"I told you they wouldn't grow." Peter gloated as he leant on the wooden fence, looking down at the bare ground of Regina's garden.
She removed the hat from her head as she finished watering the neat rows of soil, glad that it was growing cooler. "It takes time. I only planted them yesterday. At least I think it was yesterday. When did we finish the fence?"
Peter shrugged. "Time doesn't matter. It's only important to have fun."
"Well, watching the plants grow will be fun, especially when time passes so quickly here."
"Are you coming hunting with us today?"
"I thought I'd stay and finish writing the book. The boys said they want me to tell them the stories and this way they might learn to read."
"It's no use teaching them anything. They'll only forget."
That was why Regina was writing her book. She wanted to remember her father, Daniel and Henry. Even if she only thought they were made-up stories in a couple of years, she wanted the truth to be written down somewhere. It was only fair. Henry had his book.
"What about you Peter? Do you think you could learn and remember how to read?"
"If I wanted to. But reading is for grown-ups."
"Reading is for everyone Peter. Some little children even learn to read with your story, amongst others."
"I stole a copy of the book once. Just to see what they said about me. There were lots of pictures, but I couldn't read the words."
"Do you still have it?"
Peter shrugged. "Maybe."
"If you want I could read it to you."
"I don't mind."
But he looked excited at the idea of hearing stories about himself and Regina smiled, wondering if Peter would be pleased with his portrayal.
"Tonight then, after dinner. If you can find the book."
"If I can't I'll go to the mainland and borrow another copy."
"What is it like in London at this time of year?"
"Busy. Even at night-time. It's a lot more dangerous than it used to be. Of course, the grown-ups still don't notice the things they've stopped believing in, but the children stay up later now so I have to be careful."
"Do you only travel to London?"
"No, not always."
"Do you think I could go with you one day?"
"If I took you the Lost Boys would want to come as well. They get confused on the mainland."
"Because they start to remember who they are and want to grow up?"
"No! They never want to grow up! They're Lost Boys! … They just… forget about the magic and find it hard to fly."
Regina stood on tip-toe as she reached up to hang the watering can on the little hook near the front door. Then she tossed her hat through an open window and into the cottage.
"Let's go hunting then. We can take the cups and plates with us and have a picnic near the waterfall. It will save carrying it all back here. What do you think?"
"What about your writing?"
"The stories will still be there tomorrow."
Peter grinned. "Am I going to be in the book?"
"Of course, but not until later."
"Remember to write how much braver I am than the other Lost Boys, and how much cleverer."
"I will."
"And how good I am. You will write down that I am good now, won't you?"
"Yes Peter."
As they walked off to gather up the other Lost Boys, Peter continued to advise Regina on writing her book.