Title: To Have & To Hold
Author: Squeezynz
Chapter: Two - The Book
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Drawing her gaze from the image of her youthful self, Wendy continued to read, her life laid down on the printed page, no detail or incident unrecorded, the following pages encapsulating her life from the tender age of thirteen to sixteen, the chapter finishing with her removal from her family home to her Aunts. The heading of the next chapter was simply 'Millicent' and Wendy read the first paragraph with growing discomfort. The author, whoever they were, were now telling Wendy's life through the eyes of her Aunt, her voice clearly heard in Wendy's head as the narrative related several conversations that no-one but herself and her Aunt had been privy to.
"This isn't possible." Wendy whispered to herself, her forehead folded in a frown of growing bewilderment. Turning the page brought another painting of herself, this time dressed for her first formal dance, her face flushed with anticipation, her fingers nervously clutching a posy of white roses that had been sent to her, but neither Wendy nor her Aunt ever knew who her admirer had been. Peering at the impossibly-to-exist painting, Wendy noticed that there appeared to be a landscape in the background, the detail too hazy to make out whether it was the wallpaper behind her or a picture hanging on the wall. The longer she looked the less she could make out until she shook her head and continued to read about her life at her Aunts, through that lady's eyes. The chapter ended abruptly on the event of Wendy's eighteenth birthday and Wendy felt her eyes burn with the strain of reading in the uncertain light of her shadowy bedroom.
Glancing at her small ormolu clock beside her bed she realised that several hours had passed since she'd returned home and yet no-one had come to fetch her for a meal or to enquire about her. Swinging her legs off the side of the bed she shivered, her room suddenly chill, causing her to reach for a thick shawl at the end of the bed usually thrown over her nightdress to ward off the cold night air. Walking to the window she pulled back the curtains and stared out at the rapidly darkening sky, a few flakes were starting to drift down out of the heavens, melting as soon as they touched a surface. Barely believing what she was seeing, Wendy pushed up the sash of her window and leant out, heedless of the chill rushing into her room. Holding out a hand she waited for one of the snowflakes to alight on her skin, the icy offering stinging her for a second before melting into a droplet and running off her hand.
"But it's only September." Wendy remarked to herself, her brows once more drawn together as the snow started to fall more heavily, forcing her to retreat into her room and close the window. As she reached to pull the curtains closed her eye caught the flash of something in the sky and she stood frozen, staring across the rooftops at a star that appeared to pulsate in the skies above London. Off to its left another, fainter star also appeared, its light more yellow that its brighter brother.
"Second star to the right..." Wendy breathed, her words leaving a mist on the glass in front of her.
Yanking the curtains closed she almost ran to her bedroom door and pulled it open. The landing outside was dark, no lights apparently lit despite the darkness outside.
"Amy? Why haven't the lights been lit? Amy?" Wendy called out as she clutched the shawl more tightly about her shoulders, her other hand following the wooden bannister rail as she made her way cautiously down the carpeted stairs in the semi-gloom. "Amy?"
Fumbling her way to the hall table, Wendy tried to light a match to ignite the wick of a table lamp but none of the matches would strike. Throwing the box down in disgust Wendy swung around and headed for the front door, the latch stiff and uncooperative until, with a loud click, the lock gave and Wendy lurched out on to the front step, her breath fogging in the cold air.
The pavement and road was already white with a light dusting, the flakes starting to fall more thickly as Wendy took a step outside to stare in shock at the houses opposite. None showed any lights, and the street lamps were similarly doused. There were no marks on the pavement of footprints or wheel tracks on the roadway. Turning her head from side to side, Wendy could see little beyond the few houses either side of her, the snow now falling so thickly that visibility was quickly shrinking down to just her Aunts house and the pavement at the bottom of the steps. Hesitantly Wendy took a step forward but a flurry of flakes drove her back, the ice stinging her face and hands as she tried to protect herself. With a cry she twisted around and stumbled back into the house, her teeth chattering as rivulets of chill water dripped from her hair down her face.
"What is happening?" She cried out, the house silent as she shivered with fright and cold. Expecting and receiving no answer, Wendy hurried to check all the rooms on the ground floor, the doors left open behind her as she ran on numb feet, hoping against hope to find someone, anyone to tell her it was all a mistake, a cruel joke.
Almost sobbing she returned to the foyer having found no indication of anyone ever having lived in the house, let alone her Aunt and the few servants she employed. It was almost full dark now, only a faint glimmer of pale light coming through the glass above the door as Wendy made her way up the stairs to her room, her arms wrapped around her body, her mind frighteningly blank.
When she reached the top of the stairs she saw a light spilling out of her room, warm and golden like the sun rising.
"Aunt Millicent?" Wendy quavered, her feet carrying her towards her bedroom doorway, the light growing brighter the closer she came.
"Wh-o-o's in there?" Edging her way cautiously into the room, she had to hold up her hand to shield her eyes as the light blazed into incandescence, flooding the room with heat.
Beyond fear, Wendy stepped forward fully into the light, her eyes almost shut against the glare. Her bed seemed to be the center of the light source and she recalled that the book had been left there. Blinking, she squinted and could just see the hard edges of the book's cover lying on top of her coverlet, a beam of light emanating from the coin like medallion she'd seen pressed into the leather cover. As she peered slit-eyed at the beam of light, she saw something suspended over the book, dangling just above the medallion. Drawn by some unknown force, Wendy approached the bed, her shawl dropping to the floor unheeded as she reached out to grasp the object suspended over the book. As her fingers wrapped around whatever it was, the light suddenly winked out of existence leaving her blinking stupidly while spots of light danced over her vision. She stood there beside the bed for some seconds until her sight once more adjusted to the gloom of her room. As her sight returned, so did her other senses, her ears registering noises coming from outside the house, of footsteps on the stairs beyond her room.
"I've come to see if'n you'd like a cup of tea Miss Wendy?" Amy cheerful voice jolted her out of her trance.
Looking up and around, Wendy met Amy's enquiry look with a bemused one of her own. "Tea?"
"Yes Miss...cup of tea, some of cook's sultana cake?"
"Er...yes...thank you...I'll be down presently." Wendy continued to stare at the maid with an abstracted air, the girl stepping further into the room in curiosity.
"Are you alright Miss? You look a mite peaky. Would you like your tea up here?"
"NO...er no...thank you. I'll come down...I'm...I'm just a bit tired."
"As you wish." Giving Wendy a curious glance the maid left, the sound of her feet pattering down the stairs keeping Wendy's attention until they faded into the distance.
Thoroughly confused, Wendy turned back to the bed to stare down at the inoffensive book lying as she'd left it on the coverlet, its cover once more dull with age and dirt, the coin medallion almost invisible. She started to shake in reaction, her legs giving out until she sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Almost at once she leapt up again, rushing over to the window and pulling back the curtains. Outside it was dusk with lights blazing from all the houses opposite and still a trickle of traffic trundling past the few pedestrians hurrying home. Of the snow storm there was no sign, nor of the two bright stars in the sky.
Something brushed against her hand and she realised she was still holding whatever had been floating above the book. Opening her fingers she felt a rush of tears flood her eyes as she gazed down at the chain and pendant sitting so innocently on her palm.
The chain was still bright, the gold not dulled with the years, but the pendant was a shadow of its former glory, the smooth surface with its small hole now wrinkled and black, the stalk shriveled, the leaf crumbled to dust.
"My Kiss..." Wendy whispered, the tears trembling on her lashes before falling over and blazing a path down her cheek. Cupping the withered acorn in both her hands she walked back to the bed and sat down beside the book. Carefully she deposited the blackened memento onto the coverlet and stared down at the two side by side.
Sniffing, Wendy wiped her face with the back of her hand, hardly knowing what to think. Had she been asleep and just dreaming? Had it all been an hallucination? What did it all mean?
"I must have dreamed it." Fumbling in her skirt pocket for a hanky, Wendy wiped the rest of her tears away and blew her nose. Drawing in a shaky breath she rose to her feet and brushed down her skirts. Feeling her hair brush against her face she moved to her dressing table and sat down, quickly twisting her hair into a loose bun and securing it with pins. Her eyes looked red and her cheeks were pale, but she hardly noticed, her thoughts introspective as she prepared to go downstairs and have the tea prepared for her.
"It was just a dream...I fell asleep and had a...a...nightmare. Nothing more." Blithely ignoring the facts, the book that couldn't exist, and the acorn that shouldn't exist, Wendy straightened her shoulders and walked out of her room.
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"She almost came through."
"Patience lad...she'll be here soon enough."
"Why didn't it work? Has it been too long?"
"Nay...give it time. She has a lot to remember, it's been a few years."
"Six to be exact in her world...has she forgotten me?"
"Nay...not exactly."
"She didn't recognize me...she has forgotten me."
"You worry too much. The Book says she'll come, so she will."
"But what if she doesn't...what if she chooses to forget?"
"That'll never happen. She'll come...in her own good time."
"Maybe I should go and see her again."
"You'd be foolish to push it...Hook will use it to his advantage is he finds out you've already pre-empted him. He might think to lure her."
"He's too old...and anyway...Wendy loved me, not him."
"Ah lad...women are fickle creatures. She loved you as a girl, now she's a woman and Hook is not unattractive to the opposite sex."
"I'll gut him if he tries it."
"Yes well...all I'm saying is give it time. She'll have to get to know you all over again."
"Have I changed so much?"
"We all have lad...you, her, Neverland...the whole kit and kaboodle."
"She is beautiful, doncha think?"
"Handsome is as handsome does...it's what's in the heart that counts."
"Why Matt, I do believe you've become a romantic in your old age."
"Get away with ya, ya swab...isn't there something you should be doing? Or are we expected to Captain this tub ourselves?"
"I'm going..."
Quartermaster Stubbs watched his youthful Captain bound up the stairs to the main deck, the hatch banging shut behind him. Turning away, Stubbs leant his hands on the rough hewn table set in the middle of the Captain's cabin, the book laying open on the uneven surface looking innocent of the power locked between its covers. With a sigh Stubbs used a single finger to turn the page, the image the same as when he'd looked at it a moment ago with his Captain.
The painting showed the image of a young women, her hand outstretched to grasp a chain suspended in light, her other arm thrown up to shield her eyes from the intense rays.
"Patience, my Captain...she'll be here soon enough. Then we'll see the fur fly."
Hooking the front of the book he slammed it shut, the shiny coin medallion on the front winking brightly against the red leather binding.
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Wendy slept late the next morning, her eyes gritty and sore. Rushing to get to work, she jammed the book into a bag, only touching it when her hands were gloved. On arriving at Bennetts she apologized to Arnold profusely but that gentleman only chided her for looking so wan before leaving her to carry on cataloging the latest additions to the collection.
The book lay forgotten for most of the morning until Wendy had occasion to seek a handkerchief. As soon as her hand dipped into her bag, the book seemed to find its way between her fingers. Every time she put it aside and delved again the book seemed to catch itself, putting itself into her palm until she had to lift it out in frustration.
She put the book down on the counter and found her handkerchief within seconds. Just as she was about to throw the book back into her bag Mr.Bennett appeared.
"Everything alright m'dear?"
"Oh yes...quite alright. Just a sniffle."
Peering over his half-glasses, Mr.Bennett picked up the slim book before Wendy could, turning it over in his hand and inspecting the spine and cover.
"Now I haven't seen this for many a year. From the attic?"
Wendy blushed and nodded.
Cradling it carefully in one hand, he opened it with the other, his eyebrows rising as he read the front page.
"I didn't know you were interested in piracy?"
Perplexed, Wendy could only stare at her employer open mouthed.
Seeing her expression, Mr.Bennett held up the book for her to see the fly leaf. The title read "Pirates and Piracy - A Personal Journal"
"But...but..it didn't...that's not..." Wendy spluttered, unable to explain.
"Not that I don't see the romantic attraction of such a profession, but I would hardly call it light reading for a young lady."
Seeing the twinkle in his eye, Wendy snapped her mouth shut and attempted to smile. "I was doing some research, you see..."
"You don't have to explain...I remember when this came in, from an deceased estate collection...strange family name...sounded like..." Mr.Bennett's forehead creased as he tried to remember. "Tree...or Flea...or...something like that..."
Feeling the blood drain from her face, Wendy swallowed hard.
"Smee?"
The frown on Mr.Bennett's face disappeared and he snapped the fingers of his free hand. "Smee..that's the name. Now how did you know that?"
"Er...I guessed?"
"Well you're quite right...a seafaring gentlemen, lived to a ripe old age and had a fascinating collection of artifacts collected from around the world."
"Did you see any of these...er...artifacts?" Wendy asked, not at all sure she wanted to hear the answer.
"Some...I remember they caused quite a stir in the scientific circles because of their claims to be authentic."
Wendy swallowed on a dry throat. "Authentic?"
"Yes...silly really. I mean fairies and mermaids don't exist, do they?"
"Er...no, I suppose they don't."
Mr. Bennett tapped a finger against the book, lost in his remembrance. "I do remember one article that stood out. A collection of gold and silver hooks."
"Hooks?" Wendy could feel the walls starting to recede and then crowd in.
"Yes, most unusual...a carved wooden box with a red velvet lining, very expensive and ornate, like a jewel case, but it held very sharp hooks of different shapes and sizes. The kind a man would use if he'd lost a hand..." Mr.Bennett belatedly realised his audience was swaying. "Why Wendy...whatever is the matter...oh my!"
Dropping the book hurriedly, Mr.Bennett caught his assistant as she flopped forward, her eyes closed. Wendy was by no means a large girl, but Mr.Bennett was not a strong man and wilted under her weight. Just as he thought that they would both end up on the carpet, the door opened and a gentlemen entered. Taking in the situation at a glance, the man came around the end of the counter and scooped the girl into his arms, relieving Mr.Bennett who indicated for the stranger to carry Wendy over to a divan and lay her down.
"I don't know what came over the dear girl...she was fine a moment ago, then suddenly..." Mr.Bennett hurried back to the counter and rummaged in one of the drawers, finding the vial he was seeking.
The stranger was kneeling beside the divan, chafing Wendy's hand when Mr.Bennett leant over and suggested he wave the vial under her nose.
Flinging back his dark cloak, he did just that, Wendy's nose wrinkling as she inhaled the astringent fumes. With a gasp she came awake, her eyes wide as she beheld the man leaning over her. To every ones surprise she screamed and covered her face, the man rearing back and almost stepping on Mr.Bennett who similarly stepped backwards.
"Oh dear...it was all that talk on pirates. Must have frightened the poor girl. I do apologize."
Rising stiffly to his full height, the man regarded Mr.Bennett with a sardonic smile, his eyes gleaming as he turned to leave. "I don't imagine it was pirates, maybe I reminded her of someone."
"Dear sir...I can only thank you for your prompt action."
"Think nothing of it...I'll leave you to take care of her and return another time."
Not waiting a moment longer, the dark stranger left the shop in a swirl of black silk, Mr.Bennett taking his position beside the divan.
"Has he gone?" Wendy's muffled voice came from behind her fingers.
"Yes m'dear...how are you feeling?"
"Embarrassed."
"You should have told me you were unwell..I don't expect you to work if you don't feel up to snuff."
"I'm not unwell...mad maybe, but not ill," Wendy's voice had an hysterical edge that sent Mr.Bennett reaching for the smelling salts again. Seeing his worried frown, Wendy swung her legs over the edge of the divan and sat up, a forced smile painting her face.
"Please Mr.Bennett...I don't know what came over me, really. I...er...I had a bad night...um..nightmares and such."
"Ah...reading that book until the small hours, I'll hazard a guess."
"Something like that...I am sorry to be so weak willed..."
"Not at all...and the gentleman said he'd be back, so no custom lost there."
"Gentleman?"
"The one who carried you here," Mr. Bennett laughed softly, "I could hardly do that myself."
"Oh dear...was he a young gentleman?" Wendy could feel herself blush to the roots of her hair as she studiously studied her skirts.
"Not young...don't you remember, you screamed when you opened your eyes."
"Oh Lord...I didn't...oh I did." Mortified, Wendy covered her face again.
"Tut tut, nothing to worry about...I'm sure he felt very gallant rescuing you from a 'fate worse than death'."
Hearing the amusement in his voice Wendy looked up. "Fate?"
"An ignominious heap on the carpet, m'dear."
"Oh."
"Just teasing...getting the roses back in your cheeks. Now, a cup of tea is needed I think. You stay here and I'll return with the pot."
"But..."
"No buts...you just sit here, I'll be back directly."
As she watched her employer duck into the side room, Wendy rose to her feet and advanced on the counter, the book laying where Mr.Bennett had dropped it. Snatching it up, Wendy flipped through the pages, but instead of her life story, the pages were filled with images of small boys, dressed most strangely in furs and feathers and leaves, sporting weapons as diverse as their dress. The first chapter was headed up 'The Lost Boys' and Wendy skip read the early pages, flipping back the illustrations until she reached the second chapter. Her heart seemed to still in her chest as she read the title. 'The New Pan'
"What does that mean? The 'New Pan'. What happened to the old Pan? What happened to Peter?"
Mr.Bennett chose that moment to return with a cup of strong tea and Wendy had to put the book down. He steered Wendy back to her seat and fussed over her until a customer entered the shop, then he left her with her thoughts.
For Wendy the morning seemed interminable, the trickle of customers keeping both her and Mr.Bennett busy until well after their lunchtime. Even then the bell above the door seemed to sound again before they had done more than sip their tea and take a bite of anything, let alone pick up a book and read it. By afternoon Wendy felt stretched thin with nervous tension, the book almost calling to her to read it, to learn what had happened in Neverland during her long absence.
At last Mr.Bennett was shooing her out the door, the book once more safely tucked into her handbag, her employer extolling her not to burn the midnight oil again as he waved her goodbye.
Hurrying along the pavement among the crowds of other shop-girls and workers, Wendy didn't heed the carriage shadowing her, the hackney indistinguishable from the hundreds of others plying their trade, nor did she see the occupant who watched the slight figure intently as she hurried home.
Wendy was so intent on reaching her room she didn't hear her Aunt call out to her as she rushed up the stairs, shedding her hat, hat-pins and gloves as she went, her hair tumbling down her back as she fled to the relative security of her room. Slamming the door behind her, she scrabbled in her bag for the book before flinging the accessory into the corner along with her coat. Sitting down heavily on her bed she almost dropped the slim volume her hands trembled so much. In her haste to open it she skipped the first few pages and found herself staring down at a figure of a boy, his cheeky grin an echo of the boy she'd known, but his features completely unknown to her.
"Who are you?" Wendy asked the painting, skimming back through the pages to reach the first, her eyes darting down the page to find out where 'her' Peter had gone. She read the entire chapter and it told her nothing of what had become of the Pan she'd known, just relating the adventure of the boy in the painting that bore no relation to her memory. Certainly the adventures were the same, his clothing and weapons as she recalled, but the face that stared out of the page held none of the spark, the sheer vitality of the boy she'd lost her heart to. A sound caught her attention and she looked up from her close inspection to find her Aunt standing in the doorway looking in at her, her expression somewhere between disapproval and alarm.
"Wendy?"
"Oh...sorry...did you call me?"
"Several times dear...you rushed in, but I wasn't quick enough to catch you. Rushing pell mell up the stairs is hardly lady-like Wendy, and as for throwing your things all over the entrance hall...what ever possessed you?"
"I'm sorry...I just...I had to get upstairs."
Pursing her lips, Millicent stared pointedly at the book still clutched in Wendy's hand. "What is so important that you just had to forego common curtesy and hide yourself in your room?"
Glancing down at the book, Wendy bit her lip. Millicent held out her hand and Wendy reluctantly surrendered the book, closing her eyes when her Aunt flipped the book open to the first page.
"Well, I don't see what was so all fired important about hiding this from me?"
Wendy opened her eyes and stared up at her Aunt who was flipping through the book with a very smug expression on her face.
"And there I was thinking you didn't pay one whit of attention to anything I've said...oh Wendy, I'm so happy."
Thoroughly confused, Wendy rose to her feet and came to stand beside her Aunt, looking over her shoulder at the book. As her Aunt flipped the pages Wendy could see several illustrations for elaborate gowns, several with long trains and flowing flowers. To Wendy's astonishment the book appeared to be all about wedding dresses, along with advice about flowers and other marital paraphernalia for the future bride. Millicent closed the book with a snap and embraced her niece with a kiss on both cheeks before pressing the book back into Wendy's nerveless fingers.
"When were you going to tell me?"
"Tell you what Aunt?"
"Who the lucky man is?"
"Lucky man?"
"The man you've decided to marry...Oh Wendy, don't tease me..who is he?"
"I have no idea...this book...oh dear...this book, it wasn't what I brought home."
"Oh come now dear...you can tell me? Or are you keeping it as a surprise for your dear parents. Oh how exciting...at least tell me his first name or I'll just burst with anticipation."
Wendy found herself lost for words, her Aunt's bright, intent gaze and obvious enthusiasm making her distinctly uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry Aunt, but I have no one in mind to marry...no one at all."
Millicent's face fell dramatically and Wendy winced inwardly at her Aunt's wounded look.
"Oh Wendy...how unkind of you. It's not much to ask for his first name...is it?"
Feeling a headache coming on, Wendy searched her suddenly blank mind for a name to give her Aunt.
"Peter...his name...is...Peter."
Again she found herself fondly embraced before her Aunt patted her on the arm and headed for the bedroom door.
"Thank you dear...I promise to keep it a secret until you tell George and Mary...oh how wonderful...Peter..."
Wendy waited for her Aunt to leave before sinking back down on the bed and dropping her head into her hands, the book discarded once more on the coverlet.
"What have I done?"
With her face still hidden in her hands, Wendy fell sideways onto her pillows, wondering how on earth she was going to get herself out of the pickle she'd created by lying to her Aunt.
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Wendy dragged herself up to her room later that evening, her ears burning from all the thinly veiled suggestions of places to hold the service and recommended guests for the list her Aunt was already starting to compile. That combined with the knowing looks and smug smile when Millicent thought Wendy wasn't looking, produced a headache that Wendy used to shorten the interminable probing, albeit subtle, that accompanied almost every breath her Aunt took.
Through it all Wendy gritted her teeth and wished she'd bitten off her tongue rather than give credence to the lie, had never seen the wretched book that seemed to have the ability to change its printing at the drop of a hat. On reaching her room she spied the offending publication still sitting on her bed. Picking it up as if it were a dead mouse she flung it into a corner where it lay face up in the shadows.
Preparing herself for bed soothed Wendy somewhat, her head ceasing to pound quite so violently as she brushed out her hair and slipped into her nightgown. Too tired to think she climbed into bed after dousing the lights, her eyes closed before her head sank into the pillows. Almost at once her eyes opened as she felt something digging into her side. Sitting up she swept her hand over the bottom sheet and encountered the chain which had held the withered acorn pendant. Suddenly angry, Wendy made to fling the token away from her, but somehow the chain became entwined about her fingers. Trying again, she disentangled the links and held it all bundled up in her hand, attempting once more to throw the lot away from herself. Once again the chain somehow managed to tangle itself in her fingers, keeping the acorn snuggly against her palm.
"Oh for heaven's sake...I give up."
Falling back to her pillows, Wendy left the chain as it was, her fingers folding over the blackened acorn as her eyes closed once more and she slipped quickly into a deep sleep.
In the corner the book seemed to shiver, moving across the carpet an inch before becoming still again, then a minute later it moved again, this time lifting into the air and starting to spin, slowly at first and then faster as it rose higher. It remained closed until it had floated almost to the ceiling then it stopped spinning when the book flipped itself open and lay back on its spine, the pages standing up as if frozen in place like the petals of a flower. Slowly the front and back pages started to come together so that the pages spread out even further, looking like a strange star when the two hard covers finally fused together. It continued to float there for a second before it started to emit a glow, the light strengthening with each pulse, flooding the bedroom and illuminating the sleeper but not waking her.
Tucked away in Wendy's hand, the acorn started to glow as well, the nut turning from black to green to gold in the space of a heartbeat, the chain glowing like a ribbon of light wound around Wendy's fingers, pulsing in time with the book.
With the connection made the book, that now looked more like a star, floated across the room and hovered over the sleeper, the light giving the girl an ethereal glow, the covers of the bed peeling away as if pulled by an invisible hand. As it floated above the bed the book-star began to spin, the pages fluttering slightly as it moved, the acorn against Wendy's palm worming its way out and lifting up as if to join with the book as it whirled madly in the air. As if this was the signal the light strengthened and became blinding, cloaking Wendy in gold from head to toe until she too became a thing of light, her body filled and surrounded by it, her outline gradually dissolving, becoming absorbed by the light. In a blink she was gone, the book twisting drunkenly in its mad spinning, the light dying as the outer covers separated and started to fold back on itself until, with a snap, the book closed, dropping lightly to the mattress as if just discarded by its owner.
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TBC...