Alice's Long Road Home

by Rosie James

  Max, who hadn’t said a word for the last few minutes, felt like giving his wife a round of applause. But he’d known she would have to get it off her chest, and he admired her for it.

  ‘So…’ Frank Miles was intrigued to know a little bit more. ‘What is the style of this music?’ he said. ‘What form does it take…what’s it called?’

  Now Max spoke. ‘It’s called…rock and roll,’ he began, and Ellen said –

  ‘Rock and what?’

  ‘Rock and roll,’ Max repeated. ‘It’s on the wireless all the time, Mrs. Miles, so you may have heard some of it.’

  ‘Mother and Father don’t listen to the light programme, Max,’ Eve said.

  ‘It’s become popularized by an American called Bill Haley & His Comets,’ Max went on enthusiastically, ‘and some of their very successful songs are called “Shake, Rattle and Roll”, and “Razzle and Roll”, and last year a very popular single record by Ike Turner came out called “Rocket 88”. Rock and roll is going to take over the world! Then there’s “Rockin’ at Midnight” and “Good Rocking Tonight”…and…’ Max went on outlining all the popular numbers, until Eve’s father interrupted gently –

  ‘Well, I think you’ve given us a pretty good idea of what it’s all about,’ he said mildly, ‘and I’m sure you will all have lots of fun with it.’

  As they got ready for bed later, Eve’s father said – ‘I’m sure there’s no need for us to be at all concerned about Eve going to Spain with the group, Ellen. This “rock and roll” nonsense is obviously a shallow, passing fad. Here today, gone tomorrow.’ He paused, remembering. ‘I mean – how can anyone take seriously things called “Shake, Rattle and Roll” and “My Two Timin’ Woman”!’ He shook his head. ‘Just flotsam and jetsam rubbish, that’s all it is.’

  He got into bed and thumped his pillow. ‘Time will tell whether it will bear any comparison with the music that has lasted down the ages and which will go on lasting.’ He glanced across at his wife. ‘In my opinion, nothing coming over from America will ever have lasting value…they have no history of their own worth talking about, and by the sound of it they have no idea how to establish themselves musically, for the future, either.’

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Alice woke early. She lay still for a while, dreading the moment when she would get up, go into the bathroom, and confirm her worst fears. But she didn’t need confirmation. Alice knew. The familiar dragging pain above her groin at this time of her month told its own story.

  Presently, in the bathroom, she filled a glass with water, added two paracetamol and stood for a moment watching them melt and fizz to the top. Then she drank quickly, replaced the tumbler on the shelf, and went back into the bedroom. She climbed into bed, moving over to lie on Sam’s side and leant her face into his pillow.

  It was 4 am. Sam had been staying at the Infirmary for the last two days and nights, and was expected back sometime later this morning. He’d been assisting at a long, very delicate operation – a very difficult operation, he’d explained – and had had to remain there on stand-by.

  Alice thrust her hands under his pillow, bringing it under her neck and burying her face into it, breathing in what little of him she could detect. Pretending that he was there alongside her, consoling her.

  But she was glad he wasn’t. Alice had to get used to the news herself first, before telling her husband. She had been so sure that this time was her time. Their time. That at last – at last – she had succeeded in starting a new life…that a tiny baby had begun its journey into the world.

  Now her tears began to flow, and with her fingers holding onto her anchor necklace tightly, Alice wept bitter tears until there were no more left. Then she drifted into a light, troubled sleep, her last coherent thoughts fragmented and despairing.

  ‘Sorry to disturb you.’

  It was 6 am, and Sam’s whispered comment brought Alice from her unpleasant doze. She glanced back quickly as he got into bed beside her. He didn’t ask her why she was lying in his place, he just put his arm around her waist, drawing her into him and burying his face into her tousled hair. He kissed her lightly once or twice on the back of her neck and sighed deeply.

  Alice turned properly to face him. He looked drawn and tired, and she put her arm up around his neck so that she could reach his mouth and kiss him gently on the lips.

  ‘You look exhausted, Sam,’ she whispered. Then – ‘Tell me about it, tell me how it all went.’

  He didn’t answer for a few seconds, he just lay there with his eyes closed and Alice immediately knew that something was very wrong.

  ‘The baby died.’

  His voice was so low she only just heard what he’d said.

  Several minutes passed before he broke the silence. ‘We knew – everyone knew – that this operation hung in the balance,’ he said quietly. ‘We had done all the preliminary checks, over and over again, we’d assessed everything that could go wrong. And we knew that a lot could.’ He paused. ‘If we hadn’t operated, there’d have been no hope, so there was no option. But…we were two teams, and we all thought we could save this little life. That there was a very good chance we would succeed.’ Sam gave another deep sigh. ‘We had warned the parents what we were up against and they fully understood, fully appreciated what we had to do.’ He shook his head briefly. ‘They must be exhausted too, because they haven’t left the hospital for the whole time,’ he added, ‘they just waited patiently for us to go in and give them the news.’

  Alice knew how deeply this had affected Sam, and she kissed him again very softly. ‘You – none of you – could have done any more, darling,’ she said quietly. ‘And I’m sure the parents appreciated that.’

  ‘Yes, they did,’ Sam replied, ‘they said they did. But…it is a terrible thing to actually say those words to them…to say that their baby hadn’t made it. In the end this little thing…Thomas – they’d had him christened just before the op – had just been too tiny, too fragile…’

  Sam turned away, wanting to shut it out. ‘It’s a terrible thing to lose a baby,’ he repeated.

  There was a long moment before Alice replied. ‘Yes. It is,’ she said quietly.

  Within minutes Sam was deeply asleep, and she lay watching him for a long time, her eyes tracing the frown lines on his forehead. She knew her husband well, knew that he was experiencing a sense of guilt that he – that they – had failed. And Alice remembered, again, what he’d said to her when he’d proposed. Was she prepared to join him in his arduous, chosen profession, could she stand it, and be there when things went wrong – or right? To put up with everything that went with it, as his mother had had to do all her life? And Alice’s answer would be the same now as it had been then. She would always be there, because – if it was possible to love Samuel Carmichael any more than she already did – to her, he was extra wonderful in his hour of emotional need.

  She wasn’t going to tell him about losing their own baby. Not yet. He’d had enough bad news for one day. And anyway, face it, Alice Watts, she told herself, it hadn’t been a real baby, it had been wishful thinking that had kept her going for the last three months.

  She would tell Sam sometime…when they both felt a bit stronger.

  ‘What’s this doing here Alice?’

  Alice sat bolt upright, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was 8.30 and they had both drifted into a lazy doze after Sam had come back earlier. Now, he was standing by the window and looking across at her with such an expression on his face that for the first time in her life Alice was afraid of her husband. How on earth had she forgotten to hide her tablets in her handbag…why had she left them there on the dressing table…?

  She drew the bed clothes up around her as if to give herself some protection. Then she found her voice.

  ‘Oh…they’re…they’re just something I’ve been taking for…for…’

  ‘I know exactly what they’re prescribed for,’ he said curtly, ‘and I see from the label that they’ve been pre
scribed for you.’

  There was a long pause as the two stared at each other across the room, then Sam put the bottle back where he’d found it and came over to look down at her.

  ‘Why – why didn’t you tell me about it, Alice?’ he said slowly. ‘Didn’t you think I would be interested? Didn’t you think that I deserved to know?’

  Alice waited for her heart rate to settle down. To be found out in any kind of deception was painful. Then – ‘I didn’t want to worry you, Sam,’ she said calmly, ‘because you always have so much on your mind I didn’t want to give you anything else to have to think about, to have to worry about.’

  He cut in quickly. ‘But I want to worry about you,’ he said, ‘or what I mean is I want to know anything and everything that concerns or upsets you.’

  He sat down beside her on the bed and took her hand in his. ‘Have you been feeling so wretched that you went to a doctor instead of sharing this with me? With me? If so, what a dreadful husband I must be,’ he said.

  ‘No! Sam…it’s not your fault, none of this is your fault!’ Alice said. ‘And apart from not wanting to worry you, the other reason I haven’t said anything is because I feel so terribly guilty…so ashamed.’ She swallowed. ‘Here with you, Sam, I have everything anyone could possibly want… I am so well-blest – yet still I can’t seem to be happy. And I thought that by going to a doctor – a stranger – and explaining how I felt he might be know of something I could take that might help…’ Alice’s voice trailed off. This all sounded so pathetic.

  He didn’t answer for a moment, then, heavily – ‘If you are feeling guilty, Alice, it’s nothing to the guilt I am feeling at this moment,’ he said. ‘That I should have expected you to filter into my life and take up your position as if it was going to be the easiest thing in the world for you when it can’t be easy at all.’ He ran his hand through his hair. ‘And I don’t know what we can do to sort it out.’

  ‘Oh Sam…’ Alice was filled with remorse. He was upset, genuinely upset, and she was the cause.

  ‘I should never have proposed to you in the way that I did, Alice,’ he went on, ‘because it boxed you into a corner, didn’t it? It was a sort of emotional hijack. Instead of posing the question as to whether it was right for a woman to make sacrifices for her husband, I should just have asked you to marry me, if you loved me enough. Then you could have asked for time to think about it – which would have been the right and natural thing to do.’

  Now Alice knelt up and put her arms tightly around his neck. ‘It wouldn’t have mattered how you proposed to me, Sam,’ she murmured, ‘the answer would always have been the same. Because I love you. I have always loved you. And I understood – I really did.’

  He rested his chin on her head for a moment. ‘The thing is,’ he went on slowly, ‘if I boxed you into a corner, then I am well and truly boxed into one myself. Because there is never going to be any other career than the one I’m following…it’s what I’ve worked towards all my life, what all the training is about.’ He paused. ‘And although my parents never put pressure on me, I’ve always felt that it was expected. We’re all here to do the best with what we’ve got, aren’t we, and it just so happens that my brain has been fixed to be able to do what I do. I know I’m driven – I drive myself, all the time – because I’m determined to succeed…’

  To her horror Alice thought he was going to shed a tear – it was obvious that baby Thomas must still be very much on his mind, but she had never seen Sam break down before. She cut in quickly –

  ‘Sam, you are going to be the best surgeon in the whole world,’ she said, ‘and I promise to always be there, always.’

  He held her to him even more closely. ‘But…but we must be honest with each other, Alice, about everything,’ he said, ‘from now on, there must be no more secrets.’ He rested his cheek against hers. ‘Remember how we used to tell each other everything in our letters? Why is it so much easier to write, than to say things to each other?’

  Alice felt another wave of regret that she hadn’t confided in Sam about her visit to the doctor…but her reason had truly been that she didn’t want to worry him. ‘I promise – no more secrets,’ she said softly, ‘and in case you’re wondering, nobody else knows about my depression,’ she added. ‘I have kept it to myself, I have kept it right inside myself. But from now on there will be no more secrets, Sam, not from you. We are going to tell each other everything, aren’t we?’

  For several moments they remained there like two statues locked together, then, measuring his words, Sam said –

  ‘Alice…do you remember that some time ago I mentioned a friend – a good friend – called Toby Dawson who was on the same training course as me…he had a brilliant mind – and that I’d just been to his recent memorial service?’

  ‘Of course I remember,’ Alice said. How could she forget? It had been the first time she had ever seen Sam so distracted – and downcast. Not like him at all. ‘You’d been asked to plant a tree in his memory, hadn’t you?’ she added.

  Sam nodded, releasing her from his arms and going across to gaze out of the window before going on.

  ‘Owing to the fact that we were medical trainees, none of us were conscripted during the war, but some of the students decided to volunteer…I can tell you that huge discussion about the pros and cons went on between us all at the time…and Toby decided that it was his duty to go, so he enlisted in the RAF straightaway.’

  Alice didn’t want to interrupt because obviously this was not going to have a happy ending, and Sam went on –

  ‘With less than two hours’ flying training he was given charge of a Spitfire – imagine that – and unsurprisingly, went on to acquit himself with great honour. Went all through the Battle of Britain, coming back safely each time.’ Sam smiled briefly. ‘When he was home on leave he used to call in to see everyone – we’d always go to the pub and of course we drank a lot of beer as we hung on his every word. He seemed to like getting drunk, and we all joined in with gusto.’

  Sam waited before going on. ‘Then in 1942 he was out alone on a reconnaissance flight, and by some freak of accident his plane was lost over the Channel. His body was washed up several days later.’

  Alice caught her breath. ‘How…how terrible, Sam,’ she said slowly, thinking it was no wonder he had been so down that evening. It was obvious that losing a good friend in that way had hit him hard and would always be deeply etched in his mind. She climbed off the bed and went over to stand next to Sam, putting her arm around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. ‘We’ve got so much to thank all those young men who lost their lives during the war, haven’t we, Sam?’ she said softly. ‘What they did for us. Just think what wonderful things they might be doing with their lives if they were still here…’

  He cut in, almost harshly. ‘Yes – and that’s another of my problems, Alice, because I often feel terrible shame…terrible guilt…that I didn’t volunteer as well. To do my bit, to join up. Ashamed that, instead, I made the decision to put my personal ambitions first, and not to interrupt my training.’ He swallowed. ‘I find it hard to forgive myself that Toby’s gone and I’m still here.’

  Alice pulled away slightly. ‘Do you mean you wish you were dead too, Sam?’ she demanded? ‘Or perhaps horribly wounded so that everyone could see how selfless and brave you were? That is silly, Sam, and you know it! You have given your life to a career, a mercilessly difficult career, which demands someone very special. Someone with very special ability. Paediatric neuro-surgery is hardly for the weak and uncourageous! You will be saving lives, Sam, that’s what it’s all about – and just because you didn’t volunteer to risk life and limb on the battlefield doesn’t make you less brave, less amazing, than Toby and many others like him!’

  Now Alice was shaking with emotion. ‘Be proud of yourself, Sam, be proud of what you’re doing. Because I am proud of you and I will never stop being proud of you!’

  She leaned up and smothered his face with k
isses, and he responded, holding onto her. Then –

  ‘I’m glad I’ve told you that, Alice,’ he said. He hesitated. ‘Although my father knows about Toby – he came with me to the funeral straight after it happened – though not to the memorial service four years later…he doesn’t know anything of the shame that’s haunted me all this time.’

  ‘And I’m glad you’ve told me, confided in me, Sam,’ Alice said. ‘Because we’ve promised to do that from now on, haven’t we…confide in each other?’

  He nodded. ‘So – you must understand, Alice, that another reason for my total dedication to my career is in memory of Toby…as I dug that small tree into the earth I promised him I’d always be thinking of him.’ Sam swallowed, hard. ‘He would have been a marvellous surgeon, there’s no doubt about that…so I am going to try and achieve for Toby as well, I’m doing it for both of us.’ Sam paused. ‘If that makes any sense.’

  With them both feeling as if they had turned a vital corner, they began getting dressed, and before going into the bathroom Sam glanced at Alice briefly. ‘As for you, Alice, I want you to do whatever you want – anything in the world – that gives you contentment… I mean, if you would like to take up your job again rather than being here following my mother’s footprint, well, go on – do it. It’s obvious that times are changing, and many young women feel the need to stretch themselves beyond the sink and laundry basket, and why shouldn’t they?’ He paused, thinking for a second. ‘Didn’t Mr. Pennington say something about opening other branches of their firm here in Bristol, and that he’d like you to be there at some point, if you could?’

  ‘Yes – yes he did,’ Alice said, ‘but…’