Beginning - Book Three

eight

The terrors didn't stop. I could hear them now - they seemed to get louder with every passing night. They were blood-churning; I curled up beneath my duvet and covered my ears when they began. Knowing that there was nothing I could do to help him felt painful, and it took every ounce of my being to remain in my bedroom, to stop myself from charging down the hallway into his arms. There were several evenings where he didn't attend dinner, and his seat was always vacant during breakfast. Although I wouldn't be allowed to eat away from the dining room again, I still dedicated many of my waking hours to be with him, reading him passages from our favourite books and talking about the happenings within the house that day. After dinners, I would visit him briefly before retreating to my own bedroom, drunk with the hope that, by some miracle, that night would be better than the last. It never was.

Miss Peregrine didn't call a doctor until a ten days had passed since we arrived here. Enoch made a weak attempt to protest; he claimed that there was nothing wrong with him, that they were just bad dreams.

"Nightmares don't make somebody scream through the night, Enoch." I had told him, perched on the edge of his mattress, clasping his hand between my palms.

I noticed how pale he was getting. Puffy bags now hang beneath those dark eyes of his, which have become fogged and dull. He has only bathed once since we got here, and rarely gets changed from his pyjamas. Miss Peregrine had to unpack his trunk for him - I watched on, grimacing as she plucked the bag of hearts from his cardigan pocket and dropped them into the dustbin. She shook her head, pushing her lips together - the sort of expression my mother used to make when I didn't make my bed or polish my shoes. In her eyes, Enoch had shrunk back to the small boy she knew when he first came into her care - somebody to clean up after and wait upon.

Olive and I listened to her speaking into the telephone after dialling the medical practice in the village.

"Hello? Yes, good morning." She spoke clearly, focusing her eyes on something upon the side table before her. "I am calling from the Estate... yes... no, my name is Alma Peregrine... yes."

The two of us edged further into the hallway, being extremely careful not to make a sound. I am certain she would not have wanted us hearing - she never liked us to hear any telephone call of hers.

"We have a twenty-year-old male here; he appears to be having some sort of night terror which means he is creating disturbances in his sleep... yes... his name is Enoch O'Connor."

Miss Peregrine turned on her heel, forcing Olive and I to scuttle from the doorway. I still, however, managed to catch the tail-end of the conversation.

"He completed service, yes. Could that be a contributor? Certainly... of course. I shall see you then. Good day, sir."

*

I stand at the bottom of the stairs alongside the headmistress. A tall, blonde-haired man has just entered through the imposing front doors. He sports a thick moustache, under which hides a slim, downturned mouth. His face has creased with age, and he walks with an odd limp as he approaches with an outstretched hand.

"You must be Alma Peregrine, correct?" His voice is low, smooth, yet somewhat unsettling. I am reminded of an antagonist from one of my books. He shakes Miss Peregrine's hand so vigorously, her slim wrist looks very fragile all of a sudden. "Pleasure to meet you. I am Doctor Rosebury, we spoke on the telephone."

"Thank you for being here." Miss Peregrine replies. "May I introduce Violet le Doré, a good friend of our patient."

A good friend.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss le Doré." He extends that wrinkled hand to me, and I shake it gingerly. "Your last name sounds very French, is that your heritage?"

"I-" I am not sure how to answer him. "I'm... I'm not too sure. Quite possibly, I mean-"

"Why don't I take you upstairs, doctor?" Miss Peregrine cuts in, saving me from my own stuttering.

"Of course, of course." He says, his voice almost becoming a snake's hiss as they begin to ascend the staircase. His eyes linger on me for a moment as he passes, and I turn my head away. I follow a good distance behind them - the stranger strikes me as a very odd character; I wouldn't especially like to be around him much longer.

Enoch's bedroom is perhaps dingier than it has ever been. I make sure to wait until both Miss Peregrine and the doctor have entered the bedroom before I make my way through the door.

"Violet," The headmistress' disembodied voice rings from within the darkness. "Perhaps it would be better if you waited outside."

"Er- alright." I splutter. It feels strange to leave the boy I love with somebody who I couldn't have less faith in.

"Yes, Violet. Your friend here might find it easier to tell me what he's feeling without another presence here." Doctor Rosebury has appeared in the doorway from the abyss. He flashes me a somewhat grotesque smile as he shuts the door, separating me from whatever is happening within.

I linger outside for a minute or two, ear pressed to the door. Not a sound comes from inside.