Alice

by Laura Wade

  Like with Tweedledum and Tweedledee. One day you’ll be like them, you’ll be able to look back and think about Joe happily, remembering happy things.

  Because it’s OK to be happy, eventually. And it’s OK to laugh, cause Joe would want that, wouldn’t he? You mustn’t hold yourself back because you think you ought to be in constant pain and if you’re not you’re being disloyal. And it’s OK to eat because you’re still –

  You mustn’t be embarrassed that you’re still alive, you know.

  ALICE: And what, if I remember all this stuff I’m going to be OK about Joe being dead, am I?

  WHITE RABBIT: Oh no. No, that’ll take years. We’re just working on getting you out of the house.

  Remember what the caterpillar said – one day at a time.

  ALICE: That’s just a stupid cliché.

  WHITE RABBIT: It’s a cliché because it’s true.

  Oh, I’ve got something to give back.

  He starts to go through his pockets.

  ALICE: What is it?

  WHITE RABBIT: No, that’s a receipt for some carrots –

  Here we are. One plectrum. Compliments of the Wonderland State Border Control.

  He hands the plectrum back to ALICE. She looks at it in her hand.

  He’s always with you.

  ALICE puts the plectrum back in her pocket.

  ALICE: I feel like a dick.

  WHITE RABBIT: Don’t feel like a dick. Why d’you feel like a dick?

  ALICE: Cause I should have been able to work it out by myself.

  WHITE RABBIT: Don’t underestimate your brain’s ability to fool you, throw you a curve ball. You know, you’re going through something massive, something that’d be massively difficult for anyone, and you’re only 12.

  ALICE: Yeah, let’s not get back onto me being 12 again, it –

  Wait – my brain? What d’you mean, my brain?

  WHITE RABBIT: Your brain made Wonderland. For you to hide in for a bit.

  ALICE: I made this?

  WHITE RABBIT: Which makes you sort of brilliant. Very brilliant, actually.

  The WHITE RABBIT goes over to a large wooden box, the same as the one he climbed into at the start.

  ALICE: Are you going?

  WHITE RABBIT: Your mum and dad are going to need you.

  The WHITE RABBIT starts to unpack the box, revealing the armchair from ALICE’s living room.

  ALICE: My mum hates me.

  WHITE RABBIT: Not true.

  ALICE: She’d rather have the Knave of Hearts – I mean no – I mean she’d rather have Joe – agh, you’ve confused me, I can’t separate –

  WHITE RABBIT: Grown ups aren’t always logical either.

  ALICE: Everyone’s mental.

  WHITE RABBIT: Some of the time.

  ALICE: Obvious again.

  WHITE RABBIT: It’s both. It’s completely obvious and utterly bewildering. So you do what you can, when you can, and everyone muddles through and just occasionally something’s so beautiful it takes your breath away.

  ALICE’S DAD’s head appears out of the seat of the armchair.

  DAD: Hello love.

  (Calling.) Suzanne – Suze, she’s here, I’ve found her.

  He starts to climb out of the armchair. The WHITE RABBIT backs off, gradually leaves.

  Where’ve you been love, we’ve been looking everywhere.

  ALICE: I’ve been here.

  DAD: Looked everywhere for you.

  MUM’s head appears through the armchair.

  MUM: You’re here!

  What the bloody hell are you doing, we’ve been –

  DAD: Suze –

  MUM: Sorry. Sorry. Graham can you –

  DAD helps MUM to climb through the armchair. Both of them stand looking at ALICE.

  We were really worried. Thought you’d gone.

  DAD: But you’ve not, so that’s good, so –

  MUM: The gannets have all gone now, it’s just us.

  DAD: We should call Helen, tell her to stop looking.

  MUM: Auntie Helen’s gone out kerbcrawling, looking for you.

  MUM looks at ALICE. ALICE looks at the floor.

  MUM looks at DAD. He nods.

  Your, um. Your dad’s pointed out to me that I might not have seemed very nice to you the past few days and I wanted to say I’m –

  ALICE: I’m sorry Joe’s gone.

  MUM: Oh love, of course you are. I know you are. You didn’t think I thought you weren’t, did you?

  ALICE: I don’t know.

  MUM: Oh petal, come here.

  ALICE goes towards her MUM. They falter at about a metre from each other.

  MUM touches ALICE’s hair.

  I’m sorry, love. Sorry I’m so –

  I’m not cross with you, petal.

  I’m still your mummy.

  DAD: We could have a cup of tea if you like. If you’re not completely sick of tea today.

  ALICE: What d’you mean?

  DAD: All that tea we had to drink at the funeral.

  ALICE: I’d like a cup of tea.

  DAD: Oh but we’re out of milk.

  MUM: Bloody Helen –

  DAD: Love –

  MUM: Well she makes it so milky!

  DAD: I’ll go to Somerfield.

  ALICE: I’ll get it.

  DAD: Pardon?

  ALICE: I’ll go to the shop and get it.

  DAD: OK?

  ALICE: Be good for me to get out the house, maybe.

  ALICE looks at her MUM, who nods bravely.

  Get some fresh air.

  MUM: Yes, OK.

  DAD reaches in his pocket and pulls out a fiver. ALICE takes it.

  ALICE: Thanks. See you in a minute.

  ALICE goes. MUM and DAD look at each other. MUM tries not to say something, but after a moment blurts it out:

  MUM: (Calling after her.) Be careful on the road!

  Alice?

  They spring into action.

  DAD: Watch her out the window...

  MUM: Just peek round the curtain so she doesn’t see you. What’s she doing?

  DAD: Hang on a sec, she’s not there yet. No, she’s coming out the front door –

  MUM: Yeah?

  DAD: She’s walking down to the gate.

  She’s standing at the gate.

  MUM: Is she alright?

  DAD: Looks like she’s not sure about it –

  MUM: Oh heck.

  DAD: Hesitating...

  MUM goes to the other window.

  Don’t let her see you, just peek round the curtain.

  MUM: She’s going – is she going?

  DAD: That’s it Alice. That’s my girl.

  MUM and DAD fade away as ALICE comes through the garden gate and onto the pavement.

  She breathes deeply. She enjoys the feeling. She starts to walk down the road.

  A crowd of WONDERLANDERS appears behind her, including the WONDERBAND. They play music as they follow her. A mash-up of Joe’s song with Welcome To Wonderland and the Lobster Quadrille.

  ALICE doesn’t dance, but the WONDERLANDERS do.

  ALICE smiles, knowing they’re behind her.

  THE END.