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His first night at Josephine Barry’s was disconcerting, to say the least. He couldn’t say he’d thought much of it through–running away from home to live with a wealthy old woman in Charlottetown who he had only met twice. When he changed the course of his life when by choosing not to board the train with Anne that afternoon. When left Avonlea under pressure from Anne and when it was time to go home, he wanted to stay. Anne was right. A change of scenery was what he needed to lift his spirits, and today’s adventure had only proved to him that this was where he needed to be.
He’d come to Charlottetown with nothing but the clothes on his back and spare change in his pockets, without any thought of consequences. It sounded even more insane each time he thought about it. The fact that he was here, lying awake in one of the mansion’s infinite rooms, in a bed that felt too big for him to sleep in alone. Frankly, it still felt like a dream. Part of him expected to wake up in his creaky bed at home, on the farm, shoulder to shoulder with his siblings. He’d undoubtedly had a lovely time dining with Aunt Jo after making his way back to the house alone. She hadn’t poked or prodded him for his life’s story or made him feel as if he was something to be pitied, even when he dropped his fork because his hand was shaking so much. Instead, she allowed them to eat in relative silence–save for the pounding of his heart in his chest that he was sure was audible, and simple conversation about his journey back, before Rowling had come to escort him to his room.
But the thrill of the day’s rebellion and adventure had to subside eventually, and when it did, he began to wonder–what next? Will mother and father come looking for him? What would Aunt Jo do? Will she want to see him in school? What will his sisters think of their missing brother? He then thought of Anne, about if he would see her again? Or Diana if the Barry’s came to visit. What would she, or her family have to say? How strange it must look for a childless old woman to suddenly take in a poor young boy of fifteen to live in her grand mansion.
What exactly was a farm boy from Avonlea doing in a house like this?
Cole hadn’t thought much of his parents until then and he wondered if he should feel guilty for abandoning them without saying goodbye. He already missed his younger sisters. Maybe he’d write them all letters one day to say that he was never going back. Perhaps he’d mention the fact that he fancied boys, or that he was now living with a woman who was like him too. One scandal after the other–would his parents even live to the read the letter from beginning to end?
His mind continued to run wild with the contemplation of what this new life could–or would bring him. All he knew of the next day was that he would be taken into town to purchase some new clothes. The rest was nothing but a blank slate before him.
His overthinking eventually began to wear him out, his mind begging for the sweet relief of sleep, so he turned off the (electric!) bedside lamp and sank into the pillows.
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He woke up the next morning with beams of sunlight filtering through the delicate lace curtains and reflecting off the crystal chandelier. The ornate chestnut drawers gleamed, and the white bedcovers resembled clouds in his half-awake state, in which he nested himself even further into. No rooster crow to rouse him at the crack of dawn, no cows to be attended to or troughs to fill. Utter. Bliss.
Getting used to this life might be easier than expected.
Then he realised he had no clue how to behave here. Would Aunt Jo be awake already? Was he late for something? What time is it? He decided he should start with what he did know. He splashed his face with water from the basin, put on his (only) clothes from yesterday and left the room in search for Aunt Jo.
After several twists, turns and a little guidance from a servant throughout the decorated hallways, he found Aunt Jo taking her breakfast in one of the dining rooms. He stood gawkily in the doorframe.
“Uh, good morning, Aunt Jo.” He tried to sound cheerful and polite, but his nerves made the greeting fall flat. She didn’t seem to care. Or at least she pretended not to.
“Good morning Cole! Come, sit. I was wondering when you’d come and join me.” She responded brightly, gesturing him over with her free hand.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” He fidgeted with his hat in his hands.
“Not at all dear, now have something to eat.”
Cole tried to keep his eyes from widening at the small yet beautiful spread in front of him as he sat down. Aunt Jo smiled as Cole poked his fork into a piece of cheddar cheese. He knew the answer to his question, but he asked her anyway. He didn’t want to seem impolite. “Are we headed anywhere today?”
“Yes, yes we are. I’ve arranged for us to head to town to get you some new clothes. I don’t mean to insult you dear boy but if you’re going to live with me, you should dress the part.” She leaned in slightly and raised her eyebrows. “Especially considering what I have in mind.”
“Of course. Thank you, Aunt Jo.” He didn’t dare ask what she had in mind.
One hour later, after a delectable breakfast and carriage ride to the higher end of Charlotte town, Cole found himself inside a store where mannequins modelled the most magnificent men's fashions and the walls were lined with piles upon piles of luxurious fabric. He tried on shirts, waistcoats and trousers so impeccable and crisp he hardly recognised himself in the mirror. He even tried a shirt that needed cufflinks. The attendant looked at him with a peculiar mix of distaste and confusion when he entered in his worn overcoat and boots with soles that were steps away from falling off, but bless her sweet soul, Aunt Jo weaved a pitiful tale of a recently orphaned distant relative who she had so kindly decided to care for herself. It was a story so expertly improvised Anne would be foaming at the mouth if she’d heard it.
In the end, he praised her for her altruistic acts, and he left in a brand-new outfit, with even more clothes in the boxes the footman was carrying back to the carriage. He truly felt like a new man. Or at least he looked the part. She even purchased him three new pairs of shoes. It was funny to think about how only a few weeks ago he thought himself selfish for even wanting to ask for a plain pair of boots after he’d accidentally dragged them through the mud on the farm. Now he wore boots that shined like the sun. For heaven’s sakes, he’d even acquired a top hat. As if he were a gentleman. Cole Mackenzie, who are you?
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“I’d like to thank you for today, Aunt Jo. Really, I’m grateful. The clothes are incredible.” She looked up at him and smiled fondly.
“Oh, it was nothing. In fact, it was my pleasure to see you enjoy yourself so. You’re excellent company for an old woman like me.” A moment of silence passed between the two.
“It must get lonely in a house this size…” said Cole, sitting down at the other end of the sofa.
“I suppose it does. Gertrude made every day feel like a soiree.” The longing in her voice made itself apparent every time she spoke of her. It only made Cole want to know more about who Josephine Barry was. Her stories. Her memories.
“What you and Gertrude had was so special…”
“Don’t sound so sombre my dear, you’ve plenty of time to enjoy the wonders of life.” She responded with a teasing lilt. “You’d be quite surprised at how many likeminded people you can find when you look in the right places.”
“People like you? And me?”
The party had introduced him to the many peculiar personalities whom Aunt Jo called her friends, but he couldn’t imagine how they’d found each other in the first place. You hardly saw women in trousers and men in feathered hats out in public. He was sure it was actually illegal, come to think of it. It was certainly against the law to be like him. He thought of Mr Philips, his schoolteacher who despised him so, despite having something rather significant in common. At least that’s what he inferred.
“Did your family know? About the way you are. And Gertrude?”
“Nobody really suspected the true nature of our relationship. No one really suspects anything until you give them a reason to. And we were never ashamed of it. Not a single day went by where I second-guessed what we had. Our parents were disappointed that we never married–we were rather catching young ladies back in our day.” She raised an eyebrow in his direction and continued. “They tried to find me a suitable husband, as parents do. I think I was around your age when I realised, I would never be attracted to any of the suitors the way I was with her.” Her eyes twinkled with the memories of her youth.
It was an abrupt shift in conversation, and he wondered whether or not he should’ve said it at all. He says it anyways. “I think Mr Philips is like me. Attracted to boys–well, men. But he doesn’t want to be.” Josephine looked confused.
“My uh, old teacher. He was going to marry one of our classmates. Until she left him. At the altar.”
She responded with the sort of hum and slow, backwards head-tilt that people seemed to do when they’d been presented with an uncomfortable topic. He tensed, wondering if he’d made a mistake and offended her with his uncharitable speech. Instead, her face softened.
“What an unfortunate situation. A man forcing himself to marry so he can force himself into ordinary society, and a girl who thinks she’s in love and doesn’t know any better. I’m glad to hear it didn’t work out, and I’m gladder to think you won’t be taking that dreadful path.”
“Marriage?”
“No! Now I told the girls the same thing but believe me when I tell you that marriage is wonderful if love is why you marry. Gertrude and I were married in our own way for seventy-six glorious years.”
“Do you think I’ll find someone like that for myself? Anne and I get on like kindred spirits, but I think I’d prefer someone a little more…” he wasn’t quite comfortable admitting it so explicitly yet even though he’d confessed to her weeks ago.
“A fine, talented young man like yourself? Believe me, you’ll attract them like moths to a light.”
He buried his face in his hands, trying to cover up his laughter.
With a gentle hand on his shoulder, she sent him off to bed, both of them feeling more at ease than they’d felt in a long time.