Susan Pevensie woke with a start. She'd been dreaming. As consciousness edged it's way into her foggy mind, she remembered where she was. She would have preferred it if she had still been dreaming. Dreams, at least, no matter how bad they were, weren't real. But she was awake now and bleak reality was all that remained. She felt all the feelings of sorrow, despair and anger welling up again. It never got any better. People always said crying made you feel better. It didn't, it just made your body feel sick. Why had God let this happen? He had taken away everyone she ever cared about: Mum and Dad, Peter, Ed and Lu. Even Professor Digory, Aunt Polly, and that brat of a cousin Eustace. Ed and Lu said he wasn't a brat any more. She wouldn't know, since she barely ever spoke to him, but she now thought she'd rather have had him to talk to, than endure the utter loneliness she felt.
She rolled over in bed. From the light shining in the window, she could see the dim outline of the painting hanging on the wall. It was of a dragon-prowed ship sailing forwards in a beautiful blue ocean. It had a lovely purple sail and green dragon wings along the sides. It was the same painting Edmund and Lucy claimed had taken them back to Narnia and an adventure with the young Caspian, now made king. She didn't believe them, of course, but it reminded her of them, and the tears she'd been holding back since she'd woken, blocked up her eyes and wet her cheeks. It wasn't fair! Why had God taken them? Why had he left her behind? Did God even exist? Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold didn't seem to believe in him.
Aunt Alberta and Uncle Harold. Who would have ever thought that they would be her closest surviving family? She had never liked them as a child. She remembered back to that holiday when Lu and Ed had had to stay with them. She was so excited about going to America, that she had hardly had time to feel sorry for them, now she felt guilty. She should have paid more attention to her younger siblings in the last few years. But life becoming a young woman had been so exciting, and they were so childish, that she brushed them off in favour of her new “friends”.
Aunt Alberta would call her for breakfast soon. She had better get dressed and make her face look more presentable. If her aunt and uncle saw she'd been blubbering, there would be no end to it. Thank goodness for make-up! Apparently the Scrubbs didn't believe in crying (in public anyway). She wondered how they grieved the loss of their son, but then they did many things differently.
She put on a pale blue blouse and a grey skirt. The only black was her jacket, as the Scrubbs didn't approve of any show of mourning. In the past she would have shunned the “vegetarian” breakfast Aunt Alberta prepared, but at the moment she didn't really care. She hadn't had an appetite since the day of the accident. The thought of the word “accident” nearly brought fresh tears to her face. She bit her lip and put on a false smile as she sat down to eat.
There was silence as the three people sat around the table munching their breakfast. Alberta looked at Susan with a critical frown. “Have you been crying again, young woman?” she asked disapprovingly. Susan sighed, the make-up hadn't helped after all. She made no reply. “What have I told you about behaving like a grown-up?” continued the aunt. “I'd expect such behaviour from little Lucy – that child never would grow up – but not from you.” The mention of Lucy was too much. Susan got up from the table and fled back to the room with the Ship Painting. She slammed the door and lay on the bed sobbing. A few seconds later there was a firm knock on the door. Susan ignored it. “It's Uncle Harold,” said a serious voice, with a touch of kindness in it. The use of the term “Uncle”, made her start. He hadn't let her call him “Uncle” since she was five or six – or at least Aunt Alberta hadn't allowed it's use. Slowly she rose and opened the door. Harold didn't say anything as she returned to sit on the bed. He pulled up a chair and sat down to face her. For a while there was silence. Susan had stopped sobbing, but tears still streamed down her face. She didn't bother to hide them. “Alberta doesn't mean to be so harsh”, Uncle Harold finally said. “She really is grieving Eustace, but is afraid to show it. When she sees you crying, it reminds her of everything she has lost. She'd rather not remember. I'll speak to her, remind her that you are still young, and not used to such happenings”. He was trying to be kind, but calling the death of her whole family a “happening”, didn't make Susan feel any better. “It's okay if you cry a little dear, but life goes on and losing people to death is simply part of it.” He awkwardly reached out a hand to touch Susan's shoulder and she remembered that Uncle Harold had never had a daughter. He was trying to be kind, but not succeeding very well. As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I know girls need to talk about things we men keep to ourselves, if you want to talk, I'll listen.” His smile was what finally broke her. She began sobbing again, but he sat silently and waited. She'd been looking for someone to talk to since the accident, but no one had given her a chance.
After a while, she caught her breath enough to ask, “Do you believe in heaven, Unlce Harold?” Harold was taken aback, it was the last question he had expected. He quickly recovered, and answered cautiously, even academically, “That is a question many have at such a time. I used to believe in heaven – and God – when I was a little younger than Eustace.” The mention of his son was almost too much for him, but he covered himself carefully. “I was foolish and ignorant back then. Experience and logic have convinced me otherwise. If God was real, there wouldn't be so much evil and hurt in this world. If you were younger, I wouldn't be so honest with you, but I'm afraid we're all that's out there. Life is what we make of it. That's why your Aunt and I became vegetarians. We need to look after the environment, because if we don't look after it, we will destroy it. Besides Science has shown the Bible to be full of fairy tales. The evidence shows that we evolved – if that creation story was a myth, wouldn't that mean the rest is too?”
Susan listened carefully. What Uncle Harold was saying seemed to make sense. She had heard friends who said similar things. But something was niggling at her in the back of her mind. She realised what it was. “That's not what my parents believed,” she finally concluded. Harold nodded slowly. “Remember, Susan, your parents were simple folk. Your father was in the army – he needed something to hold onto should something happen to him. Unlike me, he never studied Science and Philosophy. Times are changing, and so is our understanding of the world.” He suddenly stopped, remembering he was talking to a young woman about her recently deceased parents. “But I wouldn't be so sure your parents really believed all that Bible stuff anyway.” They told it to you as children, to try protect you from the world. Alberta and I believe parents should be honest with their children from the start – so they grow up to be honest, responsible adults. None of that fairy-tale, Bible or Father Christmas stuff. It destroys children when they find out it's all lies.”
Susan stirred over the mention of Father Christmas. A strange sensation washed over her, as though she remembered a time when she really had believed in the jolly man. Of course not! She still recalled the night at age five that she had caught her father sneaking presents into her stocking. She started to think that perhaps Uncle Harold was right. Father Christmas and fairy-tales were things that her parents had taught her about as a child, even though they never believed in them – maybe the same was true of the Bible. She'd had her doubts for a number of years now; but why then had her parents kept up the pretence? For Lucy and Edmund's sake? They weren't kids any more.
Susan had a lot to think about. If this life was all there is; if there wasn't any heaven, then perhaps she needed to move on and make the fullest out of this life. Perhaps Aunt Alberta had it right; crying wouldn't bring her family back. But the dull ache was still there. The sorrow and despair hadn't dissipated. And the anger – that was still there too. Though if she couldn't be angry with God – who was responsible? Fate? The train driver?
Uncle Harold was watching her; that concerned, but slightly uncomfortable expression on his face. “Thank you Uncle,” she said with a weak smile. “It will get better with time,” he replied, “You can still cry a little, but if you want to make something of your life, don't hold on too hard. Life is cruel, and the sooner you toughen up to it, the better.” He patted her shoulder again, and left her to be. As he walked out the room, she had the distinct feeling he was taking a part of her away with him. She suddenly felt old, and weary – she wasn't sure whether she'd ever be that party-loving girl again.
*-*-*-*
There was silence as the three people sat around the table munching their breakfast. Alberta looked at Susan with a critical frown. “Have you been crying again, young woman?” she asked disapprovingly. Susan sighed, the make-up hadn't helped after all. She made no reply. “What have I told you about behaving like a grown-up?” continued the aunt. “I'd expect such behaviour from little Lucy – that child never would grow up – but not from you.” The mention of Lucy was too much. Susan got up from the table and fled back to the room with the Ship Painting. She slammed the door and lay on the bed sobbing. A few seconds later there was a firm knock on the door. Susan ignored it. “It's Uncle Harold,” said a serious voice, with a touch of kindness in it. The use of the term “Uncle”, made her start. He hadn't let her call him “Uncle” since she was five or six – or at least Aunt Alberta hadn't allowed it's use. Slowly she rose and opened the door. Harold didn't say anything as she returned to sit on the bed. He pulled up a chair and sat down to face her. For a while there was silence. Susan had stopped sobbing, but tears still streamed down her face. She didn't bother to hide them. “Alberta doesn't mean to be so harsh”, Uncle Harold finally said. “She really is grieving Eustace, but is afraid to show it. When she sees you crying, it reminds her of everything she has lost. She'd rather not remember. I'll speak to her, remind her that you are still young, and not used to such happenings”. He was trying to be kind, but calling the death of her whole family a “happening”, didn't make Susan feel any better. “It's okay if you cry a little dear, but life goes on and losing people to death is simply part of it.” He awkwardly reached out a hand to touch Susan's shoulder and she remembered that Uncle Harold had never had a daughter. He was trying to be kind, but not succeeding very well. As if reading her thoughts, he said, “I know girls need to talk about things we men keep to ourselves, if you want to talk, I'll listen.” His smile was what finally broke her. She began sobbing again, but he sat silently and waited. She'd been looking for someone to talk to since the accident, but no one had given her a chance.
After a while, she caught her breath enough to ask, “Do you believe in heaven, Unlce Harold?” Harold was taken aback, it was the last question he had expected. He quickly recovered, and answered cautiously, even academically, “That is a question many have at such a time. I used to believe in heaven – and God – when I was a little younger than Eustace.” The mention of his son was almost too much for him, but he covered himself carefully. “I was foolish and ignorant back then. Experience and logic have convinced me otherwise. If God was real, there wouldn't be so much evil and hurt in this world. If you were younger, I wouldn't be so honest with you, but I'm afraid we're all that's out there. Life is what we make of it. That's why your Aunt and I became vegetarians. We need to look after the environment, because if we don't look after it, we will destroy it. Besides Science has shown the Bible to be full of fairy tales. The evidence shows that we evolved – if that creation story was a myth, wouldn't that mean the rest is too?”
Susan listened carefully. What Uncle Harold was saying seemed to make sense. She had heard friends who said similar things. But something was niggling at her in the back of her mind. She realised what it was. “That's not what my parents believed,” she finally concluded. Harold nodded slowly. “Remember, Susan, your parents were simple folk. Your father was in the army – he needed something to hold onto should something happen to him. Unlike me, he never studied Science and Philosophy. Times are changing, and so is our understanding of the world.” He suddenly stopped, remembering he was talking to a young woman about her recently deceased parents. “But I wouldn't be so sure your parents really believed all that Bible stuff anyway.” They told it to you as children, to try protect you from the world. Alberta and I believe parents should be honest with their children from the start – so they grow up to be honest, responsible adults. None of that fairy-tale, Bible or Father Christmas stuff. It destroys children when they find out it's all lies.”
Susan stirred over the mention of Father Christmas. A strange sensation washed over her, as though she remembered a time when she really had believed in the jolly man. Of course not! She still recalled the night at age five that she had caught her father sneaking presents into her stocking. She started to think that perhaps Uncle Harold was right. Father Christmas and fairy-tales were things that her parents had taught her about as a child, even though they never believed in them – maybe the same was true of the Bible. She'd had her doubts for a number of years now; but why then had her parents kept up the pretence? For Lucy and Edmund's sake? They weren't kids any more.
Susan had a lot to think about. If this life was all there is; if there wasn't any heaven, then perhaps she needed to move on and make the fullest out of this life. Perhaps Aunt Alberta had it right; crying wouldn't bring her family back. But the dull ache was still there. The sorrow and despair hadn't dissipated. And the anger – that was still there too. Though if she couldn't be angry with God – who was responsible? Fate? The train driver?
Uncle Harold was watching her; that concerned, but slightly uncomfortable expression on his face. “Thank you Uncle,” she said with a weak smile. “It will get better with time,” he replied, “You can still cry a little, but if you want to make something of your life, don't hold on too hard. Life is cruel, and the sooner you toughen up to it, the better.” He patted her shoulder again, and left her to be. As he walked out the room, she had the distinct feeling he was taking a part of her away with him. She suddenly felt old, and weary – she wasn't sure whether she'd ever be that party-loving girl again.
*-*-*-*
That night Susan wouldn't dream – she couldn't sleep. As she thought of all the things Uncle Harold – uh, Harold – had said to her. He seemed to be relatively at peace with the loss of his son. He hadn't forgotten him, but he was content with what had happened. The thought that there wasn't a heaven, that her family weren't in a “better place” saddened her a little – but then she realised she hadn't truly believed that they were anywhere but in the marked graves of the churchyard. That was probably the source of her grief all along. Though painful, these thoughts came almost as a relief. But then then an awkward feeling of disloyalty followed. It was the same feeling of disloyalty she had felt every time her siblings had spoken about Narnia. She'd been good at brushing away the feeling – but now she realised that it had always been there, thinly masked by her now automatic reply “What wonderful memories you have! Fancy your still thinking of those funny games you used to play when we were children.”
For the first time in years, she allowed herself to think about those funny games. It had been enjoyable – pretending to be Queen Susan, sought by suitors far and wide. It was not nearly as fun as having real suitors, but it was good to gad about with her siblings. The pretended life as Queen Susan had prepared her for her real “grown up” life. And yet somehow, really growing up hadn't been as fun as she'd expected. She always thought that the four of them would grow up together; that as Lucy grew older they would attend parties together, chose outfits and make-up together. She had hoped she would be able to introduce her handsome brothers to her friends. But those days never came. She waited eagerly for the day Peter would realise the way Molly's face lit up every time she saw him – but he never did. Even her older brother seemed to have been left behind in a world of fantasy. It was as though he didn't want to grow up. And now they were all gone. They'd spent their whole lives in pursuit of a pretend world, and had missed out on the real one.
Why then had they all seemed so happy? The only time she saw dear Lucy frown was when Susan refused to indulge in memories of that pretend world. The rest of the time she went around as a happy young girl, blissfully unaware that she was growing up. It almost seemed as though that pretend world was more real to them than the real world.
No that wasn't quite true. At about the same time that she had stopped playing along with the little 'uns, Peter had stopped too. He had thrown himself into his studies, especially his study of Greek and biblical literature – it had been as though he was searching for something and would never give up till he found it. She realised now that he had grown up – but not in the way she had expected. He showed no interest in the military or in girls, and had even spoken of going to seminary. At the same time, he never hesitated to listen to and engage in heartfelt conversations with Lucy and Ed about Narnia. He rejoiced to find out that they'd dragged Eustace into their schemes, and his young friend, Jill.
What was more, old Professor Kirke, and Aunt Polly also used to encourage them. With a sudden shock, and slightly uneasy feeling, she remembered something she hadn't thought about since the accident.
No, it must have just been coincidence. But then again, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. There might be a way to find out.
For the first time in years, she allowed herself to think about those funny games. It had been enjoyable – pretending to be Queen Susan, sought by suitors far and wide. It was not nearly as fun as having real suitors, but it was good to gad about with her siblings. The pretended life as Queen Susan had prepared her for her real “grown up” life. And yet somehow, really growing up hadn't been as fun as she'd expected. She always thought that the four of them would grow up together; that as Lucy grew older they would attend parties together, chose outfits and make-up together. She had hoped she would be able to introduce her handsome brothers to her friends. But those days never came. She waited eagerly for the day Peter would realise the way Molly's face lit up every time she saw him – but he never did. Even her older brother seemed to have been left behind in a world of fantasy. It was as though he didn't want to grow up. And now they were all gone. They'd spent their whole lives in pursuit of a pretend world, and had missed out on the real one.
Why then had they all seemed so happy? The only time she saw dear Lucy frown was when Susan refused to indulge in memories of that pretend world. The rest of the time she went around as a happy young girl, blissfully unaware that she was growing up. It almost seemed as though that pretend world was more real to them than the real world.
No that wasn't quite true. At about the same time that she had stopped playing along with the little 'uns, Peter had stopped too. He had thrown himself into his studies, especially his study of Greek and biblical literature – it had been as though he was searching for something and would never give up till he found it. She realised now that he had grown up – but not in the way she had expected. He showed no interest in the military or in girls, and had even spoken of going to seminary. At the same time, he never hesitated to listen to and engage in heartfelt conversations with Lucy and Ed about Narnia. He rejoiced to find out that they'd dragged Eustace into their schemes, and his young friend, Jill.
What was more, old Professor Kirke, and Aunt Polly also used to encourage them. With a sudden shock, and slightly uneasy feeling, she remembered something she hadn't thought about since the accident.
No, it must have just been coincidence. But then again, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. There might be a way to find out.
*-*-*-*
A week before the accident, the Professor and Aunt Polly had invited the Pevensies, Eustace and Jill over for dinner. He said it was for “old times sake, so they could talk about Narnia”. She still found it hard to believe that the Professor and Miss Plummer had played the same game that the Pevensies did when they were children. She used to think that they had made it up to encourage the little ones. But she couldn't imagine why they kept up the ruse now that they were almost all grown up.
Naturally, Susan had declined the invitation. She had better things to do anyway. After that meeting, Peter had come to her with the most outrageous story she had ever heard. He said that after they had all arrived, Professor Kirke had told them that it wasn't just on a random whim that he'd called them all together. He had said that he'd woken up one morning with a rather strange feeling – a strong impression that he had better summon all the “Friends of Narnia” together for a meeting. Narnia was in danger and they were needed.
When Susan heard this, she concluded that the Professor had finally gone batty. How could they be “needed” in a place that didn't even exist? Anyway, Peter was so excited, she let him carry on, though she concluded that, if Peter wasn't simply teasing her, he had been spending way too much time studying with the old man. Peter's next part of the story was ludicrous. He said that after their meal together, a ghost had appeared to them all – a Narnian looking ghost. Peter had tried to communicate with him, but as soon as he had spoken, the ghost vanished. The group decided that Jill and Eustace, as the youngest of the group should return to Narnia. Professor Kirke suggested that the only way they could get there, was to use the old rings that he and Aunt Polly had used to get to Narnia in the first place. These “rings” were apparently hidden in the garden of the Professor's childhood home. Peter then declared – to Susan's horror and dismay – that he and Edmund were going to sneak into the garden to find the rings. If they succeeded, they would meet Jill and Eustace at the station on their way back to school. The Professor, Aunt Polly and Lucy would go with them on the train.
At this last part of the story, Susan had become very angry with Peter. “I told you I didn't want anything to do with that silly game Narnia! Now you come here making up such ridiculous stories just because I refused to join your little party. When are you going to grow up, Peter? I would expect such a prank from Edmund – but I expect more from you!” With that she had stormed off. With a cold shiver, she suddenly realised that that was the last time she had ever spoken to her brother. She had forgotten all about this exchange, the professor's strange invitation and the supposed ghost in her grief over losing her family.
Now, suddenly, a few unanswered questions began to make sense. She had wondered why Eustace and Jill were on the same train as Lucy and the old folk. She also wondered why Edmund and Peter had been there – the reports suggested that her brothers were at the station rather than on the train when it had crashed. If Peter's story wasn't made up just to annoy her, then the situation of all these people fitted perfectly with the plan he had laid out for her: The boys at the station, the other five on the train.
That didn't explain why her parents were also on the train. Although, they had made a last-minute booking for their trip to Bristol, and were in a completely different carriage. Lucy probably didn't even know they were there. But if the seven of them had carried out this supposed “plan”, and Peter and Edmund were waiting for the others at the station – then that meant that the two of them must have found the “rings” they were searching for.
“That's ridiculous,” Susan thought. “Unless – it might have all been a set-up by the mad Professor. Maybe he had thought it would be good fun to send the boys on a treasure hunt. They liked that kind of adventure. Perhaps the old man had buried the rings himself for the boys to find, and when they all met at the station, he would have revealed his scheme and they'd all have had a good laugh, before sending the kids on to school”. There was one easy way for Su to figure out whether the boys had found any rings. Though what finding them would prove, she had no idea.
Naturally, Susan had declined the invitation. She had better things to do anyway. After that meeting, Peter had come to her with the most outrageous story she had ever heard. He said that after they had all arrived, Professor Kirke had told them that it wasn't just on a random whim that he'd called them all together. He had said that he'd woken up one morning with a rather strange feeling – a strong impression that he had better summon all the “Friends of Narnia” together for a meeting. Narnia was in danger and they were needed.
When Susan heard this, she concluded that the Professor had finally gone batty. How could they be “needed” in a place that didn't even exist? Anyway, Peter was so excited, she let him carry on, though she concluded that, if Peter wasn't simply teasing her, he had been spending way too much time studying with the old man. Peter's next part of the story was ludicrous. He said that after their meal together, a ghost had appeared to them all – a Narnian looking ghost. Peter had tried to communicate with him, but as soon as he had spoken, the ghost vanished. The group decided that Jill and Eustace, as the youngest of the group should return to Narnia. Professor Kirke suggested that the only way they could get there, was to use the old rings that he and Aunt Polly had used to get to Narnia in the first place. These “rings” were apparently hidden in the garden of the Professor's childhood home. Peter then declared – to Susan's horror and dismay – that he and Edmund were going to sneak into the garden to find the rings. If they succeeded, they would meet Jill and Eustace at the station on their way back to school. The Professor, Aunt Polly and Lucy would go with them on the train.
At this last part of the story, Susan had become very angry with Peter. “I told you I didn't want anything to do with that silly game Narnia! Now you come here making up such ridiculous stories just because I refused to join your little party. When are you going to grow up, Peter? I would expect such a prank from Edmund – but I expect more from you!” With that she had stormed off. With a cold shiver, she suddenly realised that that was the last time she had ever spoken to her brother. She had forgotten all about this exchange, the professor's strange invitation and the supposed ghost in her grief over losing her family.
Now, suddenly, a few unanswered questions began to make sense. She had wondered why Eustace and Jill were on the same train as Lucy and the old folk. She also wondered why Edmund and Peter had been there – the reports suggested that her brothers were at the station rather than on the train when it had crashed. If Peter's story wasn't made up just to annoy her, then the situation of all these people fitted perfectly with the plan he had laid out for her: The boys at the station, the other five on the train.
That didn't explain why her parents were also on the train. Although, they had made a last-minute booking for their trip to Bristol, and were in a completely different carriage. Lucy probably didn't even know they were there. But if the seven of them had carried out this supposed “plan”, and Peter and Edmund were waiting for the others at the station – then that meant that the two of them must have found the “rings” they were searching for.
“That's ridiculous,” Susan thought. “Unless – it might have all been a set-up by the mad Professor. Maybe he had thought it would be good fun to send the boys on a treasure hunt. They liked that kind of adventure. Perhaps the old man had buried the rings himself for the boys to find, and when they all met at the station, he would have revealed his scheme and they'd all have had a good laugh, before sending the kids on to school”. There was one easy way for Su to figure out whether the boys had found any rings. Though what finding them would prove, she had no idea.
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