Don't Ask Alice

by Judi Curtin

  I leaned over Dad’s shoulder and looked at the voucher. I didn’t dare to touch it – it was much too precious for that.

  ‘Look,’ I said to Mum, ‘You have to spend it within three months. So you might as well … buy something new for my Confirmation.’

  Mum sighed.

  ‘But what about my jumper? I only have half a sleeve left to knit, and I have some really nice colours I want to add in. There’s a gorgeous purple I want to use.’

  Dad saw the look of horror on my face. He winked at me, and patted Mum’s arm.

  ‘You know what the church is like on Confirmation day, Sheila. It’s always crowded, and it’ll be far too warm for you to wear your jumper. Why don’t you save it for Christmas? Meg is right. Use the voucher and buy something new.’

  Mum nodded slowly.

  ‘I suppose you’re right. And it would be a sin to waste your prize.’

  I raced over and hugged Dad until he begged for mercy.

  * * *

  So next day, Mum, Rosie and I went to O’Donnell’s to buy the new outfit. The lady in there was really nice, and helped us pick out a lovely pale green dress and jacket. When Mum came out of the changing room, Rosie stared at her, and rubbed the dress and said,

  ‘You look pretty, Mummy!’

  Mum gave a kind of shy smile, and for once in her life she really did look pretty.

  The only bad moment was when the lady said that once Mum’s hair was blow-dried she’d look perfect, and that we all had bad hair days, didn’t we? Mum went as red as the hem of her almost finished jumper. I knew why. The lady was trying to be kind, but how could she know that Mum’s hair was always like this – all scraggy and wiry like the scourer we use for washing really dirty pots? How could she know that Mum hadn’t had her hair blow-dried since she was about fifteen?

  The lady looked at Mum’s red face, and realised her mistake. She leaned over and pulled a beautiful floaty scarf from a display. She swirled it around Mum’s neck.

  ‘Here,’ she said, ‘Let’s throw this in as a little extra – a present from us. It finishes off the outfit just perfectly.’

  Mum smiled at her, and went to change back into her dungarees.

  A few minutes later, she handed over the voucher, and I dragged her home before she could change her mind.

  That night, for the first time ever, I dreamed that I came from a normal family.

  Chapter four

  The morning of my Confirmation was lovely and sunny, so we walked to the church. I don’t like walking all that much, but at least it meant that horrible Melissa wouldn’t get to see our old, battered car.

  I felt really good in my new clothes. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had all new clothes in one go.

  Mum’s dress made her look kind of young and mysterious, and she had let me tie up her hair with one of my nice clips, so she didn’t look like a jungle-monster any more. Dad had his best suit on, and Rosie looked cute in a pretty pink dress that used to belong to our cousin in Cork. So we all strolled along, and I felt really happy with my maybe-not-so-crazy-after-all-family.

  When we got to the churchyard, Alice raced over and hugged me. I hugged her back. I was so, so glad that she was there, making her Confirmation with me, instead of making it in Dublin with a big load of strangers.

  ‘Megan,’ she screeched, like she hadn’t seen me just the day before. ‘Happy Confirmation day. You look fab. I love that shirt. And your Mum looks double-fab.’

  Rosie came over with her thumb in her mouth.

  ‘What ‘bout me?’ she asked.

  Alice picked her up and swung her around in the air.

  ‘You look fabbest of all,’ she said, and Rosie put her arms around Alice and gave her one of her special hugs.

  Just then Melissa walked past. She had a long, slow look at me and my family, and I could see that it made her really crazy that she couldn’t find anything to mock.

  I thought Melissa looked totally disgusting. Her super-fancy dress from Dublin was too sparkly and glittery, and she wasn’t able to walk properly in her high heels. Her hair was piled up on top of her head in a complicated heap of curls and swirls that looked a bit stupid. (And I couldn’t help hoping that a sudden gust of wind would come and mess it all up.)

  Melissa’s big sister was wearing an ugly long black dress, with huge safety pins stuck all around the sleeves. Her black lipstick made her look like someone who’d escaped from a vampire movie.

  Melissa’s parents looked all stiff and starchy, like they were going to dinner with the president or something.

  I could have mocked Melissa and her family, but I didn’t. I felt too happy.

  Soon Miss O’Herlihy came along, and rushed us into the church, and into our seats.

  I knew Mum was right – Confirmation isn’t about the clothes, but I was so happy not to be a freak for once, I said an extra prayer of thanks in my head.

  * * *

  After the ceremony, we all went across to our school for a little party. Alice, Grace, Louise and I sat on a windowsill, and drank bottles of orange and ate biscuits, and checked out what everyone was wearing.

  When it was time to leave, my family had to go and visit loads of boring relations. I’d have preferred a big party with one of those huge, bouncy slide-things, but unfortunately Mum had only got a new dress, not that personality transplant I’d been dreaming of.

  Later that evening we went out for dinner with Alice’s family. Alice’s mum, Veronica, and my mum wouldn’t exactly be friends, but we had bullied them into the idea of a joint Confirmation dinner. Alice’s mum agreed because otherwise it would have just been her, Alice’s dad, Peter, Alice and her brother Jamie, and that might have been a bit embarrassing. I still don’t know why my mum agreed. She’d have preferred a bean curry and brown rice at home.

  Anyway, I didn’t care, the restaurant was booked, and Mum couldn’t back out, even if she wanted to.

  We had a really nice time at the restaurant. Alice and I sat next to each other and chatted about our day. Jamie, who used to be really bold, was very good and he and Rosie coloured in about a hundred pictures together.

  Dad and Peter talked about soccer, just like they always did.

  Mum and Veronica tried really hard. Mum hardly mentioned the environment at all, and Veronica only mentioned shoes twice and handbags three times.

  At the end of the evening we all stood out in the street and said goodbye to each other. Veronica even gave Peter a kiss on the cheek before she left with Alice and Jamie.

  I gave a little sigh of happiness. Now everything was OK. I was sure of it. Alice’s parents were still separated, but at least they were being sensible about it. Now, I decided, Alice would be able to accept that her parents’ relationship was over forever. Now she could put all of her plotting and scheming behind her. Now we could concentrate on enjoying our last few months in sixth class.

  I should have known better.

  Chapter five

  Next morning, Alice called over while I was still in my pyjamas. Mum let her in, and she came to my room and sat on the bed. She didn’t say anything. When Alice was quiet i t was usually time to get worried. I looked at her carefully.

  ‘Everything OK?’ I asked.

  She shrugged.

  ‘S’pose so.’

  ‘Yesterday was great, wasn’t it?’ I said.

  ‘S’pose so.’

  ‘And didn’t Melissa look totally stupid in that dress?’

  ‘S’pose so.’

  ‘And what about that crazy hairdo she had? Bet it didn’t last the whole day.’

  ‘S’pose so.’

  I waited, but Alice didn’t seem to have anything else to say.

  I grabbed my clothes and went to take a shower. When I came back, a few minutes later, Alice was still sitting in the same place. I was starting to feel nervous, so I tried again to make conversation.

  ‘Remember when you hid in this room that time last year, to try to make your mum come bac
k to Limerick? That was really funny, wasn’t it? I can’t believe you stayed in here for so long …’

  Alice nodded, but she didn’t laugh like she usually did.

  I sat beside her, and shook her arm.

  ‘Come on, Al,’ I said. ‘It’s me – Megan. Tell me. What’s going on?’

  Alice gave a big, long sigh.

  ‘It’s Mum and Dad.’

  I shouldn’t really have been surprised. Since Veronica and Peter had split up, Alice had been really mixed up. It had been stupid of me to think that everything was all right, just because Alice was back living in Limerick again.

  ‘What about your mum and dad?’ I asked.

  ‘Well, remember I told you before that I knew they’d never get back together?’

  I nodded, and she continued,

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. I think maybe they could get together again. It’s stupid for them to go on living like this.’

  I wasn’t sure what to say to this, so Alice kept talking,

  ‘You were there yesterday – you saw them. They were like best friends.’

  This wasn’t really true. What really happened was that for the first time in years, they hadn’t sounded like total enemies. I knew I couldn’t say that to Alice though, so I said nothing.

  Alice sat in silence for a minute then she jumped up as if we hadn’t just had that conversation.

  ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s play Swingball. Best of five games. Bet I beat you.’

  I got up and followed her into the garden, glad that the awkward moment had passed, and that Alice was back to her normal self.

  Once again, I should have known better.

  The first sign of something strange going on was that I actually beat Alice at Swingball, something I hadn’t done since the time we were six years old and Alice was playing with a broken right arm. I was glad I had won, but it didn’t feel right somehow – like Alice hadn’t really been trying.

  We went and sat in Rosie’s playhouse. Alice grabbed my arm, and said, ‘Megan,’ in a real breathless kind of way. I looked at her, and saw a funny glint in her eye. It was the old glint that always made me very scared. The glint that meant she was plotting and scheming again. The glint that always led to trouble in the end.

  I knew there was nothing I could do.

  ‘What?’ I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.

  Alice grinned at me.

  ‘I think it’s time Dad got a girlfriend.’

  Hello?

  Where had that come from?

  Maybe I hadn’t heard her properly.

  ‘Pardon?’

  She spoke slowly and clearly.

  ‘I said, I think it’s time Dad got a girlfriend.’

  I wondered if she’d hit her head with the Swingball bat or something.

  I folded my arms and looked her in the eye, and tried not to notice the funny glint.

  ‘Alice O’Rourke,’ I said. ‘What are you on? When you thought your mum had a boyfriend you nearly lost it. And a few minutes ago you said you thought your parents should get back together, so why on earth do you think your dad should get a girlfriend?’

  She grinned at me.

  ‘You’re a clever girl, Megan. You’re so clever you can do long multiplication without a calculator. You go figure it out.’

  I tried to figure it out. Really I did. But it was hard to think straight because all I knew for sure was that Alice was up to something, and that, before too long I was going to find myself right up to my neck in her crazy plan.

  After a minute I looked up at her.

  ‘I give up. This i s harder than long multiplication. This is even harder than long division. You’re going to have to tell me – why should your dad get a girlfriend?’

  Alice smiled at me

  ‘Because it would make Mum jealous.’

  I still didn’t understand.

  Alice continued,

  ‘You know what Dad’s like. He’s always there. Always available. He’s like an old pair of jeans that you’re comfortable in, but don’t think about very much. If Dad suddenly got interested in someone else, it might make Mum pay a bit more attention to him. She might realise that leaving him was a mistake after all.’

  I put my hands over my face. It did make sense – in a crazy kind of way. I didn’t want to admit this to Alice, though. I didn’t want to encourage her. I tried to sound casual.

  ‘Even if a girlfriend for your dad was a good idea. Where do you think this girlfriend is going to come from? Girlfriends don’t grow on trees you know. And last time I checked you couldn’t buy them on eBay.’

  Alice sighed.

  ‘Ha, ha! Very funny. Not. Know what, Megan? You always make everything sound difficult.’

  I laughed.

  ‘That’s only because you make everything sound so easy.’

  I was glad to see that she grinned back at me. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

  Just then Mum called from the back door.

  ‘Megan, Alice, come on in. I’ve made you some delicious carrot and apple juice.’

  Alice and I made faces at each other and got up to go inside. I knew the matter wasn’t finished with though.

  I knew that Alice was just revving up for another one of her crazy plans.

  Chapter six

  When I called for Alice the next morning she didn’t mention her mum, or her dad, or anything about girlfriends or secret plans. By the time we got to school, I was beginning to relax.

  Maybe Alice had got sense overnight, I thought.

  Maybe we could spend the next few weeks just enjoying ourselves.

  And maybe one day, purple and yellow stripy pigs will fly past my bedroom window singing ‘Oops I did it again’.

  * * *

  At lunchtime, just when I was looking forward to the two of us hanging out with Grace and Louise and swapping Confirmation stories, Alice dragged me off to a corner of the playground, away from everyone else. She pulled me behind a shed, and said in a real dramatic voice – ‘Miss O’Herlihy.’

  I had no idea what she was on about.

  ‘What about Miss O’Herlihy?

  ‘She’s perfect.’

  I didn’t say anything. Since when was Alice so interested in teachers?

  Alice poked me in the arm.

  ‘Well?’ she said. ‘What do you think, Meg? Isn’t Miss O’Herlihy just totally perfect?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Well she’s OK, I suppose – for a teacher. But I wouldn’t exactly say she’s perfect. Remember that maths test last week? She marked two of my sums wrong even though they were right. And before Christmas she got really cross with Grace over something that wasn’t her fault at all. And––’

  Alice interrupted me.

  ‘Pay attention, Dork-head. I don’t mean Miss O’Herlihy is perfect as a teacher. I mean she’d be a perfect girlfriend for Dad.’

  I don’t like Alice calling me Dork-head (well, I suppose I don’t like anyone calling me Dork-head), but I decided to ignore it – I had more important things on my mind.

  ‘But Miss O’Herlihy is a teacher.’

  Alice looked at me like I was totally stupid.

  ‘Well, duh. I had noticed that,’ she said. ‘But teachers are people too.’

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  ‘But your dad, and Miss O’Herlihy, that’s like…. it’s…. I mean… that’s just gross.’

  Alice folded her arms.

  ‘No it’s not. And anyway, I don’t want them to fall in love or anything. I’d just like it if they went out together once or twice. Just long enough for Mum to find out, and hopefully get a bit worried.’

  This was starting to make sense, and I really didn’t want that. It was all too weird for me. I decided to change direction.

  ‘Miss O’Herlihy probably has a boyfriend already.’

  Alice shook her head.

  ‘Nah. Doubt it. If she did she wouldn’t stay so late after school. She’d be
rushing home to get ready for dates and stuff.’

  I wasn’t sure if Alice was right or not. All I knew was that if she tried to get her dad to go out with Miss O’Herlihy, things could turn very nasty. And I so did not want to be involved when it happened.

  Alice giggled suddenly.

  ‘I know exactly what I’m going to do. It’s simple.’

  I sighed. Alice didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word ‘simple’.

  Alice went on,

  ‘I’m going to be so bold this afternoon, that Miss O’Herlihy will have to send for my parents. I’ll fix it so only Dad comes in, and—’

  I interrupted her, ‘—and your dad will say, “Thanks for telling me that my daughter is the boldest girl you’ve ever taught, and by the way, you’ve got beautiful eyes and what a pretty dress you’re wearing today and will you go out with me?” I don’t know, Al. Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t see that plan working very well.’

  Alice stamped her foot.

  ‘OK, Smarty-Pants, so it’s not the best plan ever. It’s just the best plan I can think of right now. Can you do any better?’

  I sighed again. I sooo did not want to be involved, but I couldn’t let Alice continue with this stupid plan. After my trip to Dublin at mid-term, I knew exactly how bold Alice could be – and it wasn’t pretty. She’d just end up in loads and loads of trouble. And Miss O’Herlihy wouldn’t send for her dad anyway. She never did stuff like that. She’d probably think of a totally disastrous punishment, like banning Alice from our graduation party or something.

  Alice stamped her foot again. I wondered if I should tell her that stamping your foot is a bit immature for someone who will be going to secondary school in a few months time. Even Rosie doesn’t stamp her foot any more, and she’s only four.

  Alice seemed to be waiting for an answer.