Beginning - Book Three

nine

Miss Peregrine appears in the doorway of Olive's bedroom. I had retreated there after perhaps half an hour of waiting outside Enoch's door, having heard nothing from beyond the walls. Olive had been attempting to distract me with some women's journals which Catherine had brought to the drawing room downstairs, fresh from the nearby newsagent's.

"There's all sorts in there about Christmas." She'd said, sitting me down on her bed and thrusting one of the magazines open before me. "They're saying this will be one of the best ones that we've had in years."

"Well, that shouldn't be difficult. We haven't got a war to contend with this time." I said sarcastically. "Apart from everything still being rationed, obviously."

"Well, this is the thing. I've heard that people are trying to save up their points so they can make it a smasher. Oh-"

She trails off when she spots the headmistress, and gives me a nod. I brush my fingers against her knuckles, trying to show some appreciation for her efforts, and slide from the bed.

"Has the doctor left? I ask as we begin our journey back to Enoch's bedroom.

"Yes, he has. I got the impression that you didn't like him much." She smirks at me as we walk, looking as though she may be suppressing laughter.

"I don't know, it's just that he made me feel strange - I can't pinpoint it exactly, Miss Peregrine."

"You read like a book, my dear. It's not your fault, but perhaps something you may learn to control. Anyhow," We have reached Enoch's door, and Miss Peregrine lowers her tone considerably. "What Enoch has been experiencing are night terrors, brought on by what he saw whilst he was away. He's having vivid, detailed dreams about what happened on the battlefield."

"Oh, god!" I gasp, my hand rushes towards my mouth and I begin to gnaw on my fingernails.

"The doctor said they were very common in soldiers after the first war, so it is not a surprise that they're showing up in our Enoch."

"Is there anything they can do?" I bleat, my brows furrowing, creating deep creases across my forehead. "Could I do something? I've never tried before but-"

"Nothing major can be done, I'm afraid, Violet. It's a psychological issue, and the hope is that he may grow out of them. It may be the case that we have to wait for them to pass. But," She grabs hold of my hands and brings them up level to her chest. "All you can do is be there for him, alright? Don't go trying to heal him; goodness only knows what would happen if something was to go awry. You would mean well, but we don't know what could happen. Do you understand me, Violet?"

"I do." I reply sheepishly  "May I see him?"

"Of course you can, but make sure that you're downstairs in time for supper. See if you could get him to eat with us, would you?" She begins to walk away towards the staircase. "It's about time he tried to adapt into a normal routine."

"I'll try my best." I shout after her, closing my fingers around the door handle and giving it a shove to open it. Inside, Enoch stands at the window, hands in the pockets of his trousers, appearing as nothing more than a silhouette in the blinding light of the afternoon sunshine. He doesn't turn around as I close the door behind me.

I advance further into the room. The door to the bathroom is open, and the light inside has been left switched on. The bed has been properly made for the first time in days, but Enoch's silk pyjama trousers lie in a heap beside the nightstand, abandoned. As I move to join him at the window, I watch a gardener pruning the spherical hedges which line a gravel path. They form two uniform lines either side of the track, which leads to a stone archway hidden amongst climbing roses. I would love to know what lies beyond.

"How are you feeling?" I ask, my voice almost a whisper. 

"There's something wrong with me, Violet." He murmurs, not moving his stare from a fixed point in the distance. "Very wrong."

"It isn't your fault, Miss Peregrine said it's common amongst soldiers."

"So she's going around telling everybody, is she?" His tone becomes spiked with hostility - I recognise it from when we first met, and something within me sinks.

"No, no. She only told me because she knows I care. Besides," I turn to face him, moving my head towards his in an effort to make eye contact. "It isn't anything to be ashamed of."]

"Nothing to be ashamed of? Really? Is that why boys who come back and have nightmares get thrown into the lunatic houses, get told that they're going round the twist?" He throws his arms over his chest as his voice begins to raise. "I'm already considered a freak by most, why not throw in a blasted mental disorder into the mix as well? Oh yeah, that'll really top it all off!"

"You mustn't talk like that, Enoch, you're-"

"I'm what, Violet? What am I?" He is almost shouting now, and stalks away from the window to the other side of the bedroom. "Mad? You think I'm mad, don't you?"

"I never said that!" My own tone rises to match his, I feel my blood beginning to boil in my veins, pulsing through my body with such force that I am able to feel it within my skull. 

"But you think it, don't you? Everyone else does, so why wouldn't you? Come to think of it, are you sure you want to be stuck with a maniac?"

"Stop it! Please stop it this instant!" My voice cracks with emotion. "You're talking nonsense!"

"There it is! Nonsense! You think I'm a nutter, Violet!"

"I don't!"

"Oh, you'd be thick not to! Screaming in my sleep isn't exactly normal, is it?" He sounds hysterical, his words broken by crazed laughs. "Well, don't feel obliged to stick around, I wouldn't want to be around somebody like me either."

It felt as though he had plunged his fist into my stomach. My rage erupted from me like ash bursting from the mouth of a volcano, uncontrollable. My eyes stung with tears of anger as  I march towards him, bringing my face close to his, nose to nose.

"Don't you ever put words into my mouth." I growl through gritted teeth. "Don't you dare question how I feel."

"Violet-"

"No!" I shriek, pushing past him towards the door. I storm into the corridor and charged in the direction of my bedroom. Enoch calls after me, but I refuse to turn back to him. Never before have I felt so upset with him. How could he be so callous? How could he ever believe that I thought he was insane? Tears drip to the end of my chin as I pass into the main hallway and, out of the corner of my eye, I see Florence gliding up the staircase. She calls my name, forcing my legs to break into a run. My sobs seem to echo around the house until I reach the safety of my room. I still hear the calls as I lean against the door, hiding my face in my hands.