Darling Girl: A Novel of Peter Pan(70)

Holly already knows what Jane will say next.

“She fought hard for every role, but she also protected the younger dancers. Kept an eye on them. Helped them out.” Jane looks up at Holly. “We all called her the Tiger.”

Holly closes her eyes, but Jane’s not done.

“Then your father had a cousin, bit of an eccentric, from an old Cornwall family. Roger Smee.”

“How much do we really know about Neverland?” Holly asks quietly. “How much do we know about its rules—if it has any—and its connection to our world? About all the ways from here to there?”

“Not enough, it seems. Mother never liked to talk about it.”

Holly thinks back to what Jane has told her about meeting Barrie. How he’d called Peter a “nice chap.” She wonders if it’s how Wendy described him. It’s certainly not how she would.

“How accurate do you think Sir James was, when he recorded her stories?”

Jane shrugs again. “I have no idea. And at this point, there’s no way to find out. Mother, her siblings, and Barrie are the only ones who knew, and they’re all gone.”

There is one other person who knows, Holly thinks. But she’s not willing to say his name right now, and apparently neither is her mother. So they sit in silence in the slowly darkening room, nursing their drinks and staring at each other, each thinking the same thought.

Peter knows.



* * *





That night, Holly dreams she is on top of the roof, looking at the stars. She used to climb on the roof when she was younger—pull herself out the window, balance on the railing, then swing herself up. To find herself there again is pleasant. In the dream, she’s stretched out on her back looking at a thousand golden stars, and they are as familiar and welcoming as family. When she comes back inside, one of the stars follows her through the window. It’s upset or worried, Holly can tell. It’s trying to warn her about something, but Holly is too tired to open her eyes. Besides, everything it says sounds like tiny bells and she can’t understand it. The star stands beside her bed for a long time, and then it disappears.

Holly wakes with a start. In the dark, there’s the faintest scattering of golden glitter about the room. It leads from the window to her bed, from her bed to the door. She could almost be imagining it because even as she sees it, it starts to fade. At first she thinks she’s still dreaming. But then she realizes where the trail must lead.

Jack.

She’s on her feet before she’s fully awake, and then she’s running down the hall and to the steps, following the faint iridescent glow. The glow leads to his room, is brightest next to his bed. She panics, ripping at the covers, pulling them back.

“Jack?”

He’s asleep. His skin is flushed, but when she puts her lips against his forehead, there’s no fever. She checks his face, checks everywhere she can see. There’s a new scar on his left wrist. Even as she notices it, it’s healing, vanishing in front of her eyes.

“Jack?” She shakes his shoulder.

“I had the strangest dream,” he murmurs. He opens his eyes, closes them again, snuggles deeper into the sheets. “A beautiful girl was standing over me.” He frowns, opens his eyes again.

“She was telling me about a pirate ship. And she called me the funniest thing. An insect, I think. A bee?” He looks up at Holly. “That’s not right.”

“A flea,” she says without thinking. “Because you were always underfoot, always attached to her. She used to call you Flea.”

They stare at each other in the dark. The golden light is fading. In another second it will be gone.

“Go to sleep,” she says unsteadily. She can’t tell either of them it was only a dream. “Do you want me to stay here with you tonight?”

He shakes his head. She’s about to tell him it’s okay, to reach out and caress his head, when she catches sight of his eyes. Just before the last bit of golden light winks out, she realizes that he is afraid.

But not of Eden. Of her.



* * *





She can’t go back to sleep. She turns the dream over and over in her mind. The sound of bells. The eerie glow. The impression of someone standing over her. She doesn’t know whether to nail the nursery window shut or throw it wide open in welcome. If it was truly Eden, how did she get here? What did she want? And why didn’t she stay? Holly thinks of that new scar on Jack’s wrist and shivers.

She’s the first one in the kitchen in the morning, ahead of even Jane. She makes tea, then decides there is no point in postponing the inevitable. She takes the syringe from the back of the fridge, prepares the injection, heads upstairs. She knocks on Jack’s door. There’s no answer, so she pushes open the door and steps inside, expecting to find him still asleep.

But his eyes are wide open and he’s staring at the ceiling. When she crosses the room to him, he sits up.

“Hello,” she says cautiously. So much has happened in the past twenty-four hours that she’s not even sure where to start.

He doesn’t answer, simply looks at her.

“Jack? Are you well?” She reaches for his forehead, but he turns his head away. “Jack?”

“I can’t remember what she said,” he says. “But I know that she was here.”