With four children, before she had to send her children away for their safety, life was always a little chaotic, full of mischief and screaming that Mrs. Pevensie thought she would give anything in her power for a little peace and quiet and instead her children whisper through the house now: no running, no pushing, no screaming.

Lucy sits by her dolls and the miniature tea set that she inherited from Susan, but she doesn't tell stories, just keeping a stuffed animal over her lap; Susan helps her with no complaints, tuts at the prices for meat, negotiates at the market for bargains; her sullen Edmund turned thoughtful, offering to do the dishes for her.

Peter smiles at her, but from afar, from a place where she can't reach him, can't reach any of her children, this place full of whispers and quiet stares and nostalgia her children inhabit now and he answers her when she asks: "I think we just grew up, mum."