Hi, my dear readers!
What? Not one review? Ooops, and there I thought that the whole chapter with Hook revealing what really happened a century ago concerning Peter's family, and then the captain's abduction would impress you. I hope, it's only shortage of time that kept you away from leaving some feedback.
Just in time I can publish the next chapter. After Hook was kidnapped and Peter is pursued by two of Ashford's men, everything seems to go down the road, but besides his old gang – who doesn't know that he is in hot water – he also got new friends. And someone, he had never met before, is willing to aid him…
I hope you're going to like the new chapter.
Yours Lywhn / Starflight
Chapter 66 – Family Ties
Cora Bailey had remained a moment by the gate of her house after the handsome, polite, one-handed, curious captain had departed. The visit was unexpected, provoking many questions she hadn't considered in years. She felt a thrill in her chest as if some old memory had been stirred. Why should an American captain – who spoke in a very cultivated but old-fashioned English – be so interested in her family's past? The excuse that one of his ancestors had investigated the case of her missing great granduncle was plausible, but hardly likely. But even if true, why would this captain desire to discover what could have happened after his ancestor gave up? She couldn't accept that he'd done all that research, then sought her out now because he was taken with the disappearance of one tiny boy over a century ago. And how was it that he knew the old forgotten tales of Peter Pan? Those stories hadn't been told for thirty years or more, and the newspaper said that the captain was here in England for the first time. He couldn't have known of the old legend! How strange!
Even stranger, the tale of the Pan had been on her mind for the past few days, perhaps since Easter. Could the history of the Resurrection have brought it to mind? She wondered why no one had ever collected those wonderful tales and written them down. Well, too late now. But captain's visit …
Curiosity piqued, Cora climbed the stairs to the first level where the master bedroom and her dressing room were located. Moving to the front window, she could look down onto the street.
Baywater Road could be busy, but it was mostly used by bicycles and pedestrians at this time. At the window, she could see the tall figure of the sea captain, and with him stood a young boy with sandy locks, clad in knickers, shirt, jacket, socks and shoes. Cora watched them converse, the boy gesturing, irritated, in her direction. And the woman frowned. Something about the boy looked so familiar, but she knew she hadn't seen him before. Those features, rounded and childlike, prodded her memory. A memory of an old painting in a photo that revealed … her great grandparents! She blinked. No, that couldn't be! She had to be mistaken. Or not? One way to find out.
She turned to a dresser, opened the bottom drawer and took out an old photograph album in which she kept the most important and rare photos – from her early childhood until her husband's death. Opening it she quickly found the yellowed daguerreotype she had in mind and stared down at it. In the foreground were her grandfather and her grandmother and her father when he was still a boy. And behind them was the old painting. Even in black and white, yellowed, she could see that her memory hadn't tricked her: That boy on the street in front of her house looked exactly like her great grandfather William!
Returning to the window and taking the album with her, she looked onto the street and compared the man in the painting and the youth, who seemed to grow increasingly upset. Yes, there was no doubt. Her great grandfather William and that boy were cast from the same mold!
The boy seemed about to burst into tears, and the captain pulled the youth into his arms. The boy clung to him and began to weep. But why? What had inspired those tears? The captain's revelations as he spoke with her? Why should that conversation be so unnerving to the lad? They had talked about her vanished granduncle what was certainly not of any interest to the boy. Yet … the resemblance … !
Cora thoughtfully pursed her lips. None of her family had ever moved to America and the boy down on the street seemed to be Captain Andrews' son, yet he did look very much like her antecedent. Was the boy descended from her missing granduncle? Had the boy really been kidnapped and somehow ended up in the United States, growing up there, having his own family? Well, that would mean that the captain was also part of this unknown group of relatives, but his features bore no trace of her father's family.
An older couple passed beside father and son, looked on sympathetically, then walked away; a moment later the boy lifted his face to glance up at the captain. She could see him clearly, and once again Cora was shocked. Yes, there was no doubt. He was her great grandfather William and Grandfather Lucas come alive, only as a boy.
Her conclusions were interrupted, because what she saw now made her gasp. A larger blue motorcar – an Austin, she noticed – drove toward the captain and the youth. Another smaller vehicle parked at her side of the street and men stepped out, heading towards father and son who now looked … alarmed. And then the captain reacted as if he'd seen an enemy. He exchanged a few, obviously heated words with the boy, then quickly boosted him over the fence. She heard one of the approaching men shouting, then they grabbed the captain. A well-dressed young man seemed to be in charge of the group. The captain struggled. Opening the window, she heard his voice shouting: "Peter, run!"
Cora's hand went to her throat in shock. Peter… This boy's name was Peter, too! Well, it might be a coincidence! Just like it is pure coincidence that he looks like your great grandfather and his son? a sensible voice in her mind pointed out.
Before she could process this thought, a second gasp escaped her, because there was a sudden movement beside the captain in the air. For a few moments a tiny light dashed about, leaving a dusting of gold in the air, then it flew straight into the face of one of the captain's captors and the man stumbled back, clutching his nose and howling. Another man got a bleeding ear before the tiny illumination shot over the fence and raced after the boy, vanishing somewhere in Kensington Gardens in a pink and golden trail of glitter.
A stab of delight struck her heart. A fairy! Cora Bailey had never stopped believing in them, and when younger, she had been absolutely convinced that she saw a few of them in the flower beds or in the trees of the Gardens. She never told anyone about that, for the memory was far too precious, but the belief remained.
A fairy, a boy with the features of her great grandfather wearing the name Peter …
A firm conclusion rocketed from the depths of her heart and soul. One that was too impossible to be true, but the girl who had believed in Peter Pan and fairies was now awakened, would not be dismissed. Could it be that this boy was in truth her missing great granduncle?
No! This was out of question. Yet the resemblance…
'Nonsense!' her rational mind insisted scornfully. 'Where has he been for the last hundred years? And if he really were still alive, he would be a VERY old man by now! Look at the lad, Cora. He can't be older than twelve! Sure, the stories of Peter Pan haunting the Gardens lasted for decades – a toddler who remained a "three-cheese-high" – but these were fairy tales. So don't be a silly old woman! Go find a more rational explanation for that boy down there!' These contradictory thoughts flitted through her mind as fast as a dragonfly wing.
Flinging curtains back and raising the window higher, she saw, with rising horror, that the nice Captain Andrews was forced into the Austin at gunpoint - she could see the pistol clearly from her position above! Two of the other men – hoodlums to her mind (one of them had the bleeding ear) – dashed down the street toward the gate to Kensington Gardens, their intention clear. They were after the boy. The others climbed into the Austin.
And as the motorcar moved down Bayswater Road and passed her house, Andrews looked toward her and saw her watching them at the window. And she knew what he mouthed to her: Save the boy!
Cora Bailey had lived over sixty years. She was a well-established, respectable woman. She had birthed her own children and forged a place in society. She had resigned herself to a quiet widowhood. Some called her wise, sensible, demure, but she cast aside these considerations, attending to her heart. Immediately she pulled the photo out of the album and put it into her skirt pocket. Throwing the album onto the bed, she took up one of her large shawls and ran down the stairs. Millie was on her way from the dining room to the kitchen and gasped as the lady of the house dashed to the front door, shawl about her shoulders.
"Ma'am, what's the matter?" she asked, worried.
"Stay here and keep the door open!" Cora called and left the house. Moments later she was on the street and saw the captain's cap on the pavement. Ignoring it, she began to run toward the Lancaster Gate that led into the Gardens. She knew one thing: She had to find that boy – that Peter. He was somehow related to her. Of this she grew more and more certain. She felt it in her bones: The blood that coursed in the boy's veins was calling to her.
Out of breath and catching her second wind, she reached the entrance and entered the Gardens; ignoring the arriving and now parking car nearby, the young driver watching her suspiciously. The musicians further along were putting instruments away, their audience now collecting their belongings and leaving. But she had no thought for them. She finally saw the two men striding purposefully toward the Long Water, passing it and proceeding onto the walkway that led along the lake. Nearly running now over the large terrace of the Italian Garden, Cora approached the two men and saw them split up. One continued to walk along the path, the other one ran over the grass and vanished among the bushes and trees; moving in the direction where Peter had gone after surmounting the fence, followed by the fairy.
The fairy … Here, in the Gardens' own magic, she sensed their presence as strongly as she had as child. She knew what she had seen – that the brilliant little creature hadn't been imagined. The man's bleeding nose and the other man's injured ear were proof enough. Truly the fairy had attacked them to distract them, giving the boy a chance to flee!
A fairy and a boy named Peter…
Peter Pan – the boy who had lived with the fairies in Kensington Gardens!
Once the idea came, she couldn't dismiss it. Could she have been right her whole life, that the missing granduncle Peter and Peter Pan were – indeed – the same person? But even if not true, one thing was clear: that boy needed help – now! His father – mentor? – had been forcibly abducted. And these foul men were after Peter, too. She couldn't know what really was going on, but the man had seen to the boy's safety before they took him. She would do her best to make sure that no harm would befall this child.
She followed the men, then saw a movement in the bushes – and something was glistening there. The boy and the fairy! Gathering her skirts, she moved in that direction; not considering the possible danger.
*** PP ***
Peter ran, barely touching the grass. He so wished he could fly, but there were still too many people about. This wasn't Neverland! Yes, his anxiety for Hook would have given him the wings to hide in the trees, but they were – like much of the foliage – leafless and no real protection. He darted to the center of a collection of bushes.
He heard Aurora following, and then she was in his face. Quickly she told him that Hook had been forced into that ugly noisy box and taken away. Peter blanched and balled his hands into fists. "So, they took him. Ashford needs him alive – maybe to force Wendy and me."
Aurora danced about him, talking; she was very concerned for her husband. Peter's face brightened. "Kailen is in Hook's pocket? That's good. He can be a great fighter and a real help. So, James isn't alone." He looked thoughtful, propping his hands at his waist, thinking quickly. "We need to go to Wendy's house to -"
Aurora jangled in alarm and turning around, Peter saw the Dane trotting down the path across the space of grass. Hastily, Peter dropped to the ground, and Aurora told him that two men were after him. Where was the second? Warily the boy eyed his surroundings. The leafless undergrowth didn't offer much protection, but he decided not to run to Mab's palace. That would lead his pursuers directly to the fairies' main home, and he had seen what those men were capable of. Despite his anger at Mab about her possible deceptions, he couldn't bring himself to deliver her and her kin to what those men could do. No, this was his fight.
It was that moment he heard a deep bell ringing six times – the time Daniel wanted to pick them both up. That meant the young man was at the gate behind 'all the figures and balustrades'! With a grim smile and narrowed eyes, he carefully rose and darted a look up the path. The hunter was not far, perhaps fifty or sixty yards, searching in every direction. Peter scowled. If he moved into the open, Anders would see him, so he had to return to the gate using the sparse protection of the bushes.
Aurora made a quick suggestion, and he shook his head. "No, we can't go to the palace," he whispered. "If they find it, they-" Suddenly there was a golden flash in front of him. "Tink!" he sighed in relief. "Tink, Ashford came. He kidnapped Hook and his men are after me now," he told in a hushed voice.
The star fairy stood still in the air, staring at him. It's true she was furious with Hook for trying to persuade Peter to remain in London. Mab had made it very clear to her that Peter Pan was a hair's breadth away from having matured too much to return to Neverland. If someone else was more important to him than Neverland and his childhood, then he was leaving that childhood behind. Tink knew that Peter first turned that direction the moment he saw Wendy, when he'd looked in her eyes and felt those oh-so confusing feelings. Since then, so many things happened which had brought him to that point again and again – dangers he hadn't succumbed to because a certain grownup had supported him. Even rescued him. That very same man who seemed to be succeeding in making Peter Pan slowly grow up where Wendy failed.
Tink should have been glad that the man was out of the way – at least for now – but she knew how much Hook meant to her friend. Peter had already been through the pain of losing the man, even though "the reports of his death were greatly exaggerated." To put him through that experience again – for real – would be too much for the Prince of Neverland. Of course Tink feared more for Peter than for Hook – even if she had learned to respect the buccaneer. Having to reconcile so many feelings at a time was very hard for her.
Peter seemed to be waiting for a suggestion, so she made one. But he shook his head. "No, I can't hide here. Hook needs me. I have to get to Wendy's house -" Again Tinker Bell spoke. Peter rolled his eyes. "I can't go to them for a glamour charm for disguise! Those men could follow me. You know what they can do to your kin. Ashford's witch must have taught them how to deal with Little People. If they find Mab's palace there could be massacre among your people, Tink, and I can't let that happen-" He cut off his whisper, hearing branches cracking, and made himself small. Not far away Wickham passed by through the bushes, ear still bleeding. Peter had a very good idea to whom the man owed this 'souvenir.' Waiting for the hunter to vanish, the boy finally peeked out of his hideout. The two men had met again on the walkway.
"Right, now or never," he whispered, beginning to creep back north toward the gate of the park, the two fairies hidden near his clothes.
He didn't get far when behind him a voice shouted, "There he is!"
Darting a look over his shoulder, Peter saw Wickham a stone's throw away. And hearing the Dane answering, he knew that he had to get away now! Like an arrow shot from a bow, the boy began to run to the pavement and then along it. He was faster here, while the two fairies raced between the bushes and trees. He was hoping he could hide in the crowd by the terrace. He was sure, or at least hoped that they wouldn't dare to kidnap him in front of dozens of witnesses.
He heard heavy, quick steps behind him and then the Dane's voice: "Stop where you are, brat – or your pirate-friend will regret it!"
'Kidnapping and ransoming – but not in my back yard!' Peter thought furiously and went even faster.
Nearing the terrace, an older lady in a lacy beige dress appeared suddenly in front of him, grabbing Peter's arm as he passed and moving between him and Anders. "Why are you chasing my grandson?" she yelled angrily at Anders.
Peter nearly stumbled in surprise. Grandson? But he could play along. Glancing back and stopping, the woman spread her arms and shielded him. Anders had no other choice but to pause, attempting to go around her and grab the boy. But the lady was wonderfully quick, as she got in his way again. "Leave my boy alone!" she said loudly, glancing over her shoulder at Peter, then at Wickham who was also approaching. She took a deep breath and screamed on the top of her lungs, "HEEEELP! THESE MEN ARE TRYING TO KIDNAP MY GRANDSON! HELP!"
Women can have very loud voices – and this lady was exceptionally loud. Her plea for help attracted the attention of the people who stood at the Long Water. And all those people saw was a sweet grandmotherly woman trying to protect a young boy from a pair of miscreants.
Instantly two large gentlemen felt compelled to interfere. "By Jove, you, leave that lady and the boy alone!" one of them shouted, which attracted even more attention. In the shake of a lamb's tail, all left in earshot were ready to help.
Einar Anders cursed foully. "Ugly old bat, let go of me!" he demanded. "That little pest isn't your-"
"Help, he's threatening us!" Cora screamed again, then she saw the second man drawing close; his furious eyes fixed on the boy. "PETER, RUN!" she shouted towards a clueless boy. "RUN!" She gasped as the large man she had stopped tried to push her aside. Quick as thought she used his rudeness to cry out and to give him a resounding slap in return. "How dare you!" she shouted, while angry voices now surrounded them.
Anders was stunned as the lady's hand landed sharply on his cheek. The next moment she kicked his shin, then she turned and moved into Wickham's path. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Cora yelled as Wickham slammed into her, unable move around her. She almost lost her balance, but quite angry by now, she kept her feet. She glared at the man whose dirty blond hair and the scar on his left cheek spoke of a dubious lifestyle. These two were rascals, she could tell, nothing else!
"KEEP AWAY FROM MY GRANDSON!"
Quickly recovering from his initial surprise, Peter's impulse was to get away. But he couldn't leave a lady alone, in distress. "Get away from her!" he demanded fiercely and turned with balled fists towards the two men. "Leave her alone, you foul devils!" Behind him, a few men approached at a run, among them a Gardens attendant. Also, from behind Anders and Wickham, he saw that the boys who had been playing with a ball stopped, saw what was going on and ran toward him and three grownups, ready to help.
Anders swore again. He knew that he and Wickham had no chance of capturing Peter Pan now. They would call themselves lucky if they got away, for the men approaching to aid the pair were surrounding them, looking grim. And the two dozen approaching boys didn't look any friendlier. "Morton, let's get out of here!" he called and closed the distance to his crony and Peter, who shoved Wickham away from the elder woman. Snatching Peter's upper arm, he whispered harshly, "This isn't over. Be at the manor before midnight or your friend dies!"
Peter narrowed his eyes and fingered his knife beneath his jacket. "You do that and you're all dead! Ashford and the rest of you!" he growled. Coming from a boy, those words might have sounded amusing if he hadn't looked so grim and purposeful … and capable of fulfilling his promise. Peter Pan had killed enemies before. He would indeed eliminate those who harmed his friends.
Anders saw that the audience from the musical performance was nearing. The boys also, so he only added hastily, "You heard me. You come and Hook lives. You don't, he dies at midnight. His life is in your hands!" Then he quickly retreated. "Morton, come on – before these noble idiots tear us apart." Both men fled towards the bushes. And seeing Anders stumble over a root and land face-first in in the turf was certainly no accident, Peter was sure that Tink and Aurora were responsible for the offending root.
"Well done, you two," he whispered, then the boys were around him; asking him and the strange lady what was going on. The first men reached Peter and Cora; the attendant wanted to know what happened; an older man – completely out of breath – now paused, seeing they were no longer accosted, and tried to catch his breath; others pursued the two hunters. A few of the women approached, and briefly Peter thought he might be surrounded by a flock of geese; all chattering the same.
Someone else now pushed through the crowd. "Peter!" As the boy turned, he recognized the new arrival: "Daniel!"
The young reporter took the boy by the shoulders, assessing him quickly from head to toe. "Are you unharmed?" he asked. As the boy nodded, Kempton's eyes searched the crowd around them. "Where is H- Captain Andrews?"
Peter's expression told him volumes. "Not here," he replied. Daniel nodded, understanding.
The uniformed attendant reached him, asking loudly, "Your grandmother said that these two men wanted to kidnap you. I saw one speaking with you. What did they want? Shall I inform the police?"
Peter had figured out what the 'pleece' was and knew instinctively that they would only worsen the situation – and interfere with the rescue of Hook. So the truth was not an option. Instead he replied, "They called me 'Fergis.' They must have though I was someone else. The man that spoke with me said I should keep my mouth shut." He shrugged, "Maybe he and his mate are still after this 'Fergis.'"
The attendant looked over the other boys. "Any of you young lads named Fergis?" All shook their heads. The uniformed man sighed. "Well, I will tell my colleagues to be on guard over the next few days." He saw the men returning who had chased the 'kidnappers.' "Seems the blokes got away." He forced a smile on his face and clapped Peter on the shoulder. "Th' impo'tnt thing is that you and your granny are awright." He looked at Daniel. "You in the family, sir?"
"No, I'm a friend of his father," Daniel answered neutrally; trying not to look astonished that the older lady had also interfered. What miracle was taking place here?
"Aye, then you can accompany the lad and the lady home. I don't think we can watch all the exits, but I give a report to my superior." He nodded at Daniel, winked at Peter, tapped the brim of his cap towards Mrs. Bailey and turned to the dispersing crowd. "G'arn now, excitement's over. Please give th' lady and the boy some room."
Gradually the people departed, wishing the lady and Peter well. The boys remained a little longer, asked Peter where he was from, if he would join their games the next day. "We're here every afternoon if the weather is good," said a boy with the ball. "We always need players for football." So, the game Peter had watched was indeed this 'football'.
He smiled, surprised at the invitation. "I'd like that," he nodded, then he remembered that he just might be returning to Neverland. For the first time ever, he felt no real anticipation at the thought. And before that, he had to save Hook. "I don't know if I can come tomorrow, but when I can."
A boy with the dark hair slapped him on the shoulder. "Stop by when can. You're welcome any time – at least until school starts. But," he winked, "counting our blessings, lessons don't last all day, so we can play at the afternoons." The boys around him laughed and nodded.
"You all go to the same school?" Peter blurted before he could stop himself. He was really curious about the daily routine of boys on the Mainland.
"No, we go to different schools, but no matter. We can share ideas for new mischiefs with each other and how to get not caught. See, we can exchange ideas but the teachers don't!"
Hook had told him the same – that the real challenge was in not getting caught.
Hook…
The captain needed him, now, and so Peter said "good-bye for now" and turned his attention to Daniel and Cora, and who just had introduced themselves to each other. Peter's next words caught in his throat as he lifted his head and looked straight into his own eyes. Well, sort of. These eyes were rounder, but they showed the same intense crystal blue as his own. The woman was definitely older. Sand colored hair mixed with the first grey and her face showed a life of laughter and caring in the lines, but her features resembled his own. For a long moment he was too surprised to move or talk. He knew exactly who stood in front of him: The woman Hook mentioned – Peter's relative.
Daniel watched the boy's reaction to the woman and warily placed himself beside Peter. "Ma'am, why did you pose as Peter's grandmother?"
Cora was looking at the lovely child, so much like the photos she kept in the drawer. Now, seeing the boy so close, she realized how much he resembled his father – her great grandfather. But she couldn't say this to a stranger. So she replied: "Because if I had told the truth, no one would have believed me."
"You … you're one of … of my parents' relatives, right?" Peter asked carefully. He heard Tink from somewhere in the bushes warning him not to speak with the strange woman, but he ignored her.
"What?" Daniel stared wide-eyed first at him, then at the older woman. Yes, there was a resemblance between the two, but … "Do you believe that, Peter? Think how long ago your parents lived."
His words were answer enough for Cora. The young man knew that a living legend in form of a young boy was standing beside him.
"Yes, I truly believe I am a member of your family," she answered softly. "My grandfather Lucas was your brother, dear Great Granduncle Peter." It felt strange to address this lad as her granduncle, someone over a hundred years old, but she knew in her heart of hearts that it was true. This boy was the missing older brother of her grandfather. The youth's eyes darted around – like a trapped deer searching a way of escape, so Cora lifted both hands as if in surrender, and stepped back. "Have no fear, Peter, I won't harm you. Far from it. I watched what happened to Captain Andrews. I saw that two men pursued you, so I left my house and followed after them, hoping to keep you safe."
That reminded Daniel: "What happened to Hook?" he asked Peter, who had opened his jacket and run his fingers through his hair, clearly unnerved.
"He was captured – by Ashford and a few of his men," he murmured. Quickly, in murmured tones, he told Daniel what all happened, then let his head hang in shame. "I should have stayed with him," he ended.
"You did the only thing you could have done," Daniel remonstrated; taken aback by the events. "Otherwise Ashford would have gotten you both – and you know what his witch wants from you."
Peter looked up, his eyes were brimming, but they burnt with an inner fire. "Hook saved my life a dozen times and more – and I let him down! How -"
"You didn't let him down, Peter. Hook is a grown man who is very capable of defending himself." Kempton interrupted him. "You of all people should know that!"
The boy growled. "He was outnumbered and even his hook was no help for him."
Cora had been listening carefully. "You call Captain Andrews 'Hook'? It's a nick-name, right?" They looked at her in surprise, obviously having forgotten her presence.
"Sort of," Peter replied.
"Well, he was forced into a motorcar by gunpoint. I could see it happen from my bedroom window. His questions about 'the missing little boy from a hundred years ago' and about the boy's mother made me curious, so I went upstairs after he left, to watch him go. Then I saw you – and I started to put the pieces together because I recognized you."
"You recognized me?" Peter queried, eyes wide.
"Yes. I have an album of old photos, and found the proof of who you really are." She took the picture out of her skirt pocket. "Here," she said and offered the picture to the youth who hesitated, but finally took it. Carefully, as if he expected the little piece of paper to bite him, he took it and looked at it. A man, a woman and a young boy, but that wasn't what caught his attention. It was the painting in the background. He hadn't seen the lady in it for many years, and she was older than he remembered her, yet he would have recognized her anywhere, even though he'd spent his life trying to forget her.
"Mummy," he whispered and felt his throat tightening.
Daniel bent to look. For a moment he was confused, seeing the family in the foreground. Then he saw the painting in the background and took a sharp breath. "The man on the painting – he looks like you."
"That's William, Peter's father," Cora explained quietly. Watching him, she moved closer. Seeing a tear fall on his hand, she touched his shoulder. "Yes," she said quietly. "Those were your parents – William and Adelaide. They did everything in their power to find you, for years, and your mother never gave up. I was very young when she died, but my mother was there when your mother went to heaven with your name on her lips. My mother told me about it."
Peter looked up at her, then the tears rolled down his cheeks and a sob escaped him. "And … and I thought … the bars in front of the window … She sang to another baby, and then laid it in a cradle. I thought-" That moment a golden light raced between him and the older lady.
Cora gasped as she saw a beautiful but angry little, winged female being, clad in leaves, who chimed furiously at her. Peter snatched the fairy out of the air; the photo fell to the ground, but Daniel picked it up. "Tink, enough!" Peter said sharply. Promptly she bit one of his fingers and he hissed, but didn't let go. "I said, enough! You can't just-" Again she jangled harshly and gestured wildly between him and Cora, distracting him from the revelation of the truth he'd just learned. Cora and Daniel stared at the fairy, who had now turned red with fury.
"Tink, I mean it!" Peter snarled. "I think I know why my mother didn't hear me when I tried to go home! I think some fairy magic did it, or do you have another story?" He looked at her angrily. "Maybe Mab deafened my mother or made her sleep. Or she stopped my tongue for a while and I didn't know it – after all they had already kept me busy for … for months – years even. That was the game you played with me! And if I had time, I would go back to Mab and demand she tell me the truth, because I bet a whole pot of Indian corn stew that she is the one who made this mess!" His face was flushed, his eyes still full of tears, his eyes brimming with angry energy as he held the fairy.
"Peter, calm down. Tinker Bell didn't do all those things," Daniel said gently. Then he looked at Mrs. Bailey, whose eyes moved back and forth from Tink in Peter's fist to the boy's face.
A fairy! She knew it! She heard another telltale chime from the bushes nearby, and knew that a second fairy was hiding there. Then she saw the little pipe that was peeking from beneath the boy's waistcoat, and shook her head in awe. "I was right! My great granduncle Peter is Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up!"
Peter shrugged apologetically, and, calming, took a deep breath while he released Tinker Bell, who shot into the air. She tried to straighten her wrinkled leaf-dress and scolded him angrily. "Sorry," the boy mumbled, and sniffled.
Cora Bailey had travelled to France, Spain and Italy, northern parts of Africa, had seen most of Great Britain and had even been to Egypt once. Everywhere little wonders still existed – things others couldn't see anymore because they had lost their belief in them. But she had always kept her eyes and heart wide open. Yet seeing a real fairy was shocking and awe-inspiring in one. Fascinated, she watched the little being and she was glad that it stayed close to them so that no one at the lake could see it. Then a second glowing joined the first, and Mrs. Bailey recognized another fairy, clad in pink petals. "Oh my stars and garters!" she breathed.
The two fairies looked to her; only now realizing that they had revealed themselves to another strange human. They looked at each other in shock – Niam would be outraged!
"Don't fear me, dear ones," Cora said, seeing their distress. "I've known about you fairies and seen your people here in the flower beds since I was very small." She looked back at Peter. "That was when I heard about you, Peter." She looked at him affectionately. "Even the brother of my father-in-law, Oliver Bailey, said he saw the light of a fairy house one evening as he came home from his father's office at Temple." She looked at him thoughtfully. "The stories told of a toddler, but you're older."
Peter gave her a side glance. "I grew some since I went to Neverland," he said dismissively. Tinker Bell straightened a wrinkled wing edge until it was right, then chimed in an irritated voice. The boy rolled his eyes. "I already said that I was sorry, Tink. I know that you're not the one who tricked me when I wanted to go home. I'm sorry I was rude. But so much has gone wrong!" He sighed and looked skyward, as if searching for an answer there.
Cora watched him closely. "You're in a real bind then?"
"As you say, lady," the youth growled.
"Cora," Mrs. Bailey corrected him. "We're related, so please call me Cora."
Peter nodded brusquely. "Thanks, but that's going to take some getting used to." He sighed, shoulders sagging.
"Yes, most unusual," Cora smiled. "Perhaps you could just consider me a friend." She now added, "You mentioned 'Neverland.' I never heard of it. Where is it?"
Peter waved a hand towards the sky. "Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning," he recited.
"What, where?" Now she was even more confused.
"It's a kind of fairy realm," Daniel explained quietly. "It's a tropical island full of magical beings where time runs differently than it does here. At least that's the way I understand it so far."
"And now we're running out of time," Peter added impatiently. "Anders told me that I have until midnight to deliver myself to the manor, or they're going to kill Hook!"
"What?" Daniel and Cora gasped in union.
Aurora spoke and Peter rolled his eyes yet again. "Yes, I know Kailen is with him, but what can a single little pixie do against those evil men and the witch?" He shook his head. "I to get Hook out – and the dragon egg. And for that I need his crew – and my friends." He glanced at Daniel. "Can you drive me to the Darlings? I can't fly just now, so-"
"You fly?" Cora shouldn't have been surprised, but she was.
"Aye, usually I can fly. But just now I have no happy thoughts, and evil thoughts … they weigh me down. And, by the way, I can't fly during daylight. I'd be seen, you know." He propped his fists on his hips. "What a confounded mess! Hook needs me! and I have no clue how to get to him. By Oberon's pointy staff, I don't even know where that manor is!"
"You're sure they went to the manor?" Daniel asked. "I know where it is, but-"
"Anders demanded that I go there, so – yes – they took Hook to the manor. But I'm glad you know where to find his big big house." Opening his jacket wider, he said, "Tink, Aurora, in here, I've no time to waste." Promptly the two fairies secreted themselves in the breast pockets.
Kempton offered the photo to Cora, but Peter took it, asking her quietly, "May … may I keep it?"
She smiled warmly. "Of course."
He suddenly beamed at her, then he put the photo in a pocket and buttoned it up. Straightening, he faced the two adults. "Come on, we have to hurry!"
Daniel nodded and together with Peter, they headed to the Italian Garden.
Cora followed, rearranging her thoughts to now include fairies and fairy realms, a pixie, a witch; that her missing granduncle now walked beside her as a boy … and he could fly. But just this moment, was no time to absorb these absurdities. She would get hysterical later …
"When I've dropped you off at the Darlings', I'll drive to the docks and inform Hook's crew," Daniel announced.
"The boys and I will come with you," Peter insisted. "I have a plan for getting Hook out. He mentioned an old secret passage leading to the manor. His father wanted to close it, but it might still be there. If so, the boys and I can enter the manor through it, and Smee and the crew can come from the other side. We'll need everyone's help."
Daniel slowed, asking, "And how am I to get all the boys and the whole crew to Surrey in a motorcar with two seats?"
Peter halted beside him, staring – and groaned loudly. How indeed!
"One moment," Cora interjected. "You want to get the captain out by force?" They both turned to her with stern eyes. "That's … that's crazy – and certainly dangerous. Dear Lord, we have police, you know, so why not call them? They would free the captain and arrest his kidnappers!"
"We can't involve the police," Daniel said; knowing that he had to reveal a few things to the woman. "Captain Hook and his men have no official papers. Additionally, everyone thinks Hook is Peter's father. If Peter becomes known to the authorities and later returns to Neverland, he would disappear without an explanation, which would get Captain Hook into serious trouble." They walked between two of the basins. "Also we couldn't explain the existence of ..." his gaze went to the woman and he quickly improvised, "… of the magical items they would find in the manor." He smiled sheepishly at the older lady. "So, you see, we can't call the police. We have to get the crew and free Hook by ourselves."
"Don't worry, the crew knows how to fight," Peter said to Cora, who frowned.
"I read in the newspaper that Captain Andrews – whom we are now calling Hook? – and his crew dress like pirates of two hundred years ago. But can they really … fight?"
Peter snorted. "AYE!"
They passed through Lancaster Gate. People had gathered here – to be more precise, they had gathered around Daniel's motorcar. Then a Wolseley passed them and raced up the street, with the two men who had tried to kidnap Peter. Kempton was relieved to know that they were out of his and the boy's hair at present. Then he became aware of the people who were at his own vehicle and frowned. What was going on?
"That's really a shame! A grown man acting like a vandal."
"Yep, flat as a pancake," another laborer agreed.
Daniel gasped and got a very, very bad feeling concerning his motorcar. The same moment he heard a small boy saying, "That's a strange doll!"
"It looks like a bogey," a young girl mused.
Daniel instantly knew what the people were staring at. There, in the driver's seat, sat Bumblyn – arms loose beside him, face expressionless, eyes wide open as he stared at nothing. It was clear the tiny Hobgoblin was pretending to be a doll. 'Clever!' the reporter thought, then he focused on his motorcar and saw why it looked lopsided.
"You have a flat tire, sir," the older gentleman sighed.
"And I saw a man open the valve," another man said. "He looked like someone you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley. He ran away to that car that just drove up the road." He pointed after the Wolseley.
Fearing the worst, Daniel quickly stepped around the motorcar and grimaced. The right front tire was missing air through the open valve. Quickly he tightened it again and straightened. "It seems that man has sabotaged my motorcar."
"Outrageous!" – "A man playing a little boy's prank – I don't believe it." – "Scandalous – and right here, in Kensington!"
It was clear that the bystanders were indignant. Peter nudged Daniel. "You can't drive like this?" he asked with a tight voice. They had to get to the Darlings and then to the docks! Pronto!
"No, not like this," Kempton replied frustrated. "We've been outmaneuvered."
"I have a tire pump," Cora suddenly added. Hope filled the eyes of the other two. "My late husband ordered a Bentall four months before he died last year, and I had to take it after his death to fulfill the contract. He also bought a whole set of tools for the Bentall; there's a tire pump with them, I'm sure."
Daniel smiled in relief at her. "Smashing! Could we borrow it?"
"Of course," she replied.
The crowd around them dispersed, much to the three allies' relief. Or the four. A soft groan emanated from the driver's seat and Bumblyn relaxed visibly. "By the rainbow's faraway end! Going away they finally went. Completely stiff is poor Bumblyn now." He rose and stretched like a cat.
Cora gasped as she realized that the 'doll' was not a doll at all, but a living being. "Oh my … oh my … oh my Lord!" she whispered, looking in awe at the creature. "A … a bogey!"
"A Hobgoblin am I," Bumblyn corrected her automatically, brushing himself off. He took the cap in hand and scratched his red, wooly hair, then bowed to her briefly. "Saw the bad man coming, Bumblyn did, and hid beneath the bench. Then he heard the man bend down and heard a hissing." He began to grin. "Startled the stupid, bad man Bumblyn did, and bit the man's finger. Away he ran, but too late." His long pointed ears seemed to sag.
"You tried to stop him," Peter told him. "Very brave. If you were a boy, I would invite you to become a Lost Boy." It was one of the highest praises Peter Pan could give, and Bumblyn's ears rose. It was then the Hobgoblin noticed the woman looking at him, and went stock still. Carefully he peeked up at the woman and gulped.
"No fear, Bumblyn, she's my younger brother's granddaughter, and wants to help," Peter explained casually.
"She … WHAT?" Bumblyn stared wide-eyed first at the boy, then at Mrs. Bailey. He began to sniff in her direction like a little dog, then grinned. "Hey, smelling of the same magic as Peter she does," he exclaimed, before he bowed. "At your service Bumblyn is, Mum."
Cora had thought she had seen it all, but she was wrong. Meeting two fairies and a real Hobgoblin (who even bowed toward her) was mind numbing. For a moment she felt dizzy, then a small, strong hand gripped her elbow. "Cora, don't faint. You have to find us the pump, you know," Peter's voice said jokingly, but then she saw how tense he was. It cleared Cora's mind.
"Indeed, a Hobgoblin. Why not?" She took a deep breath and smiled at the little bogey. "I'm honored," she said, which obviously pleased the bogey. Then she turned back to the present problem. "Come with me, I'll get the pump."
"Hide," Peter instructed Bumblyn, who quickly jumped from the seat and scooted beneath it again. Then he followed the two grownups back toward the corner house where Hook had found Cora Bailey. Cora took them to Leinster Terrace where, not far away, a larger vehicle was parked. It had a top and two large bench seats, room for at least six adults. Peter's eyes widened.
"Is this your motorcar?" he asked, and when she nodded, he blurted, "We could all fit into it! Could you come with us an take the boys and me to the Jolly Roger?"
"Peter!" Daniel said, "You know it's very generous of Mrs. Bailey to lend us her tire pump. You can't ask more of her, you should know that."
"Why not? She certainly has nothing more important to do at the moment – I mean, more important than saving Hook." Peter, of course, saw no difficulty in asking for her help.
"I haven't used it for quite some time, but I'm sure I can still start it. My husband taught me how to drive," Cora told them before Daniel could reprimand the boy. "I've never been on a rescue mission before, and I would truly love to be a part of it." She stopped and looked at Peter, who looked admiringly at her. "Those boys you spoke of … I hope they aren't too young for a … a … rescue mission."
Peter shrugged. "Three of them are taller than me, the rest of them are my size," he answered. Then there was also a certain girl who would have to come with them, too … to rescue Hook – the man, she … uh! … loved.
"Where are these boys?" Cora asked.
"The Darling-family lives in Bloomsbury," Daniel answered. "If you want to help, I'll give you the address."
Cora took a deep breath as her next decision would determine her life's trajectory. She had (reluctantly) resigned herself to her calm "twilight years" as she sat in her mint green living room and worked on her embroidery and church volunteer she really get involved with the rescue? With magical beings? A granduncle still 'in short pants'? A one-handed sea-captain who looked like a pirate? A dragon? Kidnappers who wanted to deliver the boy to a witch?
As a girl she had dreamed of having adventures – of meeting Peter Pan and the fairies. And here he was: The boy who wouldn't grow up, who was, as it turned out, her missing granduncle and in trouble. Furthermore, he was not alone but was accompanied by two fairies and a Hobgoblin. And she – Cora Bailey – could be a part of the adventure that lay ahead.
Her husband, the sensible solicitor, might have called her insane, but the young girl in her rose from the depths of her heart and soul; casting aside the reasonable reservations and concerns of a grownup. What had the Hobgoblin said? That she smelled of the same magic as Peter did? Could this mean that she truly had some magic in her? Was this a family trait, or because she had always believed in fairies – just like Peter? There were no answers to those questions, but she found herself grinning.
Cora noticed that Peter and Daniel were watching her expectantly. She straightened, taking a deep breath and looked at them with fire in her eyes, saying firmly, "Give me the address. I'll get my vehicle started and change into something more … appropriate for the trip. Then on to Bloomsbury!"
TBC…
Yeah, an alley more – one, Ashford and his cronies certainly never imagined. And Cora IS related with Peter, so you can imagine how she will react during the big show-down. A little insight you already got in this chapter.
Yes, I so wanted to create a real link between Peter and the Mainland – someone from his family that (of course) still exists, even if his parents and brother are already dead for some time. And I wanted that he sees as glimpse of his mother again, even if only on a photo were a painting is to see (after all, as he was born photo cameras weren't even developed). I hope, you liked it all.
In the next chapter rescue teams are created. And even if not everything goes to Peter's liking, he know he can relay on his friends and Wendy, while Hook returns 'home' for the first time after he was forced to flee England. But it's a homecoming he never imagined like this…
I would really appreciate a little feedback. I know, the most of you are about to go to holidays and that demands some extra work in advance (I have the same problem, *sigh*), yet I would be happy to get a few reviews.
Have a nice rest of Sunday,
Yours Lywhn / Starflight