Absence makes the heart grow forgetful

Micheal hated playing chaperon. He basically was required to act as glorified furniture, whenever Wendy had to entertain a gentleman. Sure he might enjoy going out, but did it need to include the, boring and futile conversations ? Sir Clifford appeared very embarrassed, since their arrival.

They had started on the grounds of the National Gallery, strolled through layers of English oak trees. As they had walked, the embarrassed suitor had mentioned the weather, at least on three, separate, occasions. To each, Wendy had replied the same way.

« Very fine indeed, my lord. »

Micheal at that point had started praying for the end of the world to come, just to hear that the weather was not fine. The apocalypse seemed more appealing by the minute. His sister was trying hard to keep the conversation afloat, he could hear the mechanical gears in her head going crazy.

They hit their lowest, when she had asked the lord about his passions and pursuits. Going tomato shade, he had answered that he doesn’t know if he had any. He looked almost anguished by the exchange, making the Darling regret they had ever learned how to talk.

Micheal was bored out of his brains. Aunt Millicent had been very strict about his role as chaperon. The good name of the family was on the line. What would the neighbors say, if word had gone out of the unmarried daughter, alone, in the presence of gentlemen ?

Micheal had no idea what those neighbors would say. His neighbors seemed concerned about their own situation, for what he had observed. Really, it was all a waste of time, from his point of view. But then again, it had become increasingly difficult for Micheal to comprehend his family.

Things had went weird, right after his sixth birthday. When his father had bettered their situation. And really after their return from Neverland. Even if he had been very young, he remembered everything so clearly. He had tried to talk about it with his siblings, and neither one of them seemed to want to do so, or remembered it.

Like it had just vanished from their minds. His parents and Aunt Millicent didn’t talk of it. He imagines it must have been traumatic for parents to suddenly lose, all three of their children, in the middle of a cold winter night. And to have them return, as abruptly, the night after. Yet not a word is ever uttered about that time. Micheal vowed to never let himself forget, every day he tried to at least recall one thing from that magical land. What he preferred day dreaming about, were the fairies. Beautiful wings fluttering in a midnight sky, constantly in the back of his mind.

He observes his sister, walking side by side to that big oaf of a Baron. Micheal had loved Wendy, almost as a mother throughout his life. Especially, after their mother had to attend more social events, leaving Wendy caring for the brothers. Under the oak like gaze of Millicent, every action looked like a sin. Micheal wanted a story before bed ? How dare he, him, a gentleman of good breeding ask such a petulant thing ! He ended up punished for being a child, at every turn.
Wendy would sneak chocolate for him, dry his tears in her gowns and hug him tightly, against her heart. She had become a sadder version of herself after Neverland, like light had been taken from under her.

So to make her smile he would create big bold pranks. Including, but not limited to, setting Millicent on fire as fancy would take him. Leaving poor old Aunt Millicent, traumatized of fire. You could always spot her in the opposite direction of any source of fire. He took on the role of rebellious son, recalcitrant to abide by idiotic rules.

To say he hated to play chaperon, wasn't to say he didn’t care for Wendy. Indeed, he was glad to oppose any suitor that would crawl Wendy’s way. Was it rude to threaten them ? Maybe, but really, he couldn’t be blamed for their short comings. He had pushed away the bad intentioned ones, since he was sixteen.

Cornering them, coming up with receipts each time. He was doing the under cover work, going to brandy and making these fools talk.
How they spoke about women enraged him. So effectively, Wendy didn’t have a long list of suitors, because her brother was cleaning her dance card. He just had to glare, and an abusive high born with a long list of illegitimate children would stray, far from Wendy.

At least Sir Clifford’s only sin was his shyness. He was willing to offer him the benefit of the doubt. He was still unclear how this union would work. They were so poorly matched, yet everyone desired this wedding. He hoped Wendy would put a stop to the craziness soon.

He had seen what Wendy looked like in love, and it had happened long ago. He knew why he had the opportunity to go to Neverland. She had wanted to take her brothers with her, and the obtuse boy agreed just to keep her.
Micheal had been angry at Peter Pan for a long time. For him Wendy had given up her kiss. And now at the age of marriage his sister was struggling to find a man. Peter Pan was the poison and the remedy, of this he was certain.

Since he was alone in cherishing those memories, he sometimes doubted himself. He might have imagined all of it. He shakes those thoughts far away from him and catches the awkward silence. Wendy is sending him glances silently asking him to say something, anything.

« I would like to enter the Gallery. » he bluntly drops.

The odd couple quickly agrees with relief. Following the flow of visitors inside, they enter the gallery. And there the awkwardness follows. As Michael searches a clever remark on one painting, he notices Wendy signaling to him. She looks terribly worried, brows set in a frown. What has he done now…
She leaves Sir Clifford, in awe of a painting, and comes up to him.

« Micheal, do you see the man next to that lady in red ? » she asks in hushed tones.

He glances behind him as smoothly as he can. And he spots him. A tall figure, with striking green eyes peering in their direction. No that’s not it, the stranger is only looking at Wendy. He looks like… The realization dawns on him. Head going from her to him, trying to understand what is happening.

« He’s been following me since the last ball. He’s not introduced himself to me… I just worry… » she continues, eyes glued to the far end of the room.

« Wendy, do you recognize this man ? » Her sister looks back at him, confused.

« Of course not ! He was very rude by the way, you would not like him. »

« Wendy I need you to really think. Doesn’t he look… familiar ? » he pushes her once more.

« You’re being strange. Do you know him ? » She searches his face for an answer.

« Not really, but he looks like somebody we used to play with as children. »

Lost in thoughts Wendy returns to her suitor. Micheal doesn’t have to think about it, he goes directly to him.

Checking that his sister has her attention set on Clifford, he makes his way through the visitors. He finally stands in front of him.

« Hello Peter. »