by Judi Curtin
Then I had a brainwave. I shut the bedroom door, grabbed Rosie and pulled her towards my wardrobe. ‘Look, Rosie, sweeties. Lots of nice sweeties for Rosie,’ I said, as I rummaged frantically for the secret bag of marshmallows I’d hidden there the week before.
Rosie loves marshmallows, so she was completely distracted for the few seconds it took Alice to roll under the bed. When Rosie’s mouth was full, she turned around again. Her mouth opened in surprise, and two marshmallows popped out onto the floor.
‘Alith? Alith gone?’ she lisped.
I bent down and put my face near to hers, like I’d seen Mum do when she had something important to say.
‘Rosie, No Alice. No Alice here. Just me and you. OK?’
She looked a bit puzzled, but happily accepted another marshmallow, and toddled off to look for Mum. I closed the door behind her, and collapsed on to the bed. Then Alice rolled out from underneath and grinned up at me.
At lunch-time, I had another moment of panic when out of the blue Rosie said, nice and clearly: ‘Alith gone.’
Mum looked at her, surprised. ‘Aaah. Even Rosie misses Alice. Isn’t that so sweet? Yes dear, Alice has gone. But I’m sure we’ll see her in a few weeks, won’t we?’
I was really, really glad that Rosie was only three, and far too young to say something awful like, ‘But she was in Megan’s room this morning.’
As we tidied up the lunch things, I hid a few slices of bread in the pocket of my hoodie. Not very exciting food, I had to admit, but it was the best I could do under the circumstances. I could hardly bring Alice bowls of soup, or dishes of pasta, could I?
Just as I was leaving the kitchen, Mum turned to me and said, ‘I’ve an idea, Megan. Why don’t I leave Rosie with Kathleen up the road for a while, and you and I can have a nice girlie afternoon? Maybe we could go to town. We could go for hot chocolates, and than shop for some new school shoes for you. Wouldn’t that be nice?’
Normally, I’d have loved that. But I could hardly skip off to town leaving Alice on her own in my room, could I? It was time for one of my special, reserve ideas. I’d joined the local tennis club a few months earlier, and whenever Mum and Dad couldn’t think of anything else to complain about, they’d go on about what a waste of money it had been, since I hardly ever played. It wasn’t my fault though. All the other girls who hung out there had been having private coaching since they were about six months old. They were probably playing tennis while they were still in nappies. Once, before I knew any better, Mum persuaded me to enter a competition. I can remember her encouraging smile. ‘It’ll be an experience, Megan, if nothing else.’
She was right. It was an experience. It was the most embarrassing, humiliating experience of my entire life. My opponent, Ciara, had travelled all the way from Cork for the game. Her mother and father had come with her to encourage her. (My parents hadn’t thought to travel the half a mile from our house to support me. Which was just as well - I didn’t need two more witnesses to my total humiliation.) Ciara had two tennis racquets, like someone who was planning to play in Wimbledon. She was dressed in designer gear from her cute white headband, down to her mega-expensive runners. And she never called when a ball went out – she just did this cool flicking thing with her fingers. After a while, when she realised just how bad I was, she started to apologise every time she sent the ball whizzing past my ear. As if apologising made it better. I only scored two points in the entire match, and that was when she double-faulted. The first time that happened, she threw her racquet on the ground in temper. If my parents saw me do that, they’d have dragged me off the court and grounded me for about six months. Ciara’s mother just cooed softly to her: ‘Now Ciara, don’t forget about your anger management. Breathe deeply and let the tension flow away.’ Sad thing was, Ciara didn’t even look embarrassed.
I was put into the competition for first-time losers, but I pretended to be sick, and went home. Mum and Dad met me in the hallway. ‘Well, are you our little champion?’ asked Dad.
‘Do we need to book tickets for Wimbledon?’ asked Mum.
I shook my head, and smiled as brightly as I could. ‘Oh, it was a good match, but she just about got the better of me in the end.’
I think they knew I was lying, because they didn’t ask me any more.
Anyway, after that, who could blame me for being less than enthusiastic about tennis?
Still, Mum was pleased, that afternoon, when I said, ‘Thanks, Mum. I’d love to spend the afternoon with you, but I was thinking of going over to the tennis club for a while. Some of the girls in my class said they might be there.’
I felt a bit mean when I saw how happy that statement made her. She gave me a big smile.
‘That’s great, Megan. I’m glad you’re getting on with the other girls in your class. Would you like me to drop you over to the club?’
I smiled back. ‘No, Mum. It’s fine thanks. The walk will warm me up for the game.’
I ran to my room to change into my tracksuit and runners, and to tell Alice to get ready. A few minutes later, she climbed out the window, and I locked it behind her. Then I got my racquet from the hall cupboard, and called out, ‘Bye, Mum. I’ll be back in time for tea.’
She came to the door to see me off. ‘Bye, darling. Have a good time.’
Luckily I’d told Alice to go out through the gate at the bottom of our back garden. I skipped down the road, and met her at the pre-arranged spot, at the end of the lane.
She stretched her arms high in the air. ‘Mmmmm. It’s so nice to be out. I’m beginning to feel like a prisoner. Do you think I’ll be able to get a loan of a racquet at the club?’
I laughed.
‘We are so not going to the tennis club!’
‘Why?’
‘Too many Melissas there.’ (Melissa was our code word for any girl we didn’t like.)
Alice looked mystified. ‘Where then? Where are we going?’
I smiled.
‘Into town.’
Alice was delighted. ‘Hey. That’s a great idea.’
I was pleased with her reaction. So pleased that I nearly forgot how much trouble I’d be in if Mum discovered I was in town without her knowing. She always said town was full of ‘undesirables.’ Still, sneaking Alice around was serious enough. If I was caught I was going to be in trouble anyway, and grounded for about a hundred years. I might as well have some fun and make it worth my while.
We ran to the bus stop, and arrived just as a bus pulled up. I felt very grown up indeed, as I bought two tickets, and we set off on our journey.
Chapter thirteen
We had a great afternoon in town. Somehow, everything seems much more fun when you know you’re breaking every rule your parents could ever think of. (Plus lots more they haven’t got around to thinking of yet.)
First stop was to get Alice a burger and chips. I wasn’t hungry of course, since I’d just had lunch, but Alice acted as if she hadn’t seen food for days. She stuffed her face, and then very rudely spoke through a mouthful of chips.
‘Mmmm. This is so totally yum. I’d forgotten how good warm food could taste.’
I laughed. ‘Well, don’t get too used to it, we mightn’t be able to get out again in a hurry.’
I had the biggest cup of Coke available. (Mum and Dad never allowed me to have Coke, so it tasted extra-nice.)
When Al had finished eating, and I had drained my giant Coke, we wandered out onto the street. I had an idea.
‘Let’s go into the supermarket. Maybe we can find something for you to eat later.’ (I was feeling a bit guilty, because I knew we were having shepherd’s pie for dinner, and I couldn’t think of a way to smuggle some of that in to Alice.)
In the supermarket, we quickly found the shelf where all the instant-type foods were. I’d never been there before. My mum has a big thing about wholefoods, and fresh fruit and vegetables and organic stuff. Once I heard her saying to Dad that feeding ready-meals to children should be recognised as a form of chi
ld cruelty. I picked up a pot of instant noodles, and put on my mum’s voice. ‘Eugh! Look at this. Full of e-numbers, and hydrogenated fats. Is this food? Or is it a chemistry experiment? How are they allowed to get away with this?’
Alice took the pot from me and shook it. She too imitated my mum’s voice. (So well that I felt a bit guilty.) ‘I think it’s just died. And look at this carton. How long will it take for this to decompose?’
I was glum for a moment. ‘About as long as it will take my parents to forgive me, if they find out I’m in town this afternoon.’
Alice shook my arm gently. ‘Don’t worry, Meg, they’ll never know. And anyway, we’ve discussed this. When my parents find me on Friday, I’m taking all the blame. I’ll say everything was my fault. It was all my idea.’
I wasn’t sure. ‘Yes, I know you said that, but I still don’t think it’s fair.’
Alice spoke firmly. ‘Of course it’s fair. Remember, I’m the child from the broken home, not you. They’ll have to make allowances for my bad behaviour. I’m just acting out my trauma.’
We selected six pots of noodly things that could be heated by pouring boiling water over them, and I tried not to worry too much about how exactly I was going to get boiling water from the kitchen into my bedroom.
After that we did a tour of Cruise’s Street. In every shop that sold nail varnish, we each painted one fingernail. It took us about half an hour to get all of them done. We were slowed down quite a bit by the fact that security guards chased us out of three shops. You’d think we were ‘undesirables.’
Of course, even I knew there was nothing terribly cheeky or bad about trying on nail varnish in shops, but without Alice, I wouldn’t have dared. That was the great thing about Alice. When I was with her, I became a better person. I was braver. And funnier. And happier. Life was so much more fun when she was around.
We looked at CDs for a while, then jewellery and clothes. The afternoon went much too quickly. We got the bus home at half four, because I knew it would soon be dark. I also knew that if I wasn’t home by dark, Mum would go to the tennis club to look for me. And if I wasn’t there, she would go into totally, absolutely, crazy panic-mode. She wouldn’t stop to think anything sensible, she’d just presume that I’d been kidnapped or murdered or something.
Once, in a shop, Rosie slipped out of sight for a moment and Mum nearly lost her reason. She screeched on the top of her voice. ‘Rosie! Rosie! Oh my baby, what’s happened to you?’ Two shop assistants came running, thinking someone was dead. Then Rosie appeared from behind a rack of dresses. Mum picked her up and smothered her with big, wet, slobbery kisses. ‘Oh, baby, baby. Where were you?’ I thought I’d die of embarrassment, and even Rosie who should have been too young for that looked a little bit uneasy. Then, as if it wasn’t quite bad enough, Melissa, with her uncanny knack for being around during my most embarrassing moments, appeared with one of her meanest buddies. They both laughed out loud, and then Melissa whispered to her friend. The only words I could hear were ‘…mad mother…’ I felt like shouting at her. ‘I know she’s mad. But it’s not my fault. Why blame me? Do you think I picked her out of a catalogue?’ But of course I didn’t. I just put my head in the air and pretended not to care. (Even though of course I did. Very much.)
* * *
When we got home, Alice took the bag with the things we’d bought, and sneaked around the back of the house to wait for me to open my bedroom window. I let myself in the back door, and ruffled my hair a bit to make it look like I’d been running around the tennis court. Mum was in the kitchen as usual. She seemed to live there – like some kind of enchanted princess, condemned to a life of endless drudgery. She was straining some potatoes.
‘Oh, Megan, you’re back. It will be dark soon, and I was just starting to wonder about you. Did you have a nice time?’
I nodded. ‘Yes, it was fine. I might go again tomorrow.’
Mum looked up this time, and smiled at me. ‘Well, that is good news. Now will you please mash these potatoes for me?’
I thought of poor Alice standing in the garden in the cold, waiting for me to let her in my bedroom window. ‘OK, Mum, but I’ll just run out and put my racquet in the hall cupboard.’
Mum took the racquet from me before I could protest. ‘It’s OK, I must go check on Rosie anyway. I’ll put your racquet away for you. And when you’re finished the potatoes, will you empty the dishwasher, and set the table please? Dad will be home soon.’
I didn’t want to arouse her suspicions by arguing. It must have been twenty minutes before I got to my room. I opened the window, and gave the signal whistle. There was no reply. I whistled again. All I could hear in reply was the rustling of the trees at the end of the garden. Then I whispered as loudly as I dared. ‘Al, Al. Where are you?’
Still nothing. This was awful. Where could she have gone to?
I climbed out of the window, and ran to the bushes where Alice was supposed to wait for my whistle. She wasn’t there. I suddenly began to feel a sense of panic. Where could she be? I ran around the garden, whispering her name as loudly as I dared. At last I found her sitting in Rosie’s little old playhouse, right at the end of the garden. She was in a bit of a sulk, but I was so glad to see her, I didn’t mind.
She spoke crossly. ‘Where were you all this time? I’m frozen.’
‘Sorry. Mum gave me loads of jobs. I couldn’t get out of the kitchen.’
‘You could have said you needed to go to the toilet, couldn’t you?’
Suddenly I felt very stupid. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Had I no imagination? ‘Sorry, Al. I’ll say that the next time.’
She brightened suddenly. ‘It’s OK. Now let’s go in, while I can still move my fingers and toes.’
Luckily, I was first to climb in the bedroom window. I was sitting on the window-sill ready to jump down, when I realised that Mum was on her hands and knees, looking under my bed. I had just time to be grateful that we’d hidden Alice’s sleeping bag and clothes in the back of my wardrobe, when Mum looked up in surprise.
‘Megan! What on earth are you doing there? Were you out in the garden?’
I nodded. ‘Er, yes.’
‘But it’s dark outside. What took you out there at this time of the evening? And why on earth are you climbing in through the window?’
I thought as quickly as my panicked brain would allow. Alice was much better at instant lies than me, but I could hardly shout out to her for ideas, could I? She was only a metre away, but I was very much on my own. I did my best.
‘Em …I …you see…I ….. well, actually I…. what happened was…..’ Even in my panic I knew I was being totally pathetic.
For once in her life Mum didn’t want a big long discussion. She stood up. ‘Well, whatever. I must finish off the dinner before Dad gets here. Just get down and shut the window, and don’t be so silly again.’
I jumped down and closed the window, smiling out into the darkness, just in case Alice was watching. Suddenly I was a bit worried. What had Mum been doing? Did she suddenly suspect something strange? She didn’t normally look under my bed. I had to ask. ‘Er, Mum, why were you looking under my bed?’
She sighed. ‘I think Rosie’s hidden the television remote control again. Every time I ask for it, she just laughs. She’s being a right little monkey. And your dad will go crazy if it’s not there when he wants to watch TV tonight.’
I gave a small sigh of relief. ‘Oh, is that all? I’ll help you look for it later, will I?’
Mum smiled. ‘Thanks, love.’
Then she went out and closed the door, and when I was sure she wasn’t coming back, I opened the window once more and let Alice in. She sat down on my bed and she didn’t look terribly happy.
It was turning into a very long day.
Chapter fourteen
Dinner that evening seemed to take forever. Mum told Dad about me spending the day in the tennis club, and the two of them went on and on about it, like I’d just been awarded the N
obel Prize or something. They kept saying totally stupid things like:
‘Isn’t it lovely to see Megan getting some independence?’
And:
‘Physical activity is so important. And tennis is such a lovely game.’
And:
‘It’s such a sociable sport. If you play tennis you’ll never be without a friend.’
I was sure that if I didn’t get back to my bedroom quick, I’d be without Alice as a friend, she’d be so cross and fed-up. In the end, Rosie rescued me by throwing up all over the dinner table. It was totally gross, but at least it distracted Mum and Dad for a while, so I could concentrate on thinking of a way to get boiling water in to my bedroom for Alice’s noodles.
Much, much later, when I got back to my room, I still hadn’t any good ideas.
‘It’s not my fault, Al!’ I protested. ‘Mum never seems to leave the kitchen. She always says she’s chained to the kitchen sink, and I’m beginning to think she might be right.’
Alice wasn’t sympathetic. ‘Well, we’d better think of something. I’m starving.’
She picked up a pot of noodles and shook them. They made a nice rattly kind of sound. I wondered if Miss O’Herlihy would let me play them in the school band.
Alice sighed. ‘This is torture. I could die of hunger here, in this very room.’
Things were getting desperate. I’d been best friends with Alice for nearly eight years, and I knew all there was to know about her. And one of the things I knew very well was that when Alice was tired or hungry, she wasn’t much fun to be with.
‘I know,’ I said brightly. ‘Mum has the hot water on for Rosie’s bath. Maybe if I fill your pot from the hot tap in the bathroom, it would work.’
