Panic

Chapter One

Chapter One

            “Wendy, dear, come downstairs,” Mother called.

            I sighed, and turned my attention back to my journal.  I had been writing about the day, which had been filled with chores and entertaining John’s friends from the university.  I looked at the sentence I had just written.

            When John told me that he needed me to entertain, what he really meant was “cook for my friends for about five hours, only to hear them ask for more and more food”. 

            “Wendy Darling!” Father yelled.  I groaned quietly, and then shut the diary.  I slid it into my desk drawer, and smiled.  There were many memories associated with that desk drawer.  I shut the desk drawer, and hurried down the hallway and descended the stairs.  I walked into the parlour, where Mother and Father were seated.

            “Finally,” Father said, in his usual harsh manner.  “Young lady, do you think I have all day to sit around and wait for you?”

            “My apologies, Father,” I said, walking over to the sofa and taking a seat. 

            Mother’s eyes narrowed.  “Wendy, dear, where are your shoes?”

            I looked down past the three tiers of my white ivory lace skirt and studied my bare feet.  “Sorry,” I said.

            “Honestly, Wendy, how do you ever hope to find a husband if you don’t act like a proper lady should?” Mother asked.

            “Oh, I don’t expect it will be too hard,” I said.  “All I have to do is sit and say nothing.  Apparently men find that attractive.”  Peter wouldn’t, I thought, but then pushed it aside.  I couldn’t think about him right now.

            “Wendy, I must say, I am thoroughly exasperated by your lack of motivation to act like a proper young lady should,” Father said.  “You do understand that, don’t you?”

            “Yes, Father, I do,” I said.  Peter wouldn’t treat me in such a manner, I thought, and then shook myself mentally.  Honestly, Wendy, what part of you didn’t understand that you can’t think about him right now?

            “Your mother and I could only come to one conclusion,” Father continued.  “Despite your mother’s perfection in all things, it would appear that you need a more... rigorous training than your mother can provide.”

            I raised my eyebrows.  “Is that so?” I asked, and I glanced sideways at Mother.  Her hands were knotted in her lap, and her eyes were fixed on them, as if they were the most interesting thing in the whole room.

            “See, Wendy, you are much too outspoken about everything,” Father said.

            “I’m only speaking my opinion,” I said logically.  “I fail to see how that is being outspoken.”

            “You are disrespectful to me!” Father bellowed.  He took a deep breath, as if trying to restrain his temper.  “Your mother and I have decided that the best place for you is finishing school.”

            I leaped out of my seat.  “Finishing school?” I asked, completely outraged. 

            “It is also a boarding school,” Father continued, ignoring my outburst.  “You will meet other, proper young ladies and associate with them.”