What Alice Forgot
Page 72
Alice felt sick. She looked around for her children, wanting an excuse to get away from Kate. Tom was sitting on a bench, lecturing two other boys, who were listening intently; one even appeared to be taking notes. Olivia was doing a cartwheel while a group of girls applauded. She couldn’t see Madison.
“Well,” she said, “you can tell that Miriam not to worry. Nick and I are getting back together.”
Kate grabbed Alice’s arm so hard, it hurt. “You’re joking.”
“No.” She thought of Nick’s cold face last night as he said goodbye. “Well, anyway, we’re working on it.”
“But what happened? I mean, the things you were saying, just last week—I mean, gosh, it just seemed completely irretrievable! You said you couldn’t stand the sight of him, he made you physically ill! You said you could never forgive him! You said—”
“Forgive him for what?” interrupted Alice.
“This is such a surprise!” Kate pulled at a strand of gold hair that had got caught in her sticky, shimmery lips. She’d lost some of her posh accent in her excitement.
“What did I need to forgive him for?” Alice repressed an urge to put her hands around Kate Harper’s perfect neck and squeeze.
“Hey there.”
Someone’s hand settled gently on her shoulder.
Alice looked up and saw Dominick standing next to her.
“How are you, Kate?” said Dominick. His hand was still on Alice’s shoulder, invisibly caressing her. It was nice, but Nick did that in public. “Congratulations, you two. Saturday night was great.”
He was such a strange mix of authority and shyness.
“How are you, Dominick?” asked Kate. Her face was shiny with sympathy and fresh new gossip.
“Fighting fit for a Monday.” Dominick removed his hand from Alice’s shoulder (she missed it) and shuffled his feet while doing an absurd little boxing move.
He smiled at Alice and touched her arm again. “I’ll talk to you later.”
She smiled back. He was looking at her the way Nick looked at her when they first started going out. It was a look that made her feel highly desirable and extremely interesting. She thought of how Nick looked at her now.
“Yes, okay,” she said.
“Oh, Dominick, we need you over here!” trilled a woman.
He loped off obediently.
“So I’m assuming you haven’t told him, then? About you and Nick?” asked Kate avidly.
“Oh. No. Not yet.”
“But it’s definite?”
“Oh, well, yes. I think so. I hope so. It’s sort of a secret.”
“Got it! My lips are sealed.” Kate mimed the zipping up of her lips.
“What did I need to forgive Nick for?”
“Mmmm. Pardon?” Kate looked distracted. “Oh, well, you know, we were talking about Gina.”
“What about Gina?” In her head she had Kate by the shoulders and was shaking her until her teeth chattered.
“You know, you were saying how he didn’t even make the effort to go to the funeral. You seemed so . . . well, that’s why this is so out of the blue.”
So Nick didn’t go to Alice’s best friend’s funeral. Why not? There must have been a good reason. Surely they weren’t getting divorced over that.
“Can I just say one thing?” said Kate. She fiddled with a button on her jacket and looked up, her face awkward. “Just, look, don’t get back together if it’s just for the kids. My parents stayed together for the children.” She hooked her fingers in the air to form quotation marks around “for the children.” “And let me tell you, children know when their parents despise each other. It’s not nice. It’s not a nice way to grow up. And you know, Dominick is a catch. He really is. So, anyway, that’s Kate’s two cents’ worth for the day, my dear! I must go! Busy, busy, busy!”
Kate clip-clopped off in her high heels, swinging her handbag over her shoulder and tightening the belt of her trench coat.
Maybe she wasn’t so dreadful after all.
Elisabeth’s Homework for Jeremy I really thought about not bothering with this morning’s blood test. Just not showing up. Playing truant.
But of course I was there right on eight a.m. Writing my name on the clipboard. Presenting my forearm to the nurse. Checking the spelling of my name and my date of birth on the test tube. Pressing the cotton-wool ball to the speck of blood.
“Good luck,” said the nurse as I left.
She’s the one who always says “Good luck.” In a sort of patronizing way.
“Oh, f**k off with your good luck,” I said, and punched her in the nose.
Got you, J! I never said that. Of course I didn’t. I said, “Thanks!” Then I went into the office and Layla was there all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and telling me about how well the rest of Friday’s seminars went after I left, and how all the evaluations were positive and she got twelve bookings for the advanced seminar.
I said, “Are you even going to ask about the reason I had to leave early? You know, my sister? The one who was in hospital?”
And Jeremy, her earnest face crumpled. She looked so embarrassed, I felt like I’d kicked a kitten. She was falling all over herself to apologize. She said she thought I didn’t like to discuss personal stuff.
I don’t! I never have! Poor woman.
This is the final confirmation that I am a horrible person.
Alice sat on her front veranda steps in the autumn sunshine, eating the leftover custard tart her mother had left behind and wondering whether she was meant to be somewhere soon. Her diary for today said: “L—10 a.m.” Was “L” a person who was waiting for her somewhere? Was “L” important? She supposed she should call Elisabeth or her mother and find out, but she couldn’t seem to make the effort. Maybe she would have a nap.
A nap! Are you kidding? You have got a million and one things to do.
There was that snippy voice again.
“Go away,” said Alice out loud. “I can’t remember what those million and one things are.”
She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of sun on her face. There was no sound except for the far-off roar of a motorbike. The amazing silence of the suburbs in the middle of the day. She normally only experienced this feeling if she was sick and took the day off work.