Chapter 5: Wendy Lady
Wendy sat at her vanity, staring at her own reflection in the mirror. She slowly turned her head back and forth, admiring the chandelier earrings dangling from her ears. She'd received them from her mother a couple of weeks ago for her sixteenth birthday, and was just now trying them on. She was pleased with the way they looked on her, and as the corners of her sweet, mocking mouth turned up in a faint smile, she saw an image of her own mother in the mirror.
Even with all the fuss Aunt Millicent had riled up, the charm and beauty lessons she conferred to Wendy appeared to pay off. Wendy had grown into a true lady. She looked, acted, and sounded like a respectable woman of society, and there didn't seem to be a remnant of a child left in her. Even her room, which had been carefully redecorated with velvety curtains and floral-printed wallpaper, displayed her transformation. The young women admired her friendliness and etiquette, and the young men adored her beauty and meekness, yet Wendy felt that something was missing. A fine English gentleman, Aunt Millicent had often insisted, would fill the gap in her niece's heart, but Wendy knew it was something beyond that.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Wendy said, welcoming the guest to her room.
A second later, the door creaked open, and her youngest brother's head popped through the doorway.
"Umm, Wendy?" Michael said, walking tentatively into the room. "May I ask you something?"
"Yes, of course," Wendy replied pleasantly, turning in her seat to face her eight-year old brother. "What is it that you want to ask me?"
She held out her hands to Michael, who took them appreciatively.
"Can you, umm…Well could you, that is…" Michael stammered.
As he fidgeted with his words, Wendy gradually fathomed what he was going to ask her.
"Do you think you could tell me…about Peter Pan?" he finally asked. "I-I think I might be forgetting."
With a sigh, Wendy let Michael's hands slip away from her own. She turned away from him and back to her reflection in the vanity mirror.
"I barely remember anything about him," Wendy said to her brother, trying to keep her voice steady. She stared into the mirror, fiddling with the loose curls of her hair.
"Oh…I see," Michael replied with a hint of disappointment. He lingered behind his sister as if he had more to say.
Wendy looked to her brother through the mirror and saw him with his head down, biting his fingernails nervously. Once more, she let out a sigh.
"Michael," Wendy said, reaching over to him and lifting his chin encouragingly. "It's been nearly four years. We can't hope to keep Peter Pan in our minds forever."
Michael nodded his head, still staring at the floor.
"Besides," Wendy added in a whisper, speaking more to herself than to Michael, "he will never return."
Wendy and Michael were both occupied in their own thoughts, and the room remained silent for a long time before Wendy spoke again.
"Why don't you see what the Twins are up to?" she suggested to Michael. "I'm sure they'd be of more interest to you than I could be."
"Alright," Michael answered miserably. He walked out of Wendy's room, leaving behind an air of hopelessness.
Wendy sat staring at her lap, her eyes following the intricate beadwork of her scarlet red dress. She did not mean to let Michael down so terribly, but she also did not want to be reminded of the one thing that took her so long to try and forget. Peter obviously forgot about her and her brothers, so why should they bear trying to keep him in their thoughts and hopelessly expect him to come back?
Later in the day, Wendy agreed to join her mother for tea at the home of the Susan Drake, whose family, for a long time, had been a good acquaintance to the Darlings. Wendy decided that she needed to get out of the house, and knew that if the "grown-up" conversation between Mrs. Drake and her mother got dull, she could always talk to Mrs. Drake's daughter, Catherine, who also happened to be Wendy's classmate.
And it was just as Wendy had expected. Only after her first cup of tea, she found it difficult to follow Mrs. Drake's conversation at the table. She, however, did not forget the table manners Aunt Millicent had taught her. She sat perfectly straight in her chair with an artificial smile on her face, occasionally nodding at whatever Mrs. Drake said, and she was extremely posh in making certain that she did not slurp while taking sips of her tea. Wendy had to admit, nonetheless, that she was quite relieved when Catherine, who was also sitting at the table with an aura of lackluster, suggested that she and Wendy remove themselves from the table.
"Mother, might Wendy and I move into the parlor?" Catherine politely interrupted her mother, who had been chatting on to Mrs. Darling about planning a tea party for the ladies of Bloomsbury.
"Oh, yes, if you'd like," Mrs. Drake replied with a quick glance to her daughter. "You two might be more comfortable there."
Mrs. Darling nodded in agreement.
"The tea was wonderful Mrs. Drake," Wendy complimented her host as she rose from her chair.
"Thank you, dear," Mrs. Drake said with a smile. "Catherine will show you into the parlor."
Wendy followed Catherine out of the dining area and to the parlor next door. She felt that she could relax a bit more now that she was with a fellow peer, and she wasn't as conscience about her posture as she took a seat next to Catherine on the parlor's oversized blue sofa.
"So how has the first week of school been for you?" Catherine asked, making herself comfortable on the sofa. "I myself have been dreading it from day one."
"It's bearable I suppose," Wendy answered with a little laugh. "Needlepoint classes have been a bit-numbing, I must admit."
"A bit," Catherine said sarcastically. "Goodness, I can hardly stand it. And they say it will help us become proper women. I certainly don't see how."
"I suppose it's for the best," Wendy said with an amused smile.
Catherine shrugged her shoulders, and then asked curiously, "Have your parents begun seeking eligible suitors for you yet?"
Wendy remembered all the times Aunt Millicent had mentioned the subject to her parents. "Wendy must be commenced," her aunt had said. "She must attend more gatherings and meet fitting families and their sons. It's a crucial thing at her ripening age, you know." There was no doubt that Aunt Millicent already had a list of qualified young gentlemen at hand for Wendy.
"My parents have talked a little about it," Wendy told Catherine, understating the actual situation. "I haven't put much thought into it personally, however."
"Really?" Catherine said, clearly surprised. "My parents seem so concerned with it. I have a strong feeling they're hoping for Andrew Durham. Do you know him?"
"Yes, I think I recall meeting him once or twice," Wendy replied, remembering the tall, freckle-faced boy. "How do you like him?"
"He's fair, I suppose," Catherine answered unconvincingly. She paused for a moment, and breathed in a deep sigh before going on. "I…I suppose he likes me, what with all the roses and chocolates he sends to the house, but even so…"
"You don't like him," Wendy supposed what Catherine was refusing to admit.
Catherine smiled hopelessly at Wendy.
"It's not that I don't like him," she insisted, "I could grow to love him if it's what my parents truly wanted."
Wendy bit her lip anxiously. She wished she could tell Catherine just how terrible that had sounded.
Being forced into love? Impossible.
"Maybe…Maybe you just need more time with Andrew," Wendy offered a hollow piece of advice. "He might really be more than you expect."
Catherine simply nodded, dropping her eyes to the floor, and after a short pause, an impish smile formed across her lips.
Wendy let out a soft laugh.
"What might you be smiling so deviously about?" she asked Catherine, who looked back up at Wendy with the same grin.
"Wendy, I'll tell you who has really captured my heart," Catherine said with a slight blush.
"Who?" Wendy grinned back at Catherine wonderingly.
"William Locke," the fluttering girl answered with a short giggle. "Big surprise, hmm? Just like every other girl in London."
"Do you mean the son of Doctor Thomas Locke?" Wendy asked, remembering the name being brought up by some of the girls at school.
"I'm sure you've heard other girls eulogizing him a countless number of times," Catherine said, "but can you blame us all?" She laughed while covering her mouth girlishly with her hand.
"I'm afraid I don't know much about him," Wendy admitted. "Besides the fortune I've heard he's to inherit."
"Oh, Wendy, he's charming," Catherine said, grinning. "He attends the London Boys' Academy. I hear he can be quite mischievous at times, but I don't think it ever gets too out of hand. He's always dressed to impress and…he has a smile that can nearly melt a girl's heart away. He even has a smart way with words, I must say."
"How so?" Wendy asked, furrowing her eyebrows with curiosity.
Catherine gave her a witty smile, and then explained, "I happened to run into him earlier today while I was in town with my mother…"