The memories of Adaline (Jacob Frye x OC)

Chapter 2; Eleanor

Eleanor
September 1845

"Chrysanthemum, family bond. Dahlia, dignity. Aconite, chivalry..." I listed the names and the floriographic meanings of the autumn flowers. It has been a whole year since my mother started teaching me the language of petals. It all started with a daisy, and by the sixth autumn of my childhood I already knew the secret meaning of around thirty flowers. Whether it was really thirty, only my mother knew, because I was more interested in the art of floriography than arithmetic, and this was proven by the fact that even now I could only count to ten. "Crocus, cheerfulness..." I continued. I was enjoying the rays of the early afternoon sun in the flower garden of the Lanchester House. Minutes ago I was looking for the caterpillar that was on the carnation stem not so long ago, but now it was hiding somewhereunder the leaves.

"Adaline, darling! Where are you?" the lady of our house was looking for me, when I glanced at the pansy flowers. I was still a little girl, so the flowers and leaves of the kerria bush hid me.

"I'm here, Mom!"

"Come! We have guests." she informed me. I didn't even ask her who visited our home, because I knew the answer. The Blackburn family. Why else would my mother want me to spend the afternoon between the four walls on a sunny Sunday, if not because of them?

Besides them, the Parker family was a regular visitor at the Lanchester House, but they always choose the Fridays to visit us and have pleasant conversations. And the old Mrs Watson, the wife of the barber. She often visited us, but she and her husband moved to the countryside at the beginning of spring, so these days they visit London only once a month, because two of their four children still lived here. I missed Mrs Watson and her delicious homemade pear jam, she always brought us some. No one ever made pear jam as delicious as her.

I was about to ask my mother if we could ask the Watsons for the recipe of the pear jam the next time we meet, but then I saw our guests. I was wrong. It wasn't the relatives sitting in the lounge, it was the Parker family. Well, only Mrs Parker and her nine-year-old daughter.

"ADALINE!" Eleanor greeted me with a huge smile. She hugged me so fast that I didn't even have time to speak. But of course I didn't mind, since she was my best friend. To be honest, maybe the only one. I wanted to make friends with others, mostly during our walks in the parks, but I found it difficult to spend time with children who took not only the toys away from other children, but even wanted all of the chestnuts under the trees for themselves. Last summer there were two young girls with whom I enjoyed playing around the plum trees, but they were only temporarily visitors in London. And yes, I had my cousin, Clarissa Blackburn, who was a really nice and adventurous girl, but Eleanor was different. She accepted me unconditionally as I was, and I was overjoyed about that. She never mentioned that my left hand was more dominant and she brought me something small every time her family visited us. Last time she brought me two green apples, and before that she brought me a notebook. She wrote all the letters of our alphabet for me on the first page and asked me to practice writing them nicely, just as she did, so that we can send letters to each other in the future. I did as she asked. I have already learnt the letters A, F and L. The initials of my name, so that she always will know which letter came from me.

Oh, and speaking of alphabet... I also knew my mother's and my father's monograms.
A. L., my mother, Alexandra Lanchester.
A. L., my father, Arthur Lanchester.
A. F. L., me, Adaline Flavia Lanchester.

'Hmm... Thanks to Grandma, Eleanor will definitely know which letter is mine.'

Our mothers have been friends for a long time. They met for the first time at the finishing school, where they got to know each other and grew from young girls to mature ladies together. Eleanor and I owe our friendship to theirs. They spent time together every Friday. Sometimes here, sometimes at the Parker family's home, sometimes in the park. We saw each other at the Saint Margaret's Church on Sundays, and sometimes they had a little time to talk in the market.