This is a longer one. Wendy meets new faces, and some stand out. One in particular…

Chapter Two:

"Breathe in I tell you. Come now, you're not even trying." Mrs Burton wails unrelentingly.

This damn woman. What would she know of breathing in? Her stomach is three times the size of mine.

"Surely breathing in defeats the purpose of fitting clothing to a person. It means it won't really fit them." Wendy mutters to herself. Mrs Burton hears anyway.

"Nonsense. It keeps everything in." She states happily.

"Are you quite sure of that?" Wendy asks, her eyes on the other woman's stomach. Mrs Burton's mouth falls open.

"Well I never-"

"Thank you, Mrs Burton. That is quite enough. You've been just wonderful. Do you have all the measurements you need to start the garment?" Her mother cuts in expertly.

"Well… I suppose I do." The other woman stutters out.

"Excellent. You've been just wonderful. Shall I show you the way out? Best to get started immediately." She ushers Mrs Burton out of the room, leaving Wendy to her thoughts.

This is just ridiculous. This whole thing was just ridiculous. I don't know if I can bear any more.

Wendy steps down from the small stool she had been stood on and stumbles slightly, tripping over some of the leftover pins on the floor. She hears a deep chuckle at her clumsiness and she turns to look for whichever brother saw her stumble. But neither were there. And neither had such a deep voice. She spins to face the window and a shadow just disappears from view. This gives Wendy pause. She is on the second floor of her house. No could be outside. Not at this height. She tries to rush to see what was there, but once again falls victim to the pins on the floor. One, where the needle was facing upright, finds its way into her big toe and she cries out. Her first instinct is to clutch at it and hop and howl in pain, but she knows that this would only event in her standing on more. So she settles for profanities instead.

"God damn it! Son of a-"

"Watch your language, Wendy!"

Wendy looks guiltily to her mother who has just reappeared in the doorway with her usual stern expression. This switches to alarm as Michael brushes past her knees to enter the sitting room.

"No! Michael don't-" Wendy tries to warn him. But from the distressed look on his freckled face, it is clear he already has at least one pin in his little feet. Ignoring her own pain, she rushes forward and picks him up.

"And he gets snared in the hideous huntsman's trap! But he is far too brave to cry… because he knows that his bestest friend needs him to be strong. For it is Nana that has been captured by the horrible huntsman."

Michael sniffles a little and looks around for said Dog. Nana was there family pet and Michael has a special soft spot for her as she normally stays with him even when the rest of the family is busy. Wendy is shocked that the dog is not with him now but sure enough, Nana trots in past Mrs Darling, tongue hanging out, and pants up at Michael. He swallows the tears and smiles down at her, reaching his hands out to pet her from his position in Wendy's arms. She gently places him on the floor and, quickly, pops the pin out of his foot. He is suitably distracted however and does not notice as he wraps his arms around Nana's wide frame.

"But alas, the brave boy prevails and rescues his noble friend." Wendy smiles a little and pats Nana's head herself and picks the pin out of her own foot.

Mrs Darling observes this interaction with a small frown on her face before calling their maid to clean the pins from the floor. Wendy questions the need for the maid; they were struggling enough due to the war and she knew how the only reason they could still afford this lifestyle was due to her father's high position in the bank. He was under particular stress at the moment as it had been at least two days since she had even seen him. He returns from work late in the night, only to return in the early hours of the morning. The maid was a luxury that they could do without, but her mother would never hear of it. In her mind, it was one of the few things that separated the upper class from the common.

It wasn't that Wendy didn't appreciate the life she had been given, it was more that she didn't feel she needed it. As long as she had her family and her family and her stories. She looks around the sitting room that is so familiar to her. It might seem grand to some with the large fire place, stylish furniture and raised ceiling. But Wendy can see the flaws, the nicks in wood, the scratches on the floor that her mother has desperately tried to cover up. She meets her mother's eyes, notes the lines that circle them. Lines that were never there before. Wendy takes in a small breath as she suddenly understands why her mother suddenly felt the need to announce Wendy as eligible. They need money. And they need it soon. They want her to marry into a good family. One that could help them.

Wendy takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. This she can do. If this is all she can do help her family. She would.

Over the next few days, Wendy tries to throw herself into the party preparations with more enthusiasm. She listens to her mother drone on about the different flower arrangements they could use, the appetisers they would serve to guests, the appropriate topics of conversation she should engage in. She listened to all of this without complaint. Well… much. She could not change overnight. She had not even had any of her usual lessons due to all of the commotion of the party. This was a welcome change.

The dressmaker returns the day before the party with the finished dress. It was a light blue, soft material that felt strange to touch. It flattered her small stomach and flared slightly at the waist and flowed out to her shins, as was the fashion. A white bow was being fastened around her waist and Wendy struggles not to fidget.

"Oh Wendy… You look just… beautiful. Like a true lady." Her mother says as he showcases a rare smile. Wendy, unsure of how to take the compliment simply looks down at her feet. She wiggles her toes and her mother takes a step towards her. She takes her chin in her hand and breathes "look at yourself, my dear."

Wendy looks down at her feet again before looking to the mirror that had been placed against the wall. She didn't understand the fascination. It was just a dress. She still looks like herself. Just more feminine. More like her mother.

No. No. I can't go in there. I won't.

Wendy peers around the door once again before quickly snapping back to hide in the safety of the hallway. It is the day of the party and there were just so many people. People that Wendy doesn't know. She sneaks another glance through the crack in the door and smiles slightly. At least Michael and John look as uncomfortable as I am. She then feels guilty for that thought. She shouldn't take joy in their misery. But she can't help but feel slightly nullified that she wasn't alone in this.

"Umm… Excuse me, can I enter that room please?"

Wendy jumps; alarmed that she wasn't alone as she had originally thought. Without even looking at the owner of the voice she says

"Yes. Of course… Go on in. Be my guest. Feel free-"

"Thank you." He laughs, interrupting her listing the varying ways to say that someone can enter a room. She looks up at him then, slightly put back by his laughter. A boy about her own age stage before her. His dark brown curls slightly cover his equally dark eyes that twinkle with humour. His eyes leave hers for the slightest appraisal of her and Wendy can't help but blush. This was very unlike her. But this was the first time being so close to a boy her own age. Being so close and… alone.

"Well, I best head in myself. It was nice to meet you Mr…"

"Graham. Isaac Graham. I assure you, it's my pleasure." He sweeps her hand into an endearing, albeit practiced move and kisses her hand softly. Unsure of what she was supposed to do, Wendy simply nods, spins, and enters the drawing room.

The room quietens at her entrance, but she doesn't allow this to affect her. She moves immediately to her brothers who are sat together on the sofa towards the side of the room. They both smile when they see her, clearly relieved at no longer being alone.

"I see you two are fitting in well." She teases.

"Considering this is the first time we've seen you, I do not think you are faring much better." John retorts with a smirk. Wendy moves to sit but, catching her mother's eye from across the room and seeing the quick shake of her head, she awkwardly stands straight again.

Mrs Darling glides across the room to her children and holds out her hand for Wendy to take. She does so, reluctantly. This was the part she was dreading the most.

"Ladies and Gentlemen." The room quietens once again as everyone turns to face Mrs Darling. "Thank you ever so much for joining us on this fine day to celebrate my eldest son's birthday." She smiles down at John who sinks back into his seat. "But I would also like to thank those of you who came to meet my fine daughter. As you can see, she is truly a sight to behold-"

"She's alike her mother in that respect." Says a voice that Wendy did not expect to hear. She goes to move towards her father but is held in place by the vice like grip her mother holds on her. Her father's tired eyes miss nothing. Mr Darling smiles at his only daughter and moves toward her himself and wraps a comforting arm around her shoulder.

"Hello Wendy-bird." He whispers as he presses a kiss to her head.

"Hello father!" She whispers back, elated.

Mrs Darling smiles at seeing her husband but is unperturbed in her mission.

"Thank you dear. As I was saying, this is Wendy's first entrance into proper society." She waits for the polite clapping that has begun to end before saying "Thank you. Please don't let me interrupt you anymore. Enjoy the party!"

Wendy begins to think her part is done before her mother sweeps her off to meet all of the party guests. Wendy doesn't even attempt to remember the names of everyone she meets, so she simply gives them nicknames: frumpy moustache, grump beard, pinched lips, smelly breath boy, pencil eyebrows, dirty tash, and oily boy. Currently she was listening to pinched lips try to sell her son to her.

"He received top marks on his latest essay in school. You should listen to how his teachers dote on him." She barks out a loud fake laugh that snaps Wendy out of her day dream. "He is well known among his friends as being greatly amusing. Go on son, tell her one of your famed jokes." She looks down at her son who stood a head smaller than even Wendy who was slight herself.

Oily boy's eyebrows shoot up in alarm. When he says nothing, his mother nudges him slightly. "Go on William."

"Umm… I-"

"Wendy dear!" Her mother calls; interrupting whatever the poor boy was about to say. Wendy smiles at the boy in sympathy before going to see what her mother wants. She stands next to a tall boy. A tall boy with dark hair and midnight eyes.

"You!" She blurts before her mother can introduce them.

"You've met?" She asks with an eyebrow raised. It would be considered improper for Wendy to have met a boy without someone around.

"Umm…"

"Very briefly. I had the pleasure of meeting your daughter in the hall. I'm afraid I was a little late to your party." Isaac admits smoothly. Wendy smirks, expecting her mother to disapprove of his tardiness. Instead she smiles.

"Not at all! Wendy was also a little late so not to worry. I assume you have already introduced yourselves then?"

When he does not speak, Wendy weakly replies "Yes, mother. We-"

"Excellent. So you know he is the son of Mr Edward Graham?" Mrs Darling gave Wendy a meaningful look. Huh? Am I supposed to know who that… Oh.

"From the bank?" Wendy asks; already knowing the answer. This was why her mother was being so overtly friendly to an almost stranger. This boy is the son of father's boss at the bank.

"That would be him." Isaac mutters distantly. His eyes have begun to drift over the party guests. Mrs Darling desperately tries to regain his attention.

"You are quite right Wendy. He is handsome." She says conspiratorially. Wendy's eyes snap to her mother's; outraged. When had she said such a thing? Even hinted at it? They then snap to Isaac's, who seems equally surprised at this admission.

"I… What?" Wendy stutters. Her mother gives an unconvincing fake laugh.

"There is no need to be shy, my dear. Honesty is the most valued trait in a partner." She bites out the last part of the sentence with an exaggerated smile. Oh. Oh no. She wants me to… with him? Wendy looks him over Isaac once again. He wasn't bad, she supposed. Handsome, but perhaps a little arrogant.

He begins to smirk at her appraisal of him and puffs his chest out marginally; not minding being studied. Yes… Definitely arrogant.

"You're right, mother. Which is why I must admit to never saying such a thing about this gentleman." Wendy says with a small smile. Hah. Mrs Darling intakes sharply and begins to splutter, but this was her fault. She shouldn't lie on her behalf so boldly. She then remembers her promise to herself to give this all a chance and sighs. "But I suppose you could be considered… handsome. By some." She admits.

Isaac's smile, which had begun to slip, slides right back into his typical crooked smile.

"You're too kind, Miss Wendy. I must return the compliment and say that, to some, you might be considered beautiful… radiant even."

Wendy gapes at him whilst her mother practically faints. How can he say such things with a straight face? It must all be a mask, she decides. No one could say something like that seriously. Wendy had never heard of such a speech except for in one of John's books. The romantic ones he says he is not interested in.

"Isaac? We must take our leave, my son." A deep voice that must belong to his father calls.

"It was delightful to meet you both." Isaac says smiling at her mother first before his dark eyes move to hers. "Truly". He smiles at her, his first seemingly genuine one of the evening. Not wanting him to have the last word, Wendy blurts;

"And you Isaac. I mean, Mr Isaac." His smiles changes back to a smirk at her stumble and he nods before turning to leave with his father.

"Well that was… better than we ever could have hoped. Oh Wendy, he's just perfect!"

Wendy did not exactly share her sentiments and so elects to stay silent. The other guests seem to take their ques from the Graham's and so begin to depart as well and Wendy can't help but feel relieved.

The rest of the day passes mostly with just helping to clean up. By the time night falls, Wendy, John, and Michael are in their usual spot. The nursery. John and Michael are sat together on the floor whilst Wendy begins another one of her stories. This one followed an ambitious boy who had grown a whole giant beanstalk on his farm.

"Fee-fi-fo-fum,

I smell the blood of an Englishman,

Be he alive, or be he dead

I'll have his bones to grind my bread."

"Ewww. Wendy…" Michael complains, interrupting her.

"But Jack's mother begged him to never climb up again. But Jack said just one more time and that will be the end. He crept up to the giant who was playing a magic harp and quickly snatched the axe without a sound. He quickly scurries back to his mum who was very worried." Wendy struggled to remember the poem she has read in one of her old fairy tale books.

"One blow with the axe down under

The giant fell with a crash like thunder

Jack said look mum…" There was a creak near the door and she spotted her mother standing against it, just as she had last night.

"The giant's gone. The end." She finished quickly.

"Huh? That's it?" John exclaims, not having spotted their mother.

"Yes! Now off to bed with you both." Her brother's both gave her perplexed expressions.

"She's right boys. To bed with both of you!" Mrs Darling claps and they both shoot to their feet and grumble simultaneously:

"Yes mother."

Wendy smiles at them and shoots out of the room before her mother can try and corner her to talk about Isaac some more. It was the only thing she seemed capable of mentioning at all today. She closes the door behind her once she reaches her bedroom, sighing. Her gaze travels her bedroom and she smiles. Her haven. With all her pretty white furniture and the soft blue bed.

She moves towards it and climbs over it to reach the window. It was a rather humid day today so she plans to sleep with it open tonight.

She settles snuggly into her bed and rests her eyes. Her mind begins to wonder to how she really would have ended Jack and the beanstalk. There needed to be more battles. More fighting. Perhaps he dies? John always liked the unexpected endings…

A movement above her pulls her from her light sleep and she looks up into two green eyes looking down at her.

Yup. You guessed it. She meets Peter in the next chapter. Feel free to leave a review of this chapter as obviously quite a lot happens.