The Vanished Shadows
“Come at once, Annie! Its urgent! Im waiting for you. You need to know the truth.”
An odd, unsettling letter from her aunt sent a shiver through Annie.
Aunt Rachel, whom Annie called Mum Rachel, loved to write long, detailed letters. Real ones, on paper, that rustled faintly when you brought them out of a coat pocket. Shed send them by post, just as she had in the days when Annie wasnt even a thought on this earth.
Im a relic, Annie-love! Aunt Rachel would mutter, poking at the keyboard of the laptop Annie had given her for her birthday. Too late to learn these new-fangled ways. Lifeless contraptions! Id rather take a pen, sit at my table, and scrawl you a real letter. Just like my mum did, when I was off studying in the city. Shed write reams, whole exercise books, and send them along with a parcel of treats. Biscuits, jams, oddments of her own makingnothing so special, but so delicious youd think youd lost your mind! And the apple cheese shed make! The whole hostel would line up for a taste. And the lettersno one else ever wrote like that, not really. They read like novels, those letters. All the family stories tucked inside, all her hopes and sorrows, and meher last surviving child.
Last? Annie would ask.
There were four of us, Annie. Three girls and a lad.
What happened to them?
Its a long story. My brother left after Chern–, well, after an accident. Walked right into disaster. We couldnt save him. He was young, never really understood what was happening. An uncle promised him work in town, said hed help. After Dad was gone, Mum accepted the offer. Ive no idea if she ever regretted itshe never reproached him, and took in his daughter when the time came. Grew up alongside Lucy, my cousinshe was more like a sister.
Why was that?
I was the youngest by a long way, Annie. My sisters already had families when I was born. Mum used to walk me down the street and hide her eyes, though I knew, inside, she was happy. Shed say I was a keepsake from Dad. He never saw me, never knew if Id be a boy or girl
What happened to your sisters, Mum Rachel?
There was a fire, darling. A terrible, consuming fire. My sisters lived in a house divided into two halves, a gift by their gran. The husbands fiddled about and changed the layout, planned that living together would make life easier and merrier. But the electrician botched the wires. Maybe tipsy, maybe just careless. The fire caught in the night, while everyone slept. Of everyone inside, only Lucy and my youngest niece escaped. They were sharing a bed after a sleepover. Lucy woke to the smell of smoke, grabbed the girl and leapt from the window. She called the neighbours, tried to re-enter, but no one let her. Chaos inside
How dreadful
It was, Annie. Mum took in Lucy at first. But then her other grandmother, the one whod lost her only son, came and pleaded to take the child. She had no-one left but her. Mum agreed, said she still had me and Lucy, and one needed a heart. They moved nearby to stay close. Gran Noreen and Nancyyou know them well. We stayed close all through the years.
And Lucy? Why have I barely heard about her?
Oh Annie, not now. Another time! Go, get into the larder. I made jam for you. Something for you girls to spread on bread with your evening tea.
Annie had raised the topic often, never understanding why her aunt refused to speak of Lucy, the cousin who was once closer than any sibling. She talked of everyone else, even though Annie could see the effort it took, the quivering tears threatening whenever she spoke of her brother and sisters. But on the subject of Lucy, Aunt Rachel withdrew, clammed up entirely.
Annie hadn’t seen a single grown-up photo of Lucy in Rachels house. Only two or three, from childhood: two wild-eyed girls in matching dresses, arms tight around each other as if they couldnt be prised apart.
As a teenager obsessed with mystery novels, Annie had once blurted out the question: was Lucy, perhaps, really her mother? Annie knew she was Rachels niece, but about her actual parents, she knew nothing. Not until Aunt Rachel told her the story of their family did Annie fit the puzzle pieces togetherthere were no other candidates but Lucy.
Yet Rachel stayed silent, refusing to answer any pointed questions.
All in due time, Annie. Its not my secret to tell. Dont ask, please. Youll know when youre ready. You dont want to hurt me, do you? Ive loved you as my own, always raised you as a daughter. I have no one closer.
Annie would feel deeply ashamed then, always apologising, and the subject would fade away. There were always enough present worries to crowd out the past, and Aunt Rachel had a point: Annie had always had a mother, and couldnt have wished for a better one.
Rachel had found Annie a room in town, away from the student hostelscant let you fall in with the wrong crowdand came every week to check on her, bringing farm milk, cream, and homemade goodies that no student could afford.
I cant send money but I can feed you up a bit, Aunt Rachel would smile, unpacking her magic carpetbag of earthy gifts.
And how cross shed been when Annie, after her first part-time job, tried to pass her some of her wages!
Rachel had been genuinely wounded.
Save it for something special yourself! I want for nothing. Just be happy and healthy, and thats all I ask. Dont you dare try that again!
So Annie bought her aunt a fine tablecloth and spent months crocheting a lace border and tassels to finish it, gifting it for Christmas. Aunt Rachel, upon seeing it, gasped so loudly the cat tumbled off the range:
What a marvel! You made this? Golden hands, my girl!
Annie wanted to say those hands were Rachels doing, patiently taught to thread a needle, to knit and crochet, to keep at it, again and again until it all fell into place.
Itll all work out. Give it time! was Rachels favourite phrase. She encouraged Annie as she crammed for exams, when she doubted she should start a business, when Annie oscillated over opening her first dressmaking shop. Whats the worst that can happen? Try! Youll never know unless you do.
And so Annie stood tall, running a neat and ordinary network of tailoring shops around the city, even opening a fledgling House of Fashion with bespoke dresses for those who could afford it.
It had been a rocky road at first. Annie had all but wept with joy when Rachel sold a bit of land she’d inherited, bringing Annie some money and laying out commands:
“Buy good machines. Ask a proper engineer which is best. I can add more if its needed. Dont keep quiet! And set up somewhere busya bus stop, perhaps! The livelier it is, the better people notice. And mind your conscience! One day, one shoddy job and thatll be your ruin! Do it well and theyll always return.”
Annie remembered every word. She always handpicked her staff, never taking recommendations on trust. Bring them in. Ill see what they can do myself. She never compromised, knowing once she started, it would never end.
Then Andrew appeared and love blossomed. They married, and Andrew, ever organised, took over the business side, letting Annie focus on creativity. The family firm flourished. Annie was now a mum to two lovely girls, but still, Aunt Rachel refused to move in, always saying her own house pulled at her heart, empty though it was now.
My time will come, Annie. Till then, I want to be my own mistress. Its all mine here, and all my people walk with meshadow-side. It comforts me. You have your life now, and that’s what I always hoped for you.”
Annie never pushed. Shed remind her aunt there was a room waiting in their airy new house, and leave it there. She knew Rachel wouldnt be swayed.
And then the strange letter arrived
Something inside Annie knew the truth Rachel mentioned was about Lucy. Why she had to know it now, Annie couldnt explain.
Rachels house looked gloomy and watchful, lurking among a tangle of bronzed autumn trees, bay windows blinking at the dipping sun. Annie nudged open the gate, paused to stroke Toby, the aging spaniel yelping with delight, and counted the front steps aloud:
One, two, three
Rachel greeted her at the threshold, hands wiping off on her embroidered apron.
There you are. I’ve made pies.
Mum Rachel
Later, Annie. Have a wash. I’ll lay the table.
Rachel bustled, glancing sideways at her silent niece, both drinking one another in.
New haircut suits you
Had no time for long hair these days
Annie spun a crumb of dough between thumb and forefinger, waiting. She knew there was no rushing Aunt Rachel. When Rachel was ready, shed speak.
There! Pickled onions. You always want these now, yes?
Annie nearly choked. She hadn’t told a soul she was pregnant. Even Andrew didnt know yet.
How did you
I know, of course! Or arent you my daughter?
Rachels eyes turned dark, and Annie shivered a little inside.
Here it wasthe moment shed come for. The moment spelled out in Rachels letter.
My times up, Mum Rachel? Annie whispered.
It is. Rachel nodded, placing a carved wooden box on the table. Open it.
Annie recognised the old, dark oak box, always firmly locked, edged in brass, with a cunning little lock. It had belonged to Rachels grandmother.
She didnt know what it held. Shed seen Aunt Rachel tuck papers inside once as a child, and lost interestthere were no treasures there, just loose sheets.
But now, those scraps would reveal the mystery Annie had craved her whole life.
So Lucy really is my mother? Annie turned the brittle pages of delicate, cramped handwriting.
Yes. Youve always known, havent you?
But why Annie tried, but her voice wavered.
Why did she leave? She had her reasons, love. Ill tell you everything, only listen, and please, dont interrupt. Its hard enough for me.
Wait, Mum Rachel! Just one thing! Is she alive? Annie clutched a letter so tightly her fingers tore the corner.
No, my love Lucys gone, long ago
Rachel wept and wept, and Annie could only sit, lost for how to comfort her.
Dusk deepened. The shadows on the walls pressed closer to the circle of lamplight cast over the tablelamplight falling through a forgotten schoolgirls knotted lampshade. The shadows crowded round, eavesdropping, as Rachel, spooned into her shawl, kept on and on, as if fearing shed never be able to finish.
Your mum, Annie, was braver than anyone. Not afraid of a thing, shed climb a roof and leap down with the boys, but she never lost her sense. Shed lost her parents, her brother, her sistersmuch too young. She was sent away to the coast to recover her health, and by the time she was ready to return well, there was nowhere to return to. Her kin were gone, and my mum took her in. She became my sister, not just a guest. The closest friend I ever had. We told each other everythinguntil love got in the way
What happened? Annie asked.
We both fell for the same boy. Never planned it, never meant to, but that’s how it was.
Blimey Annie breathed.
We gave him up when we found outneither of us wanted to come between the other. But hed already noticed Lucy
And?
He wasnt a good person. Not at all. We didnt see it, but He forced himself on your mother, waited for her by the riverside, and did what he did. Then threatened to spread tales about her all over the village if she breathed a word.
Would anyone have believed him?
Who knows? But Lucy decided to say nothing, to protect me: Whod marry you if they knew your sister was disgraced?that sort of old talk. She told my mother in confidence, then went off to the city to work at a factory. It was there she learned she was carrying you. Abortion wasnt possiblefor some reason, shed never have children again, they said. So she chose to give birth, but knew she couldnt raise you. She felt soiled through and through, and nothing would wash that off. She couldnt forgive herself, or the world.
And him?
Well, as the saying goes, Gods not blind. Less than half a year on, he drowned in that same river where it all happened. Walked in drunk and was swept under, stuck under a branch or somethingnobody really knew. His mother screamed curses at Lucy, said she jinxed him, but nobody listened. Whether people guessed, who knows. When I came back from the city with you, not one person said a thing. They just helped where they could, thats all.
And my mother?
She went up North, married, but had hardly any time before sickness got her. She fought, she did, but couldnt win. Before she passed, she sent for me, asked me to bring you, just once. You wouldnt rememberyou were tiny. But straight into her arms you went, no asking. We stayed with her more than a month, but then Lucy made us leave. The illness, the pain, she didnt want to scare you.
Annie sifted through the letters, arranging the envelopes by their faded postmarks.
She wrote every day Wanted to know every detail about you
Tears finally came. Annie wept, staring at a photograph Rachel slid across to her.
It was an unfamiliar imagea young woman, slim as a reed, holding a baby girlAnnie herself.
Theres none left of you both together, Annie. But please, know she loved you, past, memory, all of it. She loved you! She always dreamed of taking you back, if thered been time. Fate decided otherwise
Why now, Mum Rachel? Annie asked the question that had gnawed at her since shed received the letter.
I had a dream, Annie. I saw your mother, clear as day, sitting just where you are, watching me. Not angrysad, perhaps, but then she smiled. Youll have a granddaughter, Rachel! Its time. I woke and could hardly remember myself, the dream was so real. Thats when I wrote to you and rummaged for the photo. Seeing you, all words left me. Look! Dont you see?
Annie looked at her mothers face, astonished by how alike they were.
Spitting image, you are! Seems fate spared you, not a scrap of your father in you. May you be happy, Annie, you and your girls!
Its not fate, Annie broke away from the photo. Its people, Mum Rachel! Without you, who knows what would have become of me? If Id gone to an orphanagehow would I know how to love my children, cherish a family, value what I have? You taught me all of that. Remember how you said, if people love each other, theyre like needle and thread, stitching beauty where they go? That was your lesson, and I remember it. And Lucy I thank her for giving me life. But Ive only one mum, and thats you!
Annies slender fingers brushed the tears from Rachels cheeks, and quietly, the shadows, seeing there was no longer any place for them here, slipped away into the corners.
Shall we have tea? Rachel sniffed, kissing Annies palm.
And pie, too! Were starving, Mum Rachel! Annie gently collected the letters, tucked them back into the box, and shut the lid with finality, making room for a plate of pies. There! Thats better.
Annie traced the carved Boxs lid one last time, then put it firmly away. The past, shed decided, no longer owned her.
Time enough now to puzzle out the future.
