by David Smith
Lewis Carroll – Through the Looking-Glass
Eddie smiled and nodded without answering directly and then took her by the arm. Alice issued final instructions to Carrie to tidy up the mess and asked Penny very apologetically if she could give her a hand.
‘Of course, Alice, we’ll be finished in no time. See you later, alligator.’
‘In a while, crocodile,’ sniggered Carrie, who had still not left to get ready herself.
*
Eddie led Alice hurriedly out of the front entrance, looking behind him as he closed the door, mouthing to the two girls to get a move on. They climbed the short flight of stone steps that led from their basement flat up to street level. At the top of the steps he swung open the wrought iron gate, holding it until Alice had passed through and then releasing it again on its squeaking hinges. She walked toward the town a little and waited for him by the pillar box on the pavement. Locking the catch on the gate, he walked forward to stand beside her, pausing for a while, his arm hooked in hers, breathing in the night air.
‘So where would you actually like to go?’ he asked, somewhat vaguely, staring up at the evening stars as if he had not quite made up his mind where to take her yet. The air was slightly chilled after the warm autumn day, so that their breath escaped into the darkness in quietly swirling coils of moisture. Alice was shivering slightly, either from excitement or from the change of temperature; the goose bumps raised on the skin of her forearm. The scent of late jasmine from the window boxes on Lady Mary’s windowsills above them was slightly intoxicating in the night air.
‘I’ll go wherever you are planning to take me, handsome sir,’ she replied, enjoying the game but also getting slightly frustrated with his obvious tactics to confuse her. She suspected she knew exactly where he was taking her. There was a restaurant at the bottom of the Parade that she had noticed he had ringed in the phone book. It had a growing reputation, intimate with exquisite food prepared by the best chef in town but with a faintly exotic-sounding menu. She had walked past it many times wishing they could go there once, because it was certainly pricey. The natural style of décor was one she especially liked; pastel shades, abstract daubs, gilt mirrors and sea-grass flooring.
‘Well then, if it’s really going to be up to me, then it has to be ‘second star to the right, and straight on ’til morning,’ he said, laughing.
‘Come on stop teasing me now, Eddie, where are we going? Surely you can tell me now,’ she demanded. ‘And by the way, I hope you’re not going to make me walk too far in these shoes.’
Eddie pulled a rather large brass alarm clock theatrically out of his pocket and said in an equally exaggerated voice, ‘Ah, we’re late, never smile at a crocodile.’
Before she could respond he put one arm behind her back, the other around her thighs and lifted her abruptly into his arms, marching quickly up the steps to the door of No. 5 and rapping loudly on the doorknocker. The door swung open at once, seemingly of its own accord and he carried her inside, putting her down gently in the half-lit hallway. There was apparently no one else around.
In 1932, the original Alice in Wonderland came face to face with the original Peter Pan when 80 year old Alice Liddell Hargreaves and Peter Llewellyn Davies, then in this thirties, met at the opening of a Lewis Carroll exhibition at a bookshop in London.
Based on Wikipedia, Peter and Alice
Alice was now very confused. This was not at all what she was expecting. The hall was strangely quiet, only disturbed by the patient ticking of a long case clock, but she was suddenly aware of a white fluffy shape pushing to get past her in the doorway. The white shape (actually a rabbit called Carrie) deposited a little glass box under the ornate Empire console table and ran off into the room at the end of the corridor. Alice, intrigued, stooped to pick the box up and opened it to find a small cake, on which the words EAT ME had been beautifully marked out in currants.
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ she said, playing along now and smiling broadly, realising that she was clearly the object of some elaborate practical joke. In fact, a second ago, she thought she had heard giggling, followed by a loud ‘Sshh’. She followed Eddie obediently down the hall, across the richly patterned carpets, toward the double doors of the main formal drawing room. Her anticipation was building at every step. As soon as he opened the doors, there was a loud cheer, a round of applause and the sound of party poppers and kids’ trumpets being blown.
‘Surprise!’ they all shouted.
Alice found herself immediately moved to laughter in response to the cacophony of sound from her friends. Virtually everyone she knew was gathered in the room and as far as she could tell they had all dressed up in costumes of one sort or another. She looked round at Eddie, who had now ditched his tweed jacket and donned a green tunic and peaked green hat, with an extravagant feather stuck into it. ‘Peter Pan,’ she said. ‘I should have guessed. And I suppose I’m Alice,’ she added, looking down again at the dress.
The exquisitely furnished room was adorned with paper lanterns and festoons of party bunting. Scented candles burned in little silver dishes and there was a CD of a very skilled classical guitarist playing on the music system. At the far side of the drawing room were two doors that each opened out onto the balcony and gardens beyond, overhanging with honeysuckle and jasmine. Over the right hand door hung a sparkling sign saying Neverland, while over the left hung a flowery sign saying Wonderland.
At the table in the bay of the Wonderland door, there was a rather grand looking man with a very large hat, which he removed with a low bow as Alice approached, revealing a bald pate and face reddened with rouge. The table was set for tea, with scones and sandwiches and all sorts of little cakes, including a tray of rather singed looking jam tarts.
‘No room! No room!’ they cried out when they saw Alice coming. ‘There’s PLENTY of room!’ said Alice indignantly.
Lewis Carroll – Through the Looking-Glass
‘Gosh, you all look fantastic! I can’t believe how much work you’ve put into this,’ said Alice, clapping her hands in amazement.
‘Have you guessed the riddle yet?’ asked the man with the very large hat, a price tag saying 10/6d sticking out of its brim.
‘No, you idiot, what riddle are you talking about?’ replied Alice.
‘Why is a raven like a writing desk?’
‘Ah, that’s easy,’ Alice replied. ‘I know this one: because he can’t crow like a speaking clock!’
‘Bravo, well said,’ said the Hatter. ‘I think we have another joker here, don’t we Miss Dore-abella mouse?’ He turned to Penny, who was wearing a fake fur stole and animal ears and had sneaked in through the back door to sit beside him at the tea table.
Penny seemed rather breathless, having just rushed up through the garden from the flat below, but smiled and said, ‘Happy Birthday, Alice, I hope you enjoy your surprise party as much as we have enjoyed planning it.’
At the other end of the room, underneath the sparkling sign that said Neverland stood a rather smart and fearsome pirate with a silver foil hook and a wig of rolling grey hair (she recognised him at once as Inspector Hunter by his steely blue eyes). He bowed deeply to her, doffing his tricorn hat as he did so. Next to him was seated a man dressed as the surly captain’s mate, Mr Smee. He had a goatee beard, shorn blonde hair and a rather fetching scar painted across his cheek. He was balancing a rather tall fairy with incredibly long flaxen hair on his knee; Izzie. Izzie, or more correctly Tinkerbell, was stroking Mr Smee’s hair in a very familiar way. Not at all fairy-like, thought Alice
‘And just what do you think you are planning to do with Mr Smee, Tinkerbell? Can I remind you there’s a rather sensitive young lady in the room?’ asked Alice, pointing at Carrie. Izzie smiled; she was now stroking Penn’s beard and landed a huge kiss on his cheek, screwing up her nose.
‘Well, Peter appears to have deserted me for the evening for you, pretty lady, so I’ve got to make do with the next best thing,’ she replied.
‘Hello Alice, and a very happy birthday from both of us,’ said Penn as he kissed Alice’s cheek. There was a loud cough behind them.
‘Ah, the Darlings have arrived,’ announced Captain Hook. Julia and Delia, dressed as Wendy and Nana, entered the room and gave Alice a big hug. Julia kissed them on both cheeks.
‘Alice, come with us into the garden,’ said Julia, her request echoed by woofs from Delia in her Nana costume. ‘There’s someone else I want you to meet.’
*
They passed through the French windows onto the balcony, which was festooned with garlands of flowers. In the planting on the terrace there were lights of every colour and candles in little saucers leading off into the undergrowth. Pink flamingos had been planted in the lawn in the form of a croquet game. A model pirate ship was becalmed on the goldfish pond and strung through the large fig tree were little fairy lights and playing card ornaments. Julia and Delia led Alice along the winding path made by the candles across the lawn to the far end of the garden, where there was a small gazebo, filled with cushions and lit by Arabian-style pierced lanterns. There was a big sign hung above the entrance – The Blue Caterpillar’s Hookah Palace.
In the corner of the gazebo, sitting on a cushion shaped like a mushroom, was a very blue-looking caterpillar, smoking the advertised hookah. He puffed three times and then took the pipe out of his mouth and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.
‘So, who are you, little girl?’
‘Alice,’ she said, flirting just a little bit with her hands and eyelashes.
‘Well come and sit beside me, little Alice,’ said the caterpillar, smoothing off the cushion for her to sit on. ‘May I offer you a drink?’ he asked, pouring her a huge glass of champagne. She obeyed and sat down beside him, turning back to look from the garden to the house that was all lit up.
She sighed and announced meaningfully, ‘If only you weren’t so blue, my sweetheart Hugh.’ They sipped their champagne with the Flyte sisters while the revels got going throughout the garden. There was the sound of more laughter from the house.
‘This is nice,’ she said to the caterpillar. ‘I’m feeling very happy. All of my friends are here, a lovely party and a sweetie caterpillar too. What more could a girl want?’
She noticed that the Flyte sisters had disappeared. From the direction of the balcony she began to hear the sound of instruments being tuned up, and then from the open drawing room door she caught a rich and clear voice singing faintly at first and then building more strongly. It sounded like a Negro Spiritual in the sweet night air. She realised it was Pearl Taylor, accompanied in delicate harmonies by Julia and Delia. Eddie was playing keyboards softly and Penn and Bas were playing their acoustic and bass guitars to the restrained and soulful tune.
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Nobody knows but Jesus
Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen
Glory hallelujah!
Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down
Oh, yes, Lord
Sometimes I’m almost to the ground
Oh, yes, Lord
Although you see me going ’long so
Oh, yes, Lord
I have my trials here below
Oh, yes, Lord
If you get there before I do
Oh, yes, Lord
Tell all my friends I’m coming to Heaven!
Oh, yes, Lord
Samuel Coleridge-Taylor, Traditional song from the Overture to Hiawatha’s Wedding Feast
When she had finished, Alice whooped and clapped as loudly as she could, while the other guests all joined in the applause. Pearl bowed to them and started to sing ‘Happy Birthday’. Then Mad Jack (dressed as the Hatter) accompanied by Dan the bulldog got up from their chair at the Hatter’s table and called to the crowd.
‘Anyone for the Lobster Quadrille?’
Eddie started into a wild jig on his violin.
‘It must be a very pretty dance,’ said Alice timidly.
‘Would you like to see a little of it?’ said the Mock Turtle.
‘Very much indeed,’ said Alice.
Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass
‘OK, people,’ shouted Professor Baxter, who was dressed as a cowboy. ‘I need you to form a square with four couples. Miss Taylor, will you do us the honour of being the first ninepin? Please stand in the middle.’ She nodded, familiar with this kind of dancing from her childhood.
Dottie and Penny, Penn and Izzie, Hunter and Julia and Delia and Sergeant Jones formed up into pairs, with Pearl standing in the middle of the circle.
‘OK, the four couples should all join hands and circle to the left around the ninepin using eight slip steps, then eight steps back to the right to their starting positions.’ They obediently followed Baxter’s instructions, giggling as they turned in their circles.
‘OK, that’s good. Next, the first couple, that’s you Dottie and Penny, gallop in hold past ninepin and then back the other side to your original place, followed by each of the other three couples in turn. Ninepin then swings each man in turn and his partner joins ninepin to jig in the centre. Finally, ninepin and the four women circle left and keep circling until the music stops. The one who then fails to grab a male partner becomes the new ninepin. Simple!’
*
Later that evening, Penn took Izzie by the hand for a walk amongst the shadows of the garden, towards the little fountain on the terrace.
‘Look at the moon,’ said Izzie. ‘Isn’t it beautiful? Isn’t that what they call a harvest moon?’
‘Inviting us to stay, for the clouds to fly us away.’
‘Maybe,’ she said, holding his hands closely against her waist. ‘I’m so glad I went down into the park to see who was singing there that night, you know.’
‘So am I,’ he said, kissing her. She let go of him and danced a slow passacaglia around the pond, twirling her silk scarf around her as she twisted and turned in the moonlight. When she had finished she sat opposite him, wrapping her legs around his thighs so that he couldn’t escape.
‘So, Tinks, have you heard of the author Washington Irving?’ he asked. ‘He was one of Warwickshire’s most famous writers.’
‘I’ve heard of him, of course, but why Warwickshire? I thought he was American?’
‘That’s a common but understandable mistake, of course.’
‘You do mean the Rip Van Winkle Washington Irving, don’t you?’
‘Yes, the very same, I doubt if there’s another author with such a strange name. He was a truly remarkable man, you know, an inventor amongst other things of the Columbus flat Earth theory, Santa Claus, Gotham, the New York Knicks, Sleepy Hollow, the headless horseman and by fact a resident of Birmingham, when it was still part of Warwickshire, for several years.’
‘OK clever clogs, so what about him?’ she said, passing her foot onto his stomach.
‘Well, I’ve got some news,’ he said and then waited, saying no more.
‘You can’t just leave it at that you tease, what sort of news?’
‘I just heard today that I got the part to play Ichabod Crane in the new Fox TV pilot. We’re filming in North Carolina.’
‘Wow,’ she said, ‘that’s fantastic!’ Her face darkened a little, realising the inevitable implication that he would be leaving her in England.
‘So I wondered whether you might be interested in coming to America with me.’
‘You’re joking, me go to America?’
‘Why not?’
‘Are your sails going to be black?’
‘Of course!’
‘Then of course I’ll come, my darling Tristan Penn, I’ll come with you to look for America any day of the week,’ and she leaned over to hug him, pushing him to the ground in excitement.
*
And the ancient Arrow-maker
Paused a moment ere he answered,
Smoked a little while in silence,
Looked at Hiawatha proudly,
Fondly l
ooked at Laughing Water,
And made answer very gravely:
‘Yes, if Minnehaha wishes;
Let your heart speak, Minnehaha!’
And the lovely Laughing Water
Seemed more lovely as she stood there,
Neither willing nor reluctant,
As she went to Hiawatha,
Softly took the seat beside him,
While she said, and blushed to say it,
‘I will follow you, my husband!’
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Song of Hiawatha
In another corner of the garden two somewhat older lovers held their glasses touching in the fresh night air. One was the former Wild West hero, Poshizmo Baxter; the other was his Native American Princess, Minnehaha (Dottie) Baker. After his earlier exertions calling the folk dancing, Baxter had demonstrated his lasso techniques to his friends for a while on the lawn, before singing a number of western campfire songs. He was now sitting tired, happy and somewhat philosophical under a mulberry tree, watching Izzie and Penn rolling and laughing together in the grass.
‘You seem pensive my dear, are you tired?’ asked Dottie
‘Not really. I was just thinking about a novel I am planning, after the last month or so I think I have more than enough material. I think those two might make good lead characters.’
‘That one in particular. He looks just like you used to when you were younger, my little Poshizmo; blonde, blue-eyed and red-cheeked,’ said Dottie.
‘Are you sure? That was such a long time ago and we have seen a lot of water go under the bridge since then.’
‘Absolutely, you could be father and son.’
‘Maybe, but there’s something else on my mind too. Let me ask you something, Dottie?’ he said seriously. ‘Do you still have time in your life for a sad old lost boy like me?’
