Violet - Book Two

seventeen

"I need you to tell me honestly!" I shout from inside my bedroom.

"Why wouldn't I?" Enoch exclaims back. He's been sat in the corridor waiting for me to change. I wanted his opinion on a dress, as I was not too keen on the one I originally wanted to wear. I have changed into a bright white tea dress with a tulle petticoat underneath so it would stick out beyond my hips. The tweed jacket Enoch had bought me is draped over my shoulders. Satisfied, I poke my head outside - he still sits patiently.

"Ready?"

He nods, and I open the door fully to reveal my outfit ensemble. His eyes trace up and down, and a tiny smile creeps across his lips.

"You look stunning."

I smile shyly, twirling a strand of hair around my finger as if we'd just met.

"What will your parents think?"

"Don't worry about them." He gets up as he speaks and envelopes me in his arms. He's dressed up too - wearing a green waistcoat over a grey shirt. He has rolled up his sleeves - so that his slightly scruffy side isn't all lost.

"I never thought I'd see you in a bow tie, Enoch." I tease, fiddling with the knot of fabric which matches his waistcoat.

"Exceptions have to be made." He replies, raising a brow. His mouth finds its way to mine and he kisses me tenderly for a moment.

"Someone's here!" Fiona shouts from downstairs, forcing us away from each other.

Over Enoch's shoulder I can see Olive and Hugh scurrying from their bedrooms and making for the stairs. They too are in their formal wear.

"Let's go." I say, taking his hand.

We descend the staircase together, and detach fingers once we reach the bottom. The front door is open, revealing the line of our housemates stood up the path ready the welcome parents. I scuttle ahead and settle myself beside Hugh at the end of the line, closely followed by Enoch.

At the end of the garden path, Miss Peregrine walks alongside two middle aged strangers. They are both dressed well, in rather neutral colours. The man has a mousey beard and his hair hidden by a beige flatcap. Circular glasses make him resemble a mole with excessive facial hair. The woman dresses in a tea dress similar to my own, and a straw hat perched atop her dark bob. Her eyes dart up and down the line until she spots her child.

"Hugh!" She says, almost in a whisper, before striding ahead of her husband in our direction.

Next to me, Hugh gives his mother a tiny smile before she squashed him between her frail arms. They look as if they'll snap at any force too strong. His father too is slim, perhaps not to the extent of his wife. He shakes his son by the hand and greets him in a hushed voice.

"Hugh will take you through to the garden now." Miss Peregrine chimes in above the odd mumbling. Hugh obeys, leading the way past Enoch and I, widening his eyes at us as he goes. I shuffle up to Olive to take Hugh's spot. She twiddles her thumbs, and appears nervous.

It isn't long before the gate opens once again, this time to allow in just one person. Miss Peregrine appears to know this woman better, as she offers her an amicable embrace upon entry. The woman is fairly substantial, with a large face and large hands extending from her blouse sleeves. She holds a head of curls which fan out around her face, but her eyes are sad, and her mouth is an emotionless line, even when she catches sight of her daughter.

"Hello, mother." Bronwyn steps forward, and wraps her arms around her mother's waist. It looks like her embrace is weak, as if she doesn't want to hurt her.

The woman touches Bronwyn's shoulders but doesn't say a word to anyone. Her daughter takes her hand loosely and leads her up the steps, chatting away to her mother although not receiving much of a response.

Closely following Mrs Bruntley's arrival, enters a man and a woman. Both are dressed in dark colours, and stand a questionably large distance from one another. The man has dark curls and a sizeable moustache sitting beneath his nose; the woman has a cascading mane of golden locks and striking brown eyes. Neither of them return the headmistress' greeting as they step through the garden gate.

"Shit." I hear Enoch mutter beneath his breath. I could have guessed that these people were, in fact, his parents. I touch his arm subtly in an attempt to comfort him.

The man, or rather the 'walking moustache', approaches his son with seemingly lifeless eyes. He stands before him, not even shaking hands with his own flesh and blood. I watch the bizarre event unfold with some alarm.

"You're a brave young man." He eventually says. His voice is even deeper than Enoch's, perhaps even more northern.

"You'd have done the same." Enoch replies. His voice is monotone - I sensed the two hadn't got on in the past from what Enoch told me, but I had not realised it was to this blunt extent.

His father nods and walks away into the house, just as his mother bustles into his place.

"Hello, darling." She puts a bony hand on his cheek, and fixes a stray curl with the other. I notice that his mother is not from Scotland, for she does not have the same accent as her husband and son.

"Hello." Enoch smiles at his mother and allows her to kiss his cheek. She places a hand on his back and the two trace the man's path into the house. At the last moment, Enoch turns his head and looks me straight in the eyes, before disappearing through the open door.