Hi, my dear readers!
Sorry for the delay – again! – but it is like every year before Christmas: Time seems to run quicker than usual and neither my dear beta-reader Cheetah, nor I found enough time to edit the chapter sooner. I hope, it worths the waiting.
Thank you for the feedback. And for everyone, who is curious how poor Smee copes with London of 1909 or how his first meeting with Mrs. Darling will run, will love the next chapter. There will be some sweet, but also funny scenes…
Have fun
Yours Lywhn / Starflight
Chapter 44 – Homecoming
The boys had gathered their belongings and passed through the cannon deck when Dark Owl approached. He looked uneasy. John waved the others ahead, then waited for his blood brother to speak.
"Three Strengths must leave the ship."
John smiled. "Only for tonight. We must let our parents know what happened so they can help save Peter and get Wendy away from that raider and murderer." He lay a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You'll do fine. Nibs will stay here, and Billy Jukes is a rather pleasant lad. Watch them for any cues you need, or turn to Hook. As crazy as it sounds, but I think he's really changed since he fell in love with my sister. This is probably what he was like before he came to Neverland."
Dark Owl sighed and glanced out an opening. "This village … so large and strange. Only stony tepees, no trees, no bushes, no plants. How can men live here?"
"A good question," John admitted. "But you've only seen the industrial side; London also has its bright and pleasant areas. Large parks, beautiful wide lanes, tan and white buildings… Here in the port – the docklands – are the poor boroughs. People come here to work, but they live …" He stopped, then he took a deep breath. "Well, I must admit, the poor people live around here, too. Only those, who have a filled purse or greater status live in the pretty parts." Dark Owl nodded slowly, watching John with his deep brown eyes, which told him more than anything else. "I know, it's not fair," he mumbled. "But this is how our world works."
"Everyone has the right to live where it is best for them. Our sister creation Nature is there for all people, but the chiefs and warriors of your people set aside those who work for them, banishing them to the crowded places." He shook his head. "Dark Owl doesn't understand the white men."
John felt exposed beneath his perceptive gaze, but he held on. "Like I said, the world here – the Outer World, as the fairies call it – is not fair, but it works. Somehow. There are many now with influence who work to change the living conditions of the poor, but it's a long process. At least, something is being done."
Dark Owl perceived what his blood brother meant, and nodded again. Then he straightened. "Three Strengths returns tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Then go. May the Great Spirit watch over you." He held out his hand.
John took it, then he pulled his friend into a quick, tight embrace before he followed the other boys to the main deck. Glancing at Nibs, he murmured, "Keep an eye on Dark Owl. Everything here is unfamiliar."
The other nodded. "Don't worry, I'll stay with him." Clapping his adoptive brother on the shoulder he watched him and the others go. And catching Smee's unhappy expression as he followed the boys down the gangway, he had to grin. "I see Dark Owl isn't the only one facing the unfamiliar here."
*** PP ***
There is a legend that pirates fear nothing. They did what they had to do, 'come hell or high water.' Legends were wonderful things, but most of the time life looked different – at least in the case of Bryan Smee. He had faced Blackbeard and Red Ned, he had survived battles at sea, dozens (hundreds?) of encounters with Hook's volatile temper. He'd faced a dark wizard and innumerable evil creatures that had been summoned. He'd even faced a dragon for his captain. But they were all calculated 'knowns.' He was terrified of facing 'modern London' by himself, with only this gang of young delinquents as guides; who would probably not hesitate to place him in any number of uncomfortable (not to say dangerous) situations – in fun – because of his lack of knowledge.
They left the docks through a wide gate that was supported by two large elephants made of stone; symbolizing the goods which were imported and stored in this dock: Ivory. They crossed a street that led left to the giant bridge, then toward the Tower of London. They rounded Tower Hill at its north and walked crossed the Trinity Square with its small but beautiful park and the Trinity House. The most prominent building – Number 10 that would hold the new Port of London Authority – would be built three years later.
The birds crying above him distracted Smee from the impressive surroundings, and he warily watched the many Tower ravens soaring above him in the evening wind. In Eire, ravens had a different meaning than here. They were harbingers of death – the reason that Banshees were usually depicted as young women with raven feathers or even black wings.
But if he thought the death fairies' birds were eerie, then he soon shook that off. What the boys called 'traffic' was just too strange and new to accept! Those horseless carriages, which smelled awful and made a lot of noise, mixed with traditional coaches and cabs with horses filled the streets. Then there were huge, tall vehicles with a steep, circular stair along the outside to allow people to … ride on the roof! "That's an omnibus," Curly told him as the bosun gaped at the first of these monstrosities. And not everything that rolled had a 'motor' – whatever that was – or was pulled by a horse. He saw people sitting on a tiny saddle that was between two wheels in tandem; giving the thing the appearance of oversized spectacles with no earpieces. The men and women on them pushed pedals with their feet that seemed to drive a chain that connected to the wheels, sending it forward.
"That's a bicycle – or 'bike'," Tootles contributed when Smee jumped aside as one sped by. "Very popular now."
Staggered, he could only nod while he looked around. He knew he looked the fool, but – really! – he came from the 17th century! How should he react to all these modern … shenanigans?
Slightly and John did their best to explain everything to him, and soon his mind was buzzing again with all the information. And then the moment approached in which good old Smee nearly turned back.
They reached the corner of the Mark Lane that branched behind the square from the Great Tower Street, and went straight to a house made of red bricks, where the word 'Underground – Mark Lane' stood above the doors. The boys entered and stopped at a window inside the house where they bought little scraps of papers with something printed on them. A few men and women did the same. "Come on, Smee," Tootles smiled at him and cautiously he followed the boys along a hallway that split off. At one entrance was the sign with the label 'north – King's Cross' and the other one was named 'west – Westminster'. Taking the latter one, they descended a wide stair. And a dozen people and more followed them, chattering quite normally. Some of them held a larger sheet of paper on which he could see lines and bows with dots and scripts beside them, which reminded him of a map. Well, it was a map – that of the Underground that had been printed for the first time last year to make it easier for the thousands of visitors to get to their destinations during the Olympic Games in London.
Then Smee heard a rumbling from afar that seemed to come nearer. "Wha' in blazes …" He whispered and stopped dead in the middle of the stairway.
"Come on, Smee, or we'll miss the Tube," Slightly urged, quickening his steps.
Smee scratched his head. "Tube? Be tha' a bath house?" He was confused. Who, for God's sake, built a bath house beneath ground level? And what was that gawdawful rumbling?
Grinning, Michael took the Irishman's hand into his smaller one, "It's called the Tube – a nickname – but it's a railway."
Smee's eyes widened as he remembered that the boys had mentioned 'the Tube' during the 'history lesson' last night. "That thing made of many coaches that goes under the earth?" he asked, feeling his heart quickening and goosebumps crawl over his back.
"Yes, the Underground railway," Tootles nodded. "Hurry up! Or it'll be another twenty minutes before the next one comes."
The rumbling got louder, accompanied by an increasing vibration in the ground. Dragons?! Reaching the illuminated part of the tunnel with a pavement along a lower and wider gutter – the same as the other side – Smee gasped as two glowing eyes appeared in the tunnel ahead. An enormous dragon! Then his jaw almost hit the floor as he saw a large brown 'monster' rush out of the darkness, approach the two pavements and slowed down; screeching like a dozen Banshees. The sectioned beast was made of metal plates that looked like those on the new, modern ships he had seen that day. Smee was too appalled to even see the man standing inside, above the "eyes," behind a window, nor the people seated in the coaches behind the first segment, rising as the ungodly beastie stopped.
"Come on," Slightly and John said in unison.
What? He should climb into the stomach of that dreadful metal creature? No! He was a pirate – not a suicide! "Wit'out me!" he rasped.
"Smee…" Tootles began, but the bosun shook his head wildly, nearly losing his hat.
"Nay, nay, an' once again nay! No' ten horses could get me into tha' monster!"
"But Hook ordered you to-" Slightly started to say.
"Th' capt'n can order me aroun' all 'e wants, but t'is is TOO MUCH!" Smee had closed his eyes, now shaking where he stood.
A few passengers around them realized what was going on and shook their heads quietly. "What's the matter?" one passenger wanted to know.
"That old man over there is afraid of the Tube," another man responded.
"Irish, given his accent. Oh my, these country people. They have such a long way to go," a woman sighed.
Michael still held the man's hand in his own, and turned to face him. "Mr. Smee, I know this is really scary, but I will be next to you the whole way." Smee's let one eye open, taking in the smaller boy. "Keep your eyes on me, and I promise, we will come out at the end of our journey safe and sound."
Smee had always liked Michael. The impish young boy reminded him of himself, red hair and all. Now this freckled youngster was asking him, Bryan Francis Smee, to trust him and follow him "into the dragon's mouth." Knowing there was no time for philosophizing, he looked Michael straight in the eyes. The boy nodded slowly then, without taking his eyes off Smee's, allowed the others to lead them onto the train. A couple of other passengers saw what was happening, and politely vacated a bench near the door, perhaps remembering their own first trips on the Tube. Michael led the older man to the nearest seat and sat down with him, the others sat around them, a couple put their hands reassuringly on his shoulders. "Cheer up, Smee," Tootles smiled. "Now you've conquered something that Hook never had to!"
"I don't want to imagine him sitting here just right now," Twin 1 giggled.
"He certainly would be more afraid than you," Twin 2 nodded.
'He wouldn't,' John thought, who sat down on the opposite side together with Slightly. 'But nice try.'
"I-I-I-I d-d-d-don't care ab-b-b-boot a new experience n' m-m-more," Bryan stuttered. "I wanna be back at th' shiiiiip." The last word was drowned out by a shrill whistle and a jolt went through the train – Smee paled even more – and then it began to move. Horrified, Bryan looked to the window and saw how the lights were left behind and changed into darkness, only interrupted occasionally by a few lamps. They were driving beneath earth in a tunnel! And, this much he realized, very fast. No, even a journey beneath the volcano 'Mount-of-no-Return' in Neverland hadn't freaked him out like this!
John felt a strong sympathy for the boatswain. This had to be terrifying. He placed a hand on the Irishman's tight, icy fists holding fast to Michael's smaller ones. "Smee, believe me, this is nothing to be afraid of. I know, it's new for you, but the Tube is the safest manner of travel in London," he said calmly.
Smee only gulped. He believed John in his head when he told him that this safe, but his emotions were roiling around, drowning out his good sense. Suddenly the metal 'worm' slowed down. "Are we there?" he asked hoarsely.
To his dismay, the boys shook their heads. "No, there are four more stations, then we'll to change station and trains." Slightly said.
Smee didn't even want to know what the boy meant, but simply sat unmoving on the bench, hoping that this would be over quickly. Michael tapped Smee on the arm, and when the man looked up, he held up four fingers, inviting Smee to keep track of the next stops they had to make. So, for the next four stops, Smee watched Michael's fingers go down one by one.
The Tube travelled almost parallel to the Thames towards the west, passed four stations and at the fifth the boys left the train. Smee was very pale but felt more like himself the moment they stepped out onto the street. With a deep breath, he looked backwards at the building they'd just left, and he saw that it was located near the river, and it was called 'Temple Station.'
They now crossed the street and went down a narrower road where the next station was located; Smee on their heels. They reached the next large street – The Strand – and crossed it. To the left was Somerset House, a palace in its own right; to the right was another large, impressive house. As Smee asked about it, John raised an eyebrow, "Be happy if you never see the inside. It's the 'High Courts of Justice', a part of the English Tribunal."
They reached another tall house at the junction point of The Strand and Surrey Streets. It was made of white stones and red bricks. An arched window was above the wide entrance, where Smee could read 'Piccadilly Rly. – Strand-Station.' Knowing that they were about to descend into another one of those 'tubes', Smee groaned but followed them, praying to Saint Brendan, Saint Patrick, Saint Christopher and the Virgin her blessed self for the first time in decades and crossing himself before accepting his fate. He had survived the first 'tube', his chances for surviving the second were certainly better than he'd thought before. And it would be shorter – hopefully!
Only five minutes after stepping into the next train under the earth, they already left the 'metal worm' again and went upstairs. Smee felt true relief as he saw homes (single ones or built in rows), paved streets with lanterns, pretty front gardens with the first crocuses coaxed from the soil through the snow, and a small park to his right. This was a district that looked far more familiar than anything else he had seen so far.
"Welcome to Bloomsbury," John said with a smile, while they crossed the newly built and only wider street in this borough, Kingsway. "We live not far away from here." And he was right. Walking into another smaller street and turning left and then right again, they headed towards a corner house.
Several levels high, made of brick with white trim, it looked cozy – just like the home Smee had imagined Miss Wendy and her brothers growing up in. One of these motorcars stood at the pavement in front of it, and as he saw how the boys exchanged excited glances, he felt a smile tugging at his mouth, while his nervousness leaked out of him bit by bit. But only briefly, then he remembered that soon he would face the storyteller's and the boys' parents. Looking down on himself he became painfully aware of his old, wide trousers, the weathered boots and the shabby jacket he wore. His scarf had a few moth holes and his hat certainly had seen better days. He sighed inwardly. Well, you couldn't look like you just came from a tailor after serving aboard a pirate ship and living in Neverland for so long.
John hopped up the stairs to the entrance door and pushed a button beside it. A bell sounded in the inside, followed by the deep barking of a dog.
"Nana!" Michael hollered happily. "Nana, it's us!"
A moment later, the lock snapped and the door was opened. A very tiny young woman, wearing a black dress with a white apron and a laced white headcap, stood on the threshold – eyes big, mouth agape. But only for an instant, then she whirled around and screamed, "Ma'am, come quick! The boys are back!"
The barking got louder and then a large white and brown dog, wearing a laced headcap, too, shot out of the door. She almost knocked John from his feet. He laughed, then, with tail-wagging, she dashed down the steps and ran Michael over, licking his face despite his protest. The other boys laughed loudly, and Smee had to chuckle. What a sight: The happy boys, young Michael on the ground who tried to defend himself against the great dog's kisses, and a dog half out of her mind with joy. His big Irish heart absorbed the scene in front of him, and his joy showed in the broad smile on his face.
Then someone else appeared at the door and when he looked up, he felt his breath catch in his throat. There stood the finest, most beautiful lady he ever had laid eyes on. He knew instantly this had to be Mrs. Darling – Wendy's mother. Her daughter had the same eyes and sweet face, only this lady's heart-shaped face was firmer, more mature, and her eyes were green-grey with a brown hue in them. And just this moment they were filling with tears – tears of relief.
John took up his cap and stood before her. "Mother," he simply said, and she pulled him into a strong embrace. Holding the boy, now almost her size, she showered his face with kisses despite his spectacles. "You're back," she stammered, then glanced at the other boys. "You're all back!" A sob escaped her, while the tiny maid moved to pull the dog away from Michael.
"Stop, Nana! Leave him! Let the poor boy breathe!" Whining, then barking again, the dog obeyed, but wagging her whole body along with her tail.
"I hate it when she does that!" Michael groaned. "Now the first thing I have to do is wash!"
The maid giggled. "When I look at you all, I think we should fill any tub we can find and put you all into them – including your clothes!"
Curly and Tootles were embraced by Mrs. Darling, too, and now the Twins clung to her, before she pulled Slightly to her with a hearty "Robert! Thank God and all the angels! Millicent will be so happy when she learns that you're back and well."
Michael, who had wiped his face on his sleeve, sank against his mother's side and closed his eyes. "Home again!" he announced; realizing only now how glad he was to be back in London.
Mary kissed the top of his head and held him close, so happy to have her youngest close. "How is this possible?" she whispered, while tears of sheer happiness rolled down her lovely cheeks. "Viscount Ashford only planned to return to Neverland on Wednesday -"
John spoke up. "It wasn't the viscount who brought us back, Mother," he said with some disdain on his face and in his voice. He took a deep breath. "Captain Hook brought us home."
Still holding Michael, Mary turned to her elder son. "Captain Hook?" she asked in surprise. "But … Viscount Ashford said the captain was killed by a ricochet -"
"Is tha' wha' tha' lyin' bastard tol' ya?" A new voice came to her from the pavement, and looking there, Mary's eyes came to rest on a small, round greybearded sailor with spectacles, red cheeks, nose and hat, and clad in clothes not seen in centuries.
John now spoke again, clearing his throat. "Mother? May I introduce Mr. Smee?"
Mary gaped first at John, then at the bosun. "Oh my," she breathed. It was the first time that she met someone from Neverland except for the Lost Boys. Of course she had known that the island and the people Wendy and the boys spoke of really existed, but meeting someone from this far away fairy realm on her front step took her breath away. He was proof of how close Neverland was – that it was, indeed, a part of her world.
Smee took off his hat and then his knitted cap, approaching this glorious creature. Remembering his upbringing and the good manners Hook always displayed towards a woman, he bowed. "Good evenin', Mum," he said. "Bryan Francis Smee's m' name."
Mary looked at him in wonder. He looked exactly as Wendy had drawn him in her books, and she suddenly realized that a true pirate stood before her. Well, an old true pirate with a kind smile and gentle eyes. No wonder that the boys had spoken of him fondly.
"Good evening, Mr. Smee," she replied, still holding her youngest close to her. She hesitated a moment, then added, "Would you come in? It's cold and I'm sure a cup of tea would be welcome."
Bryan smiled almost happily at her. "A cuppa would be heavenly, Mum. I'm not used t' t'is weather n' more." She heard the accent.
Liza gave her mistress a wary glance. "He's a pirate," she whispered.
"Aye, and a friend!" Michael said before moving back from his mother's embrace. "Excuse me, Mother, I have to wash – thanks to you," he said to Nana, who only growled playfully and still wagged her tail.
Smee drew nearer, feeling something cold and wet at his hand. He looked at the dog. "Hey, lass," he said softly and offered her his fingers so that she could smell him. "Good dog," he cooed; brown eyes warm.
"You like dogs?" Mary asked curiously.
"Aye, Mum. When I was li'l we 'ad dogs at 'ome, too." He scratched behind her ears. Promptly, the Darling pet sat down and cocked her head; obviously enjoying the attention.
For Mrs. Darling, the dog's reaction was the signal that the man in front of her had no evil intent. "Please, come in," she said and turned to enter the house; Smee, a wary Liza and a still happy Nana followed her. Then she noticed that one of the boys was missing. "Where is Ethan?" she wanted to know.
"Nibs is still aboard the Jolly Roger. Hook still needs help with all the new formalities, the machinery at the docks and adjusting to our century," John told her. Then he frowned. "Mother, where is Father?" he asked while he hung his jacket and cap on the coat rack, the other boys following his example.
"He left this afternoon for a business trip to Liverpool, together with Sir Edward," Mary replied, still wondering at the crowd in the entranceway. "He said he will telephone when he checks in at the hotel. He'll be so glad that you're all back," she whispered; eyes glistening again. "We didn't dare hope that you would come back before Viscount Ashford could get you away from Neverland." She saw how the faces of the boys became dark at the mention of the young man. "I know," she added quickly, "Peter Pan could have taken you back, but -"
"Peter wouldn't be able to," Slightly rose to speak; clear eyes narrowed. "Because he isn't in Neverland anymore. Ashford kidnapped him – just like he kidnapped Wendy!"
Mary and Liza turned to face him. "What?" Mrs. Darling looked with wide eyes at Slightly, then at John, who snarled,
"Viscount Ashford came to Neverland and left a track of carnage, blood and death behind him. He chased buffalo through Tiger Lily's village. The panicking beasts killed people and destroyed the tents what started a wildfire. As we all fought that fire, he invaded the Jolly Roger, kidnapped Wendy and locked six of the crew up in the hold and set the ship on fire, too – promising them a horrible death."
"Luckily Esteban, the ship's spirit bogey, got them out before they were burned alive," Tootles added, seeing her pallor.
"After that, Ashford and his men killed dozens of fairies, pixies, gnomes and bogeys who came to rescue Peter and Wendy," John continued, face hard and voice sharp.
"To … their rescue?" Mary whispered, feeling her heart sinking. The shooting the viscount mentioned. It must have been more serious than he said.
"One of his men took Peter hostage and threatened to cut his throat, if Hook and the others didn't retreat. Then they forced him through the portal along with Wendy, who had been sedated!" John continued. "And worst of all, Ashford took his pistol and shot Hook directly in the heart from a few yards away – in cold blood!"
"It was murder, pure and simple. But only an attempt," Slightly inserted.
"Ashford and his men had already hunted Hook and Wendy the evening before, they were even shooting at them," Curly added. "If not for Peter, they would have killed the two of them – or at least the captain."
"They could have shot Wendy, too," Slightly added. "They didn't quit firing at them even as Hook and Wendy climbed aboard a longboat. Ashford's men only stopped firing when Wendy positioned herself in front of Hook."
"Wendy did what?" Mrs. Darling asked, trembling.
"Yeah, she's really crazy when it comes to Hook," Twin 1 said with a sigh.
"Peter told us that Hook was really angry because of the risk Wendy took for him," Twin 2 nodded.
"They had an argument. Peter told us about everything after he came back to the hideout." John sighed. "I really would have loved to be a fly at the wall at those moments."
The lady of the house had her hand at her throat, "But … I don't understand. The viscount's men fired at Captain Hook while Wendy was with him? They could have hit her. Why didn't the viscount interfere?"
"Oh, he tried to, but as it seems his men didn't listen so well," Slightly said wryly.
Mary shook her head. "But he followed Wendy and you all because you were in danger from the dragons and because he is in love with her -"
"In love?" John spat, interrupting his mother. "I'm sure he doesn't know the meaning of the word, let alone the feeling. He wanted her back because he doesn't like to lose – and he'd already lost her."
"To Hook of all people," Twin 1 piped up again.
"Hook is the last descendant of the family the Ashfords once brought into discredit by lying about them. Hook's brothers and father were accused of high treachery and executed. As a reward the Ashfords got the manor taken from Hook's family," Twin 2 said angrily.
Mary her head spinning. "And … what about Captain Hook now?" She looked at Smee. "The viscount said that your captain was killed by a misfired bullet from his own men -"
"It wasn't one of us, Mum, but a clear shot from th' viscount, just like John said. An' the bullet hit home," Smee said softly. "Th' capt'n fell – we all saw it. We all t'ought 'im dead."
"Peter screamed in shock," Tootles sadly threw in. "He'd never admit it, but he's attached to Hook."
"I saw it on his face," Slightly added. "He was in shock and screamed while one hunter threw him over his shoulder and carried him away like a sack of flour."
Curly snorted. "And one of the other men slapped him and demanded he shut up!"
Mrs. Darling felt a wave of compassion for the boy who saw his friend murdered, and a rising outrage at the young man's behavior. Yet she was also confounded. "But … how is Captain Hook still alive?"
"Th' bullet hit th' dragon scale Miss Wendy gave 'im an' it protected 'im. 'Er thimble saved 'is life," Smee murmured.
A thimble … Mary knew about Wendy and her thimble and the acorn. Closing her eyes in relief, she took a deep breath. "Thank You, Lord," she murmured. "The viscount told George and me that Wendy was emotionally beside herself when she learned of the captain's death. He even said he called his personal doctor who checked her thoroughly. When George and I were in the manor yesterday, he said she was still asleep because of the calming draught the doctor gave her."
"Calming draught?" Curly snorted. "More likely that they sedated her so that she couldn't tell you and Father what really happened in Neverland."
Mary took a deep breath. Then, she became the Darling wife and mother: She took matters into her hands. "All right," she said firmly. "It appears that my misgivings regarding Viscount Ashford's story were appropriate. And I want to know exactly what happened." She looked over the boys and their bearded guest. "Everyone wash hands and faces, then we will all sit at table and you can tell me the entire story." She looked at the maid. "Liza, I know the rest of the roast lamb won't be enough for all, but perhaps -"
"I'll do some kitchen magic and conjure up a nice dinner for all of us. I already baked the hen for tomorrow. I heat it up and make chicken soup for us all. Afterwards there will be cold cuts from the lamb with bread, some fruit compote, and as dessert I'll make a cheeseboard with toast. How does that sound?"
The group of males erupted in cheers, then the boys ran upstairs clean hands and faces. Smee looked fondly after them, but was interrupted by Liza, taking his jacket. "Give it to me, sir, I'll hang it up." Then she took his hat and the cap from his hands. "The same for these. You can follow me into the kitchen to wash up."
"Thankee, miss," the bosun said with a bob of his head. He refreshed himself with the soap and warm water, now feeling much more at ease – even if he asked himself how the water supply worked. Mary invited him into the dining room. "Please follow me, Mr. Smee," she said quietly.
*** PP ***
Two hours later dinner was over – and the questioning of Mrs. Darling. She was shocked – outraged! – as she learned about the performance of the viscount and his men in Neverland. Several things sounded too exaggerated, too brutal to be true of a young "nobleman," but she trusted the boys. They might let themselves get carried away on occasion – especially when sports were involved – but they never lied. And this time it was clear that they were deadly serious, and so the tender woman believed them, Smee nodding in confirmation the whole time. She believed them enough to realize that a) they had to get Wendy home as quickly as possible and that b) they had to help this boy, Peter Pan.
"I will drive to Ashford Manor tomorrow and pick up my daughter. And woe to the viscount if he tries to stop me!" she said firmly.
"Mum, let th' cap'n handle t'is," Smee said.
"And what if the viscount shoots at him again?" Liza asked, who was now clearing the table. "There is an old saying that you can't trust the same luck twice."
"She's right," John added. "And how will Hook get to the manor? He's a stranger to this world just like you are," he asked Smee.
"Which also begs the question, Mr. Smee, how do you get back to your ship?" Mary asked. She saw the uncertainty on the old man's face. "The Tube still runs until midnight, but-"
"Ach please, no 'tube' again," Bryan moaned. "Tha' metal worm can go t' hell fer all I care!"
"Smee is a bit … unsettled by today's travel possibilities," Michael grinned.
Two sharp rings interrupted them. Smee nearly jerked to his feet, eyes wide. Mary rose quickly, the boys less gracefully. "Excuse me," Mrs. Darling said to the confused bosun and went out to the hallway. The boys followed with a "That has to be Father!" - "Yeah!" –"We gotta talk with him!"
Mary reached the phone first, but before she took the receiver, she pointed a stern finger at the boys. "Not one word about Mr. Smee's presence here! Your father will only hear 'pirate' and think 'danger,' and we can't have him dashing back home and ignoring the important job he's attending to!"
Smee stared at the odd box on the wall. "Wha's that? A fire alarm?" he asked as it rang loudly again.
"No, it's a telephone. We told you and Hook about it last night," Slightly reminded him.
"Tha' thing that sends y'r voice to far and away and back again?"
"Aye!" they all replied.
Mary shook her head. She was struck again by the fact that the old man came from a time two hundred years ago! Bracing herself for what was to come, she picked up the receiver. "Mrs. Darling in Bloomsbury, London, speaking." She listened shortly and smiled in relief. "Yes, please, send him through." Then she took a deep breath. "George?"
"Mary? I only wanted to inform you that Sir Edward and I are already at the hotel. It's the Northern Western Hotel, by Central Station." She heard him smile. "Rather a palace than a hotel," he added.
"I remember," she replied. She had seen it while visiting Liverpool with George last summer. A large building in mixture of neo-renaissance and neo-baroque, with more than 300 rooms and a lot of luxury. She would have been happy for George to enjoy a couple of nights in such a hotel, but … "I'm glad to hear that." She braced herself for next minutes and said bluntly, "George, the boys are back." She heard him taking a sharp breath, and added, "And they are well."
*** PP ***
In one of the separate rooms in the splendid hotel's lobby, George Darling stood speechless for a moment. The boys were back? Just like that? "But … the viscount was to return Wednesday!"
"George, it wasn't Ashford who brought the boys back to London. It was Captain Hook."
He needed a moment to grasp what she said. "WHO?" he gasped. "Captain Hook? But … the pirate is dead – killed accidentally by his own men!" Perhaps not accidentally – didn't the man have a bad temper? Could it have been his own crew? How was he still alive? he wondered, forgetting to breathe.
"Captain Hook brought them back," Mary repeated. "He wasn't killed. The bullet was caught by a dragon scale he wears on a chain around his neck – a bullet the viscount shot at him. Directly, and NOT in self-defense. And Wendy wasn't saved from evil dragons, George. These … creatures are peaceful and very intelligent. Our daughter even befriended a young female. Wendy was sedated and abducted by force. And that boy, Peter Pan, was kidnapped, too. The boy was held hostage and is now a captive at the manor – a child, George!"
"B-b-b-but…" George could only stutter; overwhelmed. He was glad he was alone, for if Mary had seen him, she would have been alarmed by the look on his face. He had developed enough self-confidence to stay calm as he grew older (AND with so many sons!) But now he felt his mouth going dry and his hands sweating.
*** PP ***
"May I speak with Father?" John asked, then cleared his throat to talk to his father. "Father? It's me, John." It was rare that Mr. Darling displayed strong emotion, but this time John heard his father sighing his name in obvious relief. "Father," he continued. "I know you and Sir Edward must soon go to dinner, but please hear me out. You have to know a few things." He retold the most important details as what happened in Neverland. When he finished, with several promptings from the others, his father was quiet for a few heartbeats.
"If this is true, then … then I assumed Viscount Ashford was someone he isn't. I don't know why he put on this act …"
"He stole a dragon egg," John also added. "I think that was the main reason he came to Neverland."
"A … dragon egg?" his father asked.
"Yes, a real one. The dragon parents are furious, and threaten to destroy Neverland if it isn't returned. The dragonling will soon hatch. We don't know why he needs the egg, but it has to be very important for him. And he wanted to get Wendy back. We're sure it's not because of 'undying love'. He just hates to lose; I think that was his real motivation for abducting Wendy."
He heard his father taking another deep breath. "You've made some very serious accusations, John. But I promise to confront Viscount Ashford. I'll try my best tomorrow to get the job done here and come home – even if I must take the overnight train!"
"Then we won't be able to do anything before Wednesday. But Wendy and Peter-"
Mr. Darling's voice sounded firmly through the receiver. "I want you and your brothers to do nothing concerning the viscount, do you hear me?! If this man is as ruthless as you say, you would be in danger. I will resolve this myself when I get back." He was silent for a moment, before he added more softly, "John, I am so proud of you and the others for the courage and tenacity you've shown. And I'm delighted that you and the other boys are back and well. Consider yourself hugged; I'll do it in person when I'm home. Please pass the telephone to your mother, I must speak with her."
John sighed. "All right, Father. Be well – and hurry home."
"I will, my son, I promise!"
George's eldest son handed the receiver back to his mother, who listened briefly, then replied, "Everything will be all right, George, please don't worry. – What? – Yes, if something happens, I will certainly call the hotel and leave you a message to call back. Enjoy your time with Sir Edward and have a good night, love. Bye." She hung up and stood there for a long moment; hand still on the receiver, then turned.
"All right, your father wishes that you stay at home – away from Ashford Manor and away from the pirate ship." She saw how a few of the boys began to protest and lifted her right hand. "I know you want to help your friend Peter and to get Wendy away from the manor. Indeed, your Mr. Smee became a friend and Captain Hook turned out to be a … a protector."
"But we gotta do something! We can't wait a whole day twiddling our thumbs!" John said hotly.
"He's right. Things could get worser, and-" Micheal stopped, because his mother suddenly smiled slyly.
"I only informed you about your father's wishes."
"So, not orders," Tootles interpreted.
"We're not at the military here," Mary replied, then glanced at the bosun. "Mr. Smee, did I understand you correctly that it would be difficult to find your way back to the Jolly Roger?" As the old man nodded tentatively, she set her jaw. John almost smiled, recognizing that expression. It was the same Wendy displayed when she had set her mind to something.
"Liza!" she called. "Please ready the guest room for Mr. Smee," she ordered. "He will stay tonight and I will take him back to his ship tomorrow." Her looked again at the Irishman. "That is, if I have you word that your … pirate nature doesn't creep out regarding our household."
While the boys snickered, Smee's eyes grew wide. "Mum, I'd nivver bereave me host – not t' mention our Miss Wendy's family!" He sounded offended.
"I'm glad to hear that your integrity is intact, Mr. Smee, but I suspected as much. My sons would never bring a criminal home. Tomorrow, I'll drive you to the ship and have a few words with your captain."
Smee's eyes grew to saucer size. "Y' wan' t' have a word wit' t'e capt'n? Jus' like tha'?"
Mary raised a brow. "Will that be a problem, Mr. Smee?" she asked almost sweetly, and the old man realized from whom Wendy had inherited her dogged determination. He cleared his throat. "Na, Mum, certainly no'. An' after all, ye're Miss Wendy's mot'er."
"Right," Mrs. Darling said. "And then we'll plan what to do. It's likely Captain Hook already has a plan."
"His plan will be simple," John ticked off his fingers, "go to the manor, rescue Wendy and Peter, retrieve the egg," he shrugged.
Mary again noticed the mark at the base of his thumb. She already had seen it during dinner, but now she frowned. "John, what is this on your thumb?"
John smiled, looking at the mark. "This is a kind of tattoo, made of gunpowder and ash." At her questioning gaze, he added softly, "Dark Owl wears the same mark. It was made by Great Big Little Panther, when Dark Owl and I became blood brothers."
"Blood brothers?"
It was then she heard the whole tale of John's heroic deed during the hunt that resulted in him and a young Indian becoming 'blood brothers.' "He's on the ship right now, because he has the second sight which could be very useful when we're dealing with Ashford's nanny-witch."
Mary – and Liza, who had joined them by now – stared at John. "You … you shot a wild boar?" Mrs. Darling croaked.
"Aye!" John nodded proudly.
"No worries, Mother. Mr. Smee shot the beast, too. John was just quicker than our Grey Beard here," Slightly smirked and clapped the bosun on the shoulder. Smee grinned at the boy.
"Grey Beard?"
"That's Smee's Indian name – just like Hook is called 'Iron-Hand' and Wendy is 'Brave Feather'," Curley said.
"And Peter is called 'Little White Eagle'," Tootles added.
Mrs. Darling closed her eyes. "I see," she murmured. And suddenly she had the urge to lie down and absorb all they'd told her. In peace.
*** PP *** PP ***
She couldn't know that her husband had the same wish: To lie down in forgetful sleep. But this was impossible, for he would have to accompany Sir Edward to dinner. He was already dressed for it, having changed as soon as he'd reached his room, then returning to the lobby to use the telephone. As he left his room, he felt a headache building behind his temples.
He was relieved that the boys were home – finally! They were safe, and – as Mary had mentioned – well. That was most important, closely followed by a variety of new problems. If John wasn't exaggerating (and his son rarely did) then Viscount Ashford was not a nice man. Far from it. If he really had sacrificed innocent people to reach his goal, then he was a cold-blooded murderer. Indeed, the same for the men who condemned the six pirates to death by fire. Pirates or not, a death by flames was cruel and definitely illegal.
And what about this boy taken hostage? Threatening a child was the lowest crime possible in Mr. Darling's eyes. And what about Wendy's favorite villain, that Hook character? John said that Ashford had shot down the captain about to challenge him to a duel. George had never been in favor of duels which had been forbidden – thank God. But shooting someone before the duel even took place was not only cowardly but murder. Or, in this case, attempted murder. The captain had survived, and brought the boys back to London. For which Mr. Darling was grateful, yes. But he had hoped that the chapter on 'Neverland' would be over as soon as Wendy and the boys were back. But, it seemed, Neverland was still pursuing them.
He knew he had to speak with Captain Hook, pirate or not. He owed the man that much. And, he wanted to clarify what was transpiring between his daughter and the captain. Hook's reason for coming to London was not only to bring the boys back, of this George was certain. Deep down he knew that the captain had come for Wendy – an odd idea given their first encounter, which George still didn't even want to think about.
Mary was right. There was a connection between the two, an attraction George had never been able to understand – possibly because he didn't want to. For how it was even possible that his daughter described in detail a man she had never met and of whom no records existed? But with the captain coming to London, everything now changed. Mr. Darling wanted answers about this mystical island, the flying boy and that damned pirate who now forced him to face facts he had successfully denied so far.
A subtle bell turned George toward the elevator, where he saw Sir Edward egressing. Groaning inwardly and forcing a pleasant smile on his face, George approached; wishing with all his heart that the evening was over so that he could go to his room and make plans what do to when back in London.
He couldn't know that fate had already laid the path for him …
TBC…
Poor George. Here he thought that the whole 'chapter' of 'Neverland' will be over as soon as his daughter and the boys are back, and then island 'comes' to London – at least a few of its habitants. And, believe me, he soon will get a few shocks more, just like Mary in the next chapter. How so? Well, Wendy sneaks at night through the manor and is able to call at home. You can imagine the aftermath? At least she is going to learn something that will revival her spirits and wakes the fighter in her again…
I hope, you liked the new chapter, and my dear beta-reader and I would be very – very! – happy to get a few reviews.
Have a nice rest of the week,
Love
Yours Lywhn / Starflight