A/N: I do not own these characters, I am merely 'borrowing' them for the purpose of this story.
Chapter 1:
Mary's despair
Autumn, 1908
I ran pelting down the gravel path, with tears streaming down my face. Choking back sobs, I headed for the garden door.
My hand shook as I fumbled for the handle beneath the Ivy... breathing quickly, hurridly, I felt my fingers take hold of the cool metal and with trembling hands I turned the handle. Looking back quickly, to make sure no one was following me, I pushed the door open and found myself inside the secret garden.
Of course, the garden was never locked now, but even so, to me it was still a sanctuary. I felt my heart beat steady and grow quiet, as I drew breath and walked towards the large swing in the corner of the garden. The sun was fading, leaving an amber tint on the flowers and plants ... the day was drawing to a close. I trembled and brushed the remaining tears from my cheeks. At least I would have sanctuary here, although for how long, I wasn't certain.
I was sure that my disappearance was to be expected, but how could they do this to me? didn't they know that everything I had ever wanted was right here? how could they? I just didn't understand, and worse, I could feel my heart breaking. I looked around me, at the beautiful roses glowing in the dusk, the old swing seat, which had seen so many happy summer days, in which the laughter of friends had echoed around the once still garden. I walked up to it, and traced my hand over the worn seat, then further upwards, feeling the familiarity of the rope beneath my hands. I sighed. To leave all this behind... all that I had known for the last five years, all that I had experienced, and seen, since those dark days in India when my parents had died and I had been left alone.
I remembered then, how Dickon, Colin and I had brought the secret garden back to life. How once it had been a tangle of weeds and dead wood, ivy covering long held secrets, and a swing that had creaked slowly back and forth in the cold breeze. How the darkness had lifted, and hope and love slowly taken over and filled it with life once again. Despite myself, a small smile etched my face as I thought of those far off days – a smile that was tinged with sadness at the thought of what was to come.
'How can I leave this?' I whispered to the breeze.
Just then, a slow creaking sound came from the corner of the garden, towards the door. I turned quickly and looked over, and in the evening light of the setting sun, saw the garden door slowly open.
I had not expected anyone to come here, but found myself staring at the strapping figure of Dickon, as he entered the garden and made his way over the lawn to see me.
No longer the boy I had met five years ago, Dickon was now a rather tall and good natured, young man. He was still blessed with a head of thick, wavy (and often unruly) hair, and cheeks that glowed when he smiled. But Dickon had grown into a man these last couple of years, and now, irritatingly, towered over me. And never seemed to grow tired of pointing out the ever increasing difference in height.
Dickon and I had been friends since childhood, and he was someone I felt I could always rely on. We had grown even closer as friends ever since Colin had left to live in London. I watched him as he steadily made his way over to me, feeling relief build in my chest.
'Mary', he began, in his thick yorkshire accent, as he pensively approached me. 'I just heard tha' news...'
I tried my best to smile, hoping I didn't look as upset as I felt. 'Yes, no doubt the servants have been gossiping already – they've been lacking some good fodder recently.'
I heard him sigh, and he came closer to the swing, where I still sat, slowly rocking back and forth in the breeze. 'I'm sorry Miss Mary', he said softly.
'Dickon', I continued, my voice beginning to rise in passion, 'I don't want to go. How can I leave this place, it's been all I've known for so long... and the thought of going to London... that huge ugly city... away from all this... how can I leave it all behind?'
He awkwardly placed one hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him in wonder at how his touch could feel so soothing, so pure and right.
'I don't know lass, but Mary, nothing is certain yet, aye?'
I couldn't help but smile at his optimism, and reached up to hold his hand.
'Yes, I know... I just can't bear the thought of leaving, that's all.' I sighed. 'I'd better head back to the house... they'll be looking for me, I expect.'
He smiled back at me. 'Aye, I expect they will. Tha' made quite a departure from what I heard.'
I imagined what the servants would have said of my flight from the house, and I couldn't help but feel a little irritated. The servants at Misselthwaite loved to gossip, and no doubt this little incident would provide them with weeks of speculation and entertainment at my expense.
I got up off the swing, aided by Dickon's sturdy grip on my hand. The warm smell of Jasmine was now hanging in the air, and the light was fading fast. The garden was becoming shrouded in shadow, It was time to go back.
'Yes, well you know me. I do love to create a good dramatic scene. Someone has to keep the servants entertained, especially now that Colin has gone.'
Dickon laughed at my reference to Colin's childhood theatrics and temptuous fits of temper, which at times had been the talk of the town. At the sound of his laugh, I felt more at ease, and the future just then did not seem quite so bleak. His laughter died down and he looked towards me seriously.
'You know where ta' find me, Mary', he said earnestly, his hazel eyes holding my gaze. 'Meet me here t'morrow first thing in tha' morning? I will be here when it begins to grow light.'
The thought of spending time with Dickon made me smile. 'Alright then, as long as you walk me back to the house... and help me think of some excuse as to why I had to rush out so suddenly'.
He grinned at me, and offered me his arm 'with pleasure.'
Smiling, I took it, and we walked together through the twilight, back up the path towards Misselthwaite manor.
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