Tonight a handsome man (I may not have referred to his handsomeness previously) kissed me and it was heavenly.
Do you hear that, Phil? HEAVENLY.
Am going to bed, my dear. May have drunk a little too much sauvignon blanc at dinner.
Chapter 30
It was the “big day.” Alice felt like a small piece of clothing, a sock perhaps, in a large load of washing, on the spin cycle. People pulled her this way and that. At one point she literally had a person on each arm (neither of whom she recognized), trying to pull her in different directions. Worried faces, excited faces, smiley “ooh, this is it!” faces floated by and vanished. People gathered around her in worried clumps, firing questions, telling her about problems, about things that should have been delivered by now. “Where are the eggs meant to go?” “Where are the pastry ladies meant to be standing?” “The news crew wants to confirm they’ll be here by twelve. They want to interview you at twelve-thirty. Is that still okay? Are we on schedule?”
News crew? Interviewing her?
Cameras flashed like strobe lights. She should have listened more at the Mega Meringue meeting. She hadn’t fully grasped the immense scale of this production. It was . . . mega.
They were in a giant colorful marquee that had been erected on the school oval with a banner proclaiming: “Mega Meringue Day: Watch 100 Mums Bake the World’s Biggest Lemon Meringue Pie! $10 Entry. (Children Free.) All Proceeds to Breast Cancer Research.”
Inside, the marquee had been set up auditorium style, with raised benches around the sides where people could sit and watch. All around the sides of the tent were placards with the names of companies that were “proud to sponsor Mega Meringue Day.” Alice saw one for Dino’s Coffee Shop. In the middle was all the equipment for making the pie. It looked like a construction site. There was huge industrial equipment: a forklift, a concrete mixer, a crane, and a specially created pie dish and oven where the pie would be baked. A large round conference table had been set up with mixing bowls placed at intervals. Next to each mixing bowl was a neat selection of ingredients: eggs, flour, butter, lemons, and sugar. Maggie’s husband, the red-faced man on the treadmill, who appeared to run some sort of manufacturing company, was in charge of the equipment and was ordering around bemused workmen.
“Now, let me get this straight, we bake the pastry without the filling first, is that right?” he said to Alice.
Well, at least she knew the answer to that question. “Yes,” she said, and then more firmly: “Yes. That’s right.”
“Righto, boss,” he said, and hurried off.
People were filing into the tent, handing over their cash to two women from the Mega Meringue Committee sitting at the entryway. The benches were filling up fast. A group of children with brass instruments struck up a tune.
A corner of the tent had been devoted to activities for the children. All the activities had a “mega” theme. They could blow giant soap bubbles, toss around a giant foam ball, and paint on a massive canvas with oversized paintbrushes. Alice had left Madison, Tom, and Olivia to enjoy themselves.
“All coming together?” said someone.
It was Dominick. Jasper was with him, swinging on his father’s hand. Alice looked up, met Dominick’s eyes, and looked away guiltily. She felt like she’d cheated on him, which . . . well, maybe she had.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she said.
“Don’t even think about that today,” he answered. “Oh—but, ah, I wondered if you’d remember about tonight? Phantom of the Opera?”
Nick had taken Olivia back up to bed the night before and then left. They had agreed that their first “date” would be the following night. They were going back to their old favorite Italian restaurant. Nick had sent a text message saying he’d got the reservations.
“Um, well, I had actually forgotten,” began Alice. She really needed to break up with this kind, but essentially irrelevant, man. “The thing is, Dominick—”
“Alice, my dear!” It was Kate Harper, looking especially glossy in the morning sunlight streaming through the tent. An unhappy-faced man trailed behind her, along with a sullen Chloe. Chloe’s shorn hair had been cut into a stylish bob, but, it had to be said, she wasn’t nearly as pretty without her flowing locks.
“That’s all right, we’ll talk later,” said Dominick. “Let me know if you need me for anything. I’m right here for you.”
“I’m right here for you too, Alice!” piped up Jasper.
“I was surprised to see Madison here,” said Kate, her voice steely. “I thought you might have kept her at home, in light of . . . the incident.”
“Yes, well . . .” began Alice. It really would have been more comfortable if she’d been in the right in this situation, instead of the indisputable, shameful wrong.
“Madison is being very severely punished,” she said. Well, she would be, eventually, once Alice got around to thinking of something appropriate. She glanced over and saw Madison looking entranced as she had a turn blowing the giant soap bubbles. It was just that Madison was in such a lovely mood these days. It seemed a pity to spoil it.
“I hope so,” said Kate. She lowered her voice. “Because Chloe is traumatized . She’s not eating or sleeping properly. This will be something that will mark her for life.”
“Kate, give the poor woman a break,” said Kate’s husband. “She’s got her hands full at the moment.”
Kate’s nostrils flared, as if it had been Alice asking for the break for herself. “I realize you’re busy, but I’m not sure you fully appreciate the seriousness of this. Your phone message sounded almost flippant. What Madison did was outrageous.”
“Sorry! I’m afraid we need to steal Alice away from you.”
It was Maggie and Nora, her friends from the Mega Meringue Committee, scooping up Alice by the elbows and smoothly dragging her away.
“You’re not one of our Mega Meringue Mums, are you, Kate?” said Nora. “You might want to take a seat.”
As Alice looked back over her shoulder, she saw Kate talking furiously into her husband’s ear, her hand like a claw on his arm.
“I don’t know what I’m meant to be doing,” she admitted to Nora and Maggie. “I’m just nodding when people ask me questions.” This wasn’t like the netball umpiring, when her mind had somehow switched to autopilot.