Wenclair - a New Term at Nevermore

Chapter 95

Click-clack.

The sound of Wednesday's typewriting had, over the course of the time they spent together, become soothing to Enid; and good job too, or she might have gone insane. It went well with the sound of pencils gently clattering as Enid picked out new colours for the fan-art she was drawing; the archaic sounds of creativity, transported through time.

Click-clack.

Enid should really have been packing. Wednesday's things were already mostly in boxes and bags, and - reportedly - so were Yoko's (although Enid had decided not to believe it until she saw it, generally distrusting Yoko on matters of claimed organisation). Even Thing had packed up whatever he kept in that nest of his, into a couple of pouches with a clever opening mechanism operable by one hand.

Click-clack.

The sound of typing was interrupted by Enid's upbeat ringtone, but Enid's heart dropped into her fluffy sheep slippers when she saw who was calling. Deciding that to decline the call would be a cardinal sin, Enid answered, hurrying out to the balcony and shutting the window behind her so that, if necessary, she could scream into the cavernous night; Enid found that much more therapeutic than burying the face into the unyielding surface of a deceptively comfortable pillow.

"Enid? I would like to have a serious word with you."

"Go ahead."

"Although, as you well know, I stay away from the brain-rot of social media, your brothers make sure to keep me updated on what information you are giving out for whatever strangers might be out there to see." A pause. "Enid. Answer me when I talk to you!"

"I'm listening."

"Don't give me that attitude! You're on thin ice anyway, staying anywhere near the Addams girl, and even claiming -" Esther switched to a strained whisper - "That she is your... girl... friend."

Emotionlessly, Enid replied, "Oh dear me. I hadn't noticed."

"You're lucky I could gather the resolve to dial your number! I am your mother, and I have done nothing but nurture you for all sixteen years of your privileged life, and yet you shower me with disrespect. Am I a bad mother? Is that why you hate me so much?"

It seemed a little far to say yes, a little people-pleasing to say no, and risky to not reply, so Enid said, "I don't hate you."

Esther seemed to be full-on sobbing down the phone now. "I don't even know if I can see you the same any more! When you step through the door, will I see the daughter I loved?"

"My hair's a bit different, I guess."

"There it is again! The attitude! You know, honey, I really didn't want to resort to this, but I might have to pull you out of Nevermore. It's changed you so much. Maybe that nice Mr Henley might accept you into his forest school - you know, the Mr Henley we saw when you were twelve."

"The guy that claimed he could fix eating disorders with two months of hiking?"

"It might instil some good values back into you, Enid honey. Get you away from all the brainwashing, prepare you for a good healthy marriage. You know, Mrs Crawley's son is just your age, and he seems really nice. He's going into accounting, dear."

Enid had to stop herself from audibly retching - the last she'd seen, Benjamin Crawley was tall, gangly, and always sniffing due to a perpetual cold. He was also failing Maths, if she could remember correctly. "How about you stop trying to arrange marriages?"

Back to the crying. "I don't even know what I'm going to do! How am I going to see you back for the holiday? Maybe it would be better if you stayed at Nevermore for this half term. I need to process what's happening."

"I'd love to." Before Enid could change her mind, she hung up and strode back through the dormitory, tossing her phone so angrily onto her bed that it slid down the far side and clattered on the floor. It would be a pain to reach down and try to grab it amongst the cobwebs later, but Enid disregarded this, and continued on to Miss Nicolas' office.