Chapter One – Living in the house of Aunt Jade
Aunt Jade was always such a strange and mysterious person, she had so many secrets, and I intended to discover all of them. She was my mother's sister, but she was nothing like my mother, her personality was hidden and her appearances dull. But she was all that I had. Her eyes were almost black from all the time she spent inside a dark tavern caring to the drunken wretches that came in every night. She was thin and boney and had rounded shoulders from all the time that she spent bending down to reach drinks underneath the bench. She had black hair that was thinning and would never be a shinny as some of the women in the part of London at which we lived. Aunt Jade never wore elaborate dresses, just straight black or navy blue, often with bows at the back or matching ribbons in her hair. She chose simple clothing as stains would not be easily seen and she blended in with her surroundings which suited her fine. Her sentences were structured like riddles or spells and she never gave you a straight answer, which often frustrated me but after thinking about what she had said, one would figure out the meaning of her madness. She never held parties like my parents did, she never found the need to; she had a party every night at her tavern. She was always content with herself and her simple lifestyle. She did indeed love her boys very much and within the budget given she tried to give them comfortable lives. However there was one thing that she couldn't give them was their father back, and she had no intentions of replacing him. Her tavern was open every night and seeing that I was part of the family there was no need for a nurse to look after the boys at night. My Aunt also believed that looking after them would help me mature; it only made me younger though. I will always remember standing at the top of the stair case and look down on her as she unlocked the old oak door at the front of the house before she stepped out into the cold night air, she would look around the hallway and for a split second her eyes would flash and become vibrant, her skin would shine and she seemed to look twenty year younger. In this split second that she seemed to become a younger more alive Aunt Jade, I saw my mother, and instead of seeing a mother of the three and the owner of a tavern I saw the sister of my dear mother. However as quickly as it started it was over and she was gone. I will always remember looking down at her from that spot in our house.
Unlike many people in the area of London that we lived in we didn't have an elaborate house. It had four bedrooms, one bathroom, a family room, a dinner room and a kitchen. We had a small courtyard out the back which was never cared to. My aunt had given up on it after her husband died, that courtyard was his pride and joy, now no one dares go into it. As you walk into our house from the courtyard you pass through large stain-glass doors depicting a scene of the sun rising. When I first moved into the house I would sit on one of the kitchen stools and just look at the glass doors, I was never bothered even when my aunt and the cook were busy preparing a meal I felt as if it was only me in the room. In my old house with had doors just like the ones in the kitchen, I still cry when I look at them. The kitchen was always my favorite room of the house because it was always so busy. It was a large room with black and white tiles on the floor and white cupboards with little roses in the corner of the door. I would sit and chat along with the cook for hours about nothing in particular, asking strange questions that often that the cook had no answer for so a went to my aunt who was often in the dinner room, writing up tallies about the business, how much drinks were needed and such things like that. She would never look up and me when I asked my strange questions, she just said in a clear voice her riddled–answer. I was always amused by the response that I got. The dinner room was only big enough to hold the dinning table with the eight chairs that surround it and the side–board. There was also barley enough room to walk through the room into the main hallway that had the grand staircase. All the furnishings in the dinner room were polish wood with dark green ferns on the cushions or in pots and vases as decorations. There is a huge window on one side of the room that looks out onto the street. The window was never open and the dark green blind's were never drawn, but because my aunt's house was set back from the street you could not see into the room. There were no elaborate chandeliers in this room, only lights scattered around the side of the doorways, but this room was hardly used at night time when lights were needed. After getting the estranged answer from my aunt to my difficult question I would walk through the room to the doorway that was opposite the one that lead out of the kitchen and turn to walk up our stairs. They weren't a grand set of stairs but were in the middle of our house. If you stood at the top of the stairs you were directly above the front door. I would of look over the edge of the banister at the top of the stairway and wait for my mother to walk in the door, but she never came. You have two options after you reach the top of the stairs, to turn left and go off too the nursery and two other bedrooms or go right to the bathroom and my aunt's room. I would always go left as my room was that way. It was always a hassle for me to get to my room because I had to walk through the nursery because my room linked up to the nursery. I would walk to the end of the hall and there would be two doors one that was opened, the nursery, and the other was the guest room. The guest room door was always closed unless we had a member of the family staying with us. But I never felt the need to be a snoop and look into the room I just always walked by into the nursery.
Unlike any other room in the house, our nursery wasn't made up of a set colour pattern. It was a rainbow of colour's, ranging from pastels to bright yellows, or deep blue and greens to pink and red's, all the colour's that one would imagine. It was also the largest room in our house seeing as it was the bedroom of three little boys who had so many toys that you could not count them all without getting a headache. I spent most of my time in this room, well when I wasn't at school or chatting away with the cook. There was night – lights all around the room and a small simple light that hung from the ceiling. Lined up against the longest wall were three beds that belonged to the boys, Henry, Thomas and Jackson. They were simple four poster beds with no netting and on Jackson's (the smallest of the three) bed there were bars that moved up and down so he wouldn't fall out at night and hit his head on one of the many toys that inhabited the room. Across from the line of bed's there was a large window with a window-sill that was wide enough for me to sit on. The window was simple with no specific design on it. It opened outward and locked with a little gold hook which had a small design on it of flowers and vines. When I first arrived at my aunt's house I sat for a long time looking at the hook until I realized what the pattern was, I was so amazed at how someone could carve something so detailed into something so small. Next to the nursery, through a door at the other end of the room was my small little bedroom. I had one little chest of drawers and a small little four poster bed that was pushed up next to the wall opposite the door. Next to the head of the bed was my chest of drawers. I never owned much so all of my possessions fit comfortably into the dark polished wood piece of furniture. Opposite the chest of drawers was my window. It was small, but I could stand up in it if I chose to. It had a stain glass design of doves and other birds flying through the trees. It lifted upwards with a small lock at the top. The frame of the window was white. This matched my white wallpaper and the white rug on the floor. Like the window in the nursery, this one had a large window sill with plump cushion's which I would often sit on, gazing out the window waiting for someone to take me away to another world.
One very still night in June, a week before my thirteenth birthday, whilst at school I had witnessed an event that made me wonder, and eventually I came up with a strange question that I would ask the cook when I got home. The event was I saw a boy, older than me, from the near by boys school come to our school and give one of the older girls a bunch of flowers. Seeing as I was so young at that point in my life I never new what this action meant and I wanted to know why the girl seemed so embarrassed. I sat through my last lessons of the day thinking about what the boy had done and on the way home I saw many grown men purchasing bunches of flowers, most likely to be given to women that they fancied, but I was unaware of that at the time. When I arrived home my Aunt was out picking up the boys, no doubt, so I went straight to the kitchen there was cook busy doing her job when I walked in she looked up at me as an acknowledgment.
"Hello Cook! How are you this splendid day?" I asked pulling up a stool next to the table in the middle of the room. I removed my hat and summer jacket and started to peel some of the mushrooms that were left on the table.
"Why Miss Wendy, 'tis a pleasant surprise to see you down 'ere so early! Don't you have any work that the school sent home today?" asked the cook as she sat down next to me and started to chop up some of the carrots that lay on the table too. Our cook was not old, but not young either. She is the same age as Aunt Jade and grew up with my aunt in my grandmother's house. The two had become so close that when Aunt Jade moved out and got married she took Cook with her. Cook was not a tall woman or a big one, but she wore so many petticoats under her dress that you would get the impression she was bigger. She like my aunt never wore elaborate dresses, plain grey or black with a white apron. She had rough hands from all the meals she made and her skin was becoming dry. Her face was always smiling and her baby–blue eyes always seemed to dance. Her blond hair was beginning to fade into grey and she kept it back in a tight bun so that when she cooked she didn't have hair in the way. She was there in the morning when I woke up and when I went to bed she was there, it was as if she never left the house. However Aunt Jade said that she went back to her own little home a couple of streets away. I never knew her real name, she always went by Cook.
"It is Friday, remember? We never get any work sent home on Fridays," I said and she nodded in reply as she stood up and put the chopped up carrots into the large pot which she was now stirring. "In fact, I have a question that I would like to ask you," I said bringing over the mushrooms which I had peeled and chopped up.
"Well ask away dear, I'll try an' answer the best I can," she replied as I poured the mushrooms into the pot.
"What does it mean Cook when a man either buys a bunch of flowers for a woman or gives a woman a bunch of flowers?" I asked walked back to my chair. Cook turned around and looked at me quite astonished.
"Did a boy from you cousin's school give you a bunch of flowers?" she asked, quite anxious. This was good gossip.
"No, some boy from the near-by high school gave one of the girls in the upper class a bunch of flowers and I just want to know what that means. No man has ever give Aunt Jade any flowers, have they?" So many questions started to pop into my head, what did it all mean? I never really had any male influences, apart from those younger than me, that had done this so I had never been exposed to it before.
"Well, Miss Wendy, when a man gives a woman a," she paused, "a present like this bunch of flowers you are describing to me, it shows that he cares for her. Like your father would bring flowers to you mother when they were, oh, only seventeen. It was so romantic," she said with a sigh. I loved to listen to Cook talk about my mother and father when they were younger. My mother was the oldest and my father would come to my grandmother's house every day leaving flowers, or jewelry or chocolates, it was ever so romantic.
"One day cook will a boy bring me flowers?" I asked leaning forward looking at her.
"Yes my dear, how could anyone resist you. Such a purty girl like you," she said turning back to the pot. I leant back on my stool and imagined a tall handsome boy with curly hair and blue eyes showing up on my door step with a bunch or red roses and a ring...my train of thought was then interrupted when cook turned around and exclaimed "Oh Wendy I forgot to tell you! Your Aunt, Wendy Darling is coming for a visit, for you birthday!" Cook was so excited. Whenever my father's older sister came to visit me from Paris excitement spread through our house like a disease. All the stories that I have even known have been from listening to her tell them. She was a great storyteller and was a writer of children's books too. However, her books were not often published, but Aunt Jade always bought them and read them to me, I read them myself now of course. Aunt Wendy only came twice year, around my birthday and around Christmas. I was her only niece and she was ever so fond of me.
"Oh Cook, you just made my day by telling me that! When will she be arriving?" I asked now on my feet with my hands clasped and my eyes bright.
"She is arriving on Sunday so you better go and make sure that your room is spotless, and the nursery too," said cook looking over her shoulder at me. I was now jumping up and down this was so exciting.
"Will she be here on the day of my birth or must she leave?" I said suddenly standing still with a more concerned look on my face.
"I am afraid she will not be here for the day of your birth, she must leave the Wednesday before it, but she shall be here for and awfully long time. Miss Wendy do you know that this time in one week you shall be thirteen?" she said stopping what she was doing and looking at me.
"Oh yes Cook I do know, it is all that I have thought about today," just then the front door clicked open. I ran out and met my cousin's as the dropped every thing and ran upstairs to the nursery. "Oh Aunt Jade, is cook telling the truth, is Aunt Wendy Darling coming for a visit on Sunday and until Wednesday for my birthday?" I said looking up at my tired Aunt. She smiled at me and I knew that meant yes. I ran upstairs to the boys who were already diving into their toy chests.
Downstairs Aunt Jade locked the front door and walked through the dinner room into the kitchen. "She certainly seems happy at the news my old friend," said Aunt Jade standing next to Cook as she started to carve the meat that we would be having for supper. Cook just smiled in reply to what my aunt had said. "It is getting dark awfully quickly tonight, don't you think?" said Aunt Jade as she walked over to the stain glass door, she then looked back.
"Why yes, it is a mysterious time of year. It is going to be a very still night indeed. No noise will travel, no trees with rustle in the wind tonight my friend," said Cook in her mysterious.
"Yes, Wendy Darling is coming home, all of London can feel the change," said my aunt softly. There was a sweet silence between the two now until the thud of little boys running up and down was heard. "Well, I should start getting ready for work tonight, supper won't be long I trust?"
"No ma'am," said Cook. My aunt left the room and walked through the dinner room and up the stair case turning right and opened the door to her bedroom. At the other end of the hall the boy were running around with their toy swords and they had scarves around their head. They had stripped off their school clothes and now were just in plain white or black shirts with grey trousers. I too had taken off my school dress and now was in my plain white supper dress. I stepped out of my room whilst my little cousin's (who were pretending to be pirates) ran around clashing sword's and laughing. As soon as they saw me step out the stopped and sat in front of Thomas' (the middle child's) bed. I paced in front of them with my own head scarf on and a sword sheathed in my belt.
"Argh, you scoundrels! I have information for ye!" the boys cheered, I silenced them with my hand, "The nights are coming early and they wind has been stilled. These are the signs of a mystical being who is returning to us," I said leaning over them now staring at each boy in turn.
"Who is it Wendy, please tell us!" said Henry getting excited the other boys joined in the pleading cries.
"The magical being is," pause, "Aunty Wendy Moira Angela Darling! The Storytelling queen!" I said throwing my hands up in the air. The boys jumped up and we all started to dance, just as Cook called us down for supper. The boys threw there head scarves and toy sword's to the side and ran down stairs. The window was now open and there was only a thin line of golden orange and the stars had come out to play. I picked up the sword's and placed them in the toy chest along with mine. Whilst picking up the scarves I thought I heard a noise from the window, a tinkling and a little chuckle that belonged to a boy. I cautiously walked over to the window and looked out of it but there was nothing there. That was my first encounter with real mystery and my life would never be the same again.