Healing - Book One

twenty five

After a lush birthday breakfast of sausages, bacon and fried eggs, Miss Peregrine set many of us the task of adorning the garden with coloured bunting and paper spirals which hung from the tree branches. All the while I could see Enoch on the garden bench, unable to move as he was consistently bombarded with congratulations and unsolicited embraces which - I could tell from his expression - he was reluctant to accept. He meets my eyes once or twice when I turn away from my decorating, each time making himself beam at me.

I descend from my step ladder under the tree when Emma shouts my name from the kitchen. My slip-ons flap on and off my heel as I briskly walk across the garden and enter the house through the conservatory.

"Right, Vi." Emma addresses me while I walk through the doorframe. Olive, who stands in the corner turned away, straightens up and turns around with a large iced gateaux on a platter in her palms. "You are carrying the cake outside."

"Oh, alright."

"You're his favourite - he'll like it." Emma says, beckoning Olive forward. She places the plate into my hands and steps back as if she's passed over a sacred object. Emma pushes a single candle into the icing and Olive reaches forward, lighting it with her suddenly exposed fingertip. "Now go! We'll follow."

Balancing the cake as she gently shoves me into position. I robotically march from the door and stand at the top of the steps. The heads of all the children beneath me snap into a uniform gaze and several "ooh"s and sounds of imaginative enjoyment flood my ears. Enoch's face emerges from the flurry of children, his cheeks pink and his pressed lips curled into a shy smile.

While I descend the stairs, I repeat my somewhat haunting rendition of the birthday song, letting my voice linger on every last word of each line. Not a sound escapes any of the children.

I approach the group and a little path forms among them for me to get to the birthday boy. His smile grows so that his eyes appear squinted. I lower myself down beside him on the bench and pass him the plate; the candle flickers, making me worried it will go out. Enoch holds the cake in front of him while I finish the song, and for a few seconds after.

"Make a wish." I whisper, leaning in to him a little.

"You believe in all that bollocks?" He mutters back, looking at me directly in the eye.

"Most certainly. Go on, don't be a spoilsport."

Enoch sighs, then takes a deep breath and exhales over the tiny flame. It is snuffed out.

"What was your wish?"

Enoch smirks and shakes his head.

"If I were to tell you that, Violet, it wouldn't come true."

The cake is chocolate flavoured, and delicious. All of us sit in a circle and have a equal slice each. Claire's cheeks are smothered in chocolate icing and the twins manoeuvre their forks under their hoods. Miss Peregrine stands tall over us, scraping away the frosting with her finger and placing the velvety dollops in her mouth.

"Beautiful cake, Olive." She says, covering her mouth while she breaks one of her many rules of etiquette.

I still sit beside the scot on the bench. He is acting more ladylike than me, nibbling at his slice in small morsels while I, the lady, wolf down my portion in a few mouthfuls. Fiona and Bronwyn giggle through crumby mouths when Miss Peregrine frowns at me. However, after my innocent smile, she softens.

The group disperses, the younger ones ploughing towards the football and the toy box and I retreat to the picnic table with a new book from the living room - 'A Haunted House and Other Short Stories' by Virginia Woolf. Enoch settles himself beside me and basks in the back-end autumn sunlight. Occasionally he will peer over my shoulder and make a comment about an extract which attracted his eye.

"I always thought short stories were for children." He says, running a hand through his hair. "And I'm no longer a child."

"Of course you're not." I say, my voice thick with sarcasm. "You should read this, even if you are a man now." I nudge him playfully, and I feel his palm fall onto my knee, making metaphorical butterflies erupt into my stomach.

"I can technically buy m'self a house." He sits up straight and looks thoughtfully at the ivy crawling up the garden wall.

"You can legally buy a drink too." I add, chuckling when he smirks.

"And join the army."

There is an uncomfortable silence for a couple of seconds after his statement. Not quite realising what he means yet, I look up from my book to find that he is looking at me right in the eyes. Small coils of my hair blow in the breeze into my peripherals.

"Yes?" I say, wondering about the odd look he is giving me. Our noses are almost touching.

"I can legally enlist."

"But you're not going to?"

My heart drops as his gaze persists. I can already tell what he is going to say.

"I'm sorry, Vi. I went..." He exhales deeply as the realisation sinks into me. "I went into the village - the town hall -"

I raise a shaking hand to my mouth. I have read the stories, the horrors of the battlefield. Enoch cannot possibly go out there. Hot tears brew on my waterline and one or two fall down my cheeks.

"Please don't get upset, Violet, please don't." He wipes away one of my tears with his thumb. "I had to. It's the duty of every eligible-"

Before he can finish, I lunge across the bench and throw my arms around his neck, digging my nails into the wool of his jumper. He pulls me close to him with his arms and allows me to sob into his shoulder. I may well lose him.

"Please don't leave me."