The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 1

by Matilda Scotney

  Patrick arrived, in uniform, to escort her to the assembly. Alice wondered if she would ever get over his good looks, he seemed more handsome each time she saw him. She invited him into her stateroom, hoping he might be able to shut down the registry. He advised her, no, not possible but should he arrange for it be covered? She thanked him but told him not to worry. He thought she was alluding to her bad experience earlier and in part; he was correct, but it wasn’t that alone, she didn’t want it knowing more about her than she did, the flashing light had taken on a sinister presence in her head and irrationally, she thought it was watching her. She found it annoying the damn thing had to stay, but she only had to endure it for a couple more days.

  She smiled at him as they left her quarters.

  “I’m looking forward to this evening, Patrick. I had a trying day.”

  He looked down at her, he heard what she said but any answer fled as he studied her face, upturned to him. ‘Green,’ he thought, ‘she’s wearing green, it matches her eyes.’

  Alice gave him a puzzled smile, expecting him to comment, realising he might be making her uncomfortable, he quickly composed himself.

  “As a senior officer, I must attend these functions but thankfully, they are of short duration. I’ll confess, the concerts are sometimes too long.”

  “You said I’d enjoy it!”

  “I lied. I didn’t want you to refuse!”

  Patrick always found something amusing to say and was always so kind and attentive, she didn’t need to be afraid if he were by her side, but this time, unlike the dinner with Ryan, Patrick and Hennessey, many more people were in attendance. Alice tried not to count them. No tables or seats were available, and everyone stood in two’s or three’s or moved as individuals from group to group. She held Patrick’s arm tight.

  “Nervous?” he whispered, leaning a little closer, close enough for her to catch a hint of cologne or aftershave. Ted never wore anything like that, he had a name for men who wore ‘perfume’.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “Well, you said you were nervous before the dinner on the station and then you sparkled. I expect more of the same.”

  Alice had a vague recollection she made intelligent conversation after the firewater roll episode but didn’t remember a single thing she said and certainly didn’t remember sparkling.

  Patrick introduced Alice as Dr Langley to a few of the people present but thankfully, not one of them attempted small talk or questioned her presence on the ship. Principal Ryan stood with Statesman Hennessey, positioned as when she first met them, half turned to each other and in deep conversation. Patrick drew their attention and Principal Ryan, unsmiling, bowed to Alice. This time, Hennessey linked his bow to a grin.

  “Are you being well looked after, Dr Langley?” Principal Ryan asked, more out of duty, she thought, than interest. He glanced at Patrick as he spoke, but Alice still hadn’t learned to read expressions.

  “Yes, thank you, Principal Ryan, Statesman Patrick has been kindness itself.”

  Principal Ryan was a towering figure and to be honest, he scared her, but he wouldn’t intimidate her into forgetting her manners.

  “I understand that you are playing the—er,” good heavens, she’d forgotten, “flute for us this evening.”

  “Oboe, Dr Langley,” he corrected her, “and I apologise in advance, I am an amateur. There are many more accomplished musicians than I on board, but they are mainly strings and we have only one pianist of merit, and she accompanies each performer. I hope you enjoy the concert.” His gaze lingered for a moment before his attention turned to the other officers who joined the party.

  Alice suspected the crew members were accustomed to Principal Ryan’s dismissive manner. When his contribution to the conversation ended, he moved on. She resolved not to take it as a personal slight.

  “Don’t mind him,” Hennessey said under his breath when Principal Ryan was out of earshot. “He hates performing and only does it because he’s the only other instrumentalist apart from strings and piano and someone more important than him found out he can play. Ryan attends these functions under sufferance. He would rather be somewhere, anywhere in space than here. His whole life is out there.” Hennessey made a vague gesture toward the viewport.

  “Why doesn’t he just say ‘no’ to performing?” Alice, from a shy person’s perspective, saw no point in putting yourself through such an ordeal.

  “He can’t,” Patrick said. “Ryan can be brusque in his manner but he’s not one to discourage morale. We’re in space for long periods of time and the recitals are an outlet for musical talent on board. Our guests requested a final performance tonight, and he had no choice but to agree. He started these soirees for the officers and crew, so he has to take part, regardless of how he feels although being the star attraction wasn’t on the agenda.” The two officers grinned at each other. “Now he’s stuck with it.”

  Alice was fearful Principal Ryan would overhear, “We shouldn’t talk about him.”

  “I only said he didn’t like performing, that’s common knowledge,” Hennessey snorted. “Trust Patrick to fill in the gaps.”

  Alice thought the assembly served no other purpose than as a get-together with speeches, made by grand people in uniform but as she’d never attended a gathering like this before, she had no criteria by which to judge. It wasn’t the same as Michelle’s barbeques, which were more a free-for-all with kids running in and out and heaps of laughter. She always relegated herself to the kitchen with the washing up to avoid mingling with guests but here, there didn’t appear to be a kitchen. Patrick would like Michelle’s barbeques, she thought, he’d be right at home.

  The stewards moved amongst them with little bits to eat on trays, but Alice couldn’t imagine the implications of her eating standing up, so she declined, only accepting a sparkling drink in a fancy, wide glass, without even questioning what it might be. Sweet and cold, it reminded her of lemonade. She loved lemonade and gasped at her first sip, drawing attention from both Patrick and Hennessey. Patrick laughed.

  “Have you had this before?”

  “Yes! It’s lemonade! Michelle keeps a few bottles in the fridge for the kids. They love it!”

  So delighted was she with a familiar flavour, Alice paid no attention to what she said. Hennessey cast a look towards Patrick who merely shrugged, both assuming a stray memory had surfaced.

  Although Alice loved lemonade, too much of it irritated her bladder and made her want to pee, not something she wanted to admit to Patrick, so when offered another, she declined, although she would have cheerfully drunk a few more. Maybe back in her stateroom, she could get a steward to bring some, now she knew it existed.

  Principal Ryan and his two officers paid close attention to the speakers and at times, murmured between themselves. Patrick kept an eye on Alice to make sure she was handling the evening well. To her surprise, she understood, at least in part, a few of the topics covered.

  The man and woman speaking wore mustard colour uniforms. During lulls, Alice asked in a low whisper to Patrick, what the uniforms meant.

  “They’re environmentalists,” he whispered back. “This presentation is for them to give an overview of the report they will present to the Tabernacle. They’ve been studying our environment and the effects an artificial environment might have on the human body over an extended period, particularly in the context of space travel. This summary is for the benefit of officers and councilmen who aren’t recipients of the initial report.”

  “Do you say ‘Environmentalist’ and then their name?”

  “No, you address them as ‘doctor’, same as you,” and he returned his attention to the speaker.

  Alice looked around the room. She wasn’t a doctor, she was a fraud. As Principal Ryan moved away, she reached up to hold Patrick’s arm. It comforted her to have him here, and he smiled, holding her hand against the crook of his elbow. Amelia had told her holding his arm this way was permissible as an invited non-military gu
est and Alice remembered that Steven did the same thing at Michelle’s wedding when the crowds became too much for her.

  The concert took place in the auditorium following the assembly. The seats, set along tiered semicircular rows between aisles led down towards a stage, with a piano on a raised platform.

  For Alice, the perspective of looking down at performers and not up at them as the audience did at the school concerts appeared skewed to Alice, only having been to the children’s plays in the school hall.

  While she tried to sort it out, Patrick told her, on this deck, there were entertainment facilities, a health club and spa. A spa! Alice thought about chin hairs and the hot stone massage scheduled for Saturday, before all this. She frowned.

  “You are a funny thing tonight,” Patrick showed her to their seats. “Excited about lemonade one moment and lost in thought the next. Why are you frowning, beautiful lady?” He smoothed his thumb over her hand, making sure no-one saw such an intimate gesture, then smiled and held her gaze with his glorious blue eyes.

  “A memory. A memory I’m not supposed to have.”

  “No-one can tell you not to have a memory, Alice. Memories are yours.”

  “Not this one,” she said as the lights dimmed; the soiree was about to begin.

  Alice had seen violins before, but never so many and with such different sizes. Of the ten instruments carried onto the stage, some were so large, the people playing them had to sit down and rest them between their legs, fascinated, she looked to Patrick for an explanation.

  “Cellos,” he said.

  Cellos, she echoed to herself—she’d heard of cellos.

  The lights from above the violinists and cellists cast a soft glow and the sound of the strings filled the auditorium, rich and haunting. Just the simple joy of listening brought to Alice an incredible hush and peace that she wanted to last forever. When the music finished, she realised she had been holding her breath, then joined in with the enthusiastic applause.

  “Oh, Patrick!” without thinking, she grabbed his hand and squeezed, barely able to stay in her seat. “It’s so beautiful!”

  “Principal Ryan is next,” he whispered, leaning towards her and indicating to the side of the stage.

  Alice returned her gaze back to the proceedings below, her eyes shining with expectation.

  A young woman stepped up to the piano and, with a bow of acknowledgement at the ripple of applause, seated herself at the piano. Principal Ryan entered from the side, expressionless as usual, unsmiling as usual. He didn’t acknowledge the audience, merely lifted the instrument to his lips with a nod to the lady at the piano and began to play. Only seconds into the music, Alice again became enraptured with the sound. Music, so new to her. What an incredible experience, a thing of beauty that might have coloured her grey life, had she known. This wasn’t the radio playing in the background on Saturday mornings, this was real, filling the surrounding air, she closed her eyes as the music transported her. She didn’t know if Principal Ryan played well but the sound soared and resonated right through to her core, leaving her with a sense of weightlessness and purity.

  With each movement throughout the concerto playing below, Alice’s body swayed gently, her breathing became deeper or shallower as the mood dictated, and at times, in her happiness, she placed a hand on Patrick’s knee or his arm, not conscious of her actions. As she applauded, she turned to him, sheer delight making her eyes sparkle. It mattered little to her that Principal Ryan only gave the slightest hint of acknowledgement to the audience before he walked from the stage. Alice knew nothing of the technicalities but believed he played beautifully, that the piano player played beautifully and only knew that everything she heard was magical. Agog with anticipation, she waited for the next performance. Again, the hush settled upon her. Spellbound, Patrick decided, as he took a moment to glance across and enjoy her pleasure in an event that for him, was routinely dull and boring.

  The pianist remained onstage after Principal Ryan left. The young woman started to play, but it was not the gentle music of the strings, nor the different cascades and changes in mood and tempo heard with Principal Ryan, this music clattered along like a steam train, so fast it confused Alice and jangled around her head. Keys were banged and played with such harshness, Alice couldn’t take her eyes off the pianist. She didn’t like it. When it was over, she forgot her manners and didn’t applaud.

  “The Pizzicato Polka. Not to your taste?” Patrick asked, surprised at her sudden change in appreciation and disappointed the spell was broken.

  “More like the Bang and Crash Polka,” she half turned, pouting and screwing up her face in displeasure, then, as she turned back to the stage, startled him by adding, “Some people don’t get Strauss.”

  He touched her arm, and from over her shoulder, she threw him a quizzical smile

  “I thought you didn’t know anything about music?”

  “I don’t,” she shot back, her voice bright, grinning again as the strings re-entered, her odd comment of a moment ago, forgotten.

  And there she was, lost in the music, back under its spell, even laughing with pleasure at the end of the piece and forgiving the pianist for her rendition of the Pizzicato Polka. Patrick knew Councilman Ellis, the pianist, and knew she always finished a concert with a ballad, composed by a more modern composer. In this, the girl redeemed herself to Alice, who loved the softness and emotion and the further surprise of her singing, in the loveliest of voices, a sweet and pretty melody which settled Alice back into her dreamy state.

  Later, as the last performer left the stage, Alice clasped her hands together. “I loved it. I loved it!” the pure joy on her face making Patrick laugh, but she was too caught up in the moment to see herself as amusing.

  “I’ve never been to a real concert, I loved it!” then controlling her excitement, added, “thank you, Patrick.”

  “I hoped you would,” he said, drawing her to her feet. “We have these events from time to time. Sometimes, they’re open to the whole crew and are quite popular, less of the highbrow stuff. Principal Ryan doesn’t play at those.”

  “Well,” she said, still experiencing a little of the euphoria. “I thought he played well.”

  “He does. But it’s a talent he doesn’t share too often.”

  “Perhaps he lacks confidence.”

  “Confidence? Principal Ryan?” Patrick burst into laughter, Alice looked on, surprised, not sure how such a comment engendered such mirth.

  “Will you tell him,” Patrick said after a moment, still laughing as they left the auditorium, “or shall I?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Would you care to go to the officer’s observation lounge?” Patrick wasn’t ready for the evening to end. Alice, still feeling the effects of the concert, was of a like mind.

  “Oh, yes!” then deciding she sounded too eager, modified her tone. “The view is amazing there.”

  For a while, they sat in silence. The observation lounge, only one deck above the auditorium was deserted. Alice found it soothing, sitting here with Patrick, looking out into space, music in her head.

  Patrick spoke first.

  “We only have one more full day before we arrive in space dock.”

  She didn’t look directly at him but peeped with her peripheral vision. He seemed relaxed, long legs straight out and crossed at the ankles, his left arm over the back of the seat behind her and his other arm stretched out over the seat the other side, his jacket undone.

  “What does that mean?” She wasn’t sure how this might play out but felt a nagging sense of foreboding. Patrick had become her friend. She parted company with Kelly and Dr Grossmith and Principal Hardy and now, maybe Patrick too.

  “It means I may not see you again before we dock.”

  “What about when we get back home?”

  “Well,” he straightened up with a grin and twisted round to face her, he hoped she might say that.

  “If you wish, I’ll come to see you when you’re
settled. I have to stay on board for a while to supervise the engine and Gravidarum refit.”

  “Settled where?”

  “I don’t know yet. Principal Hardy is making those arrangements.”

  “And didn’t involve me?” she exclaimed. “What am I? Six years old? I was told I would be going to the Tabernacle.”

  “You are going to the Tabernacle, Alice, but you won’t stay there forever.” He hesitated. “You believe they’re taking away your right to choose for yourself?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Possibly, he thought. “Ok, if you had the choice, where would you go?”

  Alice didn’t have a clue. Earth was all new to her now, so she had no answer.

  “Precisely, but you will first go to Principal Katya. She has a conference with Principal Ryan, Principal Hardy and Dr Grossmith scheduled for tomorrow. You are far too special to be left to your own devices.”

  Even after centuries, everyone still knew better than she did.

  “Wherever you are staying when we get home,” Patrick promised. “I will visit. There are some amazing places and wonderful sights and I’d love to show you around.”

  “I want you to visit, Patrick. I’ll be disappointed if you don’t, but aren’t you going away on this ship again?”

  “Not for a few months. I come and go while we’re in dock, so I can see you often, wherever you are.”

  She nodded without speaking. She didn’t want him going anywhere. He made her feel safe, like when Kelly tucked her into bed during those first few weeks when she wasn’t ready to face an unfamiliar world alone.

  Later, Patrick took her back to her stateroom, filling her head with anecdotes of Hennessey and Ryan and other crew members. He was so funny and charming and likeable, she suspected he got along with everyone. And he’s handsome, she reminded herself. Can’t forget handsome.