1831
The sound of metal and wood crashing against each other echoed through the woods. The path was covered in snow, making it hard for Daniel to push forward through the already thick vegetation that was hidden underneath. He had gathered a small collection of tools – without his father's knowledge, of course. John wouldn't appreciate his son lending his precious hammers and screwdrivers. So Daniel stole them instead.
He wandered in the northern direction of the Blean. It wouldn't be long till he reached the agreed-upon destination. Everything had been planned out perfectly; not a soul was allowed to know, so it had to be somewhere distant from the village.
Daniel finally saw the broad blond boy appear between the trees. He felt shivers run down his spine, which he wasn't sure if was due to the biting cold or the nervousness nagging at him, but he kept going. "Wilkinson," Henry said with a wry smile, "Thought you'd never show up."
"I've got the tools, Henry," Daniel said and lifted the box he carried, "Now what?"
"Here, let me see." He reached for the toolbox. Daniel reluctantly gave it to him, worried that Henry might draw the hammer from it and beat him to death. Fortunately that wasn't the case. At least Henry wasn't that mad.
"Hmm..." Henry scrambled through the box for a while, then closed the lid and gave it back to Daniel, "That'll work." He turned around and gestured with his arms in a wide circle. "What do you think?"
Daniel put down the toolbox and looked around, confusion building up within him. There was nothing but a small space between a couple of trees. "Think about what?"
"The place!" Henry said, as if it were obvious, "There are no bushes or branches in the way! Isn't it just perfect?"
"Yes, very," Daniel nodded, hoping that if he just agreed to whatever crazy idea Henry had, he would get him off his back soon.
Henry grabbed Daniel's shoulder, a bit too firmly for Daniel's liking, and brought himself closer to the smaller boy, "Do you know what it's for?"
Daniel gulped and shook his head, while Henry continued to put his arm around his shoulders.
"We're going to build our own little clubhouse!" Henry said enthusiastically.
Daniel's eyes were as wide as teacups. "We are?"
"And by 'ours', I mean 'mine'," Henry continued while nodding satisfied, "And by 'we', of course I mean you."
It took Daniel a while to realise what Henry was actually saying. Suddenly he felt very uncomfortable. Henry laughed as he wriggled out of his hold. "No! I cannot do that!"
Henry was very amused. "Why not? It's my birthday! It's only fair you make me a present!"
"Because I am simply not able to! I can't build a house, I can barely even build a piece of furniture!" Daniel exclaimed, rather upset that Henry would actually expect him to build something for him. He couldn't care less if it was the boy's birthday, he wasn't his slave!
"Well, Wilkinson," Henry said and picked up the toolbox from the ground, "Then you better learn it – and learn it fast." He gave it back to Daniel with a push so hard it made him take a step back. Daniel sent a glare to the back of Henry's head as the sadistic boy walked away, laughing so loudly it could be heard throughout the Blean.
14 years old, and still as malicious as ever, he thought bitterly.
Daniel really tried, but he accomplished nothing but a lot of bruises and injuries over the course of January. He had spent several hours up at night trying to sketch a blueprint for Henry – which Henry made him do over and over again because he never was quite satisfied with it – and had even built a very unstable model of it, but none of that seemed to help with the actual construction the slightest.
It didn't really get him anywhere, and Daniel knew. He wanted to just give up on the project and tell Henry that he couldn't do it, but he was too scared. What if Henry told Daniel's father about Serena? In fact he couldn't even trust Henry to keep quiet, even if he did build him a haunt. But he had to do something; he couldn't just sit back and let Henry blabber on about his secret friend to the whole of Canterbury.
So it had to come to this. Daniel had somehow known it right from the beginning, but he had tried his hardest to find another way, since he really didn't want to move out on such dangerous tides. But it couldn't be helped, and after a month's worth of attempts at building the clubhouse, Daniel had to admit it to himself.
He needed his father's expertise.
Daniel gathered himself and took a deep breath, just like he always did when about to talk to his father. It was like going into a lion's den; one could never be sure if they would get out alive. It was late in the evening. The snow outside became deeper and deeper. Everything had been peaceful, but the citizens of Canterbury suspected that it was merely the calm before the storm. A blizzard would probably show itself sooner or later.
Father had come home two hours ago. He had gone straight up to his room after eating the dinner, Daniel had made for him – that had gotten cold one hour earlier. Everything had been silent since then. Hazel was sleeping. Daniel moistened his lips and knocked on the door.
Nothing. There was no answer at first. He tried again.
"What?"
The low grumble was so sudden it made Daniel hiccup. He put a hand over his mouth and frowned, but then shook his head and put his hand on the door knob. He swallowed hard and turned it, cautiously peeking inside. His father was sitting by the desk with a bottle of scotch and some documents he was reading through, apparently. Daniel had no idea what they were about. John turned to look at the door. "What is it? Is she having another heart attack?" he mumbled annoyed.
Daniel fisted his hands. He really didn't like it when his father talked about Hazel like that. When he acted like he was bothered by her. He could be so careless at times. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. "No, she's asleep... I-I wanted to ask you something."
John stopped moving for a second, then put his documents back on the desk and turned completely towards Daniel. "What is it?"
The boy felt uncomfortable. He really just wanted to get it over with, but it was hard to say anything because he feared that he might push the wrong buttons. "I… I was wondering … if you could start tutoring me," he mumbled, "in building. Furniture and the likes."
There was a long pause. John looked at Daniel for a good while. He wasn't able to see what his father was thinking. His face was completely expressionless. He just kept staring. "Tutoring you?" John finally said and started rubbing his chin.
Daniel nodded frantically. He really wanted to escape this scene now. He felt nervous.
The broad man leaned back in his chair and took a sip of his scotch. He let out a heavy sigh and started tapping the armrest. He looked at his son with a calculative eye that made the boy feel even smaller still. At last he spoke, "Are you really up for it, son?"
Daniel tilted his head in confusion. He suddenly didn't feel as nervous any more, as if the lump in his throat had been a large plug that had finally been removed, letting all the tension seep out. Something had changed. Something in his father's eyes. He pondered it a bit, then realised that he should probably answer before his old man would grow too impatient. "Yes, Father."
John nodded and looked away, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He was silent for a small while, then he turned towards his desk again and reached for the documents. "We start tomorrow at four o'clock sharp. No excuses. Don't be late."
Daniel's eyes widened. For a minute he didn't know how to respond. John looked at his son again. "Now, what are you waiting for? Get to bed, you need to be fresh for school and work tomorrow. Shoo!" He waved his son away with a single hand gesture.
The words finally set in. Daniel quickly shook his head, then nodded hastily. "Yes! Of course. Goodnight, Father!" He closed the door behind him and ran back down to his room. In the master bedroom, John found himself doing something he hadn't done in years; he tucked on the corner of his lips.
The clubhouse really was coming along nicely. Henry couldn't deny that.
He had never actually expected Daniel to fulfil his crazy demands. He didn't really need the house anyway, he just wanted to hold it against Daniel. He waited for him to give up on it and come pleading back to him, but right now that didn't seem likely of happening.
Henry walked around the small unfinished building. There was no roof yet. Only one of the walls were actually finished. The structure was a bit shabby, but it was definitely a lot better than what he could have managed to build himself.
Daniel stood and watched Henry examine the progress, like he did once every month. Henry kept an eye on him. He seemed to be lost in his own world, not really caring much about Henry's examination.
While Daniel looked away, Henry pulled one of the nails loose. The younger boy didn't notice.
"It's decent," Henry said, "Keep it up."
Daniel nodded and followed Henry back out of the forest, completely unaware that Henry had just delayed his work.
Something about the way John ordered Daniel around seemed different. It was not as harsh, somehow. Still strict, very strict, but there was no biting. No nagging. Not as much as before, at least. John was a hard man to please and had always been, but for the first time in all of Daniel's life, the man actually seemed to recognize his efforts. Things were definitely changing. Daniel didn't know what to think of it. It all seemed too surreal.
But with the amount of shifts he had at the miller's, he would never be able to spend enough time with his father in the studio to actually learn something. He had to balance out his time. Of course money was important, but so was Henry's project. If Daniel didn't start it soon, he might tell on him. And that would put both Daniel and Serena in a pickle. He couldn't have that.
Besides, if Daniel started to craft furniture alongside his father, they might end up selling even more. That would mean a lot more money than Daniel could ever hope to make at the miller's. And that meant a lot more money for Hazel's treatment. They might even be able to transfer her to the London Infirmary!
So it wasn't a hard decision to make. Daniel felt a bit lighter as he walked the path by the Great Stour river leading to the mill. Everything seemed to be working out.
It didn't take him long till he reached his workplace. He had no shift today, so a couple of the other workers were surprised to see him. When they asked, Daniel told them that he was going to talk to the miller. Conveniently enough the miller's name was Miller. His family had owned this mill for at least a century. It was still running efficiently.
Mr. Miller was in his office looking over some documents. He was probably planning the production and when the next batch of flour and corn should be sent into town. He looked up as Daniel knocked on the door. "Ah, Daniel! What are you doing here? I don't have a shift for you today."
"I actually came to talk about my shifts, sir," Daniel said and gave a humble bow of his head, "I need to cut down on them."
Miller lifted his bushy eyebrows. He was a plump man who didn't look to be someone that did hours of hard labour every day. The dirt and sweat gave it away, though. "I see," he said and nodded, "That is actually very convenient. I was thinking about starting my son's training soon. With fewer shifts for you, there's more for him to do."
Daniel smiled and bowed again. "I'm glad that my absence won't be a bother to you, sir," he said.
Miller turned to his desk and scrambled the drawers for another document. It didn't take him long to find it. "So, how many hours shall I cut?"
"10 hours would be a big help, sir," Daniel said, still standing straight in his spot.
The miller looked at Daniel with a thoughtful look, then smiled so that the whole of his thick moustache became skew on his face, and chuckled. "I'll cut 15 hours."
Daniel opened his mouth in surprise. "15?"
"You're a good boy, Mr. Wilkinson," Miller said and turned towards Daniel again, "Now bugger off. I have work to do. I'll see you again on Tuesday."
The young boy stood for a bit to let the words sink in. Everyone around him seemed to be so nice all of a sudden. He was not quite used to it, but eventually he let himself enjoy the good things that were happening. He gave his boss a bright smile and said his gratitudes, then ran off home so that he could meet with his father.
Everything was finally working out. John had agreed to tutoring him. He was able to keep his friendship with Serena a secret. And even though Doctor Tate had said that Hazel was dying, she was doing a lot better now after the treatment. You're not going to die, Hazel, Daniel thought as he walked home, I'm not going to let you.
The weather did not seem as grey any more. The world did not seem as bad.
The months went by swiftly. There had been a blizzard, just like everyone had foreseen, but Daniel had with his father prepared the house for it. None of them suffered from the cold, not even Hazel who had become much more sensitive to it.
In March the snow had almost melted. Daniel had finally gotten started on his construction of the club – under the supervision of Henry, of course – and he was nearly finished with the foundation. With the ever growing bond between Daniel and John, it became easier to access the necessary tools and materials for building without any questioning or objections. So far everything had worked out smoothly. Daniel really couldn't complain. He liked things this way. It wasn't until he woke in the middle of the night midway through the month that he started to worry.
Actually, it wasn't so much worry as it was confusion and embarrassment. He didn't really know what had awoken him in the first place.
Daniel opened one eye and tried to focus. The lantern's light had grown dull. Hazel was sound asleep. He sat up in his bed, wondering for a second why he was awake. Then he remembered that he had felt something. He stiffened and reached a hand under his quilt. His stomach turned as he felt the moist.
The boy immediately jumped out of his bed, disgusted by himself. How could this happen? He wasn't a baby any more! He had not wetted his bed since he was three years old!
He quickly changed his underwear. As he was about to throw it into the laundry basket, he noticed something strange about the shorts. They were not as sodden as they should have been. He reluctantly felt the area. It felt … sticky.
Daniel frowned. He was pretty sure that that was not the feeling of the bodily fluid he had thought of at first. He threw the underwear into the laundry basket and went to change the linen. As he removed the fabric from the bed, he tried sniffing the moist area. It didn't smell the right way either. In fact, it didn't really smell at all. It was all very strange.
Daniel went to sleep again, feeling very confused. Little did he know that he was in the process of becoming a man.
Daniel and John left early in the morning. It was Sunday, so there was no school for Hazel's older brother. She sat at home, reading like she usually did. There was not much else for her to do, and Daniel had told her to practice whenever she could. She was really becoming quite good at it.
The shoe fitted perfectly, and Cinderella and her prince lived happily ever after, Hazel read. She closed the fairytale book with a sigh. She felt tired. For a minute she wondered if she should try to sleep, but then again, she almost did nothing but that. She knew that Doctor Tate had told her to rest, but it really couldn't be healthy to rest that much!
She moved to get out of bed and fetch another fairytale book, but she stopped in her tracks. Something was off. Hazel was all too familiar with this feeling.
The small girl reached for her inhaler; Daniel had filled it with hot water before he went to the studio with their father. She brought a hand to her chest, taking some deep breaths like her brother had told her to. It didn't help.
Something within her stung, and she grasped tightly onto her nightgown. It felt like something was twitching her heart, clutching it tightly, keeping it from beating. Hazel got tears in her eyes. Daniel wasn't home. The fear was crippling. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't breathe. This was when she started to cough, her throat sore and her lungs bleeding. She threw the inhaler on her bed and put a hand over her mouth. The hand was soon covered in red slime.
Hazel knew that she had to do something herself. She couldn't rely on Daniel now. She managed to get out of her bed and fell on her knees to the floor. She reached for the box of laudanum. At least this seizure didn't feel as painful as many others, she had had. She grabbed a bottle and reached for the cloth that hung on her bedpost. Daniel had told her that if there wasn't time to fetch a spoon, this method would be much more effective.
The liquid soaked the cloth, and she immediately brought it to her mouth and nose. She tried breathing in heavily through the coughing, but she found that it didn't work. She panicked and put even more laudanum on it, desperately trying to seize the pain. The stench of the medicine was very strong. She brought the cloth to her face again, and almost immediately she felt dizzy.
Hazel got up on her feet with more than a little difficulty and lay down on the bed again. The room was spinning. She didn't notice the sting in her chest any more. It only took a couple of seconds, then she was out.
Hours had passed since morning, but apparently there was to be no sun today. The sky was grey with clouds, so Daniel guessed there was no point in wishing to be anywhere else but the studio. He turned his attention from the birds flying outside the window to what his father was preparing. Wood lay scattered on the floor; Daniel were to turn them into a table with the help of John.
"So you see, son," John said, "Woodcarving is not an easy task. It requires the finest and most delicate strokes of precision, else you are bound to fail. One slip and the whole furniture is ruined! Understand?"
Daniel nodded. Even if he hadn't been as aggressive or violent in a long while; when it came to John Wilkinson, the better choice would always be to nod, no matter what.
"Good," the man continued, picking up some pieces of wood, "Now, I'd like you to grind these four pieces into shape; they're going to contribute as table legs. Afterwards, I will show you how to handle the carving." There was no objection from Daniel's side. He just accepted the wood and went to grind them as he was told.
John seemed to think that being Daniel's mentor was the best idea his son had ever gotten. Though the man never got excited, there was a significant change in his behaviour. He taught Daniel how to carve, build and assemble different kinds of furniture and tools. Daniel shouldn't only be helping out in the studio any more, he now had as much responsibility for creating products as his father.
Daniel didn't mind. He hadn't initially thought that spending more time with his father would be the very ideal occupation for him, but it had turned out to be about so much more than acquiring the necessary experience to build Henry's clubhouse. He tried not to be too obvious about it, but he was optimistic. Especially when he carved his first table leg without fault, and he received an acknowledgeable nod from his father with a spark in his eyes, he'd never seen before – or maybe he just didn't notice. This was the reason why Daniel finally mustered the courage to talk to his father.
John measured the table legs to make sure they were of equal length. Daniel observed him; his expression was very concentrated. "Father?"
He responded with a hum. Daniel felt his palms become sweaty. "Some... Something strange happened to me last night," he said with a meek voice.
John gave Daniel a suspicious look. "What?"
Daniel took a breath. He wished that his father would continue to be fixated on the table legs. "I… I woke up… And I thought… Perhaps…"
"Speak up, son, we didn't come here to chitchat," John said. He placed his large hand on the work desk.
The young boy suddenly didn't feel so confident any more. He looked at his feet and mumbled, "Never mind."
John didn't move. He kept gazing at his son for a short while. Daniel couldn't bring himself to look into those drab eyes. "What's the matter, Daniel? Is it your sister again?" John urged. His tone didn't seem friendly or worried, but not annoyed or impatient either.
Daniel shook his head. "No. No, it was just me."
John raised an eyebrow. "Elaborate."
The boy looked up at his father again. He hesitated shortly, then he confessed, "I-it seems that I wetted my bed last night."
Daniel prepared himself for a slap that didn't come. His father merely stared at him in disbelief. Normally John would have carried out a punishment for such a juvenile act, even if it was just an accident – but John had not been drinking today. There was nothing reassuring about what he said next, though. "You what?"
Daniel panicked. "But it was not really what happened! I mean, it didn't smell or feel that way!" John kept staring. Daniel could practically hear his brain working, processing what he had said. He swallowed and continued, "You know that I haven't had such problems since I was a toddler, Father! It couldn't have been that! I am genuinely confused!"
John stood up straight, suddenly seeming to be lost in his own thoughts. Then something completely insane happened. He started laughing.
Daniel stared at the man before him. Was it really the same person? The man, whom he had known to be a drunk violent hothead throughout the majority of his life. Could it really be that same man that stood in front of him, laughing as if there was no tomorrow?
Eventually John's laughter subsided and he patted his son's shoulder. Daniel still felt wildly uncomfortable, and a bit annoyed with how hilarious his father apparently thought he was. "Thanks, son," John said and nodded, "I haven't heard anything as funny for a long time."
Daniel crossed his arms. "Well, I'm glad that at least you find it amusing."
John gestured to a chair while he himself sat down on the bench, "Sit. We need to talk."
Daniel sat down and had a long talk with his father. He finally understood the changes that were to come, and he asked a few questions – just a few, for he didn't dare push his luck. He had never had such an intimate conversation with anyone, and John was the last one he'd ever thought he would talk to about this, although he knew his father had an extensive knowledge on the subject. In spite of the nagging feeling poking at him within, it really was the best day he had ever spent with him. Maybe he wasn't actually so bad a dad.
"Hazel? Are you awake?"
Hazel opened one eye. Her head felt as heavy as lead. Her vision was blurred, but she managed to make out the person hovering over her. "Daniel?" she said with a groggy voice. She felt like she had slept for longer than Sleeping Beauty.
"I made dinner," Daniel said and caressed her hair, "And... You won't believe what happened today."
Hazel turned to gaze out the window. It was completely dark outside. Could it really be that she had slept the whole day? "What time is it?"
"I'm sorry we're so late," Daniel said. She hadn't noticed that he whispered until now. "Dad has gone to bed. He was very tired. We just got home."
Hazel sat up, but she felt very dizzy. Her body felt like it was still sleeping. "Is it already 10 o'clock?"
"It has passed midnight, Hazel," Daniel said apologetically, "We didn't notice the time."
She nodded slowly. She wanted to lie down and sleep again, but Daniel insisted that she ate something. Her brother seemed uplifted, though he didn't directly admit it. He blabbered on about how different John was acting all of a sudden. He told Hazel that he finally felt useful in their father's eyes. Finally he could do something right.
Hazel nodded with a small smile, unable to really eat anything. But she didn't want Daniel's food to go to waste, so she did her best to keep it down. Daniel was happier today than he had been in a long time, and she didn't want to ruin his good mood. So she didn't tell him about the seizure.
It seemed that Daniel and John weren't the only ones who were starting to get along.
Hazel was sleeping again, so Daniel thought it would be a good time to read Serena's letter. He never read it while his younger sister was awake, for he didn't like telling her that it was private and that she couldn't read along with him. He sat down on his bed and unfolded the piece of paper.
My dear Daniel,
Even though my schooling is still very awful, I have hope now. A terrible event happened not too long ago, which made the professors and my parents realise that I am simply too mature to walk amongst children younger than me. You do remember I told you I started school one year late, right? Now my parents are going to make up for that! After the summer vacation, I am going to move up a class. I will be able to be around children my own age! I am so excited!
Furthermore, my mother is starting to give me a lot more attention. She was so excited this autumn, because I finally reached my womanhood, though I am not completely sure what that means. I do not consider myself a woman yet. Even though I was disturbed by the incident that caused my sudden transition, I am happy to see Mother this overjoyed. Maybe I am not a disappointment after all!
My governess is much more strict now. I cannot go anywhere without her breathing down my neck! It is not like I am going to run off or anything. She even goes with me when I am going to meet Miss Mary. It is such a headache. I fear I might not be able to get her off my back this summer, but I will find a way so do not worry, Daniel.
I feel like a lot is changing. I have gotten my very first corset! I feel really pretty, though it is very restrictive. I cannot move as freely as I used to, so we won't be able to play any of our games. We do not really do that any more, anyway. We are too old for that now, don't you agree?
I am glad that you and your father have gotten a better relationship. I think it was about time. Perhaps he will finally pull himself together. I really do wish the best for you and Hazel. I hope to meet her one day when she feels better and is able to walk outside the house.
I cannot wait to see you, Daniel. I miss you.
See you soon,
Serena da Silva
There was no need for a reply. Daniel folded the letter again and looked out the window. Things were seeming to get better – also for his best friend. He felt warm inside. Serena had reached womanhood now, just as he was becoming a man. The thought of that tingled deep in his stomach. It was the time of change. He really looked forward to the summer.
John never celebrated his birthday, nor others'. This was the reason why Daniel only cared to celebrate Hazel – and then meet up with Serena when it was his own special day – but he felt now that he couldn't just ignore his father's birthday any more. They had spent time together. They had talked. Even if John himself didn't care, Daniel did.
He had spent time using some of his mother's old tailoring tools. Hazel had heartily helped with deciding what they were to give him. They had helped each other with wrapping the gift, and now they just waited for their father to return home.
The whole day John didn't show up. Daniel felt kind of disappointed. He had put effort into making his father the perfect gift, yet he didn't even come home to receive it. One couldn't really blame him, though, as Daniel and Hazel usually didn't do anything for him, but it would have been the perfect surprise. Instead they were left waiting for him.
The sun had set a couple of hours ago. Hazel sat up in the couch, wrapped in her blanket. Daniel had dragged a chair to the coffee table, and now the siblings were in the midst of a game of Old Maid – and Daniel was losing.
"Don't be a sore loser, Danny!" Hazel reprimanded, though giggling all the while.
Daniel pursed his lips. "I'm not! But I saw that you changed the cards! I'm not making this up!"
That was when the front door opened. The siblings fell silent and looked up. John walked in doing something, his children had never witnessed him do before; humming. The man was singing a happy melody of a song that Daniel and Hazel didn't know. They both stared at him.
John went to kick off his boots and took his coat off. He actually hung it on the coat stand this time, instead of just throwing it onto the floor. What was even more weird, he didn't smell. The awful stench of liquor didn't follow him like it usually did. John obviously had not been in the studio drinking. "Are you all right, Father?" Daniel said with wide eyes.
John stopped and looked at his children. "Yes," he said, "Actually, I feel quite excellent." He gestured with his arms.
Daniel and Hazel sent each other a look of amazement. Hazel was the next one to say something. "Happy birthday, Dad."
John looked at Hazel and nodded. "Thank you, Hazel."
Hazel was so stunned, her mouth fell open. That was the first time John had ever addressed Hazel by her name. The first time he had actually recognized her presence. She looked at Daniel, unable to hide her joy. Also Daniel was pleasantly surprised. "Father," he said and stood up, "Hazel and I have made a present for you."
"Is that so?" John said and raised his eyebrows. His face remained expressionless, but it was a great improvement nonetheless. Daniel ran into his room to fetch the small parcel. It only took a minute before John was sitting in the couch with each of his children by his side and unravelling the gift.
John eyed the item. It was a lovely cravat made out of silk. Daniel had spent his own money on the fabric. He turned towards Daniel. "Did you make this?"
Daniel nodded nervously. He knew how much his father had loathed it whenever he had helped his mother out with her tailoring back when she was alive. He had always said that it was not a man's occupation. John examined the tie. Hazel sent Daniel a questioning look, and Daniel merely shrugged in response. After a while John finally spoke, "Good job."
He stood up and ascended the stairs to his bedroom. Hazel looked at Daniel again. He was smiling proudly. Suddenly it didn't seem as such a bad thing that their father had returned home late. No matter what he had been doing the whole day, it had certainly changed his attitude a lot. John himself was becoming a new man.