What Alice Forgot

  Alice put her hand around the handbrake.

  "Did you even brush your hair this morning, Mum?" asked Madison. "You look sort of ... disgusting. No offense."

  Alice put a hand to her hair and tried to smooth it down. She had assumed that she didn't need to dress up for dropping the kids off at school. She hadn't bothered with hair or makeup and had pulled on a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and an old watermelon-colored jumper she'd found at the back of the drawer. The jumper was faded and frayed, and it had given Alice a start when she realized she remembered buying it brand new with Elisabeth just the other week.

  Just the other week ten years ago.

  "Don't be mean to darling Mummy," Olivia said to Madison.

  "Don't be mean to darling Mummy!" mimicked Madison in a sugarysweet voice.

  "Stop copying me!" Alice felt the thud of Olivia's feet against her lower back as she kicked the seat.

  "We're so late," moaned Tom.

  "Would you three just be quiet for once in your lives!" snapped Alice, in a voice entirely unlike her own, and at the same time, she released the handbrake and reversed out of the driveway and turned left, her hands smooth and capable on the leather-clad steering wheel, as if she'd said exactly those words and done exactly that maneuver a million times before.

  She drove toward the lights, her hand already on the indicator to turn right.

  There was a sullen silence in the back of the car.

  "So, what's happening at school today?" she said.

  Madison sighed dramatically as if she'd never heard a more stupid comment.

  "Volcanoes," answered Tom. "We're talking about what makes a volcano erupt. I've written down some questions for Mrs. Buckley. Some pret-ty tricky questions."

  Poor Mrs. Buckley.

  "We're making a Mother's Day surprise," said Olivia.

  "Now it's not a surprise, is it?" said Madison.

  "It is so!" said Olivia. "Mum, it is, isn't it?"

  "Yes, of course it's still a surprise, I don't know what you're making," said Alice.

  "We're making special candles," said Olivia.

  "Ha!" said Madison.

  "Well, I still don't know what color they are," said Alice.

  "Pink!" said Olivia.

  Alice laughed.

  "Idiot," said Madison.

  "Don't call her that," said Alice. Had she and Elisabeth spoken to each other in such a horrible way? Well, there was that time Elisabeth threw the nail scissors at her. For the first time, Alice felt sorry for their mother. She didn't remember her ever yelling at them when they fought, just sighing a lot, and saying plaintively, "Be nice, girls."

  They were pulled up at a red light. The lights changed and Alice had no idea where to go.

  "Umm," she said.

  "Straight ahead. Second on the left," said Tom laconically from the back, sounding so much like his father that Alice wanted to laugh.

  Alice drove. The car was huge and unfamiliar again.

  She saw she was driving behind a similarly huge car with a woman at the wheel and two small heads bobbing about in the back.

  Alice was a mother driving her three children to school. She did this every day. It was unbelievable. Hilarious.

  "So, compared to the other mums at school," she said, "am I strict?"

  "You're like a Nazi," said Madison. "You're like the Gestapo."

  "You're about average," said Tom. "Like, for example, Bruno's mum won't even let him go on school excursions, that's how mean she is. But then there's Alistair's mum--she lets him stay up till nine o'clock, and they have KFC whenever they want, and they watch television when they're eating their breakfast."

  "Hey!" said Alice.

  "Oh, yeah." Tom gave a dry chuckle. "Sorry, Mum."

  "When am I like the Gestapo?" asked Alice.

  "Don't worry about it," sighed Madison. "You can't help it."

  "I don't think you're strict," said Olivia. "Just--sometimes, you get a bit angry."

  "What makes me angry?" asked Alice.

  "Me," said Madison. "Just looking at me makes you mad."

  "Running late for school normally makes you really mad," said Tom. "Ummm, let's see, what else. Doors slamming. You can't stand it when a door slams. You have got really delicate ears."

  "Daddy makes you angry," said Olivia.

  "Oh, yeah," agreed Tom. "Dad makes you the angriest."

  "Why?" Alice tried not to sound too interested. "What does he do that makes me so angry?"

  "You hate him," said Tom.

  "I'm sure that's not true," said Alice.

  "You do," said Madison wearily. "You've just forgotten that you do."

  Alice looked in the rear-vision mirror at her three extraordinary children. Tom was frowning at a chunky plastic wristwatch, Olivia was staring dreamily ahead, and Madison had her forehead pressed against the car window, her eyes closed. What had she and Nick done to them? This casual talk about hatred. She was filled with shame.

  "I'm sorry," she said.

  "Sorry for what?" said Olivia, who seemed to be the only one listening.

  "I'm sorry about your dad and me."

  "Oh, that's okay," said Olivia. "Can we have hot chocolates after school?"

  "That's a green arrow," said Tom tersely.

  Alice pulled into a street lined with trucklike cars similar to the one she was driving. It looked like a festival. A festival of women and children. The women stood in groups of two or three, sunglasses pushed up on their foreheads, scarves slung around necks. They wore jeans and boots, beautifully cut suede jackets. Were mothers always this attractive and thin? Alice tried to remember the mothers from her own school days. Weren't they sort of chunky and plain? Sort of irrelevant and fading into the background? A few women waved when they saw Alice. She recognized someone who had got quite drunk at the kindergarten cocktail party. Oh Lord, she should have done her hair.

  The children whooped and swooped about in their blue school uniforms, like flocks of tiny birds. All those innocent, smooth-skinned faces.

  "We're not late," said Alice.

  "We're late for us," muttered Tom. "I've got a meeting of my spy club. They don't know what to do without me."

  They found a parking spot.

  "Watch it," winced Tom as Alice backed the car into the curb with a thud.

  She breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled the keys from the ignition. The children immediately unclicked seat belts and opened the heavy car doors with a clunk, sliding out of the car, backpacks slung over their shoulders.

  "Hey, wait for me!" said Alice, worried about procedures and kisses goodbye.

  As she got out of the car, she saw Dominick. He was wearing a tie, his shirtsleeves carefully folded up to his elbows, and he was squatting down to talk to three boys who were explaining something to him that appeared to be about a soccer ball. Dominick was nodding seriously, as if he were in a top-level business negotiation. Two mothers were standing nearby, waiting to talk to him. Dominick caught sight of Alice and winked. Alice smiled self-consciously. He was nice. There was no denying it. He was very, very ... nice.

  "Have you slept with him yet?" said a posh voice in her ear, and the heavy sweet scent of a beauty salon filled Alice's nostrils.

  It was that dreadful Kate Harper woman again.

  "Oh, hi." Alice reeled back. Kate was wearing a beautifully fitted trench coat, skin polished, lips shimmery. It was a bit much for this time of the morning.

  Kate didn't wait for an answer. "God, I'm jealous. It's been a year for us."

  "A year?"

  "A year since we've done the deed. I must have cobwebs down there."

  The things strangers told you.

  Kate was still looking at Dominick. "The claws are out, by the way. Miriam Dane has had her eye on him for ages. Apparently, she told Felicity that she thought it was rather poor form for you to go after him only three months after you and Nick separated. I promised I wouldn't pass it on, but of course I knew you'd want to know!" She lowere
d her voice. Her beautiful face turned nasty. "You'll die laughing when you hear this. Apparently, after she'd had a few drinks at the party the other night, Miriam called you the S-word."

  Alice looked at her without comprehension.

  Kate lowered her voice and whispered, "Slut!" Then she raised it again and screeched, "Isn't that hilarious? Isn't that just so eighties! I thought, I must tell Alice, she'll love that! The woman is pea green with jealousy! And of course she hated it when Tom kicked that goal at soccer, when, you know, she's been getting all that extra training for Harry, because he's supposedly so talented, ha, ha, that little piglet!"

  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, fuck 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.

  She opened her eyes again and yawned. She might as well eat the rest of the custard tart now. There was only a sliver left. From where she was sitting she could see the For Sale sign on the house opposite. So that's where Gina had lived. Alice had probably been inside that "stunning renovated character home" many times, borrowing sugar, or whatever. If Alice had thought about it at all, she would have assumed she wouldn't have made any new friends in her thirties. She had quite sufficient. Besides which, she really just wanted to hang around with Nick and Elisabeth, and she was going to become a mother. She thought that would have been enough of a distraction.

  Yet it seemed as though her friendship with Gina had been a significant part of her life.

  And then Gina had died and she'd been "devastated." It made Alice feel sort of silly. As if she'd made too big a fuss over something.

  The sound of the motorbike got closer.

  Goodness. It was coming up her driveway. Was this "L"?

  Alice wiped a hand across her mouth and put the plate down on the step next to her.

  A man in a black leather jacket, his face invisible behind his opaque black helmet, lifted a casual gloved hand in greeting as he pulled up in front of her. He stopped the bike and turned off the ignition.

  "Hey there," he said, as he pulled off his helmet and unzipped hi
s jacket.

  "Hey," said Alice, and coughed because she'd never said "Hey" to anyone before. He was so handsome, it was like a joke. He was all broad shoulders, biceps, piercing eyes, and stubbled jaw. Alice found herself looking around for another woman. There was no point in such a gorgeous man without a friend or sister there so you could exchange glances.

  Surely, she wasn't dating him as well? It wouldn't be possible. He was way out of her league. He was a cartoon character. She felt a wave of giggles rising in her chest.

  "What are you doing eating just before a session?" asked the sex god.

  "A session?" asked Alice. Her mind raced. Oh, my Lord, maybe he was a gigolo and he was here to service her. After all, she was a middle-aged woman with a swimming pool.

  "That's not like you."

  He pulled off his leather jacket and his white T-shirt rode up to reveal his stomach.

  Well, it wouldn't be the end of the world.

  No sirrreee. If she'd paid in advance, for example ...

  Alice began to giggle helplessly.

  He smiled warily. "What's the joke?" He rested his helmet on the front of his bike and walked over toward her. What could she say? You're so good-looking, I find it hilarious.

  She was giggling so hard her legs felt weak. He looked frightened. For heaven's sake. Attractive people were still real. They had feelings. Alice took a hold of herself.

  "I had an accident," she said, looking up at him. "Last week. At the gym. Hit my head. I'm suffering a bit of memory loss. So, I'm sorry, I don't know who you are, or, ah, why you're here."

  "You're kidding." He looked down at her suspiciously. "It's not April Fools' Day, is it?"

  "No," sighed Alice. Her giggles drifted away. She had a bit of a headache actually. Damned head. "I don't know who you are."

  "It's me," he said. "Luke."

  "I'm sorry, Luke. I need more information."

  He laughed a bit, and his eyes darted around nervously as if someone might be watching him make a fool of himself. "I'm your personal trainer. I come every Monday morning to give you a training session."

  Oh, for heaven's sake. No wonder she was so skinny.

  "So, we exercise, is that right? What do we do exactly?"

  "Well, we vary it. A bit of cardio, some weights. We've been doing well with the interval training lately."

  Alice had no idea what he was talking about.

  "I just had three pieces of custard tart," she said, holding up the plate.

  Luke sat down next to her and helped himself to the last piece of tart. "Yeah, I won't tell you how many calories you just consumed."