Work Text:
22nd January 1805
Alexander rubbed his forehead. The insistent banging of pots and pans reverberated around his brain slighting his focus. It was hard enough to keep his mind on his work as it was. Memories of the day his first-born came into the world claimed his attention, causing his chest to ache painfully and pulling him into a despondent mood that left no space for his writings.
Eliza shared in his sorrow, struggling to keep her tears at bay during lunch, and so he had instructed Angelica Church to take his wife out of the house to distract her for the afternoon with Little Phil and Betsey in tow. He had thought he could oversee the older children without getting too disturbed, but William was only 7 and so he assumed he had got bored in his elder siblings presence and was causing a nuisance.
“William!” Alexander shouted out through his opened office door.
“Yes, Papa.” William appeared in the doorway, standing behind the threshold. His father’s office door was usually closed and even when it wasn’t the children knew not to bother their father when he was working so he didn’t dare cross without permission.
As Alexander opened his mouth to scold his son for the disruption another clang of pans came from the kitchen.
“Where is that clamouring coming from?” Alexander frowned, slamming his quill onto the desk in front of him.
“Angelica wants to make a pie.” William told him, twisting his fingers in his hands.
“A pie?” He grimaced as he remembered the last pie his dear daughter had attempted to make. She was distracted and followed the instructions incorrectly, yet no one had dared take her up on it and forced themselves to swallow it down after dinner so not to hurt her feelings.
William nodded. “She says she must make it for Philip.”
“Right.” He sighed, bringing his hand up to rub his forehead.
“Is it really Philip’s birthday today?” William asked.
Alexander looked at his son; no one had dared to mention the actual date on the calendar. He and Eliza knew it all too well and didn’t need reminding.
“It’s just, Angelica says it is. But sometimes she says things that aren’t quite correct.” William explained, looking down to his feet as he twists his heel into the floor.
Alexander found himself smiling at the movement, remembering Philip doing something similar when he was asking his father trying questions.
“Your sister is correct. Today is his birthday.”
“Oh.” William’s face lit up a little before falling again. “I think I should apologise to her.”
“Why?”
“I thought she was lying.”
Alexander feels a wave of sadness at his son’s admission. Sometimes his dearest daughter got confused and days and names would get mixed up in her mind. They all tried to be patient with her, but her siblings struggled at times and could get frustrated and be mean to her when she was getting things incorrect.
The older two boys found it particularly hard on the days Angelica insisted that Philip was still alive. It was difficult to move forward in grief when they were being told the person they were mourning was still alive on a daily basis. They tended to avoid their sister on such days to elude any further disputes. Sometimes they were jealous of her obliviousness to it all. But then they would see her on the days it came crashing down and consumed her. The days she couldn’t get out of bed, despite also not being able to sleep, the days she would lay in bed and stare into space, crying for her dear brother to come back home to them.
William noticed his father’s gloomy expression and turned on his heels, “I will apologise to her now, Papa, it will be okay.”
Alexander nodded as he watched his son run down the hallway. He pushed back from his desk, deciding he should probably see to his children himself. If not just to check they were okay, but to save them from another unfortunate pie situation.
As he got to the kitchen he caught the tail end of William’s apology. Angelica took it well and gave her sibling a hug, telling him it was okay and he could help make the pie if he desired.
He stepped further into the room and the servant, who had helped Angelica find the pans she needed, startled.
“Sir, I apologise, she was struggling to find a pan. I tried to deter her but she was insistent.” She explained.
“It quite alright. You may be dismissed, I will overlook the situation.” Alexander reassured.
“Papa!” Angelica exclaimed. “We are making a pie to celebrate Philip’s birthday!”
He smiles uneasily at her excitement, “I can see. May I ask if you were planning to follow a recipe?”
Angelica frowns and then lets out a chuckle, “Ah, I was going to try and do it from memory.”
That was what he was worried about.
“Why don’t we find the recipe for the pumpkin pie your mother makes? It was always one of Philip’s favourites.”
“Oh yes, it is his favourite!” Angelica agrees. “William, can you find Mama’s recipe book from the shelf for me?”
Once William is out of earshot Alexander moved closer to Angelica.
“It was his favourite.” He corrects her. It’s something they had gotten used to doing with Angelica, for some days she was lost in the past and got stuck in talking about him in the presence as if he could walk through the door any minute. Those days were wearisome for all involved.
“I know, Papa.” Angelica sighed.
“I’m sorry.” Alexander placed a hand on her arm in comfort, for himself as much as her.
“I think he would like that we are celebrating his birthday, don’t you?” Angelica quizzed.
It’s not something Alexander had thought about before. He believed that people went to a better place after they died, but could they really see their loved ones and feel joy for them celebrating without them? He wasn’t sure.
He decided to placate his daughter, however, “I’m sure he would.”
William walked back in with Eliza’s heavy recipe book in his arms, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth as he concentrated on not dropping it.
“Come on then. Let’s check we have all the ingredients.”
William had quickly gotten bored of the pie making and went to look for his older brothers to play with, leaving Angelica and Alexander alone in their baking endeavour.
Angelica was humming an absentminded tune as she stirred the mixture, Alexander watching her carefully.
“You look sad Papa.” Angelica noted out loud.
Alexander coughed, running a hand through his hair, his daughter was observant as ever “I suppose I am.” He replied honestly.
Angelica nodded and then huffed, “I hate dueling. I wish I had known what Philip was going to do so I could have stopped him.”
Alexander swallowed the lump in his throat. He did know what his son was going to do, and yet he didn’t stop him and almost ended up in one himself the previous summer. The guilt he felt hit him as unforgivingly as the hurricane that destroyed his town when he was just 17 years old. He nearly keeled over, leaning onto the sideboard to steady himself as his insides clenched disapprovingly.
“Papa?” Angelica looked over to her father alarmed.
He held up a hand in an attempt to quench her panic as he took in a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I know you knew he was going to duel, I didn’t mean… I wasn’t blaming you.” The words stumbled out of her mouth, the pie temporarily forgotten as she helped move her father to a chair at the small kitchen table.
“I know, my love, I know.”
Angelica took the seat next to him and waited for her father to regain his composure, holding his hand in hers, just like she had seen her mother do numerous times.
Once he came back to his senses, Alexander looked at his daughter. She seemed so grown up and present in the moment with him. He’d been so used to walking on eggshells around her and had got use to thinking of her as a child. He had to remind himself that she had already turned twenty years old.
“You know I knew about the duel?” He questions. “Do you all know?” Alexander had gotten used to the guilt he felt about not giving his son better advice, and he still sometimes sensed the blame Eliza felt he held over it too. But he could never endure the thought that his children blamed him as well.
“Alex and I heard you and mum fighting about it at the time. James found out too.”
She looked at her father’s pained expression and squeezed his hand, “We don’t blame you Papa.”
He squeezed her hand back in thanks, even as his eyes began to fill.
“I just wish we could turn back time and go back to when we were young again. Everything was so simple then.” Angelica sighed.
Alexander smiled at this, imagining his eldest children when they were young again. “Your brother was besotted with you when you were born.”
Angelica’s face lit up at this piece of information, even though she had heard it many times before.
“He was the best big brother.” She beamed.
“Even when he elaborated that game of hide and seek with you and Fanny just so he could leave you in the cupboard and go play outside with the boys?” Alexander asked, amused at the memory.
Angelica laughed out loud. They had waited in the cupboard for over an hour for Philip to find them. Her and Fanny had made a pact to refuse to talk to him for 24 hours after they unearthed his plan. Angelica, however, lasted less than an hour.
“I would forgive him anything.”
“Your Mama made him give you extra piano lessons during his free time as punishment.” Alexander chuckled.
“There are worst punishments.” Angelica grinned.
“Hmm”
“Like that awful school schedule you gave him.” She giggled as she got up and began mixing the ingredients again.
“That was not a punishment!” Alexander followed her and checked the pastry.
“Well, it seemed like one.”
“Philip never complained of it.” Alexander placed the base next to her.
“Not to you he didn’t.” Angelica smirked.
Alexander raised and eyebrow and thought back to the schedule he had created for his son. Maybe it had been on the heavy side, but he only wanted the best education for his son.
“I wish we spoke about Philip more.” Angelica felt tears welling in her eyes. “I know you disapprove of it, but I find it comforting to think of him often.”
“I don’t disapprove of you my love.” Alexander looked at her sadly.
“But I feel as if we can’t mention his name in this house.” She admitted.
He considered this; it probably did seem that way. Alexander has always found it challenging to talk of his feelings, and as the mere mention of his son causes his heart to ache, he preferred to not be reminded.
“I’m sorry you feel that way. I suppose I worry it will upset your mother, but you’re right, it is nice to think about him”
“Mama likes talking of him too.” Angelica informed him.
He frowned at this; Eliza rarely mentioned Philip to him. Was that through her not wanting to talk of him, or was she just being sensitive to his needs?
“We talk of him often on the nights I find most difficult. It doesn’t always work, but sometimes it does. Or there are times when I have a dream and I can’t quite place whether it was real or a memory and Mama will confirm it for me, or tell me of similar stories that are real. Sometimes we stay up for hours remembering him.”
Alexander took in the information his daughter shared with him. He always thought Eliza couldn’t bear to be in the same bed as him on those nights she slipped out in the middle of the night. But maybe she was seeking to comfort their daughter, and herself. He felt terrible that he wasn’t the one she’d go to, but it was true; he didn’t like to hear mentions of Philip for all the feelings of grief and remorse it summoned up within him.
Alexander placed a soft kiss to his daughter’s temple “I will strive to remember him with you and your Mama more often.”
They fell back into silence at they finished off the pie, thinking of the one they dearly missed.
Once the pie was complete and they had left it to cool down, Alexander and Angelica followed the sound of bickering into the salon.
“William, I do not want to read you another book. Find one you can read yourself!” John frustratingly moved the book his brother had placed in front of him to the side.
“But it’s not fair, I…” William stopped when he noticed his father had entered the room.
“Papa, John wont read to me!” He stuck out his bottom lip defiantly.
“Oh my poor lamb.” He ruffled his son’s hair.
“Stop this bickering.” Angelica announced clapping her hands together, sounding a lot like her mother.
“We must celebrate today, let’s play some music. Papa, do you still remember the song you used to sing with us when we were younger?” She questioned as she sat down at her piano.
“I could never forget it.” He smiled.
“Then come, sing with me.” She instructed.
He could feel the older two sons, who were in the middle of doing their tuition look at them with unease.
“Come on boys.” Alexander reassured them. “Let’s sing a song together, it will be fun.”
“We haven’t done that for years.” Alex stated, closing his book.
“No, it’s been too long.” Alexander moved towards the piano.
“I’m no good at singing.” James moaned.
“Well then be kind to our ears and just mouth the words.” Alex tormented, creating a laughing fit between John and William.
“Come on now, behave.” Alexander warned them, though he was smiling at the scene. They hadn’t been so cheerfully domestic for quite some time.
“Ready?” Angelica asked, gaining their attention as she began playing the tune that was so familiar to them all. William giggled, dancing around the room and forcing his older brothers to join him. Alex refused, but James was happy to discard the singing and join in.
And that’s how Eliza found them when she returned with her sister and the youngest two.
She raised an eyebrow at the sight.
“Come on Mama, we are celebrating Philip’s birthday!” Angelica cheered, pulling her mother towards her where she still sat at the piano.
Eliza looked over to Alexander questioningly.
He nodded and moved towards her to place a hand on her back. “It’s okay. She’s quite well.”
“Really?” The older Angelica questioned, looking unconvinced as her namesake got up and began to dance around the room with William, even though the music had stopped.
“She’s coherent, she knows he has passed, she just wanted to celebrate Philip and I do not feel there is any harm in doing so.” Alexander sharply replied.
Eliza took his hand in hers in an attempt to placate him. He looked down and saw the beginning of tears in her eyes.
“I’m sorry my love. Would you like us to stop?”
“No.” She shook her head with a watery smile, “I want to celebrate him too.”
“Eliza, it doesn’t seem healthy.” Angelica quietly told her, feeling concerned at the scene in front of her. Should they really be dancing around and acting so merry on such a sad day?
But Eliza ignored her sister, and sat down to play a song on the piano. It was one she had spent many hours teaching to Philip. Whilst he enjoyed playing the piano, he much preferred playing his own melodies and so teaching him could be a difficult feat.
Little Phil, who was in his aunt’s arms, clapped his hands together as the music began, reaching out for his father to hold him, whilst little Eliza skipped around the room with her siblings.
Alexander kissed his youngest son on the head and breathed him in. “My son.”
Young Angelica left her younger siblings dancing together and moved to her father’s side, placing a kiss on his cheek in thanks.
Alexander felt his heart swell and for the first time of the day a tear slipped down his cheek.
The older Angelica, who had previously felt skeptical, found herself smiling at the scene in front of her. They may have looked a little on the insane side, but they seemed more joyful than they had in a long time.
Eventually the music died out, everyone growing too hungry to continue the festivities and so dinner was served.
Once they were contented with full bellies Angelica let out a gasp, “The pie! We mustn’t forget the Pie!”
“The pie?” Eliza asked, alarmed. Alexander knew she too was thinking of the previous one their daughter had made.
“Yes, Papa and I made it earlier. Pumpkin, Philip’s favourite!”
Eliza looked towards her husband, a soft smile lifting her lips, “Did you now?”
He lifted her hand and placed a kiss on it with a grin, “I shall fetch it.”
“I will join you.” Eliza held onto his hand as she followed him out.
When they got to the kitchen Eliza was surprised to see the pie looking exactly as it should.
“Well, it doesn’t look awful.” She stated.
“Were you expecting it to?” He asked, mock hurt.
“Between you and our sweet daughter I can't say I had the greatest hope.”
“Hmm, well she followed the recipe correctly this time.” He stated looking over the pie, making sure it was to his satisfaction.
“Thank you.” Eliza stated, moving in to wrap her arms around him.
He did the same, pulling her close in his embrace. He didn’t need to ask what she was thankful for; he knew.
“I talked with Angelica, really talked, about Philip and, well, it felt good.” He told her, resting his head on top of hers.
“I really do not know how she would have coped if we had lost you too.” Eliza’s voice quivered, as she held onto him tighter. “She needs her father.”
He couldn’t bear thinking about it. He knew his daughter needed stability in the aftermath of the decline of her mental health. She had a lot more good days now that she did at first, but the tiniest upset could send her back into a state of disorientation within seconds.
“I miss him so much.” Eliza sighed into the quietness.
“Me too Betsey, me too.”
They stayed in each other’s embrace for a while longer, until they heard distant sounds from the dining room.
“We better let them test this pie out.” Alexander said as he picked it up.
“Hmm hopefully it will taste as good as it looks.”
“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised, my love.” He replied as they made their way back to their family.