Set in the old BBC version 1988.
Susan always felt in a different, indefinable way about Peter. When he tells her that he is adopted, that feelings clear up.
Disowner; Narnia and all her delightful creatures aren't mine. Exept for a few characters, later in the story.
I. Where the PevensieKids arrive at the professor's house and in which Peter tells Susan he is adopted
Sixteen, Susan was, when the war broke out. It started with the newspapers and the firsts on tv. Then the schools closed, and two weeks after Susan's seventeenth birthday, mother had told them to pack clothing and some things for entertainment. They obeyed, and the next day mother brought them to the station. The platform, where the train was waiting, was loaded with hundreds of children, who were all leaving to the country. Susan kissed her mother's cheek.
"Bye mother," she said. Mother smiled at her that smile, that was supposed to comfort her. This time, it didn't. Then mother kissed Peter, then Edmund, and least, she kissed little Lucy. They stepped into the train. Lucy hesitated, looked back at mother.
"Come on, Lucy, the train is moving," Susan said, and she took the hand of her youngest sibling. The four of them sat down in an empty compartment, and waved at their mother, until she was out of sight. There was a sad silence for a moment, in which Lucy stared at the ground, Susan and Edmund looked out of the window and Peter started searching for their traintickets. Edmund was the first one to speak.
"Why do we have to go?" Susan and Lucy looked at him, "I'd much rather stay in London to see the war!"
Peter looked at him as if he had gone mad.
"This war is going to be very nasty, Edmund. Which is why we will be sent away!"
Edmund looked outside again with an angry frown on his forhead.
"Spoilsports, grown ups," he growned. Susan sighed.
"They are doing it for our sake, Edmund! When the bombs start falling on London..." she didn't finish her sentence and looked at Lucy, who had a very troubled look in her eyes. She put her hand on her little sister's arm, and Lucy grabbed it firmly with her little hands.
"I wish mother and Nanny could've come with us," she said to Susan. Susan sighed and nodded. She felt Peter looking at them.
"I don't think it's fair," all eyes were turned to Edmund again, "They'll be right there, in all the excitement!"
Peter threw him a look of disapproval and mocking.
"All that danger you mean!" he exclaimed, "Don't talk such rubbish."
He looked at Susan for moral help.
"We are lucky, Edmund!" Susan said reprovingly, "We are going away deep into the countryside, where we'll be safe."
She beamed and smiled at the thought.
"Yes! And you know why we'll be safe?" Susan's smile disappeared and Lucy looked somewhat scared at Edmund's clouded face, "Because in the country nothing - ever - happens!"
Peter's rolling eyes and Susan's sigh told Lucy that they got tired from Edmund's tough talk. Peter looked outside, and decided he wasn't going to talk to Edmund until after the trip. Susan and Lucy seemed to share that thought. Edmund tried to provoke some more arguments, but the others kept ignoring him stubbornly.
Two hours later they stood on a little empty platform. Lucy looked around her, and took her big sister's hand.
"What do we do now?" she asked. Susan shrugged and looked at Peter.
"Let's go out," he decided, and since nobody knew a better thing to do, they agreed. And so they walked out. There was a street. It wasn't a big one, but it was obviously ment for cars. Not that there were any cars in sight. At the other side of the street, there was a big green lawn, with flowers. Peter looked around. There really was nobody. He put down his luggage and the others copied the action.
"What do you suppose we do?" Susan asked him. He shrugged.
"I don't know, I think we should wait for someone to pick us up," he said and he sat down on the stairs. Again, the others copied his action. Susan looked at the yellow flowers in the grass.
"It wouldn't hurt to wait there, would it?" she said. Lucy jumped up immediatly.
"Ooh, can I go there, please! Please, Peter!" she whined.
"Oh, I don't know," Peter said.
"Please!" Lucy pouted. Peter sighed.
"Okay, go," he said, and Lucy and Edmund raced across the street. They threw themselves in the grass, and rolled over eachother and had the time of their lives. Susan stood up to follow them, but then looked at Peter. His gaze was troubled.
"Peter?"
He looked up at her.
"Is something wrong?" she asked. He looked down.
"The war and stuff. I just hope mother will surv..."
"She will," Susan interupted him, "There is something else going on."
"What is it?" Peter asked.
"You tell me,"
Peter sighed. And another time.
"Come on, I'm your sister, you can tell me," said Susan, trying to comfort him. Peter looked up at the playing siblings.
"That's just it," he said, "You're not my sister."
Susan chuckled.
"What is that rubbish, ofcourse I am!"
"No, Sue," said Peter and he looked up at her, "I'm adopted."
"You're – You're what?" Susan whispered.
"Mother told me, right before we left," he said, "In case the bombs would fall on London. Then I would never have known."
"I'm so sorry," Susan said. She wished she could've said something else, something that would really sooth him, but she couldn't think of something else. Also, she was rather diverted by something. A feeling, deep inside her chest. A feeling, she couldn't quite explain. It felt like happiness, and tiredness and some kind of numbness. It was strongly comparable to.. – relieval. But what for? Was she happy she wouldn't grow up to be like Peter, that she wouldn't have his personality, that she wouldn't have anything to do with anything he would become? But she liked him so much that way. No, it was no relieval. This was triumph. The kind of triumph you feel when somebody confesses to you that you were right about something all along. Only now, she realized that she had known it. She had always unconsiously known that Peter wasn't her real brother. And now that she thought of it deeper, she came to realize that she didn't even remember where he came into her life, though she was quite sure he hadn't been there all along.
"Don't be, it's not even your fault," Peter said, "I just wish I would have known it earlier. Or even better; never."
"Oh Peter, if there is anything I can do for you!"
Peter blinked. He appreciated Susan's concern, but there was nothing she could do. Nor Edmund, nor Lucy, nor anyone. He needed to figure this out alone.
"No thanks, just don't tell the others,"
Susan looked at Edmund and Lucy, and then shook her head.
"I won't,"
At the end of the street, Peter and Susan heard a car. A brown car stopped in front of the station. A man in suit stepped out of it.
"Pevensie children?" he asked. Peter stood up.
"Yes, sir," he said, and he grabbed his luggage.
"Come on, you guys, we're leaving!" Susan yelled at Lucy and Edmund. They too grabbed their luggage and got into the car. Peter sat in the front. Then they started driving.
"My name is William," the man said.
"Hello, I am Peter," Peter answerd.
"Did you have a pleasant journey?" William asked. Peter nodded. In the back he heard Susan telling Edmund to leave Lucy alone. He sighed and looked outside.
"Terrible thing in London," Peter nodded again.
"Not very chatty, mister Pevensie?" Peter forced a smile.
"I'm sorry, I'm just very tired," he said.
"That's okay. Oh, look, we're here," William said, and he pointed at a big, old, grey brick house. The kids got out with their luggage. They looked up the stone stairs, and saw a strict looking woman, with grey hair in a bun and glasses. They hesitated down the stairs, but with an encouraging look from William, they went up to the woman. They stopped in front of her. She nodded at them and gave them a scarely kind smile. Then she turned around and they followed her inside. There she turned around. The kids put their luggage down. Immediatly two maids showed up.
"Now, the servants will take these," the woman said, "That is their function. One must not deprive people from their function. Everyone has their part to fullfill."
They walked further into the room while the maids brought their luggage away. The woman was just about to say another something, when they heard a voice saying "Oh!". An old man walked through a door and up to the kids. Susan felt Peter's fingertips brush against hers. The professor stopped in the middle of the room. He had a wrinkled face with kind eyes and a mustache and white Einstein-hair.
"Children?" he said surprised, as if he wasn't informed, but then he seemed to remember it and a smile layed itself around his lips, "Good afternoon!"
"Good afternoon sir," Peter said, and Susan and Lucy did the same.
"Oh, yes," the professor took a deep breath, "Welcome. Welcome to my home. Which you must feel, is your home, for as long as you stay here, with me."
"Thank you, sir," Peter said sincerely. He liked him. The professor smiled at him.
"Well, it's wartime, I suppose. Even I must make a pretence of military precision!"
He swung his cane under his arm and straightened his back.
"Right," he said, "Form a line, there!"
Peter looked at Susan with a hardly hidden amused smile, and they formed a line.
"Very good," the professor said, "Nownow, from the right."
He walked up to Peter first.
"Name?"
"Peter, sir!"
"Susan, sir!"
"I'm Lucy!" Lucy said; she obviously already felt at home. Then the professor pointed at Edmund to say his name. But Edmund once again stayed silent.
"You have a name too, I'm sure?" the professor said.
"Edmund," Edmund said with distaste.
"Sir!" Peter told him reprovingly.
"Sir," Edmund then added.
"I shall try not to mix you up," the professor said, and he started walking back to the door where he came from.
"Ooh, ms. Macready!" he said then, and he turned around again.
"Yes, professor," the strict woman said.
"These children have had a long journey. Have their supper served upstairs in their own study. They don't want to sit up and be polite to an old man!"
Lucy looked up at Susan. Susan liked it to see Lucy so happy. Again Peter's fingertips brushed against hers. She looked at him. He didn't look at her, but then just took her hand. She smiled and looked at the professor again.
"But I'm sure that would be inconvenient to the kitchenstaff," ms Macready answerd.
"Ooh! How great that sounds! But, these are the kitchenstaff!" he pointed at the maids, who had just again appeared, "They are all the staff! What do you think?" he asked them. The two girls looked at the professor and then smiled. Ms Macready then sighed.
"Whatever you say, Professor. Your word is law."
"Is it?" the professor said, and the children chuckled, "How nice!"
Peter let go of Susan's hand, and they followed ms Macready upstairs.
"I say, what about the old prof, trying to be a military?" said Peter. The four of them sat upstairs, eating their desert. Susan crossed her arms and smiled.
"He's lovely!" she said. Peter laughed softly.
"He's peculiar," Edmund said. Susan bowed forward to him.
"Why? Because he's nice?" she asked mocking.
"The way he talks! I keep wanting to laugh!" Edward answered and he chuckled.
"Very bad form, Edmund!" Peter said, "He's given us a home!"
"I know!" Edmund exclaimed, "You don't have to go on about it!"
"I wouldn't be going on about it, if you-"
"PLEASE stop fighting," Lucy interrupted, "Someone might hear."
"Shouldn't think so," Peter said, "It's miles from here to the drawingroom."
"It's the biggest, weirdest house I've ever been in," Susan said, and she stood up to collect the dirty plates, "With all those stairs and passages."
"I think it's spooky," said Lucy, "Especially now it's dark."
Susan patted her head and took her plate. Just before she could take Edmund's plate, he grabbed his spoon and took another bite, only to tease her.
"I think that's the only good thing about the whole business. I like this spooky house," Edmund said, while he threw the morosely looking Susan an arrogant look. Lucy looked up at Susan, "I'm sure there are ghosts in every corner!"
He scared Lucy, and Susan grabbed his plate away.
"Edmund!" she said reprovingly, and a little pissed off. Then there was a weird sound and it scared Lucy again.
"What was that?" she asked afraid. It irritated Edmund. That girl is so easily scared, he thought. If Peter wouldn't be on my skin all day, I would scare the hell out of her, every single minute.
"Only an owl," Peter said, laughing at Lucy with a moved look in his eyes. He really did see Lucy as his little sister. Susan took his plate too. He looked from her soft fingers all the way up to her beautiful blue eyes.
"We never had owls in London! I wonder what other things we'll find here!" she said, and then turned around to put the dishes away.
"Hawks!" Edmund said.
"Eagles," Peter added.
"Badgers!" Lucy said, and Edmund raised an eyebrow, "I'd love to see a badger!"
"I wonder if there are deers," Susan said with a dreamy look in her eyes.
"Well, we'll soon know," Peter stood up and looked at the siblings, "We have weeks, and weeks of holiday ahead! We'll start by exploring the grounds. And the woods. And the fields," With every suggestion Lucy and Edmund got more excited. Susan smiled widely, "And everything – tomorrow!"
"But now, we're going to bed, come on," Susan said. Peter looked how she played the little mum to the whining Lucy and the resisting Edmund. Then, he was left alone at the table. Fifteen minutes later, Susan came back in.
"I thought you were here. Shouldn't you go to bed?" She asked.
"No, I'm not that sleepy," Peter answerd.
"Me neither," Susan shook her head, "You want some tea?"
"Sit down, I'll make it," Peter said and he stood up. She slightly resisted, but still let her big brother put her down in a chair. He didn't want to be her big brother anymore. He wasn't.
"I can't stand Edmund at this time," Peter said. Susan sighed smiling.
"Oh, get over it. That is just, you know – Edmund,"
"Yes, I know, he is just so... disrespectful! To mother, to me, to you - to the professor for god sake!"
"Oh, it's not that bad, nobody but you really bothers about it,"
"That is because he is worse to me, than to you,"
"Than maybe you should stop patronizing him!" said Susan smiling, throwing Peter a bit off guard, and ending the conversation.
Susan wanted to talk about his adoption and searched for the right words, until she found that there weren't any. So she stayed silent and watched him make the tea. Peter felt her watching him. He had always liked having all of Susan's attention, but this made him a little nervous.
"How old..." she started, without finishing the sentence. Peter knew exactly the question.
"Five. I was five," he said, and he reached Susan a cup of tea. She sat down on the table with her feet on the chair, while he leaned against the little sink they had. She sipped from her tea and threw him an interested look.
"Do you know why... I mean..." she started. She wanted to ask why his mother got rid of him, but she realized that was just too mean to say. He smiled at her.
"My mother died at my birth. My father lost his job, and there was no way that he could take good care of me. So he put me in an orphanage. And there your mother came to get me. She said it was love at first sight," Peter told her. Susan chuckled.
"Yes, you know how mother is with little children," she said.
"Oh, no, not mother," Peter said grinning, "No, you."
"What?" Susan grinned.
"Yes, you were four, and mother said that you immediatly ran up to me, and just wouldn't let me go," Peter said, and Susan laughed, "She probably wouldn't even have adopted me, but if she wanted you back home..."
"Oh, I can't imagine that! You were the cutest little thing when you were little," Susan said giggling, and she sipped at her tea again. Peter sipped at his tea too, and there was a thoughtful silent.
"Sue," Peter started.
"Yes?"
"Haven't you ever... I mean... Didn't you ever thought of me – different, than you and Edmund and Lucy?"
Susan looked up at him. She didn't know exactly what to say. Yes, she had always thought of him different, but that sure didn't make her love him less.
"Well, in certain ways," she said insecure.
"What kind of ways?" Peter's body was tingling. What did she mean? He was doing the best he could, not to freak out. This was too much.
"Well, I don't know. It always was somewhat incomprehensible to me. It still is. It was just – different," she said, "I hope that doesn't hurt you."
Peter looked at her. He was sad. This wasn't at all what she had wanted.
"It doesn't. I'm glad to know. I think I'm going to bed," Peter said. He put down his cup, and walked out the door. Susan let her chin rest on her chest. God, why did she always screw this things up?