What Alice Forgot

Tom was wandering around the kitchen, opening cupboard doors. He stood in front of the fridge, swinging the door back and forth.

“What can I eat, Mum?” he said.

Alice looked around vaguely for her mother.

“Mum,” said Tom.

Alice jumped. She was the mum.

“Well,” she said, trying to sound cheery and loving. “What do you feel like? Maybe a sandwich?”

“You can wait till dinner, Tom,” said Nick.

Oh, so that had been the correct response.

“Yes,” she said. She put on a similar voice to Nick’s. “Your father is right.” Then she giggled. She couldn’t help it. She gave Nick a mischievous look. Didn’t he find it funny, too? The two of them being the mum and the dad?

Nick just looked back at her nervously. She saw his eyes dart involuntarily to her glass of wine. Did he think she was drunk?

The little boy slammed the fridge door so hard it rattled, and said, “I think if I don’t eat soon, I might get malnourished. Look. My stomach is sticking out like a starving person. See?” He thrust out his stomach.

Alice laughed. Nick said sharply, “Stop being silly. Go and get changed out of those wet clothes.” Yes, well, it probably wasn’t the best idea to encourage your children to laugh at the plight of the starving.

The littlest child appeared. Olivia. She had smeared her lips with brightred lipstick. It had got on her teeth. Was that allowed? Alice looked over at Nick for guidance, but he was standing at the back door and looking out at the pool. “The color looks a bit green to me,” he said. “When was the last time you had the guy around?”

“Okay, Mummy, I’m ready now to be your nurse. Sit down and I’ll take your temperature.” Olivia grabbed her by the hand. Charmed by the feel of her small, warm palm, Alice let herself be led over to the sofa.

“Lie down, there’s a dear,” said Olivia.

Alice lay down and Olivia stuck a toy thermometer in her mouth. She stroked back Alice’s hair from her forehead and said, “Now I will listen to your heart, patient.” She plugged the stethoscope to her ears and pressed the other end against Alice’s chest. She frowned professionally. Alice tried not to laugh. This kid was adorable.

“Okay, patient, your heart is beating,” she said.

“Phew,” said Alice.

Olivia removed the thermometer and looked at it. Her mouth dropped. “You have a terrible fever, patient! You’re burning up!”

“Oh no! What should I do?”

“You should watch me do a cartwheel. That will cure you.”

Olivia did a perfect cartwheel. Alice applauded and Olivia bowed. She went to do another one.

“Not in the house, Olivia!” snapped Nick. “You know that!”

Olivia stuck her bottom lip out. “Please, Daddy, please. Just one more.”

“Should she be wearing your lipstick like that?” asked Nick.

“Oh, well,” said Alice, “I’m not exactly sure.”

“Let your mother get dinner started.” Nick had the same exhausted, defeated look as Elisabeth had the night before. Everyone was so tired and cranky in 2008.

“Sorry, darling Daddy.” Olivia threw her arms around Nick’s legs.

“Go and get changed out of your swimming costume,” said Nick. Olivia danced off, swirling her red cape around her.

They were alone.

“By the way, I didn’t get all of Olivia’s homework done,” said Nick. He sounded defensive, like he was confessing something.

“You mean you do Olivia’s homework for her?” asked Alice.

“Of course not! Jesus. You really do think I’m incompetent, don’t you.”

Alice sat up. “No I don’t.”

“She’s only got eight questions to go. It’s obviously more difficult when you’re all together in a small apartment. Also we didn’t quite finish Tom’s reading. And we spent three hours doing Madison’s science experiment today. Tom wanted to do it for her.”

“Nick.”

He stopped talking, took a mouthful of his wine, and looked at her.

“What?”

“Why are we getting a divorce?”

“What sort of question is that?”

“I just want to know.”

The longing to stand up and touch him was so strong, she had to press her hands against her thighs to stop herself from leaping up and burying her head under his chin.

“It doesn’t matter why we’re getting a divorce,” said Nick. “I’m not having this conversation. What is the point of it? I’m not interested in playing games tonight, Alice. I’m exhausted. If you’re trying to make me say something you can use against me, it’s not going to work.”

“Oh,” said Alice.

Would her capacity for shock ever run out? She realized that ever since Elisabeth had first uttered the word “divorce” at the hospital, she’d been waiting to see Nick so that he could take it away, make it nothing to do with them.

“Maybe I should just go home,” said Nick, putting his glass down on the coffee table.

“You told me once that if we were ever having trouble with our relationship, you would move heaven and earth to try and fix it,” said Alice. “We were at that new Italian restaurant when you said that. We were peeling the wax off the candlestick. I remember it very, very clearly.”

“Alice.”

“You said we were going to get old and grumpy together and go on coach tours and play bingo. The garlic bread was cold but we were too hungry to complain.”

Nick’s lower lip had dropped, so he looked stupid.

“One night, we were standing in Sarah O’Brien’s driveway waiting for a taxi and I asked if you thought Sarah looked even more beautiful than usual that night, and you said, ‘Alice, I could never love anyone the way I love you,’ and I laughed and said, ‘That wasn’t the question,’ but it was the question, because I was feeling insecure, and that’s what you said. You said that. It was cold. You were wearing that big woolly jumper that you lost at Katoomba. Don’t you remember?”

She could feel her nose starting to block.

Nick was holding his palms up in a panicky fashion, as if there were a fire starting right in front of him but he couldn’t see anything handy to extinguish it.