XX

"Anne, you can't be serious."

"This isn't you. This isn't what Oma would've wanted."

"You can't give up on your dream."

"Please, just give yourself some breathing space before you make such a big decision."

"If you leave the show now, it'll ruin me."

"The show must go on. The show must go on. The show must go on."

A gasp of horror left her parted lips and Anne shot straight up, heaving and panting, shaking and sweating.

Then, she realised.

It was a nightmare.

She couldn't remember the last time that she had had a nightmare. It would've been a long time ago, as a teen, right after her mother succumbed to a severe case of pneumonia...

Several tears squeezed their way out of Anne's eyes and cascaded down the sore, tender skin of her cheeks.

Her gaze flittered across the apartment to where Deng Yan and W.D lay, in a deep sleep, on a pair of pallets that had been pushed up against the wall opposite her.

Trying to regain control of her breathing, Anne swallowed hard and kicked back the blankets covering her thin, haggard form. Soundlessly, she slipped across the room and retrieved her shoes and shawl from a misshapen pile near the front door.

Then, without a peep, she stepped outside into the cool grey of the early morning air.

Anne didn't know how she got there nor could she remember the if's, but's and why's. But, the next thing she was aware of, she was sitting on the edge of an old, rickety jetty that stretched its wooden boards out over the rippling waves of a huge, sparkling lake residing just outside of the city.

Screwing her eyes tightly shut, Anne recalled the day when, as a timid seven-year-old about to start her first year of school, Oma had awoken her very early in the morning, helped her put on her jacket, taken her hand and guided her down to the water's edge.

"Wohin gehen wir, Oma [Where are we going, Oma]?" she inquired curiously as they left the house.

"Du wirst sehen, mein kind, du wirst sehen [You shall see, my child, you shall see]," Oma returned gently.

When they arrived at the shores of the large lake, a young Anne spoke up, "Warum sind wir hier [Why are we here]?"

Oma just smiled and responded with, "Mein kind, wann immer du dich aufgeregt fühlst denke daran, dass ich immer in deinem herzen bei dir sein werde [My child, whenever you are feeling upset, remember that I will always be with you in your heart]."

As Anne's mind wandered back to the present, she was aroused by the sound of a familiar voice.

"Anne?"

She didn't need to turn around to see who it was. She already knew.

As she allowed the tears to flow freely down her cheeks, she spoke up, her tone a cracked and snuffy mess, "Oma always wanted to visit the ocean. The idea of so much water and no land appealed to her in a fascinating way. She used to come here everyday and pretend that she was at the beach, watching a row of sailors and their ships drift past or peering up at a formation of seagulls and pelicans. Now...now she'll never get to see it."

The scraping of boots against the wooden floor. A shuffling of feet, a fumbling of hands, a ring of a soothing tone and Anne found herself crying against the shoulder of Phillip Carlyle who had wrapped both arms snuggly around her shaking frame.

As she unleashed a bottle of emotions into his thick, leather jacket and listen to his words of comfort, she was unaware that, a mere few hundred metres away, stood another boy who had also come down to the docks to see her.

However, upon seeing Phillip and Anne sitting together, he paused to contemplate his decision for a few brief seconds before turning and walking away.

It was a while before Anne could pull herself together but when she did, she stumbled around for an apology. "I - I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to impose. I - I..."

"Hey," Phillip grabbed her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. "Don't be silly. You could never impose on me. I'll always be here for you. You know that, right?"

Anne dipped her head to one side in acknowledgement of his statement. "Y-yeah...I - I know. I - I just..."

"What?"

"I'm not coming back to the show!" she suddenly blurted.

Phillip pulled back to stare, long and hard, at her for a minute. "What did you just say?"

"I'm not coming back to the show," Anne mumbled as her head drooped shamefacedly towards the ground. "I - I can't."

"Why not?"

"I can't keep testing the limits of Barnum's generosity. I can't keep wasting everybody's time and money. I - I need to leave ... to find a real job ... to earn solid money ... to help myself and W.D. I - I'm sorry."

Phillip shook his head vigourously. "Are you serious? You're just going to give up and leave? Just like that?"

Anne shrugged. "I guess so."

"No. No! I won't allow it!" he burst out. "Anne. You can't do this. Look, I don't care if I have to go to the freakin' moon and back, I'll work something out for you. I promise. I'm not going to let you go as easily as this. You love doing trapeze! Why? Why would you do this to yourself? To me?"

"I-it's not just that," Anne shook her head tearfully. "If I had listened to Oma and stayed at home, I would've been able to spend more time with her. I would've been able to cherish those last few days I had left with her. But did I? No. Instead, I threw it all away on some magical whim that will never come true."

Phillip's forehead creased into a frown. "A whim? What whim, Anne? You did it, okay? You did it! You've become the talk of New York. You've become one of the most important acts in the show. You've become a household name. No one else did that except for you. You! It was all you. You are an amazing, talented, beautiful, strong, independent woman and if I was your Oma, I would be so proud of you, Anne Wheeler."

Anne couldn't find the words to respond. She was too emotional. Quickly, she faced away from him and clamped both hands down on her mouth. As she tried to compose herself, Phillip leaned forward and fingered the tangled locks cascading down her back. "Come home with me, Anne. Come home with me and I promise that we'll figure this out...together."

"Home?" she whispered uncertainly.

"Home," Phillip affirmed with a smile.

When Anne entered the museum for the first time since her Oma's passing, it felt like an entirely different world and an entirely new place.

Charles, who was sitting on a hay bale near the door reading a ladies magazine, was the first to raise the alarm. "Guys! It's Anne! Anne's back!"

With joyous shouts and great gusto, the other performers dropped what they were doing and rushed towards her.

As she became swamped in a sea of jostling bodies, Anne couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "Oh my god. I was only gone for one night. How much could I have missed?"

At this, everyone fell silent and drew back.

Anne cast a glance of concern around the room. "Seriously? What happened?"

"It's Barnum, my dove," Lettie sighed. "He's gone. He left us behind to tour the country with Jenny Lind."

~~~~

"But I don't get it!" Anne protested venomously. "Jenny Lind? What potential, what profit does he see in travelling around with some fireball whose ready to explode at any minute? Trust me, one day she's just gonna get up and leave Barnum to eat her dust. Then he'll wish that he hadn't abandoned the show...and us."

"That's what I tried to tell him but..." Phillip shrugged and rolled his eyes.

Anne, along with W.D and Phillip, were assembled in Barnum's office. Phillip, who was temporarily in charge of the entire routine, was filling out some last-minute papers and W.D was sorting through some things he had to take to the new suite of rooms set aside for him and Anne upstairs.

"Well, there we go, all done," Phillip exclaimed as he flipped the paper over and snapped the cap back onto his pen. "It's official. W.D, welcome to the team. It's great to have you onboard."

"Thank you, Mr. Carlyle, really," W.D nodded appreciatively at him. "What you're doing for us - well, it's beyond words."

"Nonsense!" Phillip brushed him off. "I'm just doing the right thing, Mr Wheeler. It's what anyone else, including Barnum, would do. Now, now, I'm sure you're tired and hungry so let's fix you a bath and something to eat, hmm?"

As Anne pushed herself to her feet to follow her brother and Phillip out the door, she happened to glance back over her shoulder to where Bec was scrunched up over a cluttered desk in the corner of the room. His reading glasses were pushed up to the bridge of his nose and his head was buried deep in a book. He didn't even spare her a second glance.

As she walked out of the office, Anne's stomach dropped down to her feet and she realised that she didn't like it. She didn't like it at all.

Gif: Anne talks to Phillip by the docks.

Question of the update: If you were in Anne's situation, would you return to the museum with Phillip or would you quit and find another job?

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