The Pirate & The Porcelain Doll (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 17

That night Waverly dreamt of trains sweeping across shifting landscapes, bandits waving swords on camels giving chase alongside, her fearless Red coming to the rescue, sweeping her up in her arms, kissing her on the lips. Why is there always danger surrounding you? she wondered, as she dressed for morning classes. Why does everything you do have to be passionate and intoxicating? Why do you leave me breathless? I need to be careful, very careful. You will draw me into your wild adventures, then what? I don't think even you know, do you Red?

Her friends were waiting for her in the dining hall, discussing a dashing older brother of one of the girls who had been spotted on a recent visit to the college, wondering who might catch his eye. Waverly ate her dry toast hoping it would not be her, given she had two people in her life already. "You're awfully quiet," her friend said, reaching for the jam. "Are you worried about the test today?"

"A little. I hope to do well enough."

"You will come top," her friend assured. "You always do well. You work yourself too hard. And, you think too much."

"Perhaps," she replied. "Although, that's why we're here. To sit and contemplate. To think too much."

"Quite right," her friend agreed, placing a large spoonful of jam on her bread. "But, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"But, all play and no work makes Jack a mere toy."

Her friend laughed. "You win."

A letter arrived from Nicole a few days later, informing Waverly her health was improving through daily walks and the absence of sand. She wrote she would be calling upon Jeremy and Robin on Saturday and wondered whether Waverly would like to accompany her. She complained of extreme boredom at being confined to a quiet house, with only her mother for company. She said she had taken to sleeping in the nursery, with four dolls to remind her of happier times.

She mentioned she was composing the letter at a writing desk once owned by Queen Marie-Antoinette, her bare feet resting on a carpet which came from the chapel in the Palace of Versailles. She emphasised she had counted every single clock in the house, all fifty six, for no other reason than to give her something to do, each clock telling her life was slipping through her fingers like the grains of sand she detested.

She mentioned a vase in the shape of a ship resting on the mantelpiece in the room where she was writing, believing it to be the one item which ignited her imagination, making her believe she was a pirate when younger. To sail away on such a vessel would be heaven, she wrote, in search of hidden treasure. Oh Nicole, you did that already, Waverly thought, as she read the line, and came back sick. And, here you are again wanting more adventure. You will never change. I wish you would stay still, for once, or stay in the country long enough for me to know you, not go looking for things to love elsewhere.

Waverly now faced a dilemma. James was planning to visit the same day as Nicole. Should she choose to stroll with James, or accompany Nicole? Two very different people. Polar opposites, if she was being honest. She admired James' sensible, steady nature and his intelligence. And yet, to miss out on a day with Nicole and all her tales. No, it would have to be James, she decided, imagining Nicole rolling her eyes calling her dull. Miss Sensible. She huffed, penning a letter to Nicole apologising she was unable to accompany on that particular day.

Nicole wrote back immediately suggesting they meet on the Sunday, Waverly accepting the invitation, sensing her friend was going out of her way to be in her company. It reassured her Nicole wanted to alter her plans, even by one day. It gave her a sense of autonomy, a sense of control over their friendship. For it was a friendship, of sorts.