Anna wished she were a chameleon.
She imagined what it would be like, to change the appearance of one's skin so they could blend seamlessly into their surroundings. It would be so easy for her to go about the house from room to room, unnoticed and unbothered.
Right now, she wished she could slip into mahogany wood texture of the bookshelf in the office. She didn't want to be seen right now. All she wanted was to be left alone in the comfort of her father's books.
"Anna!" her stepmother called from across the foyer. "Supper is ready! You better come get it before it goes cold."
Anna ignored her and stayed sitting on the floor of the office, her back to the closed door. The room was lit orange from the golden hour sun shining in from bay windows: the perfect light for reading, Anna thought.
She flipped through the volume in her lap, skimming the words but mostly admiring the colorful illustrations printed on the pages. Gallant knights, powerful sorcerers, exotic princesses: the adventures of fairy tale characters always seemed so comforting and welcoming to Anna. No matter what they were going through, everything always worked out for them in the end. The dragon was always slayed, the princess was always rescued, evil was always vanquished.
"Anna!" Christine called again. "Come down, please!"
Anna ignored her again, but this time, her call was accompanied by the sound of small feet running past the office door and up the staircase.
"Anna!" she heard a high little voice yell. "Come on, mummy said it's time to eat!"
With some reluctance, Anna stood up put the heavy book back onto the shelf where she got it. Carefully, she opened the office door just a crack so it wouldn't creak and slipped out into the foyer. She quickly stole into kitchen before the owner of the small feet could catch her.
Anna's stepmother, Christine, stood in the kitchen fixing a plate of roast and potatoes. Two more steaming plates already lay at the table, where Anna went and sat down.
Christine crossed over from the kitchen and set her plate at the head of the table. Her long blonde hair was tied back into a bun, and she wore a blue apron over her sweater. She was young, hardly 30, and had smooth, unwrinkled skin. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before looking at Anna sideways.
"Did you wash your hands?" Christine asked.
"No," Anna said. "You told me to come before it got cold, so I didn't have time."
"You could've washed your hands, silly," Christine said. "And please don't roll your eyes," she added just as Anna did so.
Anna heard the small feet descend the stairs and run around the corner as her five-year-old sister, Heather, burst into the kitchen.
"I didn't see her in her room.," Heather said. "I don't know where she is-" she stopped as she saw Anna. "Oh, there you are! Where were you?"
"None of your business," Anna said, picking up her fork and shifting around her potatoes. Heather made a face as she sat across the table, and Anna stuck out her tongue at Heather. Christine sat down and gave Anna another sideways look.
"You weren't in your father's office, were you?" Christine asked.
"No," Anna said without meeting her eyes.
Christine was not convinced. "You know you're not supposed to go in there," she said as she cut up her roast. "Daddy doesn't like anyone going in there without him." Anna said nothing. "He even told me I wasn't allowed to dust in there while he's away. Ab-so-lutely no one is to go in there." She deepened her voice so she sounded like a man, and Heather laughed. Anna fought back a smile, but Christine's impression of her father was so perfect, she couldn't help but laugh, too.
"I bet they'll be so much dust in there that daddy gets attacked by a dust monster when he gets back," Heather added, still laughing.
The smile immediately faded from Anna's face and she looked down at her food. She knew Heather didn't mean it, but that comment immediately sucked the joy out of the afternoon. Anna had been trying to be strong, trying to distract herself from thinking about the inevitable. But that one little phrase brought it back. Heather must have realized, too, because she stopped laughing.
When he gets back.
More like "if," Anna thought.
Christine noticed the sudden mood shift and looked between Anna and Heather. Then she turned back to her plate. "Just please don't go in there again," she said softly.
Anna rolled her eyes and ate a few bites of roast. Heather started chatting away again as if nothing happened, but Anna didn't listen. What a joke it was that her stepmother thought she could tell Anna where she could and couldn't go in her own house! Anna used to go wherever she pleased for years before Christine had been around. Now, she was walking on landmines in her own house, afraid of where to step next.
She felt like an outsider even sitting with Christine and Heather, nearly mirrored images of each other with their blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Anna had curly red hair, large brown eyes, and a light dusting of freckles across her nose. They were polar opposites.
Her father's office had always been a sanctuary, a safe place where Anna could curl up and read if she was sad, or come up with make believe stories to play. Now it was off-limits.
Anna didn't care; in fact, the fact that she wasn't allowed made her want to go in there more, just to purposefully disobey Christine. She didn't like to antagonize, but she couldn't help it. This had been her house first. Just she and her father. But lately, she felt like an intruder in her own home.
"Have you packed your things?" Christine asked, snapping Anna out of her thoughts.
"Hm?" Anna said, taking a few more bites of potatoes.
"I asked if you started packing your things," Christine said gently, as if she was also feeling out the ground for landmines.
"Not yet," Anna snapped back.
Christine sighed. "Anna," she said, a little more sternly, "you need to get started. You're leaving in a few days, and I don't want you to forget something at the last minute."
Anna didn't say anything, just kept pushing around her food but not eating it.
"I can help you pack!" Heather said cheerfully, her youthful innocence not detecting the thick tension in the room. Anna rolled her eyes.
"Anna, please," Christine said. "I know you're upset about leaving, but you have to pack."
"Dad wouldn't make me go," Anna said, finally bringing her eyes to Christine's. "He'd never send me away to live with some stranger."
Christine inhaled deeply, set her fork down and folder her hands into her lap. "Your father would do whatever it took to keep you safe," she said. "You'll be safe out of the city. Besides, Professor Kirke is not a stranger; your father worked with him at the university for years. He was at our wedding, and he's a wonderful man."
Anna also set her fork down and crossed her arms. "Why doesn't Heather have to go?" she asked, unable to hide the bitterness in her words. "Why can't I stay with Mathilde, too?"
"My sister's house isn't big enough for two more kids," Christine said. "And can you please call her Aunt Mathilde? I think she'd like that better. And please stop rolling your eyes when I'm speaking!"
"You just want to get rid of me!" Anna yelled, standing up from her seat, the built-up emotions suddenly taking over. "You don't want me around my own house anymore!"
"That's not it at all, Anna," Christine said, her voice wavering with emotion. "I love you, but I have to send you girls away. It's not safe here anymore. Blame this war, but don't blame me."
Across the table, Heather sat looking at the two of them, her blue eyes filling with tears.
Anna stormed from the kitchen, up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door shut. This was always what would happen whenever they talked about the war, or her father, or her being sent away.
She laid in bed for the rest of the evening, unable to focus on anything but the anxiety she felt deep in her chest. She was worried about leaving the place she had called home for the last 12 years. She was worried about having to live with a near-stranger. Mostly, though, she was worried about her father.
Later, when she heard Christine go to bed, Anna tiptoed down the stairs and into her father's office. She lay down on the soft rug, running her fingers along the edge where it met the hardwood floor. Her anxious thoughts finally calmed just from being in the room, and her eyes fluttered shut.
She dreamed she was horse riding in the middle of a vibrant autumn forest. She heard the galloping of another horse behind her, and when she looked, she saw her father waving. She felt a rush of joy at the wind blowing through her hair, the crisp smell of rotting leaves, the feeling of the horse's powerful muscles beneath her.
They came to a cliff overlooking the sea and dismounted to stare out at the vast expanse of blue. Anna was overwhelmed by its sheer vastness.
"Everything this touches is yours," her father said beside her. She looked at him, but he was staring at the ocean. His dark hair was thinning and the lines in his face showed many hours spent squinting at books, but his eyes looked merry.
"It's all for you, Anna bear," he said. "You can do whatever you want with it."
"What is, dad?" she asked.
But then her father was gone, and the bright oranges and reds in the trees weren't leaves, but flames. Anna searched around frantically for her father, but he had disappeared.
She heard sirens, and the fire on the trees seemed to be getting closer. She had to either face the flames, or jump into the sea.
"Daddy!" she wailed, but her father was nowhere to be seen.
The sirens got louder. She lost her footing and was suddenly falling backwards, off the cliff-
Anna woke with a jolt on the cold hardwood floor to very real sirens going off. She scrambled to her feet and swung open the office door to see Christine running down the stairs in her slippers, cradling a crying Heather in her arms.
"We've got to get the shelter!" Christine said, her eyes wide and terrified. She grabbed Anna by the arm and ran out the back door to the shelter opening. Anna heard loud thundering all around and saw airplanes flying low in the skyline, dropping bombs across the city.
"Get inside, Anna!" Christine grabbed her and threw her down the stairs.
She landed with a hard thud at the bottom and cried out as she scraped her knee. Christine sealed the shelter and rushed down. Heather sat on the bunk, eyes wide and red from crying. Christine pulled two blankets from the storage chest and gave one to Anna while she wrapped Heather in the other.
Anna wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and stared at her scratched knee, which had started to bleed.
"Come sit with us, Anna," Christine said, patting a spot on the bunk next to her. Heather was curled up next to her mom and was trying to keep a brave face while she dried the last of her tears.
Anna shook her head and stayed sitting on the floor.
"Please," Christine begged. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Just please, come sit with us."
Anna remained unmoved on the shelter floor, using the corner of the blanket to wipe away some of the blood on her knee. She heard a sniffling noise and looked over to see a single tear drip down Christine's face.
"Oh no, mommy, please don't cry!" Heather begged, her voice breaking. Christine only shook her head and pulled Heather closer, her chin trembling.
"You need to learn to grow up," Christine said to Anna. "Not everything in this world is about you."
Her voice didn't sound angry or sad, but disappointed, and that hurt Anna the most. She felt herself start to cry and turned away so Christine couldn't see her face.
Outside, the bombing thundered on.
...
It was a dreary summer morning when Anna evacuated. She sat in the front passenger seat of the car, letting her breath fog up the window as she rode to the train station. Christine was driving, and Heather sat in the backseat chatting away about something Anna wasn't listening to. She was absentmindedly drawing designs in the fog with her finger, letting her mind wander. The streets whisked by in a black and grey blur, like a watercolor painting that had been left out in the rain.
"I have some good news for you, Anna," Christine said, breaking into Heather's insistent talking. "Mrs. Macready, the professor's housekeeper, wrote and told me that they'll be four other kids staying in the mansion, too. That'll be fun, won't it? You won't be all by yourself."
"Yes," Anna replied, still staring out the window. She was relieved to hear it wouldn't just be her and the old professor, but she also felt nervous. Anna wasn't the type of person who made new friends very easily. She did have best friends-Alice, Mary, and Louise-but they've known each other since nursery school. And she knew that even they found her strange and awkward sometimes. After all, what 12-year-old girl would rather spend an afternoon reading books than playing cricket outside?
When they arrived at the train station, Christine parked the car and helped Anna with her suitcase and backpack.
"We'll walk you to the platform," she said, taking Heather's hand and guiding them inside. Just like the rest of the city, the station had a solemn, dreary atmosphere. It was crowded with parents and children, some older than Anna and others even younger than Heather. Anna could hear soft crying mixed with the sound of train whistles and conductors' yells.
"Have you got everything? All your papers?" Christine asked, shuffling through the papers clipped to Anna's coat. Anna read the label upside down: "Anna Pearce, Coombe Junction Halt Station, Dr. Digory Kirke."
"I think so," Anna said.
"All your clothes and shoes? Your books? Are you warm enough?"
"Yes, I'm fine," Anna said, not hiding the annoyance in her voice.
Christine gave her a sad, small smile. "Alright, darling. I wouldn't want you to forget anything, is all."
"Mummy?" Heather said, pulling on the bottom of Christine's coat. "Can we give it to her now?"
"Give me what?" Anna asked, scrunching her brows together. Christine sighed and shook her head.
"Well, since your sister had to ruin the surprise," Christine said, raising an eyebrow at Heather who was bouncing up and down with excitement, "Here. We wanted you to have this."
From her purse, she pulled out a green leatherbound book and handed it to Anna. The front said "Fairy Tales and Legends" in ornate golden lettering. Anna's eyes widened as she ran her fingers over the spine and cover.
"Isn't this my father's?" she asked in a small voice.
"Yes," Christine replied, smiling. "I know it's your favorite."
"But...I thought we weren't supposed to go in his office."
Christine winked. "We're not. But your father doesn't need to know."
Anna's eyes widened again and she grinned wickedly at Christine. She had no idea her stepmother had a mischievous, disobedient side to her. She always seemed so posh and proper. But this book was proof that even she could be naughty.
Christine's smile melted back into sadness. "I will miss you, Anna."
She pulled Anna into her arms and hugged her. Anna, now confused about her feelings towards her stepmother, lightly hugged her back. When they broke apart, Christine's eyes were misty.
Anna looked at Heather, who was trying to keep a brave face. She was scheduled to leave the following day, heading to her aunt's house in the opposite side of England. She came forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Anna's middle. Anna hugged her back and felt a lump form in her throat. She didn't know why she suddenly was choked up; Heather was bratty and almost always annoyed Anna.
Anna gave Heather a stoic look when they broke apart, concealing how nervous she truly was. Christine took Heather's hand and squeezed it.
"Alright, off you go now," she said to Anna. "Remember, Mrs. Macready will be picking you up at the station. Be good for her and the professor, alright?"
"Alright," Anna managed to squeak out. "Goodbye." She turned away and joined the flood of children heading for the trains.
Once on, she found a compartment with the least amount of people. The only children inside were young two boys who appeared to be brothers, and a girl with brown hair who looked to be 13. Anna put her suitcase above her and sat down next to the window, still clutching her father's book.
The train pulled away from the station with a loud screech. Anna could hear children and parents yelling a final goodbye to each other. She didn't know if Christine and Heather had stayed or not, and she didn't look out the window to check.
The children stayed silent for awhile. Anna flipped through the book for awhile, looking at the illustrations and reading a few words here and there, but after awhile it started to make her sick. The knot in her stomach only tightened as the journey went on.
Finally, the oldest boy spoke up. "Where are you all headed?"
"I'm going to Exeter, near the coast," the brown-hair girl replied.
"Coombe Halt station, in Cornwall," Anna said. "What about you?"
"We're headed to Taunton, to stay with our uncle," the boy said. "Are you staying with family?"
The brown-haired girl shook her head. Anna said, "No, just a man my father worked with."
The older boy nodded and put an arm around his little brother, who couldn't have been older than five. "I'm sorry. That must be sad having to live with strangers."
Neither Anna nor the brown-haired girl replied. Anna leaned her forehead against the cool window and stared out, watching the greenery of the country go by. She wondered where all the other kids on the train were headed. Somewhere on board were the other four kids she was staying with. Were they nervous, as she was? Were they sad to be leaving home? Or were they excited for the chance at having an adventure?
The older boy spoke up again. "Your dads out fighting, too?"
Anna nodded, but the brown-haired girl shook her head no.
"My father came home last month," she said. "He was injured, so they discharged him."
Lucky, Anna thought. She would give anything for her father to come back from wherever he was right now, fighting in a war that Anna's didn't fully understand.
When Anna was little, she and her father used to play princess and dragon together. Her father would pretend to be a vicious dragon, terrorizing the kingdom and trying to capture Anna, the princess. She would always laugh at his exaggerated rawrs and the way he would flap his arms like wings.
One day, when the dragon had trapped the princess in the tower, Anna had called out, "Oh please, won't a brave knight come and save me from this beast!"
"No, no, no," her father had said, momentarily snapping out of character. "The princess doesn't always have to be saved by the knight."
"That's how all the stories go!" little Anna had pointed out.
"Not all the stories," her father corrected. "In some stories, the princess is a princess and a knight, and she can slay the dragon all by herself."
Anna nodded and smiled. "I like that story better."
From then on, the princess wasn't just a princess, but also a brave knight who always defeated the dragon.
Right now, Anna tried to be the brave princess-knight, but she found that as she got older, it became harder and harder to slay dragons.
A few hours into the trip, the other children arrived at their stops. They didn't say goodbye when they left, but Anna felt like she was leaving a friend all the same.
It was hours later when they finally pulled up to Anna's stop. After letting out a small breath and gathering her things, she exited the train, wondering what life was going to be like at Professor Digory Kirke's house.
Just going to casually update this story like it hasn't been seven years...
