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“Joey? Are you really, truly to be married, then?” Robin asked.
Joey had found Robin curled up on a window seat at Die Rosen ten minutes ago, thinking sadly of her father, and had immediately asked for help in sorting out her gloves drawer. It was no part of Joey's policy to let Robin mope if she could help it! Robin, of course, had come at once, glad of anything she could do for her beloved Joey - and Joey certainly needed the help, for her gloves were in a mess that would have brought Matey's full wrath down on her if she had still been a schoolgirl. She had just handed a pair to Robin with the remark that Robin might see if they would fit her, as they were rather on the tight side for Joey and surely wouldn't fit over a ring, which had prompted Robin's question.
“I've told you I am!” Joey protested.
“Yes, I know, but I can't quite believe it. You've always said you would never marry, but would be a nice maiden aunt.”
Jo laughed, rather self-consciously. “I know I did, but - well - I changed my mind, or Jack changed it for me.”
“You've been friends since ages, of course,” Robin said, with one of the turns of speech that reminded one that French was her mother tongue. “But you've not… I mean, I didn't think…” she ran down rather confusedly, unable to put her thoughts into words.
“We haven't been flirting or anything like that, no.” Jo understood what Robin was trying to get at. “Like you say, we've been good friends; and now I realise that deep down, he'd become more than a friend, but I didn't want to see it because of my own silly stubbornness about not getting married. Then we had our picnic, and all the worry over you and Hilary, and he was such a support - and well, you know what happened next.”
“You called him a lump,” Robin said with a chuckle.
Jo went red. “This family has a most unholy trick of holding your words against you,” she complained. “I called him a lump of comfort , I'll thank you to remember, and I don't see why he and Madge think it's such a joke.”
“I'm sorry - ” Robin began anxiously, but Joey cut across her with a laugh.
“Oh, don't look so worried, my Robin! I do see it was a funny thing to say, really. I'd been so frightened and anxious I barely knew what I was saying. I just knew he was so comforting, and - and that I loved him, and it was no use trying to fool myself I didn't.”
“But why would you be trying to fool yourself?” Robin asked, brow wrinkling.
“Oh, pride, and stubbornness, and not wanting to grow up,” Joey replied. She looked at her little adopted sister thoughtfully. Robin was still such a child, would she understand? But she decided to keep going. Even if Robin didn't understand now, she would remember it later. “I realised I wanted to marry Jack more than I cared about anything else. I don't know if I can explain it, but you'll understand - I won't say when you're older, I know how infuriating that is! But when you find the thing you're meant to do, or the person you're meant to be with, you'll realise you can't do anything else.”
“I do see, I think,” Robin replied thoughtfully. “It is just that it seems so funny, after everything you've said.”
“Oh, I know! I expect to be well and truly ragged about it by everyone. So let that be a lesson to you, young Robin, not to make pronouncements about what you will or won't ever do!”
They both laughed at that, knowing that sweet, gentle Robin was not in the least given to making the grand statements Joey was prone to uttering.
“When will you be married, then?” Robin asked.
“As soon as we can be,” Jo replied. “With everything so unsettled, Jack wants the right to take care of me. And, Robin! We want you to come and live with us - if you'd like to, that is.”
Robin's eyes grew wide. “Oh, Zoey!” In her excitement, she fell back on the old baby pronunciation, speaking in her native French. “Vraiment?”
“Yes, of course! I can't do without you, and Jack wants to look after you, too - he says Jem's hands will be full enough as it is with their children and Dick's, not to speak of Margot and her pair, and the San on top of it all. So will you come?”
“I will, I will! At least,” with a belated recollection that her guardians might have opinions on the matter, “if Madge and Jem say I may.”
“Oh, they will,” Joey reassured her. “They know how much we mean to each other.”
Another thought had struck Robin, though. “But what about the children? I try to help out with them as much as possible, you know. Of course Rosa can manage without me, but - well - Jem and Madge have been so good to me, it seems…” she frowned for a moment, looking for a way to put her feelings into words, then found it in a favourite phrase of the School's. “Is it really playing the game, if I leave?”
It was Jo's turn now to look thoughtful. “I see what you mean, of course,” she said slowly. “But as you say, Rosa can manage without you - well, she has to in term-time! And the children themselves are getting older; even Sybil and Jackie aren't really babies, Rix to the contrary. Daisy and Peggy are old enough to help out now, too. And I'll need your help! I've never had my own house before, so I’m sure to do all sorts of silly things.”
Robin giggled at the last sentence. “It wouldn't be you if you didn't!” Then, more seriously, “And I could always go and stay with Madge and Jem if they needed an extra pair of hands, couldn't I? And you could have some of the children to stay sometimes?”
“Oh, I mean to,” Joey agreed. “I don't see why Madge should have all the fun! Now, that's the last of these gloves, thank goodness. I don’t know how they always get into such a mess! How would you like to help me plan the wedding? You must be one of my bridesmaids, of course.”
Robin eagerly agreed, and they set about laying plans, with no idea how many of them would never be carried out.
Robin was chuckling to herself as, rather past her usual bedtime, she mounted the stairs at Les Rosiers, Joey’s Guernsey home - and Robin’s too, Joey having kept to the offer made in faraway Tirol, and begged Madge to let Robin live with her and Jack practically as soon as they were married. Right after supper, Joey had been seized with a desire to tidy her admittedly messy study, so that she would have a fresh start in the morning. Naturally, Robin had offered to help, and so had been on hand to watch as Joey set an ink pot teetering, and in a wild attempt to catch it, sent it flying over the manuscript of her latest chapter! Her look of dismay had been so comical that even now, Robin couldn't help laughing as she made her way to the room that, after five months in Guernsey, was really beginning to feel like home.
But as she passed the door to the bedroom where Daisy was staying for the weekend, her giggles suddenly stopped. From inside came the unmistakable sound of muffled sobs.
It was not in Robin’s nature to ignore that. Turning the handle, she poked her head into the room. The door creaked, and Daisy sat up suddenly to look at her, tears streaming down her face.
“I - I'm sorry - I'm fine, re-really,” she choked out.
Ignoring that, Robin hurried across the room to pull her into a tight hug. “It's all right, Daisy,” she said softly. “Cry as much as you need to.” She had no need to ask why Daisy was crying; it was barely a month since Margot Venables had slipped away from them.
For a short while, Daisy sobbed into Robin’s shoulder, while the elder girl held her close and murmured soothing words. Presently, she exhausted her tears and pulled back a little.
“Thank you, Robin,” she said, voice still catching. “I didn't wake you, did I?”
Robin shook her head. “I was late coming up,” she said.
“I know it - it's better for Mummy, she was so tired, and she has the boys now. And I shouldn't - shouldn't fret, and I do try not to!” Daisy scrubbed fiercely at her eyes with her hands.
“I know you do,” Robin replied, handing over her own dainty handkerchief. “I've seen it. You’re being very brave, Daisy.”
“It's just - I miss her, and Prim's too little to understand, and I'm so - so alone!”
“I know how you feel,” Robin said softly. “I went through it myself not so long ago.”
“I know, that's why - why I can talk to you about it. You - you understand,” Daisy said, screwing up her eyes as she tried to fight back more tears.
“I do,” Robin replied, blinking hard herself as she thought back to the horrible time after losing her father. She remembered so well the same devastating feeling of being all alone in the world that Daisy was now facing - but she also remembered the love with which Joey and Madge and Jem had shown her she wasn’t and never would be, if they had any say in it. “You're not alone, Daisy, I promise. You have Jem and Madge, and Jack and Joey. They've never let me feel lonely for a moment, even though I'm not really related at all - and Jem's your proper uncle, so of course he’ll take care of you. And you have all your cousins… and Primula's too little now, but she'll be more of a companion to you soon.”
“It's not - not the same, though,” Daisy said.
Robin sighed. “No, it's not… but it can still be good, and you can still be happy. I know it may not seem like it now, but you will be, I promise. And that doesn’t mean you’ll forget your mother, or love her any less! You'll always remember her, but the bitterness will go out of it.” Half to herself, she added, “And then you'll be luckier than Prim, in a way.”
“What do you mean?” Daisy asked.
“Well, I was about Prim's age when Maman died,” Robin said. “And I have some memories - I remember her singing, most of all - but a lot of it is more memories of stories Papa told me. You'll be able to remember your mother much better than she will.”
“I hadn't thought of that,” Daisy said slowly. “Should… should I tell her stories about Mummy, then?”
“Not now, I think - or not unless you want to, at least,” Robin answered. “I think right now it might still be too painful for you, and she's too young to need them as much as she will later. But she'll want them in time, and you’ll want to tell them.”
Daisy nodded, giving her face a final scrub with Robin’s handkerchief. “I'll remember. Thank you, Robin.”
“Do you think you can sleep now?” Robin asked, with an eye to the younger girl's weary face.
“I think so…” Daisy looked at her with eyes full of mute appeal.
“I'll stay until you're off,” Robin promised. Then, half dubious, she asked, “Would you like me to sing to you?”
“Oh, would you?”
“Of course! Lie down now, and close your eyes.”
Daisy did as she was told, and Robin stood to pull the covers up, making sure she was well tucked in. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed again, dropped a kiss on her forehead, and began to sing. There was only one song possible, of course. In her sweet voice, Robin sang “The Red Sarafan”, tears coming to her own eyes as she remembered her long-gone mother singing it for her.
She sang it through twice, as Daisy's breathing evened out into the slow, deep breaths of sleep. Then she tiptoed out of the room, and eased the door closed.
Robin had expected Joey to be in bed by this time - unless she was still scrubbing ink off her hands! So she barely bit back a yelp of surprise when she opened her own door to find Joey sitting there in Robin’s easy chair.
“Shh! You'll wake Daisy again!” Joey scolded.
“Well, don't startle me like that, then,” Robin retorted, in the same low tone they both knew would carry less than a whisper. “Whatever are you doing here?”
“I heard your voices as I went past Daisy's room,” Joey explained. “How is she?”
“Asleep now,” Robin said. “She's trying so hard to be plucky, poor kid, but she can't help missing her mother.”
“I know. I'm grateful you went to her.”
“Is it likely I'd just ignore her when I heard her crying?” Robin demanded indignantly.
“Keep your hair on! I didn't mean that. I mean I'm grateful you heard her; you can help her more than I can, because you've been through it yourself.”
“You lost your parents too - and you helped me a lot. I want to do that for Daisy, if I can.”
“I was just a baby when my parents died, though,” Joey pointed out. “I don't remember them at all; Madge is the closest thing to one I've ever known. And it's different with you, we've been like sisters from the start, but Daisy looks on me more as an aunt, as one of the grown-ups. You're still at school - or will be when we can get started again - and much closer to her age.”
“I don’t know if age matters that much,” Robin said. “There’s six years between us, after all… But it’s true that Daisy thinks of you as an aunt, not a sister, while she thinks of me as a sort of cousin. That’s what we usually say when anyone asks, at least - it would take far too long to explain every time!”
“I wonder if I should offer to have Daisy and Primula live with me?” Joey mused. “A change might be good for them. And again, you're closer in age to Daisy than anyone else is. Though she's still much younger than you are in a lot of ways… and Prim might miss the other nursery folk, too.”
“They visit us, or we visit them, practically every other day,” Robin pointed out. “And as you say, it could be good for them to have something different… you'd have to do it carefully, though, to make sure Daisy doesn't feel they're not wanted at Madge's. She was just saying she felt she was alone.”
“That's very wise, Robin,” Joey agreed. “We'd have to be careful to show it's not that Madge and Jem don't want them, but rather that we want them too. Still, it's an idea…” Then, jumping out of her chair, she said, “We can't do anything about it tonight, though, so we'd better get to bed, or goodness knows what time we'll get up in the morning!”
Before leaving, though, she pulled her adopted sister into a tight hug. “Good night, my Robin, and God bless you. I can't tell you how glad I am that you came to live with me!”
Robin hugged her back. “I’m so glad you asked me to! It made me so happy that you wanted me to live with you, to be part of your and Jack’s new family. And if I can help Daisy as you helped me, I’ll be even gladder.”