One good thing happened, all the secrets came out. First Mum found out about me meeting Peony and not going straight home, because I was in the park when my meningitis happened, and then I told her the other secrets that I’d done. It’s quite good nearly dying in a way because nobody bothers about little things. (So long as you don’t actully, of course.)
I think last night I saw Gene for the last time for a long time anyway. I’m miserable so I’ll write it out of myself. It’s night and I’m writing in bed with my torch because I’m ment to be asleep but I can’t.
She asked Mum if she could take me out just once more. Mum brought me to a meeting place outside Lester Square tube station. She and Gene were polite but not friendly. I thought of The Parent Trap and I wanted to grab them and drag them together but I remembered what Mum said about limitations so what was the point.
Gene said we could go to a Pizza Hut if I liked which was nice of her because she hates pizzas, and once I would’ve but I thought it was a special occasion so we went to a posh place she likes called the Ivy which is for actors and I had rice with tomato sorce (but it was special) and she said woops, here goes more mad cow disease, and had a big steak and there were candles and flowers and the waiter knew her and was very smily to us and gave me a whole box of delishus sweets called petty fours to take home.
We talked and talked. She told me about Copper’s puppies that are grown-up now, but she kept one and called him Al. I thought it was after me but she said no, it was after a gangster called Al Capone because he is such a roughian. Then she confessed that when Mum told her I might die, she’d speeded again in her car only the police didn’t catch her this time, and I told her about Peony and my story and the hospital, and then I told her about my feet, but she knew most of it already.
I asked her something I hadn’t asked Mum because of her and men, which was if she thought a boy could fancy me with my feet being ugly. Gene said, “Show them to me at once, I want to see them now.” So I took off my shoes under the table and put my feet in Gene’s lap under her napkin and then I suddenly paniced and snatched them away or I tried to, and said “Don’t look don’t look” but she grabbed my ankels and said “Shut up.” She looked down at them and stroked them and said “They aren’t ugly at all, they’re just a little bit different and any boy who wouldn’t fancy you because of that isn’t worth a row of beans.” Then she looked straight in my eyes and said, “I promise you, you’ll meet someone who you’ll be very scared of telling for fear he won’t fancy you, and then you will tell and he’ll say, Alice, you do menshon the most irevelent things.” (I think it was that, anyway it means things that don’t matter.)
She said she has something wrong with her, too (only she didn’t tell me what) and that Grandad said that, when she first told him. She said a boy who loves you won’t give a dam about your poor darling feet, except maybe he’ll love you all the more. And I put my shoes back on and we had some delishus sweet things called profiteroles. And then she took me to see a cartoon movie about Moses because we’d started to learn about Ancient Egypt when I left school.
She used to say Mum takes me to too scary films but this one was scarier than Batman! All those poor slaves getting whiped and Moses turning the Nile to blood (how did the people drink?) and the other plages, and when God killed all the first born Egyptians I hated it because I’m a first born and I thought God should have had a bad conscience, much worse than Theseus, all he did was leave Ariadne on the island and he wasn’t even a god.
When I said that to Gene when we came out she laughed a lot and hugged and kissed me and said I was a wonderful child and that my Mum was doing a pretty good job. I said “So why don’t you like her?” and she said, “Darling, I am what I am and she is what she is. You don’t know everything. I can’t keep my mouth shut where you’re concerned and I think you and your mum are better off without me.” I said, “But why can’t you just be a grandma?” and she didn’t say anything while we walked down the street with all the bright lights and traffic going by and I thought she’d forgotten but then she said a weird thing. She said, “Do you know what, Alice? I think I’ve been trying to be your father all this time.”
I laughed so loud people turned to stair at me but then I stopped because I thought of all the times she did sporty things with me like run after me on my bike (and when I could ride she rode with me on Grandad’s bike and once she fell off into the nettly hedge and I had to ride to fetch Grandad to pull her up and she was stung all over) and lead me on Biddy, all up the hills for an adventure, and teach me to swim and go on scary rides (Thunder Mountain) and stuff and teasing me when I wasn’t brave. Sometimes I’ve been upset with Gene because she teased me and made me do things I was scared to do but now I’m glad. I’d never’ve done them without her.
I remembered when I was listening to Gene and Grandad talking about my dad and I thought maybe Gene was sorry for me not having a dad to teach me to be brave and do sporty things. She was sort of like a dad in a way.
That’s why I stopped laughing. Because of course she could never be my dad but it was sort of nice of her to try.
Then she said, “Mum won’t give me your adress. But I know her work adress and I’ll write to you there and we can keep in touch if you like.” And I thought she still loves me to distraxion and maybe she’d like to come back to us but if Mum won’t even tell her our new adress it’s Mum who wants her not to.
When we met Mum they didn’t say much, but Gene hugged and kissed me again and we were both crying. I turned round as we walked towards the tube and waved and Gene stood there with her yellow hair in the lighted-up night street in the crowd. She didn’t wave back, she just stood still and looked after us till we turned the corner.
Mum was all withdrawn going home (or maybe it was me) but when we got here she said “Well, how was it?” I said good, but I felt a lot sad and a bit angry. She said “Are you angry with me? I suppose you think I lost you your grandma.” Which I did think and I said, “It’s you who doesn’t want Gene now, isn’t it,” and she said “I don’t want her or her money. You can use the trust later, if you want to, but I can’t afford a private education for you. I’ve found an ordinary school for you, a local one, the one Peony goes to.”
I got a real shock. I thought of Brandy saying she’d miss my weird stories. And I thought of Peony telling me about her grotty school. I blew up right away and said “I don’t want to leave my school!” and Mum said, “You’ve left it, Alice.” I said how could you, without telling me, and she said “I didn’t want to upset you till you were completely better. Listen Alice, we have to stand on our own feet. Gene kept saying I made all the choices. Well, I chose to have you and I’m glad I did, but then this is how it has to be. Just you and me. I thought it could be different but I was wrong. But we’ll manage. I promise.”
I wasn’t nice. I wish I had been, now, because I know she had a really rough time when I was ill. But I carried on about how I wouldn’t have had to go to a grotty school if we still had Gene, so Mum made me go to bed because I was giving her a guilt trip. So I went and cried in bed and then I started writing and only stopped when I heard the TV go off. But by morning I’d calmed down. Because when I thought about what she’d said about choosing me and about standing on our own feet I felt kind of proud in a way, like we were two heroins.
But then I started thinking properly about Johanna and Dad having a baby. It makes everything worse. It’s bad enough not seeing Dad but now that means not seeing my little brother or sister (half) the only one I’ll ever have because for sure Mum’s never going to have one.
It’s just not fair. Mum often says life isn’t fair but it ought to be and if there was really a God, or even gods like the Greeks had, it would be, or at least you could complain. I’ve always wanted a brother or sister. I’ll just have to make do with seeing my cousin James once in a long while, and dream about the other one. Only James is boring.
I wanted to phone Gene like I used to but I c
ouldn’t so I held back till I got to Sharon’s. Sharon child-minds me all day during the holidays, only she doesn’t do much minding, she knits on her knitting machine or even goes out, and lets us do what we like. I should tell Mum what a bad minder she is but then I wouldn’t have Peony to play with.
I told her about going to her school and she said “Do you good, you won’t be so snobby then.” I said “Will you go on being my friend even if I’m older?” and she said yes if I’d write more stories about her, really scary spooky ones with sad vilent endings. I said like what, and she said, “like I get put in a dunjon and bricked up and die of hunger and become a skeleton.” I thought that would make a brilliant story so I said OK I will then, and I could make you come back as a scary goste and hornt the people who put you in the dunjon. She got excited and said YES and they’d go mad and jump off bridges and I said out of sky-scrapers and she said out of airoplanes and I said off the moon and she said off Venus and we just got histerical laughing and I felt A LOT better. It’s really great to have a friend like Peony who’s never boring not to menshon saves your life.
Even with Peony though it can get boring being at Sharon’s all day, and sometimes we sneak out and play in the street or even go to the shops. I think I’ve stopped Peony robbing or at least she doesn’t do it in front of me. Or we watch TV, or she does while I write, like now. I’m trying not to think of Gene and being in the country and swimming and riding and playing with Copper. And Al. I almost want it to be the end of holidays and time to go to my new (grotty) school.
Later. I’ve just drawn a cactus like in my cactus story. It has the wishes on it that I’d make if my story was true. One of the cactus buds is the new baby all curled up still and not born. One is my dad. One is Gene and there’s a cross-looking one for Grandad and one is Copper. One is a house with a garden. Then I drew a pair of feet. I made them like mine but then I made them perfect. It’s a wish-cactus after all.
I love magic and when I draw I believe in it. But I know Peony’s right really, you have to manage without it. The only real-life magic is writing and drawing. It’s like, when you write about bad things and worries or draw them they get paler or go right out of your body and on to the paper.
I can even make myself laugh. I drew a last cactus bud. It’s Peony as a scary skeleton, it looks really funny. She loves it and wants me to do a big one for her room. I’ll do one dressed up in one of her crazy hats!
But first I’m going to start writing the story about the dunjon. I wonder what my new teacher will think of my cursive.
THE DUNJON AND THE GOSTE
by Alice Williamson-Stone
In the olden days there was a castle in Scotland called Castle Deeps. It was called that because the man who built it, before he built it dug a great deep hole in the top of a hill and built the castle on top of that. His name was Ronald McDonald and he was a bad cruel man.
One day when his great castle was finished he got bored and went to China to fight a war. He won the war and brought back with him lots of nice silk things like shirts and curtains and as well he brought back a little slave-girl he’d captured. Her name was Peony which is a Chinese flower.
Peony had to live in the cold castle and do jobs for Ronald McDonald. Like she had to polish his riding boots and bring him tea on a dainty tray (China tea of course which he’d brought back and she knew how to make) and run errands to the shops and keep his suits of armour oiled. She worked all the time and at night she had to sleep in a tiny room in the top of the castle which was very cold and dreary. She didn’t speak any Scottish and had no one to talk to and just did what she was told all the time and was dredfully homesick for China and her family. Ronald McDonald never let her have Chinese take-away, he made her eat bear meat and other Scottish food like porridge with lumps in.
One night she couldn’t stand it because Ronald McDonald had been shouting at her because the tea wasn’t strong enough and she’d left a smudj on his boots. So she cut off her long black pigtail and twisted the hairs into a long rope and climed down it to escape.
But there below was the mote which was like a river going right around the castle, and Ronald McDonald was swimming in it. He saw Peony climing down and he swam to her and grabbed her.
“How dare you run away from my castle!” he shouted. “Now you will go to my dunjon and you will never come out alive!”
Poor little Peony was taken down a lot of stairs into the big deep hole under the castle which was the dunjon. It was full of spiders and beetles and stijian gloom. She heard wicked Ronald McDonald locking the iron door with a big key. Then he shouted, “Now I will throw this key into the mote!” And Peony knew she would never come out of the dunjon but would die down there alone in the dark.
And she did. But first she scratched a vow on the wall in Chinese letters.
One night Ronald McDonald heard rattling noises coming from the dunjon. He knew Peony must’ve died long ago so he opened the door (he hadn’t really thrown the key away, he just said that to make Peony dispair) and then he got a big fright. Inside the door was a little skeleton standing rattling at him and wagging its jaw. He screamed and fainted.
That was just the beginning. When he came to, the little skeleton was gone, but that night he heard chains clanking and keys turning and strange cries and grones. But most of all he heard the rattling of bones. He couldn’t sleep. He was afraid to get out of bed. In the days he tried to forget it but he couldn’t. All he could think about was Peony left alone in the dunjon and at last after many terrible nights he made himself go down there.
“I’ll bury her skeleton” he said to himself. “That’ll be the end of it.”
But when he went down there was no skeleton, but he saw some Chinese writing on the wall. It was Peony’s vow. He knew some Chinese from when he’d been there, and now he read it. He was full of dred.
“I will come back and hornt my cruel master to his last hour.”
He fell back in a faint. While he was fainted, there was a creak and the door slowly closed. When he came to it was quite dark. He got to the door and tried to open it. Then he fell to the floor with a grone.
He’d left the key on the outside.
(And that’s no soppy ending, I don’t care what anybody says.)
October
Wait till I see Peony at school tomorrow! Something fantastic and incredable has happened!
Here is the letter Mum gave me when she got home from work tonight. It was adressed to me at Gene’s house, and Gene sent it on to Mum’s work adress. I’m going to stick it in here! I’m so excited I’ve forgotten where I put the glue so I’ll use selotape.
* * *
Dear Alice,
This is Johanna writing to you, I suppose I am a sort of step-mother for you but I am not a wicked one.
I have so much wanted to write to you before this. You know your dad and I are going to have a baby and we think for a long time we may want that it will be born in England. Now we have decide definitely. The child is due on Christmas Day so we are coming next month (November) to make ready for it.
That was one reason why we needed to have our house back. I felt bad Gene ask you to leave but we haven’t got a lot of money and where else could we live?
When your dad saw you in the hospital he had suddenly some very strong feelings about you. We both want to get to know you. And if you would agree, we want to share the baby with you.
Your dad has tried to write to you but he doesn’t know what to say. He feels shy because although you are his daughter, he doesn’t know you. But he will get over it. Men are better at talking face to face than for writing letters. He wants very much to get to know you, though it won’t happen all at once.
Please share this letter with your mother. I’ll write again when we get to London and I hope by then you will get used to the idea of to have a bigger family.
I can’t sign myself “Love, Johanna” yet because we don’t know each other. But I am rather sure I am going to love yo
u, so I will sign
Love that comes in future,
Johanna
* * *
I nearly went crazy when I read this letter. I loved all the mistakes! I kissed the page and pretended it was both of them and then I ran around the flat shouting and laughing and every time I passed Mum I hugged her and twerled her around. After a while I calmed down and then Mum said, “Yes, I’m glad, it’s very good news for you, Alice.” I said it’s better than good. Mum didn’t say anything.
I said “isn’t it good news for you too?” and she said, “Well it could be.” She had that funny look and I had a heartsink because I remembered about her wanting to get Dad and not being able to because he lived in Holland. I said, “You won’t give his name to the DSS will you?” Mum said, “I might. Don’t you want a nicer place to live?” I said, “But you said we’d stand on our own feet! He needs his money for Johanna and the baby.” Mum looked at me a long time. “Whose side are you on?” she said. I said, “You can have all my trust money, but don’t snitch on Dad, it’ll make trouble and I want things to be nice.”
Mum said, “I’m not making any promises. Nobody told him to go and make another family when he’s never given us a penny.”
I came in here then to write this. To help me think. Why is everything so complicated? Why does everything have a downside? I’ve just thought. Even telling Peony I’m getting my dad back might make her jelous. And if I told her about what Mum said, she’d sing her favourite TV ad, “there may be truuuuble ahead”.
Alice by Accident Page 10
