There's always time-PEREKOO

Chapter 5

They never talked about it again...

''Good morning.''

We quickly pulled away, Isabel started studying the curtains, Alma just started making the tea.

''Good morning, Miss P and  Miss Cuckoo, how lovely to see you again, I didn't know you stayed the night.'' Millard! I rapidly turned around. He was standing in the door, wearing his Rubin red nightgown.

''Good morning, Mr. Nulligs. How did you sleep?'' Don't sound so anxious. Even though he's invisible I could feel him staring.

''I slept quite well. How did you sleep, Miss Peregrine, Miss Cuckoo?'' Well, you don't really get the beauty's sleep, when you spend the whole night daydreaming about a certain someone, about things that could never be yet, these thoughts are so seductive. Her body next to mine, sharing warmth and love, the same rhythm of the heart. To see the sun rise in her eyes like an infinitive fire that could never be extinguished. To be the reason she smiles.

''Yes, I slept well too,'' said Alma meeting what she thought was Millard's gaze.

''Miss Cuckoo?''

''I suppose I slept well as well, thank you...'' said Isabel while still studying the furniture in the room.

''I'm sorry if it's a personal question but did something happen?'' asked Millard trying to read us

''NO!'' Shouted Alma and Isabel. I looked at her, she was avoiding my eyes.

''No...Nothing happened, dear. We are fine.'' said Isabel with hesitation and some sort of sadness in her voice.

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''Take care, chérie, I promised I'll call,'' said Isabel smiling. ''It was nice here, thank you, Alma.'' I offered her a friendly handshake but she just pulled me in and tightly hugged me. She was always the one more forward, physical. It felt so good holding her in my arms. She smelt like vanilla and chocolate, sweet and bitter. I loved it.

''I'm going to miss you...'' whispered Alma. ''Tu me manqueras aussi, ma chèrie,'' laughed lightly Isabel before pulling away to gaze into Miss Peregrine's eyes.

''Au revoir.'' said Miss Cuckoo then she turned around and walked away.

''Goodbye, my precious diamond,'' whispered Alma when was Isabel far away to hear.

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''Miss Peregrine, are you alright?'' It has been weeks since Isabel's visit and the memory of her went colder every day. She did call Alma every third day and they talked, laughed, but it didn't feel the same.  Miss Peregrine read new books and twice reread her favourites to take her mind off things, but it didn't help. Isabel was always there. Smiling at her, smirking, dancing around the room on some silent tune.

I looked up from the embroidery I was making to meet Emma's worried eyes.

''Why, would I not be?'' Said Alma covering up her unhappiness with a smile. Emma just narrowed her eyes and pressed her red lips together creating an 'I'm not convinced.' expression. Why is she so smart? She always sees through. I looked away to find a way out. Someone calling me or some noise would be enough, but nothing came. Miss Peregrine just let out a sigh.

''You seem so distant these days even the other kids noticed. We want to help you, Miss Peregrine.''

''I'm not sure I follow Miss Bloom,'' said the peregrine and looked down at her unfinished work. Alma really liked the way the embroidery looked so far. The sunflower looked good with the light brown background. She used light and dark yellow to create contrast and shading in the flower and to make her work more visually interesting.

''It's just, we miss you.''

That made Miss Peregrine look up. Great, now my silly affection for Isabel makes the children sad.

Alma was always inconceivably British. Not showing much affection or sadness, she was always good at hiding her feelings. She learned, after leaving her parents, pretty quickly that sentiment could be wonderful as well as poisonous. In some situations was better to suppress her emotions, to shut the door and hide the key. But the kids and Isabel often made her forget, and the mask would slip like a leaf in autumn that's carried away by the hot wind.

''I-'' the words died on her lips.

''It's about Miss Cuckoo, isn't it?''

''I don't know what you're talking about,'' said Alma. Great, now I'm just being mean. ''Sorry.''

''You should write her, tell her how you feel. Share it with someone,'' said Emma. Then she put her hand on my shoulder and smiled.

''Promise me you will, please.''

''I will. Thank you, Emma,'' said Alma. Her ward then turned around and walked away. Alma watched her until she disappeared into the hall. Sweet girl.

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Writing has never been Alma's favourite thing to do. The problem wasn't the act of writing, it was the idea of what to write. She'd start and then change her mind. Most of the people would just correct themselves in the next sentence but not Alma. She, as a punctual person, would throw the first version away and star all over again. She'd always try to impress. No ticks no stains or blots. Letters from Miss Peregrine had always been a piece of literature, not to mention her wonderful handwriting. Letter after letter as an unending ribbon dancing around the page.

''You're a real poet, Alma. I love the way you're bending the meanings of different words together to create a long river of emotions and feelings. You always send my imagination spinning,'' said Isabel while rereading Alma's letter looking for grammar mistakes. It was unuseful and everyone knew it. Little Miss Peregrine's English was flawless, polite but not dry, very moving.

The peregrine just looked away smiling, a light rose covering her cheeks. Isabel wasn't the only one who praised Alma, but her words were always something more to her than anyone else's. They made her heart beat faster, her blood rush into her cheeks, breath to hitch, her hands to shake. She didn't know why and was scared of the answer.

''Thank you, Is. But I think you flatter me too much,'' said Alma pressing her lips into a thin line. Her friend just amused watched her from her bed, then she stood up and lift her friend's head to meet her eyes. Alma froze.

''Fay, you are, and remember this, the most talented person I know, you're smart and witty and extremely lovable, and I hope one day you'll see it too because everyone else does. I do.''