Alice's Long Road Home

by Rosie James

  ‘Of course it is,’ Alice replied. And without thinking, she said airily – ‘Oh, no more than twenty-five – or thirty – at the first count…’

  Well, just to say there’ll be twelve of us would sound utterly pathetic.

  ‘I hope that’s OK, Sam,’ she added.

  ‘Of course it is. Invite as many friends as you like,’ he replied.

  They crossed the road, and stopped for a moment or two to look at the flower arrangements in a florist’s window. And Alice thought – now he’s going to ask me what my colour scheme is going to be – because male members of a wedding always wore buttonholes the same colour as the bridal bouquet…didn’t they? That was something Alice had only just thought of…what flowers would she choose, for herself and for her bridesmaids…and would she be responsible for the ones to decorate the church as well…?

  But no comment was made about flowers, and they walked on together, like they’d always done. Talking when they felt like it, and enjoying the phases of silence when there was nothing either of them wanted to say. Then –

  ‘By the way, I hope you didn’t waste any time worrying about where we might be living next year, Alice,’ Sam said, glancing down at her. ‘It’s bound to be somewhere in London – but we will not be squatting, I can assure you…my sister was talking through her hat the other day.’ He squeezed Alice’s arm. ‘I know that particular problem is a long way off, yet, but leave it to me. You won’t worry about it, will you? Or about anything else, will you?’

  Alice squeezed him back. ‘Course not,’ she said, trying to convince herself that she meant it. Because she couldn’t help worrying, about pretty much all of it, if she was honest, especially of what the future held for her and Sam. Beautiful letters were one thing, but this was soon to be face-to-face reality about each other which they’d both have to deal with. At one time, just to know that she was to become his wife would have been everything to her…but it wasn’t only that now, Alice admitted. From somewhere, probably thanks to the war, she seemed to have gained a freer independence of spirit. Alice smiled inwardly. Fay’s permanent position on her high horse had something to do with that! But it wasn’t just that. Alice felt more than ready to take her place as an equal in the world. She was no longer the Carmichaels’ ex-nanny – she was herself. She could certainly never be like her mother who’d accepted her lot as an unambitious, uncomplaining wife waiting for her husband to come home drunk, night after night without question.

  And although Sam knew Alice well, had known her for so many years – did he really know the woman she had become, the woman he would be marrying?

  The following Saturday morning, Alice caught the 11am train to Bristol, leaving Valerie to shut the shop at midday.

  ‘I’m meeting Fay and Eve for a sandwich lunch,’ she’d explained to the younger girl, ‘and then we’re having our first expedition to see what, if any, wedding dresses are on offer.’

  Valerie had pouted. ‘Oh, I hope you don’t find one too soon,’ she’d said, ‘because I want to help you look, Alice! I’ve already had a bit of a nose in the town, and there are two I’ve seen so far…hardly exciting, but at least they’re white. And long. Anyway, you can never tell until you try things on, can you?’

  Now, Alice picked up her overnight bag and waited for the train to come to a stop.

  The others were there, standing by the car, as Alice left Temple Meads, and Fay said at once –

  ‘Now – I thought we’d have a bite of something at the British Restaurant in Park Street. I know it’s a bit cheap and cheerful, but we don’t want to waste time hanging around to be served anywhere else, do we?’ she added.

  When Fay was in organizational mode no one argued, and after they’d eaten, Fay parked the car outside and they began the trek through the streets to find what they were looking for.

  Three hours later, with no luck, they found a seat in St. James’s Park and Eve passed around a bag of Mintos she’d brought with her. She glanced at the others.

  ‘Well, I would never have believed – even in these straitened times – that there would be absolutely nothing worth considering,’ she said. She pursed her lips. ‘That last one we saw – I really thought we were on to something, didn’t you?’ she went on. ‘It looked gorgeous on the model in the window…and I could see you in that one, Alice.’

  Alice shrugged. ‘Yes. It was a pity that it had already been sold,’ she said.

  Fay cut in. ‘I told them – in no uncertain terms – that it was ridiculous to display something that was not for sale,’ she said firmly, ‘but the girl did explain that they had so little stock – bridal stuff or not – that they were forced to show something in the window or everyone might think they’d closed for good.’

  ‘Yes, it’s difficult for everyone, isn’t it – whether you’re buying, or selling,’ Alice said.

  After a minute, Eve said, ‘Well, look, don’t let’s get downhearted. We haven’t tried Bath yet, and there are several dress shops in the town. We’re sure to find something in Bath.’ She handed more Mintos around. ‘When can we all meet up again? Can it be soon?’ she asked hopefully.

  ‘It can’t be next weekend for me,’ Fay said at once.

  ‘And I can’t manage the one after that,’ Alice said, ‘because I’m seeing Gloria and Don then. So it’s going to be June, isn’t it, before we can go looking again.’ She paused thoughtfully. ‘But in the meantime, I can keep a close eye on what’s in Dorchester – something might come in, you never know. And if it does, and I like it,’ she added quickly, ‘I’ll ring you, and you can both come down to veto my choice. I promise not to commit myself to anything until you’ve seen it. OK?’

  They sat there for a few minutes, watching the light traffic wend its way through the streets, watching passers-by wander along and stare in at half-empty windows, and Alice thought, privately, that it was a good job that dress they’d seen in the window had not been for sale, because she would never, never pay that much for a dress. A wedding dress – which would be used just the once. That would be a criminal waste of money.

  So…it wasn’t only a question of actually finding a suitable dress, it was the question of what it was going to cost. And that went for the bridesmaids’ dresses too…she knew that the bride’s family always paid for those, as well. Alice bit her lip. The trouble was that, in her case, she was her family – with a finite amount of money at her disposal… Sam had, in a roundabout way, made a casual comment about how much she was going to need, and whether he could help, but Alice had brushed off any further conversation about that. Traditionally this was a bride’s family’s matter, a tradition seldom broken, and it was not going to be broken this time, either…

  Fay broke in on her thoughts. ‘By the way – if we had managed to get it today,’ she said, ‘were you going to lug it back to Dorchester with you? Because wedding dresses come in great big, chunky cardboard boxes – for obvious reasons.’

  ‘I…hadn’t thought about that,’ Alice admitted. Fay had another question.

  ‘Anyway, where will you be leaving from…on the big day?’ she enquired. Then she frowned. ‘It won’t be from their place – up in Clifton – will it?’ she demanded. ‘Saint Samuel should not get even a peep at you until you arrive at the church in all your glory.’

  Oh dear, Alice thought. Then – quickly – ‘No, of course I shan’t be leaving from Clifton,’ she said. She cleared her throat. ‘Look – shall we go across the road for a cup of tea? I’m parched – and that little café over there looks all right.’

  Alice had agreed with Sam that she would bring Fay and Eve with her to Clifton at 6.30, and presently, after they’d walked all the way back to get the car, the three girls drove up the familiar hill, past the university and the museum and the shops, the Whiteladies cinema with a long queue of people waiting outside hoping to get in for the next performance. All the sights so familiar to Alice that she could have drawn a map with her eyes closed.

  But before that, t
hey had gone into the Royal Hotel for yet another cup of tea. Not that they needed it, but what they did need was a chance to have a wash and brush up after their afternoon’s trail around the shops.

  ‘We cannot appear looking like a trio of gypsies,’ Fay had said firmly. ‘We must make a good impression – you and me, Evie. Mustn’t let the side down.’

  In fact, all three were wearing the same outfits they’d worn a couple of weeks ago at the farm, and Alice had smiled at Fay’s remark. Her friends could, would, never let her down. And anyway, Sam was not the critical sort – he probably wouldn’t even notice what they were wearing.

  They got to Clifton, and Fay parked the car outside. She whistled through her teeth.

  ‘Hmm, this looks rather a nice little two-up and two-down,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, what a beautiful old house,’ Eve said slowly. ‘It’s massive, isn’t it. Did you say your mother used to clean it all, Alice?’

  ‘No – not exactly,’ Alice said. ‘Two ladies used to come in twice or three times a week to do most of that, but my mother – and me, later – used to look after our floor – the second floor – where our quarters and the twins’ bedrooms were, and the nursery and the play room.’

  Even uttering those words sent Alice’s memory flying back, flying right back to those early days when she herself had been a young child, and then at fourteen, being given charge of Rose and Margaret as their part-time teacher before they’d gone off to boarding school. Alice sighed briefly. Very little had happened to her before meeting the Carmichaels, but so very, very much afterwards…her rich pattern of life included a world war, learning how to milk cows, running a busy commercial office, and then coming full circle to be engaged to Samuel Carmichael. To, hopefully, eventually, being part of the family she had adored and revered since she had come within their dazzling orbit.

  Much later at the dining room table, Alice looked across at Fay and Eve and smiled to herself. Smiled at the reaction there’d been when she’d introduced her friends to Sam earlier. Evie had almost buckled at the knees, while even Fay had looked suitably interested.

  Because Sam – casually dressed, but immaculate as usual – had been his normal, understated charming self. The girls had hung on his every word, and he had listened carefully to anything either of them said, laughing easily at their description of the goings-on at Home Farm.

  ‘It sounds to me as if you three had rather a good war,’ he’d commented, ‘in fact, I couldn’t wait for Alice’s letters.’ He had glanced at them seriously. ‘And I quickly learned how well you all got on together, and how well you coped with a life completely alien to any of you,’ he’d added.

  ‘Would you describe your own war as a good one, Sam?’ Fay asked, with her usual directness. ‘You were in London for most of it, weren’t you? The bombing could hardly have been much fun.’

  Sam looked serious for a moment. ‘The Blitz was a terrible time,’ he said slowly, ‘seeing the devastation, particularly in the East End is something I shall never forget – nor the quite unbelievable courage and cheerfulness of everyone.’ He wasn’t going to go on and describe some of the wounded who had been brought into the hospital, or of how every skill he’d learned had been put to the test. Of how all the medical teams had worked, sometimes on sixteen-hour shifts, without respite. Of how he had sometimes collapsed into bed just long enough to recover before doing it all again the next day, and the next and the next. Of what he had learned about himself, and about those working around him. Invaluable lessons on life and human forbearance in the face of disaster. Nor was he going to say that in the middle of all this he was still studying, still being tested and observed, still waiting for results before moving on to the next stage…

  Unsurprisingly, Betty had produced a wonderful meal, bustling in and out from the kitchen to make sure that they all had enough of everything – and obviously thrilled to be cooking for visitors. And she had clearly loved meeting Fay and Eve. Her eyes had shone with interest…these were Alice’s friends, and working on that farm had helped to win the war.

  Presently, Sam suggested that they took their coffee into the morning room. ‘I’m sorry my father couldn’t be here to meet you,’ he said, ‘but he’s had a couple of difficult cases at the Infirmary this week so he decided to stay there overnight, just in case.’ Sam glanced at his watch. ‘Now – I have two quick telephone calls to make,’ he said, ushering the girls in front of him, ‘but I shouldn’t be long, and then you can tell me more about all the funny stuff that goes on at Home Farm.’

  Now alone together, the three girls sat on the long sofa drinking their coffee, and after a moment Eve said dreamily –

  Oh Alice…Sam is…so…lovely, isn’t he?’ She paused. ‘I know you are going to be blissfully happy together.’

  Alice smiled. ‘Yes Evie…he is lovely,’ she said. ‘Well, I think so. I’ve always thought so,’ she added.

  ‘And this house is rather lovely, too,’ Fay observed, going over to look out at the long, narrow garden, one side of which was obviously a kitchen plot with various vegetables and herbs growing there. ‘Hey – are those potato plants I can see there?’ she demanded, and Alice and Eve got up and went over to join her.

  ‘Yes of course they are, Fay!’ Eve said at once. Then –glancing at Alice – ‘I remember you telling us when we first met, Alice, that you used to pick potatoes here and wash them under the tap and then when they were cooked you’d eat them, dipped in salt…you made it sound so delicious! And you also said that picking them was easy! Huh!’

  ‘Picking half a dozen plants was easy,’ Alice said.

  ‘Who does the gardening here?’ Fay wanted to know. ‘Not poor Betty, surely?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ Alice said. ‘No – they have a gardener…he’s been here for years. And apparently that part of the land was always lawn, like the other side,’ she went on, ‘but one day – not long after the Great War had ended – Mrs. Carmichael heard about a young chap who’d been injured and gassed, and who couldn’t find a job, so she invented one for him. She found out that he was able to do light gardening, so she decided that one side of theirs, here, should be dug up and cultivated. He started the job almost at once, I believe – that was before my mother and I came – and when I was a child he seemed to me like someone who’d never lived anywhere else but in that little garden. Part of the actual earth. ’ Alice added, smiling. ‘And the little greenhouse right down there at the end was where the tomatoes were grown, and where the small seedlings were planted out in trays. It was quiet and peaceful down there, and Mrs. Carmichael said that seeing new growth, watching everything start to come alive, had helped the poor man to forget his terrible experiences – which he never, ever spoke about, so she said.’

  There was silence for a moment as the three girls continued to gaze out. ‘Obviously, I haven’t lived here for a long time,’ Alice went on, ‘ but I’m sure he still does the gardening – he’s called Henry, and he used to let us help him pull the carrots and the potatoes and eat the first tiny tomatoes as soon as they’d ripened.’ She turned away. ‘And I know that Mrs. Carmichael always insisted that he had his midday meal here, and that he was given a loaf or a pie to take home in his pocket. Betty told us all about that.’

  ‘Hmm, Mrs. Carmichael sounds a saintly lady to me,’ Fay observed, still staring out. Then, casting a critical eye around the huge, high-ceilinged room, she added, ‘Are all the rooms this size?’

  ‘Some are a bit smaller,’ Alice said, ‘but the bedrooms – especially the ones on the first floor – they’re very big, too.’ She looked away for a second. She would love to have shown her friends all over this lovely house, but that time hadn’t come yet. Alice was not Mrs. Carmichael, not yet, and this was not her house to show people around.

  And Fay had been right. Helena had been an irreplaceable, saintly lady. An example which it would be difficult to follow. But…did she want to be exactly like Sam’s mother, Alice asked herself? Even if she cou
ld achieve that status?

  She sighed inwardly. She would certainly want to be as good and kind as Helena, of course she would, but those virtues on their own would not be enough for Alice…not now….not any more…

  Much, much later, after they’d enjoyed more glasses of good wine, Fay and Eve made their goodbyes – making a special point of hugging their thanks to Betty – and Sam and Alice waved them off, watching until the Austin was out of sight.

  It had been a lovely evening – as Alice had known it would be – with Fay and Eve and Sam getting to know each other. And he was the perfect host, had made her friends feel completely comfortable and at home. Conversation had flowed – as had the time. It was almost midnight before the girls had left.

  But it was even much later – almost 1.30 – before Sam eventually kissed Alice goodnight. And before she made her way up the back stairs to her own, familiar room on the second floor.

  Mid-morning the following day, Sam stood with Alice on the station platform, waiting for her train to arrive. His own back to London in ten minutes was on another platform. He glanced down at her, looking rueful.

  ‘It’s going to be a few weeks before we can see each other again,’ he said. ‘I’ve got these exams coming up – which means a lot of study without any delightful distractions.’ He smiled, and kissed the tip of her nose. ‘But if I get a sudden window of release, I’ll ring you at the office at six. OK? And you’ll write, won’t you, Alice? With all your wise and funny advice for me, like you used to do.’ He paused, and kissed her again. ‘Sorry, but I did warn you – didn’t I – about all the times I was likely to be absent? About all the times I would have to be somewhere else?’