Beginning - Book Three

five

I hesitate before I enter his room. My fingers hover around the doorknob, twitching as I urge myself to take ahold of it. No sounds come from within, and part of me worries that he is still asleep, and the destroyed barricade will still lie in pieces on the floor, ready to create a racket as soon as I push the door open. The other part of me insists that I am being stupid, for now is not the time that somebody would be dozing. Besides, it's his birthday and I have not truly spent any time with him. Bearing that glowing thought in mind, I clamp my palm onto the round of the handle and turn it with a mechanical motion of my arm, rotating the hinges with much more ease than before.

To my surprise, the room is filled with the orange tinge of dusk as the sun sinks away over the horizon. The chairs and chest of drawers used for his door blockade have been returned to their places, and his belongings have been arranged tidily around the room. A shirt hangs from a ledge of the wardrobe's exterior just as my frock had been. It is creaseless, having just been pressed I imagine. A photograph with a torn corner is propped up against the table lamp beside the bed, which has been tightly made and decorated with small pillows of various shades of ivory. Enoch sits upright against the upholstered headboard, staring out of the window with his hands in his lap. He turns to look at me as I step inside.

"You've got a nice view." I say, closing the door behind me. "Hope you don't mind me not knocking."

"Of course not." He says quietly. Too quietly. Nibbling at my lip, I walk slowly towards the bed and settle myself on the edge. He sighs loudly. "Everyone been having fun without me?"

"Not me. I've missed you. It wasn't the same." I let myself shuffle closer to him, crumpling the sheets beneath me as I move. "You could have come down, though."

"Miss Peregrine said I needed to rest." He presses his lips together, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. "She doesn't think I'm very well."

I reach for his hand, knitting our fingers together. His palm is clammy.

"She said if it happens again, she'll call the doctor." His entire form shudders, and I cannot stop myself from launching myself at him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and holding him tightly. That same feeling of dread forms a pit in my stomach as I nestle my head into his neck.

"There's nothing wrong, is there? It was just a little nightmare wasn't it?" I say into his ear, almost pleading. His fingers weakly graze against the material of my dress before I pull back, looking at him, awaiting my answer. "What were you screaming at?"

Enoch's face morphs from a neutral expression to one he would possess if I were holding a kitchen knife to his throat. His eyes become watery, a single teardrop escapes the left one. He shakes his head as it rolls down he bridge of his nose, and I can almost feel my heart ripping in two.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, cupping his face in my hands and wiping away the tear with my thumb. Bringing myself even closer, I press a kiss to the apple of his cheek, and feel his flesh burn beneath my palms. "I'm sorry."

"No, no. It's alright. Honestly, it is." He stares into my eyes, and I see tears beginning to pool and distort my vision. I don't expect him to kiss me, but he does. The teardrops spill onto my cheeks as I close my eyes, and they find their way to the corners of my mouth. I can taste the salt dissolved into the liquid, and he probably can too, but he does not pull away. Some of the guilt caused by my careless questioning melts away at his touch - I half-expected him to ask me to go, leave him in his fragility. It is some comfort that, beneath the trembling exterior, he is still my Enoch, even if he's buried under a hard layer of impenetrable illness, which I am praying to the forces above that he is not.

"Dinner will be ready soon." I remark after I've pulled my lips away. Our hands remain intertwined as I adopt a position beside him against the headboard. It is almost dark outside now. "Will you come down?"

"No. I will tomorrow - tonight's not the night." He murmurs, reaching to switch on the bedside lamp. "I reckon Miss Peregrine will want me to get an early night."

"You sound like a little boy." I tease. "Do you need somebody to tuck you in and bring you some hot milk?"

"Shut up, you." He retorts with an airy, weak chuckle. "I'll be fine tomorrow."

I hope so, I think to myself. I couldn't bear walking in to his cries again. It baffles me how someone can have such a gentlemanly temperament one moment, then become virtually another man the next. Before I can descend too deep into thought, the sound of the bell, which had previously called us for lunch, chimes from downstairs. It's time for supper.

"I'll pop down and get your plate for you." I tell him, scrambling from the bed.

"You'll come back, won't you?" A childish tone weaves itself into his voice as he leans forward, almost following me as I walk towards the door.

"They might not let me-"

"Please."

"I'll try my best." I grin back at him, and head down to the dining room.

When I arrive, not everybody is in their seats yet. Emma and Jake wait patiently with full plates, leaning close together. Claire sneaks a slice of carrot beneath her hair, and I see a few orange fragments fall down the back of her chair. Miss Peregrine stands at the door clutching a goblet of something. I catch her eye, and plaster the sweetest smile that I can muster across my mouth.

"Good evening, Violet." She says, her voice tranquil, smoother than velvet.

"Evening, Miss Peregrine." My brain races to come up with a way to inconspicuously bring up the subject. "Will Enoch be eating with us tonight?"

"I think not. He's been on strict bed rest all day. He'll eat upstairs, I think."

"Can I take it, Miss Peregrine? His meal? I haven't seen him since this morning." I lie, feeling a pang of guilt inside my chest.

"Actually, Violet, I believe it's just been taken up to him." She replies with a small smirk playing on her thin lips. "I'd had thought you would have passed the deliverer seeing as you were just in his bedroom."

My face falls, and I realise I have been well and truly caught out, once again proving that nothing gets past her - I should have known better.

"On this occasion - and this occasion only - I will allow you to dine upstairs with Enoch, because I know full well that's what you came to ask for, Miss le Doré." Her grin is unfaltering, although a definite sense of fondness lingers in her large eyes, so much so that I no longer feel as if I am in trouble. "You really are like your aunt, aren't you? Now, take your plate and away with you!"

Obediently, I scurry past the imposing stature of Miss Peregrine and scoop the plate into my hands. Mashed potatoes, a slab of pale meat and a pond's worth of gravy threaten to spill over the lip of the plate, so I slow my pace as I exit the dining room with a subdued sense of accomplishment. If I had used my own powers of persuasion, perhaps I would feel even more victorious.

My eyes do not leave the pile of food as I ascend the staircase. Between gripping my cutlery in one hand and just about bearing the intense heat of the warmed plate against my fingertips, it is an arduous task to try and keep the meal level and balanced. However, despite the odds, I make it back to Enoch's bedroom door without leaving more than a single spot of gravy on the carpet behind me. I support the base of the salver on my knee whilst I turn the doorknob, regaining my grip on the edge quickly enough to stumble inside without any spillages.

There are two people sitting on the bed. Enoch has not moved from his spot beside the headboard. A tray sits on his crossed legs, containing an array of food not dissimilar from the one I have in my grasp, a glass of water and a bowl of what look to be cherries. Beside him, a head of blonde hair pivots on a slender neck to peer at me from afar. The skirt of a washed-out pink frock drapes over the duvet in dainty little waves, and her teeth somehow still appear to shine in the dim lights as she beams at me.

"Well, it seems that your dining partner has arrived, Enoch. I best be off, then." Her sugary voice makes my ears ring. She slides from the mattress and glides towards the door as if on ice skates "I'll see you both in the morning. Enjoy your dinner, darlings!"