After breakfast, Elspeth, Eileen and Alice spent several hours looking through the family history and showed her a small portrait gallery which housed paintings of the Carmichael family as far back as the reign of Queen Elizabeth II. Alice gazed at the miniature, painted likeness of the Queen she remembered and admired. She'd fashioned her own hairstyle on the Queen's in her old life. Her hand went up to her hair, absently winding a strand of her thick locks around her finger, lost for a moment back in time.
Corbin and Edmund excused themselves to go to work and school, respectively. Patrick’s mother continued with a compelling history of both the hall and the Carmichael family, showing her a second, private gallery with earlier paintings of the family, in original unrestored condition—there was even one of Cromwell. Eventually, Patrick turned up to lure her away.
“We have some interesting outbuildings as well, Alice. Walk with me?”
She looked to Elspeth.
“Yes, of course, off you go. I’m sure much of this history is invented anyway, dredged up from someone’s imagination, I shouldn’t wonder!”
“Is it made up, Patrick?” Alice said as he led her away. “It’s very interesting.”
"No, it's not made up, and Mother doesn't think so either, Alice, she enjoys talking to visitors, she rather likes the idea of her ancestor being a loose woman!"
“I’m sure being a mistress to a king was something a woman aspired to, Patrick.”
“Yes, but that king had heaps of consorts, though the way my mother tells it, her ancestor was his one and only true love!”
“She’s just a romantic.”
“Talking of romantic, what do you think of this?”
They rounded the side of the house, and from where they stood, high on a hill, Alice looked down on a village set in rows along the green hillside, a small harbour with bobbing boats stretched out along the harbour wall. The houses were tiny, painted in different colours and the roofs were all made from shingle. It looked like a picture postcard.
“It’s as though time stood still, Patrick,” Alice gazed on the scene with wonderment. A glimpse into ancient history.
“I brought you to this spot because of your love of old buildings. In a way, time did stand still. In the last wave of plague, the most aggressive wave, four hundred years ago, this entire village and every person within 50kms was wiped out, every man, woman and child, including some of my own ancestors. The village lay abandoned for 100 years, the Seanad Éireann, a token government body at the time, preserved this, and other landmarks of ancient Ireland. There was a fair amount of resistance to becoming a principality later on, but I don’t believe we lost our individuality.”
“Well, certainly, none of your family lost their accents.”
He laughed.
“No, all cultures learn the language of their ancestors, you must have noticed Educator Sebel’s accent?”
“She’s French.”
“Not now she’s not, but she would speak her native language fluently and use it in conversation with her countrymen.”
“Not principalitymen?”
“We still say, ‘countrymen’.”
“What about people from different principalities who marry and have children? What language would their child speak?”
"It depends on where they live. A child born here would learn Gaelic even if the father was from Principality 14, what you call France, if the roles were reversed, the child would speak French, but as a rule, a child will learn the language of both parents with standard English being the universal tongue."
Alice looked out to sea, the breeze whipped her hair about her face and billowed out her white blouse. She imagined—felt even—the history of this place, stretching back through the ages, full of the ghosts of peasant farmers, fishermen and of course, nobility. Patrick watched her and willed himself not to reach out and encircle her in his arms. He’d already indulged himself enough today, he would not frighten her like he did at the Tabernacle.
“It’s beautiful here, Patrick,” she turned to him, her eyes shining. “Auntie Mary was right—even if it is a bit breezy!”
“Windswept suits you,” he smiled.
She smiled back, not believing him for a moment.
“I’ve really enjoyed this visit, Patrick. I’m glad I came.”
“I’m glad too, but I must take you home soon.”
He watched her for a moment as if he would say something more, and Alice wondered if he would try to hold her or kiss her, and she made to step back, but he kept a polite distance. When he didn't speak or take his eyes from her, she prompted him.
“Should we be leaving, Patrick?”
“Yes, yes, we should,” he took her hand. ‘I have to get back to the ship.”
It wasn’t entirely true but the nearness of her, seeing her in this setting, he was in danger of forgetting all his resolutions and making a pest of himself.
Back at the apartment, Alice caught sight of a portrait of a dark-haired man with startling blue eyes.
“My father,” Patrick said.
“You look just like him.”
“So I’m told.”
It was easy to see where Patrick got his looks. The picture was under glass, and Alice moved closer to get a better look. As she studied his father's face, she saw a movement and briefly, the reflection of a pale, white-haired young man peering over her shoulder. Suddenly gripped by a sensation of bitter cold, she turned quickly and lost her balance. Patrick caught her as she stumbled. Concerned, he helped her to a seat. Alice thought to tell him about the face, but she'd seen it before, so there was no way it was anything to do with the portrait. Patrick knelt in front of her, holding her hands, rubbing them in his own to warm them.
“I can’t believe my father still has that kind of effect on young women!”
Alice smiled weakly, “I’m not sure what happened there, Patrick. I thought I saw someone reflected in the glass, then I felt faint.”
"There's no-one else here, Alice, just us, but you went so pale, and your hands are very cold."
“Maybe best you take me home.”
He nodded, supporting her as she stood, staying close to her as she said goodbye to his mother and sister. The youth unsettled her, she didn't know why he kept appearing, and here of all places. She had no memory of anyone who looked like the youth and wondered if he was someone from Alexis Langley's past—if so, it might be a good thing and she might remember him in time.
As the automatrans lifted, Elspeth turned to her daughter.
“Bhuel Eileen is é sin cailín álainn amháin,” she said with a smile.
“I agree, mother, she is lovely, and it seems my brother has lost his heart.”
“Finally!” his mother laughed and raised her eyes and arms to the heavens.
Patrick told the aunties about Alice's fainting spell, and they insisted she sit and take it easy, even though she'd recovered and would have preferred to take Jorrocks out for a ride, but she did as she was told.
“What was it like?” Mary said after Patrick left.
“Impressive, Auntie Mary. There is so much history there, and his family are lovely.”
“Good, he’s a nice man, Alice. I hope I didn’t push you into going, Jane thought you were reluctant.”
Alice shook her head; she'd felt easy and comfortable with Patrick today.
Chapter 6
In the few days before the ball, there were times—Alice knew—to feel brave, you had to act brave. The ball would be one of those times. Principal Katya suggested she arrive the night before and stay for a few days, but warned her she might be in Cloisters and unavailable, expecting to have only a little free time in which they might do some exploring of the principality. Alice felt torn, she wanted to spend time with Principal Katya, but now she had a home, where she felt safe and loved—she knew she wouldn’t want to stay away too long. But she also couldn’t refuse Principal Katya after all she’d done for her, so she accepted the offer to stay, even though s
he would breathe a sigh of relief when the ball was over.
A Tabernacle shuttle arrived to collect her, piloted by Sarah’s son, Peter, who gave her the welcome news Sarah would act as her steward during her time at the Tabernacle.
Principal Katya waited by the lake for the shuttle to arrive, holding out her arms in welcome to Alice as soon as the exit hatch opened.
“Alice, my dear. I am so happy you are here,” she pulled Alice close to kiss her cheeks. It was good to see Principal Katya, and as they entered the Great Hall, to accept the warm greetings of Statesman Mellor and Statesman Evesham and the other councilmen she met during her stay here. Seeing them all again made almost all her earlier nervousness evaporate, and it occurred to her, with some degree of contentment, she might have more than one home.
“Miss Ling will do your hair for you tomorrow, my dear,” Principal Katya informed her. “I have instructed her to make it a little more dramatic for the dance.”
“Dramatic?”
Alice wasn’t sure if she could carry off dramatic hair. It could mean anything if Principal Katya had a say in it.
“Well, young Alice, you always wear your hair loose, and it is so long and thick. Don't worry, Miss Ling is very creative. Besides, a change from time to time for a special occasion is a good thing.”
Alice looked at Principal Katya’s blue rinse, intensified to almost purple since she last saw it. Alice smiled to herself, she’d never been so daring.
“You have pretty things to wear?” Principal Katya asked.
“A new dress,” Alice answered. “It’s lovely. I’ve never worn anything like it. I always considered myself rather plain and dowdy.”
“I cannot believe you would ever see yourself in that light. Consider Patrick’s attention to you, he has an eye for a pretty girl. Plain and dowdy would never be on his very sensitive radar. Now tell me, what is dowdy?”
Trust Principal Katya to use a word in context before even knowing its meaning!
Alice laughed and accepted Principal Katya’s offer to link arms.
“In all honesty, Principal Katya, I haven't seen anything in this world that even comes close to dowdy.”
Unusually, Principal Katya didn't go to dinner that evening, and seeing her table empty, Alice decided she too would skip the meal and instead, enjoy a walk in the gardens. Later, she engaged in pleasant conversation with Statesman Mellor in the Great Hall, learning from him that Principal Ryan arrived in the afternoon and entered Cloisters immediately, along with Principal Katya and various councilmen and statesmen—no doubt discussing the mission just gone and the one to come.
Politics, Alice thought without interest, not her scene. She enquired if Patrick had arrived, but she was told no, he detoured to his home principality briefly to see his family and would arrive the next day in time for the ball.
Alice didn’t see Principal Katya or Patrick the next morning and sat with Statesman Mellor at breakfast. Patrick hadn’t arrived yet he told her, and Principal Katya was still in her bed. But Alice received a very welcome visit later in the morning in the form of Dr Grossmith. They walked down to the lake to feed the ducks.
“You look amazing Alice,” Dr Grossmith said, “even better than when you were on Saturn Station. You have a glow about you and—are those freckles? You must be enjoying the sun!”
“If you want the truth, Dr Grossmith, it’s because I’m happy. I expect you know about the relative of Alexis Langley, whom Principal Katya found?”
“I know she found a relative who seemed a close match. She lives in the Calamities, I believe? A bit of a rebel?”
"She has a wife. An indigenous wife. They are a devoted couple, and I love being around them. We have a beautiful home, animals, a vegetable garden; we make our own cheese. It's like heaven to me."
"It sounds idyllic. You were so concerned about the Calamities," he laughed, reminding Alice of her former fears.
“I was, but now I just feel very blessed,” she smiled.
"I'm glad for you, and I look forward to meeting them. Now, do you feel well, Alice?"
“Why? Are you worried?”
The question came as a surprise because she felt fine, blissfully happy, anxieties about the ball aside.
"I'm not worried," he hastened to reassure her. "Just checking, not so many years ago, you woke from a 400-year sleep, and you've only been aware for a few months'!"
“I’m fine, Dr Grossmith. Auntie Jane checks my heart and kidneys regularly. I heard Dr Clere organised a committee to study me.”
“Yes, he takes a peculiar view that encouraging you to live your life, to make choices about the direction your life should take, represents an opportunity lost to the scientific world.”
“How many people are on this committee?”
"Just he and two others, both part of his team. He can't ask anyone else as you are classified as far as he's concerned. I'm not entirely sure his team agree with him, I believe they feel they cannot refuse. His position is, you are unique and your biology, which at present is unremarkable, should be studied. We all know what he really wants is to discover the secret behind your extraordinary preservation and how it was achieved. He believes, almost to the point of fanaticism, that you know the formula and are simply not saying—that your claim of a different identity is subterfuge. He proposes organised study—tissue samples, brain activity…"
“Why do they wish to study those things?” she cut in, holding up her hands to stop him mid-sentence. “Surely, if someone who, as you say, is 400 years old and can live amongst humankind once more, that would be worth studying as a social experiment? Not the biology of it all?”
"Clere doesn't agree. He doesn't want you here. He argues you be returned to Saturn Station. I sent a message to Principal Katya regarding the formation of his proposal. She's opposed, and the decision rests with her."
“Not with me?”
Dr Grossmith stopped short. Well, that was unexpected, but on reflection, she should have been informed. He’d been so used to making all the decisions it hadn’t occurred to him. So, he asked her now.
“Do you wish to be studied?”
“No, I don’t, but Dr Clere should be approaching me about it and not organising a lynch mob! If I knew the answers, what possible reason could I have to keep them secret?”
Dr Grossmith was impressed to see Alice protecting herself, using strong words. Yes, he approved of this progress; independence was to be encouraged, and he should not treat her as a child, making decisions on her behalf. He would mention this progress to Principal Katya.
“Dr Grossmith?”
She was studying him as he considered her new-found confidence.
“Yes?”
“I don’t really know what all this means and how it will affect me, I just want to be left alone. There are still times when I don’t believe this can be real,” she looked around her at the ducks, the Tabernacle, the lake, at him. “Alice Watkins could only dream of a life like this; it might just be make-believe, with events taking place because I’m asleep in the wrong position or suffered a terrible illness in real life.”
Dr Grossmith didn’t dismiss what she said; she still clung to the only past she remembered.
“Your knowledge of the 20th and 21st centuries astonished Principal Hardy, leading him to the conclusion you have studied history at some point,” he said. “As for this being a dream, I’m not prepared to speculate or confuse you, my dear, but my life is not a dream. I’m real.”
He took her hand, covering her fingers with his own to grip his arm, making her smile.
"I dedicated my life to you. To see you awakened and marvelling at your world, even your occasional bewilderment is a priceless gift. Alice, to me, you and this world are as real and as undreamlike as can be."
“I could dream you up in a dream though, couldn’t I?”
"Yes, anything is possible in a dream world, but this world is the real world. Your experiences up to now are real. We don't know how you manag
ed to survive the centuries and end up here. That is the dream, Alice."
“And a dream for Dr Clere. To have something extraordinary to study. To bring him glory perhaps?”
“There's truth in that. But Clere will be vetoed. He won't act against the Tabernacle. Now, to lighter things. Are you looking forward to the dance?”
She sighed.
“I’m nervous, but Statesman Patrick will be with me, and knowing you are attending as well with Principal Katya and my other friends, I feel much safer.”
“Good,” he nodded towards the Tabernacle where Miss Ling waved frantically to attract their attention. “Miss Ling appears to need you.”
Miss Ling and Sarah spent the late afternoon with Alice, styling her hair and sampling different colour effects in making up her eyes. They didn’t let her see herself until they finished, then brought the image definer for her to view their creation. Miss Ling cut Alice’s hair into layers without disturbing the overall length, resulting in a cascade of soft waves to frame her face; an effect Alice liked. Miss Ling lifted sections of the hair, weaving the curls to give height to the style and finishing with an alluring single large ringlet that hung down the centre of Alice’s back.
Sarah, who adored the creamy pearl colour chosen for the dress, decided to follow the subtlety of the picture she’d drawn for Alice, highlighting the green of her eyes and darkening her lashes. She wanted the natural colour of Alice’s complexion to shine through, but Alice wasn’t happy about her freckles and took some persuading not to cover them up.
“They’re only over the bridge of your nose, Alice,” Sarah said, pulling in Miss Ling for solidarity and in the end, up against such a united front, Alice conceded her skin looked nice even with no cover. Miss Ling performed a manicure, a procedure Alice had never experienced. Wherever Michelle went to have hers, Alice was sure, it would not have been accomplished by three rotating beams of light.
The Afterlife of Alice Watkins 2 Page 5
