𝙸𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙴. ➪ 𝙴. 𝙿𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚎

𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗

Susan, now 27, sat in the dining room of Phillis' home. Phillis, who was now 25, carried in the birthday cake. It was white with a big blue '5' on top. It was Enoch's birthday. Enid was to turn four at the end of the year. "Do you feel any different?" Susan asked the brown-haired boy.
"Not yet," he giggled his joyous giggle.
"Are you going to blow out your candles?" Phillis said, though it wasn't particularly a question.
He blew the flames from the top of the small wax pillars. Phillis removed the candles and tossed them in the bin. She cut everyone a small slice of birthday cake. They'd planned to drive out of London and look at the stars for a couple of hours as soon as it began to get dark and Enoch was beyond excited. He'd been waiting to get a proper look at the stars all week. Enid huffed, stomping back to her spot on the sofa after she'd finished eating up her birthday cake. "Right," said Phillis, standing. "I'll go get changed and then we'll leave."

Phillis stood in her bedroom, looking at the right side of the bed from her mirror - it had always been Edmund's side. She had changed into a green jumper and tan slacks. She did up her hair, occasionally glancing back at a greying Rum. He was particularly old now. Enoch and Enid had insisted that they bring the family cat with them to admire the stars as they 'didn't want him to get left behind'. The sun had been out that day and it had been incredibly warm. So, Enoch and Enid had played in the back garden whilst Susan and Phillis sat on the bench in the garden and talked over a glass of fine wine. They were all eager to get out as it had been the first sunny day after about two weeks of nonstop rain and storm.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Phillis traced her delicate fingers along her Narnian scars. With the loss of Edmund, her nightmares had been getting increasingly worse and her self esteem seemed to lower everyday. It was hard waking up in the middle of the night in a sweat after a horrible dream, and Eddie not being there. She had no one to tell her it was okay and that they were never going to leave her. But he had. He had left her. He broke his promise.

When she was dressed, she rushed downstairs, carrying Rum. She grabbed a coat and met Susan, Enid and Enoch by the front door. They all made the small journey to Susan's car, clambering in. The two children sat in the back with Rum, whilst Susan and Phillis sat in the front of the car. They set off towards their decided stargazing spot.

Little had changed in the three years we've missed. Phillis had released four more books. They'd become popular, in a way, for their strange little messages at the start.
It had been, Where the Cherry Blossoms Couldn't Grow:

To the great Western Wood,
for my Eddie
Who taught me that everything
that has been wronged can always
be fixed. And that Turkish Delight
isn't as good as he says it is.

Then, in Constellations Between Our World and the Next, it had been:

For Professor Kirke,
who taught me everything I
need to know about our world
and the next.