Healing - Book One

nine

Needless to say, the atmosphere is a tad awkward over the dinner table after my encounter with Enoch. I make sure to turn my head away from his general direction in case he's looking at me. The sun begins to set, sending beams of orange and pink through the lattice doors as we munch away on a supper of roast chicken and vegetables from Fiona's garden. I lean back in my chair in an attempt to hide myself from his cold glares - one of which I received upon my entrance to the dining room not too long ago.

"When will you make a new loop, Miss Peregrine?" Bronwyn chimes from her seat.

"Soon. When I feel the time is suitable, I shall inform you all." The headmistress states; a ripple of reassured head nods moves around the table. I tilt my head forward and let my hair fall around my face, for a moment believing that I'm completely hidden. However I wonder how much longer I can sugarcoat my disgust at what I saw earlier - it was gruesome.

My mission does turn out to be successful, as I survive the remainder of the meal without being frozen by a pair of almost black eyes. Miss Peregrine herds us into the living room, where she pulls up a rogue armchair parallel to the fireplace. Following everybody else's lead, I take a seat on the far end of one furnishing and look around the room, waiting for something to happen.

All of a sudden, a large beam of blue-tinged light flies from the armchair at the other end of the room and stretches across the wall above the fireplace. My mouth falls open a little when I spot Horace at the source of the beam; his eye appears to be encased in a small, brass contraption which is projecting onto the wall. An image begins to form before our eyes - this must be the dreams I was told about earlier in the day. Horace himself appears within the image - his being is surrounded by a surreal peach-coloured glow. He stands before a display of neatly-folded shirts in every colour you can imagine. He traces his fingers along the buttons and collars, before selecting a salmon-pink pinstripe garment. Before the scene can continue, it dissolves into another one. This time, pebbles on a beach shine in the apparent moonlight - the sky is scattered with stars which shimmer spectacularly. On the stones sit two figures, their appearances unclear due to their silhouetted state. They face each other, their bodies close and faces closer. I can make out a hand from one of them sliding onto the other's neck - that's when the gap between their faces closes.

To say I am intrigued by this image is an understatement. I'm disappointed when it spirals into nothingness and the light switch is flicked back on. Horace disconnects his monocle and tucks it into his waistcoat pocket. Miss Peregrine still has a finger on the switch.

"That's enough for tonight children." She says sharply. "Olive, Violet and Enoch - you three are in charge of cleaning up while we get everybody tucked in." She extends her arms and herds away a few of the younger ones, leaving the three of us little choice but to be burdened with the washing up.

I get started immediately by stacking the plates from the table, eager to avoid conversing with 'misery guts'. Not that he'd speak to me anyway.

They pass me into the kitchen while I try and avoid getting leftover gravy on my fingers. Balancing numerous plates and sets of cutlery, I shuffle into the kitchen and cautiously slide the tower onto the sink's draining board. I can already feel a pair of eyes on my back, so I turn and stare right back at him.

"Those plates aren't going to wash themselves." He snarls.

"Maybe if you stopped harassing me I'd be able to clean them." I hiss back, before spinning back around to face the sink. My hair flicks marvellously - closing the conversation.

I don't hear another word directed towards me while I wash up. However, I do hear an odd conversation between the other two.

"Let me come into the village with you tomorrow Enoch." Olive chirps as she puts away some freshly cleaned cutlery.

"Don't bother. I'm not doing much." He grunts from behind me. I dare not try and join their speaking.

"Why not! You won't let me come anywhere with you since we came off the boat-"

"Olive, you don't have to be my shadow. You follow me around enough as it is."

"But I don't understand! I thought you liked me!" She whines; her tone is becoming irritating.

"Olive, for gods sake. I like you as my friend." His voice is raising. "I just wish you'd leave me alone for a little while!" With that, I hear heavy footsteps storming from the room.

Olive sheepishly returns to her position beside the sink. When I turn to her, she refuses to meet my eyes. Her cheeks have a wet sheen, like she's just wiped away tears.