Dreamer's Ball [ENOLA HOLMES]

eight; if it wasn't for the nights

chapter eight; if it wasn't for the nights

A train whistle zooming by and humming filled the small room Enola and Amélie shared. This noise came from Amélie as she sat on the nook windowsill and sketched in her sketchbook. Her pen retraced the lines of the man they'd ran into yesterday so her picture was clearer than her messy lines. Upon night falling, Amélie grew slightly homesick. The guilt of thinking about her brother was eating away at her. Along with the fact of leaving Pierre and Tewkesbury and being stuck in a brothel-like place, she had ever right to be not in the right state of mind. It was her heart that made her feel emotions so deeply, but sketching was an outlet of release. It occupied her time, helped her concentrate her emotions and made her feel like she was at home a bit more.

She glanced up and noticed Enola was behind the folder as she was changing into her nightgown. Amélie took this opportunity to switch to her drawing of the other girl. Not that she was trying to be creepy, as more she thought about it, it may have appeared that way. It was because Enola was changing, she wouldn't be able to see Amélie was drawing (as Enola tended to sit by Amélie  while she drew.) The sketch was nearly completed. All she had left was to outline the features and possibly color it in. Amélie thought it to be perfect. It reflected Enola's spirit in the eyes, and her dimples were just so cute and-and—

"What are you drawing?" Enola leaned over Amélie's shoulder, trying to get a glimpse at the drawing. Amélie jumped at the sudden voice, immediately recognizing it to be Enola. She finished quicker than Amélie thought she would... She couldn't see the picture! The Bissonnette girl fumbled with the sketchbook and quickly flipped the page, pretending that Enola just startled her and not that she didn't want her to see the picture. The page she flipped to was her drawing of the bowler hat man. "I-uh..." She nervously giggled, "It's nothing. J-just that man we ran into with the boys. L-like a police sketch?"

Enola simply nodded her head and didn't ask more questions. Instead, she grabbed her scrabble pieces and sat down on the bed. "Now since we've got some peace and quiet to think, it's time for phase five of the plan." She announced, dumping the scrabble word pieces onto the bed, spreading them out to see each letter, "or possibly phase four." Confusion flooded the Holmes girl as she thought about her own plan. How could she forget her own plan? Well, as much as Enola liked plans, she tended to forget them if she didn't think about them... and this last day was sidetracking on a current part of the plan. Enola sat upright and faced Amélie sitting at the window sill, "or possibly phase six? I've entirely lost count. Amélie, do you remember?"

Of course Amélie remembered. She always tried to remember important things Enola told her. In this case, she knew how important this journey was to Enola, so she wrote the entire thing down in the back of the sketchbook! Amélie turned through her pages till she got to the one where the entire plan was written out, step by step. She scanned her finger down the pages and tapped on the certain line where the plan was currently at, "phase three was making it to London, though sidetracked, it got completed. We're in phase four."