October 1, 1921

After druids, lizard men, ape men, creatures from another planet, various tribes and man-eating beasts it was probably only a matter of time until we encountered pirates. Marguerite is in great spirits tonight, no wonder, considering she outsmarted the pirates and all of us and has her beloved treasure hidden God only knows where.

Quite ironic that we found the pirate treasure while I told her about my proud ancestor, Captain John Roxton. Several ignorant souls who don’t know the difference between a privateer and a pirate accused him of being a buccaneer. Of course I didn’t mention this to Marguerite, she might not understand. It’s not that I don’t trust her, it’s just that the Roxton family rarely talks about the good Captain’s early days.

It was quite an uncomfortable experience being tossed into the middle of all that bickering between Marguerite and Veronica. A situation where each woman used me to get her point across and of course none of them was happy with whatever I did. Well, Veronica was happy when I helped her carry the treasure out of the treehouse.

I still think we did the right thing that night, especially considering how ruthless those pirates were, but also learned that I should never try to do something behind Marguerite’s back. Compared to her wrath an angry T-Rex is a pussycat. I should have known that she wouldn’t tolerate our actions and might get herself into a dangerous situation. Next time I’ll talk her into relinquishing her treasure instead of just taking it away. I can be quite convincing if I try hard enough.

Well, as usual we prevailed in the end, and much as I’m loath to admit it, primarily thanks to Marguerite’s clever tactics. She’s so much more than meets the eye. Beautiful, smart, cunning, with an unmatched survival instinct. And now very rich. I wonder whether she will ever be able to spend her fortune. Maybe the only place where she can wear those dazzling jewels will be the Treehouse. I for one am delighted to see that wonderful sapphire necklace on her swan-like neck. I mentioned to her a few days ago how advantageously it shows off her lovely complexion. She gave me one of those delightful smiles that do wonders for my blood pressure.

 

October 3, 1921

The Plateau hasn’t released its grip on us so far. Will we be trapped on it forever?

I have to admit that the thought is sometimes frightening and sometimes deeply satisfying. Yes, the life here is full of dangers and new adventures await us nearly every day, but we have also grown into a group of people who can rely on each other. Each of us brings unique skills and we’ve learned to cope with even the most harrowing situation. Veronica’s familiarity with indigenous plants, Summerlee’s encyclopaedic knowledge of botany and Challenger’s visionary experiments have taken skin care to a whole new level. Who would have guessed that Challenger’s lab would produce sophisticated moisturizers and eye creams that have no match in even the finest stores of Paris and London. Malone’s never-ending dedication to physical fitness have been life-changing for me, my abs have never look better, my biceps and triceps are perfectly developed without being bulgy. A group of people who give to each other every day…

And the Plateau brought Marguerite into my life. The moment I met her in Challenger’s study I felt that my life had irrevocably changed its course. But it took all those months on the Plateau to make me truly understand what a remarkable woman she is. I could stay on this Plateau forever, as long as she is always on my side.

 

November 4, 1921

Our encounter with Veronica’s childhood friend Danu and his werewolf cohorts was yet another hair-raising Plateau adventure. I lost my silver flask. While we were in the Valley of the Shadows, we had to melt it to dip our bullets into it. Legend has it that silver is one of the few reliable remedies against werewolves and the fact that I am writing this proves that the legend is true. I will miss my flask. My father gave it to me, when I entered Oxford and I still recall the taste of the fine brandy that he had filled it with. “You’re a fine young man, John,” he had said, when he handed me the flask in my room in Oxford, “you will make your family proud.” I wish it were true. Instead I brought so much sorrow and pain onto our family. My brother. My father. My poor mother who lost all that was dear to her.