"You need a new wardrobe." She let the statement slip out of her mouth before she has time to think about it too much, watching as the woman standing across the kitchen and doing the dishes suddenly tensed, and waited for a reply.
She didn't care if it made the other woman uncomfortable. In 's opinion, it was a long overdue conversation that they needed to have.
Jacob had taken the children out for clothes in groups on Thursday and Friday the week after they arrived, but though it had been three weeks since, their headmistress continued to dress in the same threadbare black victorian-era dresses that she had arrived in.
The children, Jacob included, was obviously too well trained by Miss Peregrine to dare suggest she needed new clothes, true as it might be, and her husband never took notice of such things, meaning that in the end it came down to herself.
It would be her self-assigned though necessary mission to get the elderly woman some new clothes.
She had decided to break the news while said woman was doing the dishes (though they had a more than well functioning dishwasher), as it seemed to be when she was the most comfortable. She wasn't sure how she expected the woman to take the verdict, but her agreeing was probably not among the suggestion.
And as expected, she didn't agree.
"No." Miss Peregrine said firmly. "I do not need clothes."
didn't miss the way one of her hands came down to fondly stroke the black skirt, running her hand across the fabric and leaving an almost invisible wet stain behind. She clearly loved the clothing, and had had it for a long time, something that could sympathise with. Unfortunately, it's age had clearly come to catch up with it as it was torn and threadbare, and it didn't mix in with the clothing worn by other people in Florida in the 21st century, and as such, had to go.
"Yes, you do need new clothes. All your children have already gotten new clothes. You can't keep walking around looking like the grieving widow of a poor man in the 19th Century." Once again, she could see the woman tensing at her harsh words, and she had to bite her lip not to take it back.
She wasn't going to back down on this.
"Fine." Miss Peregrine sigh, turning around to face . "I'll go shopping with you as soon as it is convenient for you." The elder woman tried to smile, but it turned out half-hearted and wobbly.
"Tomorrow." said decidedly. "It's Friday and I got the day off. You can borrow some of my clothes for when go out."
The wobbly smile Miss Peregrine had had immediately sank into a deep frown upon hearing that she had to borrow clothes for they went out to shop, but she nodded, obviously having made peace with her inevitable fate.
This idea of letting Miss Peregrine bother some of her clothes that had had, quickly turned out to something much more complicated than she'd wanted it to.
Figuring that Alma sure would appreciate something a little more comfortable than her dark, heavy dresses, she'd pulled out a white t-shirt and a pair of green sweatpants. Not so informal it'd be weird to wear in public, but a little more comfortable than the kind of things she wore for work.
She'd been sure they'd be great, but Miss Peregrine was obviously of an entirely different opinion.
To begin with, she stared at the pants as though they were the devil itself.
"I will not wear pants." She said firmly, crossing her arms over her chest, before continuing. "And the top is short-sleeved and show too much cleavage for a decent woman." Her facial expression was caught somewhere between disgust and 'are you stupid?', and sigh, grabbing the sweat pants and putting them back in the closet, but left the top on the bed.
"Right." She said, silently wondering if she even had something in her closet that an uptight, modest 19th century woman would accept.
After some digging around,she managed to pull out a long flower-printed skirt and a pink cardigan, none of which she'd worn in years, and offered them to Miss Peregrine, who seemed a little more pleased with this suggestion, though there was still a bit of hesitation in her eyes.
Regardless, miss Peregrine eventually grabbed the clothes and went to get dressed, preparing to go shopping.
Alma looked in the mirror, at herself, and almost screamed. White t-shirt, flower print skirt that thankfully was of a respectable length, and a pink cardigan.
The colours of the outfit was brighter than anything she'd worn, or even owned, in years, her hair which was normally put in a tight pun had been braided and flung over her shoulder resting there like a dead weight.
"Miss Peregrine, how's it going in there?" 's voice echoed from the other side of the door, and with a heavy sigh, Alma realised that she actually had to try something on. It was, after all, what she was there to do. Get new clothes.
Alma hadn't been cloth shopping in eighty years, and the big store had scarred her at first, but once she'd gotten used to it they'd gotten started right away. The only problem was, that hadn't listened to Alma at all when she picked the clothes.
Turning around, Alma quickly surveyed her choices. After the incident when they picked her current outfit, she seemed to have picked up on the fact that Alma wanted more modest clothes, and everything hanging there was long-sleeved with covered cleavage. There was also no pants, which Alma was thankful for. She could never see herself in pants.
Hesitantly, she picked down a bright pink turtleneck and a mild green skirt. She liked the design of the turtle neck, offering total coverage, but the colour was way too bright for her liking. The green skirt was nice, the colour more earthy and less obtrusive, but it would only go a little bit beneath her knee.
She bit her lip, certain she didn't want either piece of clothing, and put them back, locking through the rest to see what else had been picked for her, hoping find something else that looked better and was, preferably, less colorful.
Mrs. Portman was starting to feel worried. She was sure it had been closer to 30 minutes since Miss Peregrine had went into the dressing room. She had knocked fifteen minutes later but it didn't seem to have made any effect as there had been another fifteen minutes and Miss Peregrine hadn't come out to show everything.
"Miss Peregrine? You alright in there?" Half of her feared that something would have happened to the elder woman, and half of her wondered if she'd really found the clothes she suggested so hideous.
Either way, the door opened and Miss Peregrine came walking out and she gave the clothes back to her, a decidedly dark look on her face. She had also changed her hair, dissolving the braid and putting it back up in a temporary bun, no doubt meaning to put it up properly when they got back home.
"They didn't fit me." Alma smiled, but Mary could tell that it was a lie, that the problem was something entirely else, that she didn't want to tell the other woman.
"You can tell me what the issue is you know." She said as she put away the clothes. "I won't judge."
"People always judge." Alma said, and for the first time, Mary heard something akin to hate in the other woman's voice. She sounded so spiteful, so very angry, and she was at loss for what to reply.
One, two, three moments of silence passed between them, and then the other woman sigh deeply. Slowly, Mary turned to face her, only to see silent tears running down the other's cheeks.
Gone was the anger, the spitefulness , the terrifying aura of respect that got her children following her every command. All that was left was a broken, weeping woman.
"I'm sorry I'm not...I'm not angry with you ." She said at last, a wet and trembling smile on her face as the tears continued to fall. "I am simply under a lot of stress."
'A lot of stress', was certain, was an understatement. She'd seen the stacks of thick white envelope signed by a Miss random bird name that was to be found in their mail box every day. Some of them had a return addresses in America, but the large bulk came from Britain. She couldn't imagine why Miss Peregrine in particular was so sought after by her 'sisters', as she called them, but fact was that she was and dealing whatever was entailed in these daily letters was sure to knock the wind out of anyone, especially if they were still trying to recover from some quite traumatizing circumstances like she was.
"I know. I've seen the envelops. Maybe shopping was a little too much for you to deal with at the moment." She wrap her arms around the woman, starting to lead her away. "You can borrow my clothes for now, and we can return another day. Come, I'll take you to a cafe."
Seeing as Alma was half sobbing, half trying to frustratedly wipe away the tears from her face and in no state to even manage a simple yes or no reply, she simply grabbed her by the arm and carefully started leading her out of the store, dragging her along to her favourite cafe just across the road from the store. She had planned to take her there afterwards anyway, but now it suddenly felt all the more important as she decidedly placed Miss Peregrine on a chair and went to order two big cups of tea for the both of them.
The barista instantly recognised her and smiled excitedly as she approached the desk.
"Mary! So nice to see you here again. Who's the woman over there?" She glanced curiously at Miss Peregrine, who was still trying to get her tears under control. It seemed as though the shopping trip had been the last drop for her. "And what will you have?"
"Hey Louisa. We'll have two big cups of tea, please." She smiled happily, giving the barista a quick hug. "And the woman is uh…" She wasn't sure what to say, trying to construct a likely story in her head. "An acquaintance of Frank, sort of. Her mother was long time friends with his dad, they stayed in the same children's home during the second world war."
It was an acceptable story, she decided. The ages matched more or less and it was as close to the truth she could get without seeming nuts.
"Coming right up, it'll be ten dollars. She look like she could need it."
Mary payed and waited, and when the hot beverage was prepared she grabbed the cups and marched back to the table, where Miss Peregrine finally seemed to have calmed down somewhat.
"Here you go." She said, sliding the cup over to the other woman. "Now tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing, really." Alma was absolutely certain that after her last breakdown, that trick would not be bought, but she tried. At Maryann's disapproving glare, she simply sigh. It was worth a shot. "Okay, a lot actually."
"Knew it. Continue. What does all those Miss whatever weird bird name they use want with you, anyway?" She looked curious, waving her hands dismissively as she talked about their names.
Alma frowned, and almost wanted to cry again. Miss Jabberjay and Mockingjays letters from this morning still lay unanswered at her desk at home, and she knew Miss Swan and Miss Bluejay had promised to be in touch soon. She'd abandoned them in favour of this disastrous shopping trip, and now she regretted it as the guilt and stress clawed at her guts.
"My children has never needed me less and my sisters has never needed me more." She said, feeling guilt clawing at her gut all the more intense. She had left her sisters, left Great Britain, when they needed her more than anything. But she knew how far they'd go for their children, so she knew they didn't blame her.
Not that it eased her guilt, or their needs. The letters proved it more than anything.
"So they are needy enough that they send you letters half-way across the world on daily basis?" highered an eyebrow, and Alma just nodded.
"After the hell we went through we need each other. But more importantly, they, my sisters that is, want me back to Great Britain." She explained, and this time she had to bite her lip hard not to cry. She'd received letter upon letter from Ymbrynes that she was close with and Ymbrynes she'd barely spoken to since her days at the academy, begging her to come back. It wasn't only that they missed her though. "The American Ymbrynes just want invite me to a conference, though!"
At this, both Maryanne and Alma laughed. The thought of an Ymbryne conference, with Alma as some kind of guest speaker, was ridiculous to the both of them, and yet, as Alma was all too aware of, it was a reality. And that for a reason.
"But seriously though, why do they want you back in England? Does your family really miss you that much? I can understand if they do but…" She stopped, noticing the way the other woman flinched at the word 'family', as if the mere mention of it made her uncomfortable. "Sorry, I was just curious."
"It's alright, my sisters are my family, if not in the blood. And the reason they want me back in England is a little more complicated than just missing me i'm afraid. There is a rumour that Miss Wren, who lead the Ymbryne council of Great Britain since sometime in the seventeen hundreds, is going to retire." She paused, seeing if Jacob's mother was catching up with what she was implying, but the woman's look was confused and otherwise blank. She wondered if the problem was the concept of an Ymbryne council, or having an elected leader that had reigned for three hundred years "I, like everyone else, has the right to help find a replacement, though it will require me to return to Great Britain. More importantly, though, in order to be eligible for the title, you have to live in Great Britain."
"So they want to give you a title? Make you their next leader?" Mary felt impressed. She had a hard time understanding how the peculiar world worked, but it sounded quite important.
Alma nodded.
"Great Britain is the center of the peculiar world, the most peculiar place on Earth. The woman who holds the position as head of the British Ymbryne Council is the closest thing a to an internationally acknowledged leader of the entire peculiar population on Earth there is." Alma smiled, obviously a bit dreamy about the thought.
"And they want to give said position to you?!" Mary exclaimed, for the first time feeling truly impressed. An internationally recognised leader, was the position she was asked for.
"Some do, anyway. But technically there are several Ymbrynes who have a stronger claim of the position. Miss Avocet would immediately be given it, was she interested, but she declined for fifty years, so I doubt she'll say yes now. Same with
Miss Bunting. Miss Glassbillow also got a right to claim that I lack, but I doubt she'd be interested in such a binding responsibility."
"But that would require you to move back to Great Britain. " Mary reminded, feeling like a killjoy but seeing it as an important part of the deal. "Anyway, I can understand it got you stressed."
Miss Peregrine sigh, shoulder slumping. Yes, it had her stressed beyond belief, thinking about it and planning and fearing her sister's anger for her uncertainty and that she would probably end up declining. And on top of it the American council was seeking her out and mailing her as well, though not nearly as much.
When she had seen the pink cardigan, the flower skirt, the piles with too short or too bright clothes that so clearly wasn't her in any aspect, she had snapped. It wasn't just the stress, but having a woman who was so obviously not the version of herself that she knew looking back at her in the mirror, she felt so lost, like she'd never find her way back to the confidence she used to have.
To the confidence she pretended to have.
It wasn't just stress that was bothering her.
"I feel lost" She said at last, lowering her head into her hands. "I don't know how I can make everything good again."
Mary could see the thoughts going round and round in the other woman's head as she lowered it into her hands, biting her lip and looking so close to crying again. What the other woman had told her was putting things in perspective, to say at least.
She had gone through hell and back again, she had traveled across the world and walked a long way, just to get to to be with her charge, with Jacob. She had dragged her cluster of children with her, hoping that she could find new happiness for them after they lost everything.
Her entire world was crashing, had been crashing, and she was forced to shape a new world out of nothing. On top of this, she had everyone, not just her children but her sisters in Great Britain and America, as well, looking to her for guidance and advice and help.
There was no time for her to gather herself, to put herself back together. She had, obviously, lost so much too, and it was no wonder she felt so lost, but no one gave her the chance to piece herself back together and feel okay.
"It's okay. You'll come back." She doesn't know much about comfort, but she steps around the table and hug the other woman tight. They're both mothers, after all, and she knew how it felt to keep up an appearance for everyone else. "No one said you have to make everything good again."
She had noticed that the other woman's tendency to take everything on herself, making even the smallest chore or problem her own priority instead of giving it to her children or letting it solve itself. It's was an old routine, it came natural to her, obviously, but it was much harder to do so when you were not reliving the exact same day over and again, when you didn't already knew what was awaiting when you woke up.
She was tearing herself apart trying to keep up when there was a thousand things she didn't need to do.
This only seemed to anger Miss Peregrine, though, because suddenly she was pushing her away and asking her to sit back at her side of the table.
"You don't understand." She said, frowning. "I have to fix everything. I have to provide for my children and grant them safety. Even if they no longer need me as much as they used to, i have to look after them. It everything I am, everything I have." She sank deeper into the chair and seemed all but given up. "I have nothing else. Never had, never will. You can't understand."
Maryanne knew she was right. She knew she couldn't understand what it felt like to live for eighty years in near complete isolation with a house full of children as only company. She couldn't even imagine such a situation.
She didn't know how it felt to lose some of these children, to be tortured by your own siblings and in the end even going as far as to killing them after they turned I to world-destroying demons beyond saving.
She didn't know anything of the horrors this woman had experienced, some of them still fresh and some long since gone but still vivid in her mind. She had never experienced even a fraction of the pain this woman had, but either way she wanted to try and help best she possibly could.
"What about the Ymbryne council? That is something beside the children that you could do." She suggested, desperate to find some way to reach to Alma. She needed a life beyond the children, something that might give her a feeling of familiarity.
"I can't candidate for a position. I can't move back to Great Britain." Alam dismissed the idea, already knowing it to be impossible.
"A vacation, then? If they're going to be an election you can return for the duration, help nominate deserving Ymbrynes and place your vote. Spend some time with her sisters." Of course she knew the other woman wouldn't candidate, not if it meant leaving her children behind, but she couldn't continue as she was doing now. "You need a break, and you sisters miss you. Tale the opportunity. Your children won't die from being left with us for a few weeks."
"Fine." Miss Peregrine breathed, and Maryanne expected some kind of exhausted and annoyed expression when she looked up at her face, but instead, the way something entirely else.
For the first time in weeks, Mary saw Alma spotting a real, genuine smile. It would not be easy for her to recover, to bounce back after all that she had experienced, but they were getting there.