Alice's Long Road Home

by Rosie James

  Alice sealed the letter, then got up and glanced at the clock. Sam should be home soon – if he didn’t ring to say he was being held up – again. Anyway, she’d made a casserole for their supper, which was doing slowly in the oven. It wouldn’t spoil if he was late.

  Alice started to lay the table. She’d enjoyed writing to Fay.

  And thinking of writing…Alice admitted that she’d hardly given writing her novel a single thought since coming to London. It had been put to the very back of her mind. But hadn’t Sam remarked that being here was to be her chance of peace and solitude to try and finish it at last?

  Alice went over to the mirror above the grate, and glared at herself. She should grasp this opportunity now, while she had all this time on her hands. While there was still only her and Sam to think about. For heaven’s sake, get on with that novel…

  But – it was really weird, she thought, still glaring…the fact was, she didn’t feel like picking up her pen again…not just yet. She knew very well that the last thing a writer should do is to sit around waiting for inspiration, but that seemed to be what she was doing…waiting. Waiting for…for what? Waiting for the unequivocal happiness and serenity she’d thought would be hers after she was married…?

  She turned away from the mirror. If they were still at war, and the country’s sole preoccupation was working hard to win the peace with all the guidelines securely in place, life would be simpler – in a way, she thought.

  And felt really awful at thinking it.

  Carrying her large grocery basket, Alice made her way along to the street of small shops near the cottages.

  As the early months had been, May was mild and dry, the sun’s beams slipping in and out between the shadows as Alice bent to examine the fresh fruit and vegetables on display in front of the greengrocer’s shop.

  This was the part of her day that she liked most…buying all that she would need to keep them going until tomorrow. There was so much still on ration that you couldn’t buy too much of anything, but it seemed to be getting easier – despite bread now being limited – and vegetables were always available. Each day before she left the cottage, Alice always worked out what they were going to have for supper so that she never bought anything they didn’t really need. And for tonight she was going to make cauliflower cheese to go with some pork sausages. Followed by apple crumble and custard.

  Alice smiled to herself as she waited in the small queue of other shoppers waiting to be served. On the farm during the war, the lack of any food had rarely been spoken of…with milk and eggs from their cows and chickens, goat meat and pork from their own animals, and with vegetables growing in the extensive acreage, there had always been more than enough for everyone. But, it also had to be admitted, even those living in towns never experienced hunger to any degree. The rationing system, though grumbled at by some, proved to be amazingly successful. Some deprivation, obviously, but an annoying irritation rather than anything else. Still– the war had been over for almost three years and there was still so much that was restricted. Alice glanced at her list. She definitely needed their soap ration today, and the tea caddy only had a spoonful of leaves left. Still, it was funny, she thought as she popped the list back into her purse, there was a definite sort of pleasure in having to wait for things…as long as you knew you’d get them eventually. And then it became like a treat to obtain something you’d been short of for a while.

  It was her turn now, and the chirpy cockney owner threw the cooking apples Alice had chosen right up into the air, one by one, easily catching each in the open bag he was holding – a trick he’d performed many times before.

  ‘There y’are, lady – perfect they are, just like yourself! And that cauli? Right y’are! Tha’ yer lot? For you, lady, just one shillin’ and two pennies!’ He smiled down at her. He liked the pretty women who came into his shop – always all nicely dressed, and usually wearing a hat and white gloves – as if they were going somewhere special instead of just out to buy their grub. ‘It’s gonna be the first of flamin’ June tomorrow,’ he remarked to the shoppers in general – ‘so let’s ’ope for a good’un,eh? With plenty of sun to ripen off the strawberries!’

  He took Alice’s money from her, tipping his straw boater at her as she smiled back at him. This lady had been one of his regulars for the last few months, and she always knew exactly what she wanted without being a bloody pain in the neck. They weren’t all like that.

  After going next door for the rest of the things, plus a small loaf, Alice began strolling home. It was a leafy walk back to the mews, only taking her five or six minutes, and she sat down on a park bench for a few moments. She had decided to be positive and plan out her day. Shopping first, then a cup of coffee. Then she would have a go at her novel – whether she felt like it or not. But the pleasure she’d always found – from as far back as she could remember – in making things up, and setting them down on paper, seemed to have gone missing since the war. Well, to be fair to herself, she had actually got to chapter fourteen, but she wasn’t really happy with it. Somehow it wasn’t coming together…

  Alice fingered the gold anchor at her neck thoughtfully. As the chap in the shop had reminded everyone, it was the first day of June tomorrow. She had been married for five months…five months…and there was still no sign of any baby. Well, she’d had hopes for about three days last month, but it wasn’t to be.

  She leaned back against the seat, and gazed up into the blue sky, counting her blessings. She was married to the love of her life who was everything she could have dreamed of in a husband, they were living in a delightful cottage in a very desirable part of London, she still had all her friends, and a new family – yet she had to admit to sometimes feeling low and dispirited, wishing that she could have a long chat with her mother. Mama had always understood how Alice was feeling, could always say just the right thing to put her daughter’s mind at ease. And what would Alice say to Ada, now, if she was still here? Would she apologize for not conceiving a baby, for not starting to create an heir to the Watts line? After all, Alice was a fit, healthy young woman who knew the facts of life. There should be a baby by now. And it had frankly amazed Alice that she hadn’t become pregnant straight after their honeymoon…what on Earth was stopping it? Creation had been going on since the beginning of time…and just think of all those cows at Home Farm, obediently producing calves year after year. They’d never seemed to have had any difficulty.

  Alice picked up her basket from the ground and resumed her walk home. It was funny – but she and Sam had barely discussed the matter… not since that light-hearted remark he’d made on their wedding night about her being obliged to fill his house with babies. She shrugged as she wandered on. Well, he had enough babies to think about all day and every day, didn’t he…that was his trade. What he did. He didn’t need any more babies to think about. Not at the moment, anyway. All he must be concentrating on was the completion of his endless training…of all the ups and downs he encountered on a daily basis as the fragile lives of tiny babies hung in the balance, waiting for expertise, and current medical treatments to result in the successful removal of things like brain tumours. For evolving therapies to establish an optimistic – and realistic – hope and future for these small human beings. Just thinking of what her husband might be doing, perhaps at this very moment, made Alice shudder. And how dreadful for a woman to bring a child into the world who was incomplete…damaged…dangerously unwell…

  So – it was no wonder that Sam was keeping quiet about the fact that his wife was apparently still barren. That was a small point when compared with the reality of what he had to face in his daily work. And when you thought about it – maybe having no baby yet was for the best. Perhaps it was better to wait until Sam was more or less finished with his training. She would still only be thirty-two or thirty-three years old…that wasn’t too old, was it? There would still be plenty of time – wouldn’t there?

  Alice got back to the cottage, annoyed with her
self at feeling so down. All this thinking was doing her no good at all. She opened the front door, and there on the mat was a letter for her. A letter! Picking it up, she looked at it quickly.

  Fay!

  In her rush to open it, Alice almost tore the envelope, before sitting down on the sofa to devour the contents. This is what she needed all the time! A wise monkey letter!

  Watcher Alice me ol’ dear

  Thanks ever so much for your last letter. I love having them, and I’m sorry I’m a bit slow in replying, Alice. But I think about you – about us three – more or less all the time, if that’s any comfort.

  Talking of us three, I spoke to Evie yesterday, and we thought we’d come to London to see you on Saturday week – if you’re available. I expect you’re getting to know your way around the place by now, and can impress us with your knowledge of our capital city. But whatever we do it’ll be lovely to just catch up, won’t it? Evie got all excited when I suggested it so I hope it’s OK for you as well. She seems on top of the world, of course. Max has his feet well and truly under the Miles’s table and everything is going swimmingly in that direction. Evie reckons his divorce will be through by Christmas. So – perhaps an Easter wedding next year?

  My own situation is as uncannily dire as usual…boring as blazes at work but I mustn’t keep going on about that must I? I expect it’s me being boring, not the work. But there is a terrible sameness about it which frightens me at times. Does that sound weird, Alice? I mean, will I still be there, say, ten years from now, doing the same old things every day? Perhaps that’s what life is, after all. Routine, sameness. But some routines must be more exciting than the ones I’m subjected to.

  Naah. What I probably need is a good kick up the pants.

  With the weather being so fair most of the time, I’ve been able to take my mum and gran out in the car now and then, when my petrol ration allows. They’re both OK, though Gran had a bit of a heart scare the other day. Nothing serious, thank goodness. There’s plenty of “sameness” in their lives of course, but they’re old – you expect that when you’re old – it’s just that I’m not ready to accept that phase of life just yet. Last year was unusual and very exciting, thanks to your wedding…could you arrange something of similar interest to entertain us/me? I was about to suggest the patter of tiny feet, but I wouldn’t dream of mentioning such a thing. It would be indelicate, wouldn’t it. And while I, personally, have no wish to be a mother, I would quite like to be a godmother. So please put me on your list. On the top of your list, I mean.

  What else is there to say…? Miss Downs is as good as gold as usual, never complains about anything, and is always interested in what I’m up to. She said only last week that you are very welcome to come and stay should you want to…you know, for a weekend or something. When she met you on the couple of occasions you’ve stayed, she made a point of telling me, afterwards, how much she liked you, and you can take that as a compliment. Miss Downs is a woman of few words…unless something annoys her!

  For once, I don’t want a letter in reply to this – I want a phone call to say we can come to see you on Saturday week. Ring after six, as usual.

  So, chin chin chopper and here’s to me – I mean here’s to us…us three…

  Love, Fay.

  Alice slipped the letter carefully in with all her other ones. They were all “filed” in order – but her folder had become so thick she’d had to open two more. The prettiest package was bound in white – she’d bought it specially – and it held all the letters from her wedding guests, thanking her and Sam for the wonderful day they’d all enjoyed. She started to read one or two of them again, coming across the one from Mr. Pennington.

  My dear Alice – my dear Mrs. Carmichael…

  I am writing to thank you so very much for inviting me and my family to share your wedding day. What a lovely time you gave us all – and you looked enchanting. My wife and daughter were in raptures at your beautiful dress!

  It was extremely nice to meet your husband, Alice – I am sure that you are both going to be very happy together.

  I hope you will not mind me mentioning one more thing. Should the time ever come when you might wish to return to work I hope you will think of our Company first. Some time in the future we are hoping to open two new branches in Bristol – possibly in the Staple Hill and Downend areas. Of course, I realize that it is early days for you, and that you do not yet know what your life is going to hold, or how busy you’re going to be, but it might be possible that at some point you could consider working for us again, even part-time or on a temporary basis. Your particular expertise is fairly unusual, and we feel sorry that we have been obliged to let you slip through our fingers.

  In the meantime, please accept our very good wishes for your future – whatever it might hold.

  Yours sincerely – Paul Pennington.

  Alice smiled briefly as she put the letter back in its place, admitting to having felt really pleased when she’d first read it, and still did. It felt like a tiny life-line…a reassurance that she was valued in a job she knew she was good at and could be good at again.

  If only she felt as confident in every other way.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was the morning Alice had been waiting for ever since she’d received Fay’s letter, and she took one last look at herself in the mirror before leaving the house to go to Paddington to meet their train. Sam had been on duty since Thursday, and wouldn’t be home again until tomorrow night, so the weekend was free of any thought other than to enjoy time with those other wise monkeys.

  Alice was just about to close the front door behind her when she realized she’d left the wireless on, so she went back inside to switch it off. An announcement was being made, and at once she pricked up her ears.

  “It has just been announced by Buckingham Palace that Her Royal Highness, the Princess Elizabeth is expecting a baby. Due in November, the child will be second in line of succession to the throne…” The voice went on, giving a few more scant details – but Alice had stopped listening. A baby. A royal baby. The princess had been married a mere month before Alice, and was now happily pregnant…

  Alice sat down for a moment, ashamed at her own thoughts. She should be pleased for the princess, surely – but all Alice felt was jealousy. Horrible, unreasonable jealousy. It was just not fair…not fair… And as each month was passing her by, Alice’s underlying fear was that she would never produce a child. That nature had already decided that there would never be another member of the human race who would carry the Watts genes into the future…no other person in the world to represent her and her parents.

  Alice reached for her hanky to wipe her eyes. She was actually crying, and she couldn’t help it. Princess Elizabeth, in her gilded palace, was no doubt already smugly nursing her swelling stomach, knowing that she was not only giving her husband the child he would obviously want, but was providing an heir to the British throne. She had it all, and she had done it all. Good for her.

  And still not so good for you, Alice Watts…

  The train was on time as it steamed into Paddington, and almost before it came to a stop the doors started to open, passengers preparing to make a quick exit from the station. And there was Fay, one of the first to jump out, followed by Evie, both all smiles. Alice went forward straightaway to greet them, and the three engaged in the usual bear-hugs before beginning to make their way outside.

  It was a really beautiful June day, and even London with all its buildings and business seemed to wallow in the sunshine. Fay looked across at Alice as the three walked along together, arm in arm.

  ‘You’re looking fit as a flea, me old dear,’ Fay remarked, her casual glance taking in Alice’s colourful print cotton dress and sling-back, peep-toe sandals. ‘And your hair looks nearly as good as when I did it on your wedding day,’ she added.

  Alice smiled. These days she seldom bothered to pin her hair in the usual plait on top, preferring to leave it loose around her
shoulders – which she would never have done when she was working – either on the farm, or at the office. But it didn’t matter to anyone now, how she wore it. She only had herself to please.

  ‘And you’re both looking very well, too,’ Alice said, responding to Fay’s comments. And after a moment – ‘It’s so good to see you,’ she added.

  Fay threw her a shrewd look. ‘Why – haven’t you made any other friends yet?’ she said casually. ‘Of course they’d never be as good as us two, but there must be plenty of bright young things all waiting to be introduced to your clever, handsome husband…and night-life in London must be slightly more exciting than in Bristol – or Bath.’

  Alice shook her head quickly. ‘No…we haven’t been out much at night, and it’s quite lonely in the cottages because everyone leaves early and comes back very late. It seems that all the women go out to work as well – of course, we nod and smile at each other, and I’m sure they’re all very nice, but the opportunity never seems to arise for us to become close.’ She paused. ‘I think I’m the only person who’s there in the mews for most of every day.’