Bonjour Alice

by Judi Curtin

  And if Mum saw my red face, she’d know it was something to do with Bruno.

  And if she knew that Bruno was making my face go red, she’d never be able to resist giving me a big, long, embarrassing talk about feelings. She would never let me hear the end of it.

  Dad saved me by shoving a basket of bread into my hands.

  ‘Take that outside,’ he said, and I felt like hugging him for being the kind of person who doesn’t notice stuff like daughters with faces the colour of over-ripe tomatoes.

  We ate our breakfast on the terrace outside.

  ‘Well,’ said Mum, as she sipped the last of her green tea. ‘What are we going to do for our last day in France?’

  ‘Beach,’ said Rosie. ‘Please, please, please can we go to the beach? I want to build the biggest sand-castle ever.’

  Dad had other ideas.

  ‘There’s one museum that we just have to see. It’s not too far, and it’s very, very educational. You girls will love it, I know.’

  I made a face at Alice and she made one back at me. We so did not need to see another museum. I thought I’d die if I had to look at another grey map with lots of stupid pins stuck in it. This was supposed to be a holiday, wasn’t it? Not a big long history lesson. I was fairly sure that Grace and her friend weren’t visiting museums in Lanzarote. They were probably doing totally cool stuff all the time, and as soon as Alice heard about it, she’d be sorry that she’d come on holidays with a loser family like mine.

  I looked at Dad.

  ‘Can we do something else? Please?’ I said.

  Dad shrugged.

  ‘I suppose you two can do whatever you like,’ he said. ‘But I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to the museum. What about you Sheila?’

  Everyone looked at Mum. Suddenly I remembered hearing her talking to her sister Linda on the phone, the day before we came to France.

  ‘I’m really looking forward to the holiday,’ she’d said. ‘But I hope Donal doesn’t insist on dragging us around loads of awful boring museums.’

  I smiled at the thought, but then I remembered that Mum has this stupid idea that parents should back each other up, whenever the kids are listening, so she just said.

  ‘The museum sounds good to me. You can never have enough history, can you?’

  Rosie folded her arms in a pout.

  ‘Beach,’ she said in a sulky voice.

  Mum smiled at her.

  ‘If you’re a good girl, and stop sulking,’ she said. ‘We can go to the beach after the museum. We have two cans of chick peas left, and I can make a nice salad, so we can have a picnic.’

  Alice and I looked at each other again. Alice had been very understanding about Mum’s food during the holidays, but there were limits. The poor girl had eaten more chick peas in the last nine days than she had in the previous thirteen years. Her face told me all I needed to know of her thoughts about a picnic that included chick peas.

  ‘Er, Mum,’ I said quickly. ‘Why don’t you and Dad and Rosie go to the museum? Alice and I can stay here.’

  ‘Stay here and do what?’ asked Dad.

  ‘Em …’ I said.

  ‘Em …’ Alice said.

  ‘Well you’re not staying here doing nothing,’ said Mum. ‘That would be a complete waste of time.’

  ‘Oh, I just remembered,’ said Alice. ‘Megan and I want to meet Bruno one more time.’

  I looked at her in surprise.

  Hadn’t she said she didn’t want to meet Bruno?

  What had happened to change her mind?

  Still, I didn’t really care. I was going to see Bruno again, and that was all that mattered.

  I turned to Mum and Dad.

  ‘Please, please, please, please, please?’ I said.

  Mum and Dad looked at each other, and finally Dad said,

  ‘I suppose there’s no harm in it. What do you think, Sheila?’

  Mum shrugged.

  ‘Well, the girls are thirteen now, so I suppose they’ll be all right. Just promise to stay together. And wherever you go, be back here at six o’clock, at the very latest.’

  ‘Yesss,’ said Alice.

  I didn’t say anything. I was afraid that if Mum and Dad saw how happy we were, they might just change their minds and make us go with them to the museum.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Mum and Dad and Rosie were packed up and ready to go. Alice and I went outside to wave good-bye to them.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you some of that nice chick pea salad?’ said Mum. ‘I’ve made plenty.’

  ‘Sure we’re sure,’ I said. ‘You have it. Alice and I will manage with whatever is left here.’

  ‘OK,’ said Mum. ‘Now remember if you’re going out, take some food with you. I don’t want you buying any rubbish while I’m not here to keep an eye on you. There’s bread and cheese, and there’s also some of those nice red apples.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ I said.

  By now Dad was revving up the car, but Mum wasn’t finished yet.

  ‘Oh, and there’s a bit of last night’s lentil stew in the fridge. That would be nice for you. It doesn’t matter that it’s cold.’

  At the other side of the car I could see Alice pretending to vomit. She was right. Warm lentil stew was bad enough. Cold lentil stew was too gross to even think about.

  Mum kept talking.

  ‘And drink plenty of water. You need it in this hot weather. And––’

  Then Dad saved us.

  ‘Sheila, if we don’t go now there will be no point going at all. I want to see every single thing in the museum.’

  ‘OK. OK,’ said Mum. ‘I just don’t want the girls to go hungry or thirsty.’

  She turned back to me.

  ‘Now be good girls. And we’ll see you back here at six. And don’t forget ……’

  We never got to hear what we weren’t supposed to forget, because Dad forgot that Mum was talking and he drove off in the middle of her sentence. Seconds later they were out of sight.

  ‘Yesss,’ said Alice. ‘Free at last.’

  ‘I still can’t believe they left us here on our own,’ I said. ‘I wonder why Mum suddenly feels we’re so grown up? She usually treats me like I’m a total baby.’

  Alice laughed.

  ‘Stop wondering, and start enjoying it,’ she said. ‘Now, last one in the back garden gets the broken deck-chair.’

  So we raced around to the back of the house to enjoy our day of freedom.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Much later, after Alice and I had played loads of games of cards and Scrabble, I lay on my back and looked up into the trees.

  ‘We’ll have to go soon,’ I said. ‘Bruno will be waiting for us.’

  Alice giggled.

  ‘Bruno who?’ she asked.

  I threw a handful of grass over her face.

  ‘How many Brunos do you know?’ I asked.

  ‘Besides my granny’s dog?’ asked Alice as she threw a bigger handful of grass over my face.

  I sat up and brushed the grass off me.

  ‘Anyway, whatever his name is, we have to go and meet him.’

  Alice patted me on the shoulder like I was a baby.

  ‘Megan, you are so gullible,’ she said. ‘We’re not meeting Bruno.’

  ‘But you said––’

  She interrupted me.

  ‘I’m not totally stupid. I know what I said. But that was just so your mum and dad would get off our backs and go away and leave us alone.’

  She stopped talking and looked at me real closely. I felt uncomfortable, and turned away, but I knew she was still staring at me.

  ‘Hey,’ she said. ‘What’s with you and Bruno? You don’t actually like him do you?’

  I put my head down and pretended to be interested in pulling a few stray pieces of grass from my hair. Alice wasn’t fooled for a second.

  ‘He’s such a total loser, Megan. Please tell me you don’t like him.’

  I stil
l didn’t answer. After all, what could I say? Alice thought Bruno was a loser, and nothing I could say would ever change that. And if she thought I liked a loser, she’d never, ever stop going on about it. Alice isn’t very good at forgetting stuff like that.

  Then I remembered Pascal. Alice had really, really liked him, and when he turned out to be the biggest pain in the history of the world, she wasn’t one bit embarrassed.

  And when we were at summer camp, she sneaked out and got into loads of trouble because she wanted to meet Lee, and he turned out to be a bit of a pain, and she wasn’t embarrassed about that either.

  So why was I embarrassed about liking Bruno who was perfectly nice?

  Suddenly I felt brave.

  ‘Bruno’s OK, actually,’ I said, trying to make it sound like I didn’t really care one way or the other.

  Alice gave a big laugh.

  ‘OK for a total loser, you mean.’

  I didn’t answer, so Alice continued.

  ‘Look at the facts, Megan. What’s there to like about Bruno? He’s got a dog’s name. He wears loser clothes. He looks like a loser. He talks like a loser. So guess what? He’s a loser.’

  She was all wrong. (Except for the bit about the dog’s name, and that really wasn’t his fault.)

  At first I was going to argue with her, but then I changed my mind. I’d suddenly had a bad thought. If a miracle happened, and I actually managed to convince Alice that Bruno was nice, then we’d have to go and meet him.

  And if we went to meet him, what would I say to him?

  Alice would be watching me, and saving up stuff to tease me with.

  It would all be too embarrassing even to think about.

  And all of a sudden I wasn’t brave anymore.

  ‘Yeah, you’re right,’ I said. ‘I was just kidding. Bruno really is a loser.’

  Alice giggled.

  ‘Yeah. A loser in yellow shorts.’

  I felt kind of bad, like I’d betrayed Bruno or something.

  But not bad enough to do anything about it.

  I lay down again. It was nice just lying there, watching the leaves rustling in the warm breeze.

  ‘I feel lazy,’ I said after a while. ‘And a whole afternoon lying here sounds just perfect.’

  ‘A whole afternoon lying here?’ Alice said it like I’d suggested that we jump off a cliff or something.

  ‘But, you said––’

  Alice interrupted me.

  ‘Keep up, Megan. I said we’re not meeting Bruno, but that doesn’t mean we have to stay here. Here is boring. And it’s our last day. Let’s go off and have an adventure.’

  I didn’t much like the sound of that. Alice’s adventures usually ended up as disasters.

  ‘An adventure?’ I repeated.

  ‘Yes. An adventure,’ said Alice firmly. ‘An adventure is just what we need to finish off this holiday.’

  ‘Like what kind of adventure?’

  Alice sighed. ‘You can be such a scaredy cat sometimes, Megan.’

  I hate it when Alice calls me a scaredy cat. (It doesn’t make any difference that she’s usually right.)

  I folded my arms and didn’t say anything.

  ‘Sorry, Meg,’ said Alice, when she saw my face. ‘I promised not to call you that any more didn’t I?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Only about a thousand times,’ I said.

  Alice smiled.

  ‘Sorry. I won’t do it anymore. I promise. Anyway, we’re not really going on an adventure. I was only winding you up. Why don’t we just take our bikes out and go for a cycle? It’ll be fun to see a bit more of this place before we leave. And we needn’t go far.’

  I smiled too. A cycle around the countryside didn’t sound too scary. Even my mum wouldn’t have a problem with that.

  ‘That’s settled, so,’ said Alice jumping up. ‘Now let’s get ready.’

  I followed her into the house.

  ‘Do you fancy bringing some lentil stew?’ I asked, grinning.

  Alice pretended she had to think about it.

  ‘Em …… no. Not today thanks. Actually, not ever, thanks. I don’t suppose your Mum has hidden a double-cheese pizza in the freezer?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘No chance. Will we bring those apples? Or maybe some bread and cheese?’

  ‘No,’ said Alice. ‘I’m not even hungry. Are you?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘Well then, no point in bringing food, is there? Anyway, I have money, so if we get hungry later we can buy something to eat,’ said Alice.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ I said. ‘Now let’s get going, before Mum and Dad get back.’

  As we wheeled our bikes down the driveway of the house, I suddenly stopped.

  ‘Hang on a sec,’ I said. ‘I’ve forgotten my jumper.’

  Alice laughed.

  ‘It’s roasting,’ she said. ‘What do you want a jumper for?’

  I shrugged.

  ‘It might get cold later,’ I said, trying hard not to sound like my mother.

  Alice kept walking.

  ‘Later is ages away,’ she said. ‘And later we’ll be back here, so you don’t need to bring your jumper with you, do you?’

  Mum always insists that I bring a jumper with me whenever I go out, even on baking hot days, and it’s a hard habit to break. But it wasn’t worth arguing about.

  So we got on our bikes, and cycled off.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  We cycled towards the village. I didn’t want to go past the bakery, in case we’d bump into Bruno, but there didn’t seem to be any other way to go. Luckily only Serge, Bruno’s little brother, was standing outside in the dusty street. Alice waved at him, and he stuck his tongue out at us in reply.

  Alice braked hard.

  ‘He’s a cheeky thing,’ she said. ‘Do you think we should stop and threaten him?’

  I so didn’t want to stop right there outside the bakery. If Bruno saw us, he’d wonder why we weren’t calling for him.

  How could I explain that even thinking about him made me feel embarrassed?

  How could I explain that Alice thought he was a loser, and that I was too much of a coward to try to change her mind?

  It was much easier to keep on cycling, and to pretend that Bruno didn’t even exist.

  ‘Serge is just a spoiled brat,’ I said. ‘Forget about him, and let’s keep going. We’re meant to be on an adventure, aren’t we?’

  Alice laughed and began to pedal faster. I followed her as quickly as I could.

  When we got to the end of the village, we stopped at a crossroads. We’d never been this far on our own before.

  ‘Where now?’ I asked.

  Alice shrugged.

  ‘Dunno. Which way did your parents go?’

  I looked at the signposts, and then pointed to the left.

  ‘That way, I think.’

  Alice grinned.

  ‘OK, that settles it. We’re not taking that road. We don’t want to accidentally end up at your dad’s totally cool museum, do we?’

  I smiled.

  ‘But we could all sit down together and talk about the environment, and then we could share that lovely chick pea salad.’

  Alice made a face.

  ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ she said. ‘Now which of these other roads will we choose?’

  Now I shrugged.

  ‘They all look much the same to me. I’ve never heard of any of these places. How about that one?’ I said, pointing to the smallest, quietest road.

  ‘Sounds fine to me,’ said Alice, climbing on to her bike.

  ‘Wait,’ I said. ‘How will we find our way back? We haven’t got a map or anything.’

  Alice giggled.

  ‘Your dad has lots of maps, and how many times has he got lost this holiday?’

  I giggled too.

  ‘Lots of times?’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Alice. ‘So when we’re coming back, we’ll just follow
the signposts for our village, and we’ll be OK.’

  ‘You’re sure?’

  ‘Sure, I’m sure! Now let’s go. We’ve only got a few hours of freedom left.’

  * * *

  We cycled along for ages. It was kind of fun, not knowing exactly where we were going, or what we were going to do when we got there. I felt happy and free and I was really glad that Alice had persuaded me to come. If it had been up to me, we’d have stayed in the garden for the whole day, and how boring would that have been?

  As we cycled, we chatted about all kinds of stuff – about the boat-trip home, about secondary school, and about Melissa of course. Alice told me a really funny story about a girl who’d been in her class in Dublin, and I had to stop cycling for a while, I was laughing so much.

  Soon we came to a tiny little village. There was a little old lady sitting outside the only shop, knitting something huge out of disgusting mustard-coloured wool.

  ‘There’s your mother’s long-lost sister,’ said Alice, making me laugh again.

  ‘Will we stop and get something to eat?’ I suggested, as soon as I was able to talk. ‘Maybe that lady would make us a sandwich or something.’

  Alice shook her head.

  ‘Nah. I’m not even hungry yet. And that lady doesn’t look like she’s going anywhere any time soon. Let’s go on for another bit, and we can come back here later and buy stuff. OK?’

  I nodded. I was having so much fun that nothing, not even food, seemed to matter too much.

  After another few kilometres or so, we came to a forest. Alice braked and skidded to a halt. I braked a second too late, and skidded into her. I picked up my bike, and rubbed my arm where it had bumped off Alice’s handlebars.

  ‘Watch it,’ I said. ‘How about you warn me when you’re going to stop?’

  ‘Sorry, Meg,’ said Alice. ‘I didn’t have time to warn you. It’s just that this forest is so cool. It’s just like the enchanted forest in a story book I had when I was small. It was my favourite book for ages.’

  I forgot about the pain in my arm. Alice was right. The forest did look kind of enchanted. It was quiet and dark and mysterious.

  ‘Let’s go inside and explore,’ said Alice. ‘Maybe we’ll find Sleeping Beauty, or Snow White or someone.’