was silenced.
Romeo and Juliet
Juliet/Romeo
PG13
Alternate Universe: they didn’t die, they got married.
I knew I was not the first. But I believed I would be the last. Romeo believed so too, I know he did. For my sake he gave up family, position. He did it to be with me. Oh yes, I did the same, but it was different on my side. Although I was but fourteen years of age, I knew when I saw him that Romeo was my first, my last, my only. None else would ever compare.
The first time he strayed, Romeo was contrite afterwards, crying and begging forgiveness; promising it would never happen again. We both believed him then, too.
The second time his guilt showed itself as anger. “It is your fault, Juliet! You make so little effort to attract me. How can I help it if I am seduced by the wiles of a girl prepared to show me some attention?” And I believed him once more.
I prinked and preened, trying to show myself to best advantage. I tried never to complain, never to act in a way that might show me as a ‘nag’. I never refused his advances; tried always to seem willing. Yet once more his roving eye led him astray. This time, he said that I had become too meek, too obedient, too lacking in life - too dull. I knew then the truth, I think, though it would be a while before I admitted it.
My husband’s passions were strong. In the first moment of attraction no sense of propriety could keep him from his amour. He had shown this in his pursuance of me, though I had been too young to realise it. He would not - I think he could not - change.
I knew of only one way to keep him for myself. So when you find our bodies, you will find this note clasped against my breast. Alive, my Romeo could never be faithful. In death we shall not be parted.
The last words of
Juliet Montague.
Chalet School
Emerence/Margot
PG
“Would it have made any difference if… if I hadn’t gone back to Australia?” Emerence asked, two days after Margot had told her about her future.
Margot’s mind went back to that last summer term they’d had together, years ago now. She remembered all the emotions that had flowed through her. Anger and jealousy of Ted’s hold over her sister, and her fear as to the nature of that hold; guilty excited moments when Emmy and she, escaping from the crowds of girls that usually surrounded them, had kissed with a breathless passion; the pain of the knowledge (however deeply buried) that her parents would never, never forgive her if they knew what had been going on; the deeper pain that, if she were right about Ted, Len would find her parents even less inclined to forgive, since she was so much more loved. She had been wrong about Ted, her own guilt leading her to see illicit love affairs in every friendship.
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “But this is…” (God forgive her for the word she was about to use) “… this is…” (a rueful smile for Emmy, her love) “…safer.”
Dimsie
Sylvia/Daphne
PG
It hadn’t been easy. Daphne Maitland was by nature and nurture an intensely conventional young woman. It had been hard to persuade her to turn her back on the future that everyone expected of her. Harder still when Sylvia’s first novel brought international recognition.
“For your sake,” she had whispered, her face white as she saw the journalists that lurked by Sylvia’s door, “for the sake of your reputation, we must stop this.”
“Stop nothing,” said Sylvia calmly as she walked to meet the press.
The next interview that was published was to outrage the polite world, saying with simply honesty that she lived with - “and yes, like that” - Daphne Maitland, and they were an extremely happy couple.
When the next book Sylvia wrote gained even more admiration, Daphne gave up he fears. For after all, they were, indeed, extremely happy.
Abbey Girls
Ivor/Joy
PG
18 words
“Alas, poor Andrew.” Ivor hesitated before looking up at the woman beside him. “I loved him, Lady Joy.”
Chalet School
Con Maynard/Roger Richardson
PG
147 words
She had married because it was expected of her. She had married Roger because she knew him - knew, and liked, him very much If she could, she would have loved him. She wanted so desperately to love him.
There were single ladies. Of course there were. But Con knew that she was not of the character to be one. Her plans for journalism, too, had been stymied by the idea that she - she herself - must go and talk to people. No back room writing up of incidents would be hers, but the brash, forceful inquisitiveness of the press. Con couldn’t face it. And poetry alone (and she was a good; a reputable poet) could not support her.
Roger was there. He was there, he was reliable, he was known. He was the answer to Con’s dilemma.
But sometimes - sometimes - she wondered if she hadn’t paid too dearly.
Malory Towers
Bill/Clarissa
PG
124 words
The ride had been long, muddy and happy. Now, as the two women groomed their horses in neighbouring stable boxes, Clarissa’s voice drifted out.
“Bill,” she said, “did you ever wonder?”
Bill stuck her curly dark head over the stable door and peered round at her friend.
“About what, Honor?” (Bill had called her that for years, the teasing nickname based on the fact that Clarissa was, indeed, the ‘Honorable Clarissa Carter’ in the eyes of the world.)
“About us, I mean,” Clarissa explained as she continued brushing the mud from Merrylegs, her elderly and much loved pony.
Bill considered.
“No, I don’t think so. Should I have?”
Clarissa turned her head, tangled auburn hair trailing over her face.
“No,” she said, and smiled.
Sally/Darrell
PG
40 words
Sally Hope learned early in her life - on the birth of her baby sister, Daffy - that a heart could be broken in one second. She was twenty-two when Darrell first kissed her and she discovered it could mend as quickly.
Chalet School
Nell Wilson/Con Stewart
PG
164 words
Nell and Con sat side by side, dabbling their feet into the lake. Nell looked up into the sunny sky.
“It’s easy to think on a day like this that life will always be happy. One knows it will rain again, of course, but it’s easy to forget.”
Con, her hands fidgeting in her lap, made a little sound of agreement. Nell turned to her.
“What is it, Con?”
Con’s blue eyes mirrored the colour of the water around their toes.
“I’m engaged,” she said abruptly.
There was a pause, then Nell said “Congratulations” in an unnaturally flat voice. She realised she lacked conviction, and said “No, really, Con. It’s Jock, I suppose? That’s wonderful news.”
“Yes, it’s Jock,” Con agreed, a becoming blush staining her cheeks. “I - I wanted you to be the first to know, Nell.”
“Thank you.”
They sat in silence for a few seconds, and when Nell looke up, it was to see the first cloud slide across the sun.
Saddlers Wells
Vicki Scott, Sebastian Scott, Veronica Weston
PG
191 words
Taken from Chapter 2 of Victoria Scott’s Autobiography
“I think I was three years old when I first decided that my father was the most incredible man in the world. Before that, he had just been Daddy, but around that age I suddenly became clear that there was no other person who could live up to him. He was so much more alive than anyone else. He always seemed to be acting a part, to be larger than life, yet at the same time he was always very much himself. I watched people - rich people, famous people - stagger back almost physically under the assault of his personality.
Veronica, my mother, never struck people in the same way. Often visitors went away from meeting her commenting “Isn’t she sweet; isn’t she natural?” or “One would never think she was a famous ballerina.” She was water to my father’s fire.
But water is a force in itself, and Veronica had a core of steel to equal Sebastian’s. They were both exceptionally driven people, obsessed by their vocations, and nothing, nobody - not even each other, and certainly not I - could stand in their way.
Dimsie
Dimsie, Erica, implied Erica/Jean
PG
122 words
“There was one point,” Dimsie said, her arm slung through Erica’s, “when I wondered just precisely what you felt for Jean. It was in your last term or so as Head Girl.”
Erica stiffened.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought… perhaps… you were falling in love.”
“I thought so too.” There was no one except Dimsie to whom Erica would have made this confession.
“What happened?” asked Dimsie with practical sympathy.
Erica pulled her arm away from Dimsie and turned to face her.
“I went away, to Oxford, of course,” she said calmly. Her eyes were as clear as ever as a brief smile crossed her lips. “Am I, or am I not, an Anti-Soppist, Dimsie?”
And Dimsie rather thought she was.
Persuasion/Sense and Sensibility
Anne Wentworth (nee Eliot), Elinor and Marianne Dashwood
PG
220 words
Elinor thought Anne Wentworth a model of common sense and kindness when they met. She could not help but be impressed by the calm way she dealt with the absence of her husband for long periods of time.
“It can not be helped,” she told a morning caller. “I knew that as a sailor his career would require him to travel. We both accept our partings and rejoice in our reunions.”
Elinor, privately, had nodded her head in agreement with Anne’s sentiments. To her left, however, she caught a scandalised expression on Marianne’s face. That a couple could part with such cold sanguinity was anathema to Marianne. Where were the tears? Where were the long, heartfelt letters, the days in which Anne could bear no company if it were not that of her husband? Where was emotion, where was - where was love?
Anne, too, had seen Marianne’s feelings written on her visage, and when the visitor had left, she turned and smiled at the younger girl.
“For many years I thought I had lost him forever,” she said quietly. “I did my grieving then. Now, I am grateful for every moment we have.”
And, somewhat to her own surprise, Marianne found herself not just understanding, but sympathising with the other woman’s experience. Perhaps… perhaps she was not cold-hearted, after all.
Abbey Girls
Mary/Jen
PG
24 words
“Oh Jen,” Mary said helplessly, “I wish I could tell you what I think of you.”
“But dear,” said Jen gently, “I already know.”
Chalet School
Simone/Joey
PG
104 words
Growing up didn’t stop Simone loving Joey. Marriage (Joey’s and her own) and the birth of Joey’s children and Simone’s Tessa didn’t stop Simone from idealising Joey. It came later. Later, when Joey took one look at Pierre and said “I’m glad you’re getting a proper family now.” Simone took it in her stride, but the gloss had gone. If Joey couldn’t see that even if Simone had had one child her whole life, it would still have been a family as proper as any that Joey had - Simone liked Joey still, loved her as a friend, but it would never be the same.
Ballet Shoes (and the time frame just before The Painted Garden)
Pauline, Posy
U
104 words
Pauline didn’t think she had ever seen Posy cry. Of course, she must have, when they were children, but it was hard to imagine in these grown up days of their twenties.
“It’s not so bad,” she said consolingly. “You don’t have to put your name to it.”
“I… can’t… bear… it,” Posy sobbed.
Pauline turned away, walking to the far side of the room and staring out of the tindow.
“Sometimes,” she said, each word bitten out, “you don’t have a choice.”
“But films!” Posy wailed.
Pauline turned to face her sister.
“I know,” she said grimly; and for once Posy was silenced.
Romeo and Juliet
Juliet/Romeo
PG13
Alternate Universe: they didn’t die, they got married.
I knew I was not the first. But I believed I would be the last. Romeo believed so too, I know he did. For my sake he gave up family, position. He did it to be with me. Oh yes, I did the same, but it was different on my side. Although I was but fourteen years of age, I knew when I saw him that Romeo was my first, my last, my only. None else would ever compare.
The first time he strayed, Romeo was contrite afterwards, crying and begging forgiveness; promising it would never happen again. We both believed him then, too.
The second time his guilt showed itself as anger. “It is your fault, Juliet! You make so little effort to attract me. How can I help it if I am seduced by the wiles of a girl prepared to show me some attention?” And I believed him once more.
I prinked and preened, trying to show myself to best advantage. I tried never to complain, never to act in a way that might show me as a ‘nag’. I never refused his advances; tried always to seem willing. Yet once more his roving eye led him astray. This time, he said that I had become too meek, too obedient, too lacking in life - too dull. I knew then the truth, I think, though it would be a while before I admitted it.
My husband’s passions were strong. In the first moment of attraction no sense of propriety could keep him from his amour. He had shown this in his pursuance of me, though I had been too young to realise it. He would not - I think he could not - change.
I knew of only one way to keep him for myself. So when you find our bodies, you will find this note clasped against my breast. Alive, my Romeo could never be faithful. In death we shall not be parted.
The last words of
Juliet Montague.
Chalet School
Emerence/Margot
PG
“Would it have made any difference if… if I hadn’t gone back to Australia?” Emerence asked, two days after Margot had told her about her future.
Margot’s mind went back to that last summer term they’d had together, years ago now. She remembered all the emotions that had flowed through her. Anger and jealousy of Ted’s hold over her sister, and her fear as to the nature of that hold; guilty excited moments when Emmy and she, escaping from the crowds of girls that usually surrounded them, had kissed with a breathless passion; the pain of the knowledge (however deeply buried) that her parents would never, never forgive her if they knew what had been going on; the deeper pain that, if she were right about Ted, Len would find her parents even less inclined to forgive, since she was so much more loved. She had been wrong about Ted, her own guilt leading her to see illicit love affairs in every friendship.
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “But this is…” (God forgive her for the word she was about to use) “… this is…” (a rueful smile for Emmy, her love) “…safer.”
Dimsie
Sylvia/Daphne
PG
It hadn’t been easy. Daphne Maitland was by nature and nurture an intensely conventional young woman. It had been hard to persuade her to turn her back on the future that everyone expected of her. Harder still when Sylvia’s first novel brought international recognition.
“For your sake,” she had whispered, her face white as she saw the journalists that lurked by Sylvia’s door, “for the sake of your reputation, we must stop this.”
“Stop nothing,” said Sylvia calmly as she walked to meet the press.
The next interview that was published was to outrage the polite world, saying with simply honesty that she lived with - “and yes, like that” - Daphne Maitland, and they were an extremely happy couple.
When the next book Sylvia wrote gained even more admiration, Daphne gave up he fears. For after all, they were, indeed, extremely happy.
Abbey Girls
Ivor/Joy
PG
18 words
“Alas, poor Andrew.” Ivor hesitated before looking up at the woman beside him. “I loved him, Lady Joy.”
Chalet School
Con Maynard/Roger Richardson
PG
147 words
She had married because it was expected of her. She had married Roger because she knew him - knew, and liked, him very much If she could, she would have loved him. She wanted so desperately to love him.
There were single ladies. Of course there were. But Con knew that she was not of the character to be one. Her plans for journalism, too, had been stymied by the idea that she - she herself - must go and talk to people. No back room writing up of incidents would be hers, but the brash, forceful inquisitiveness of the press. Con couldn’t face it. And poetry alone (and she was a good; a reputable poet) could not support her.
Roger was there. He was there, he was reliable, he was known. He was the answer to Con’s dilemma.
But sometimes - sometimes - she wondered if she hadn’t paid too dearly.
Malory Towers
Bill/Clarissa
PG
124 words
The ride had been long, muddy and happy. Now, as the two women groomed their horses in neighbouring stable boxes, Clarissa’s voice drifted out.
“Bill,” she said, “did you ever wonder?”
Bill stuck her curly dark head over the stable door and peered round at her friend.
“About what, Honor?” (Bill had called her that for years, the teasing nickname based on the fact that Clarissa was, indeed, the ‘Honorable Clarissa Carter’ in the eyes of the world.)
“About us, I mean,” Clarissa explained as she continued brushing the mud from Merrylegs, her elderly and much loved pony.
Bill considered.
“No, I don’t think so. Should I have?”
Clarissa turned her head, tangled auburn hair trailing over her face.
“No,” she said, and smiled.