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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄 a few days later. The warm early-autumn rays of sunshine drove back the sombre atmosphere that had hung in and around the mansion ever since the news of the bombing of London had reached this part of the countryside. Though the puddles scattered around the meadow needed a little more time to dry up, the muddy sand between the grass leaves dried swiftly. The late blooming flowers got all sorts of vibrant colours and their sweet scent spread all over the land; carried along with the gentle gusts of wind.

The Pevensie and Summers siblings' hearts filled itselves with an elated feeling as soon as they set foot outside. They had been cooped up in the mansion for far too long, and at the edge of the porch, near the small stairs, they halted for a moment to breathe in the fresh air. In the distance, the forest seemed to wave at them with its branches while the streak of clouds peaked above it, almost representing white mountains.

Peter carried a flat wooden bat, a ball, and six small posts: all gear to play cricket with, while Susan had a checkered blanket tucked neatly under her arm. It was nearly midday and all of their stomachs rumbled when the breeze blew the scent of freshly baked bread past them. Its source came from the basket that Rosaleen carried between her hands, she had been busy all morning preparing the picnic.

She gently bumped her hip against Lucy's side to interrupt whatever thoughts were going through her mind as the youngest Pevensie still looked a bit downcast since the incident of last night. Lucy glanced up at the older girl with a half-smile but Rosaleen could tell she still thought about it.

Lucy's enthusiastic shouting had woken everyone up in the middle of the night, she had claimed she had been into Narnia once more, but this time Edmund had been there as well. When Peter had questioned his younger brother, though, Edmund had said it had only been a game. To say Lucy had been distressed would be an understatement, and none of the older teenagers knew what to believe anymore.

Rosaleen was the first to descend the stairs towards the cobbled path that laid in the shape of a circle in front of the mansion. It supposedly functioned as a drive-lane, but it sprouted out of nowhere as the other, nearest pathway lay several miles farther up ahead. The countless white, grey and black stones shimmered in the sunlight and wobbled underneath their shoes as they walked over it, but they only followed the lane for a few steps before leaving it and stepping onto the grass. The group walked around the outside of the mansion, most of them chatting happily to each other but Lucy clasped her book tightly against her chest, her mouth pressed into a tight line, while Edmund stared at the pointed ends of his old brown shoes as he followed behind the others.