What Alice Sees: Chapter 6

July 14th 1993

“My Mummy’s here,” Alice cried out, tugging on her teacher’s sleeve. She stood in a crowd of her classmates, all jiggling and jostling by the door to get to the front and look for whoever was picking them up.

Mrs Radcliff scanned the playground until she spied Alice’s mother amongst the adults.

“Off you go then,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”

Alice ran off across the tarmac, her arms full with her satchel, lunch box and coat. Mummy and Jack’s dad stood close together, deep in conversation. Mummy kept touching her hair and twiddling strands around her fingers. Her arm dropped and they stopped speaking as Alice came closer. Mummy stepped away from him, and towards Alice.

“Hi Mummy, did you think about it? Can we throw a party?” Alice emptied her things into her mother’s arms, and gave Jack’s dad a smile. He smiled back, and moved off closer to the mob of children by the door.

“I had a think, and I don’t think Daddy’s ready for a big event. So we can’t invite lots of people around, but how about you, Daddy and I eat cake and ice cream, and watch a movie. How does that sound?”

Alice thought for a moment. “I guess so. Will David like the cake?”

“I’m sure he will.”

“Great,” Alice said.

They walked towards the gate, hand in hand.

“Do you think that man will come again?”

“Alice, not this again.”

“But he came last year. He stood by the window and talked to me.”

“Don’t expect him, okay?” Mummy sighed deeply. “Come on, let’s get home, and no more talk about strange men in your bedroom.”

“Yes, Mummy.”

***

Alice flopped down on the sofa when she got home, digging under the cushions until only her head and feet stuck out. She pushed aside an itchy tassel and reached for a silky cover to rub between her fingers.

Mummy turned on the telly, and flicked through the channels. “Is Rugrats okay?”

Alice nodded, the cushion above her head almost falling off. “Can you get Bubbles for me?”

“Here you go,” Mummy said a few minutes later. As she handed over the bear, the front door opened and closed quietly. Mummy frowned. “Be back in a mo.” Mummy went into the hallway, pulling the living room door closed behind her. “Shaun, what are you doing home?” she said, her voice muffled through the wood.

Alice heard her father stomp through to the kitchen and yank a chair out from under the table, scraping it across the tiles.

“I got bloody fired!” he yelled.

“Again?”

Alice shrugged off all the cushions, and with Bubbles clasped in on hand, tiptoed to the door. She opened it in time to see Mummy storm down the hall to the kitchen. Alice crept into the hall, sliding along the wall, under all the photos of her, of David, of all of them smiling when her brother was only days old. Under the stairs was a cubby where they threw shoes and boots. Alice pushed some out the way, and settled into the shadows. From her vantage point, Alice could see her father at the table and Mummy pacing along beside the kitchen counter.

“My boss is a fucking racist pig.” Daddy banged his fist down on the table.

“You said the same thing about the last one. What do you think he did?” Mummy took a dishcloth from the sink, wiped savagely at the counter, hung her head and then chucked the cloth back in the sink. She hit the kettle, flicking it into action, and took a mug from the cabinet above.

“He thought I was a worthless fucking half-breed, just like Jefferson did. It’s the way they look at me. You should be there. You’d see it in an instant.” He leaned down onto the table, and stuffed his hands into his hair.

Mummy sighed. “And how can you be so sure?”

“I asked him.”

“You did what?” Mummy turned around, her eyes wide and incredulous. Her fingers loosened, and the cup dropped from her fingers. 

Alice cuddled Bubbles harder, watching as the cup fell to the tiles and smashed apart, shards scattering in all directions. A second later, all was still again, Mummy still fixed on Daddy, while he closed his eyes.

“I said I knew what he thought of me, and how I was going to take him to the employees’ tribunal and sue him.” He opened his eyes and turned to face Mummy, but looked down at the floor instead.

“And then he fired you.”

“Yes.”

“You need to get help.” Mummy took a bucket from under the sink and started putting the larger shards inside.

“No, I don’t. I need people to stop treating me like a mutated fucking half-breed!” Daddy shouted.

“Keep your voice down. How do you think you’re going to make Alice feel? God, she’s even more genetically mixed up than you,” she hissed.

“Yes, but she’s a girl,” he said, “and anyway, I’ve never seen a more beautiful child.” He paused for a few seconds. “David would have been just as beautiful.”

“Oh, no.” Mummy took out the dustpan and brush and swept up the last of the smashed cup. “Everything comes back to him, doesn’t it?”

Daddy slammed his fists on the table.

“He died two years ago!” she shouted, then lowered her voice to a whisper, “He died, and no one could do anything about it. He simply wasn’t made for this world.” Mummy emptied the dustpan in the bucket and put it by the back door. “Get over him.”

“How can you say that? You’re his mother for God’s sake!” Daddy pushed back at the table and jumped to his feet.

“No, Shaun. I was his mother. I am still Alice’s mother, and she needs me to be there for her, not be a quivering wreck who gets fired every other month and blames their instability on racist pigs, and never once acknowledges their own paranoid accusations. People get tired of being treated that way.”

“How dare you.” He swung at her. His face was screwed up, eyes closed into slits, his cheeks red and teeth bared. But as the slap contacted his expression slackened, his eyes opened wide and his mouth fell open.

Alice gasped, along with her mother, the little girl strangling Bubbles in her grip. She pushed back into the cupboard, amongst the shoes, tears slipping down her cheeks. In the kitchen, Daddy held his hand in front of him as if the limb didn’t belong to him, and started pacing. Mummy fell back against the counter, a palm to her face.

“I’m so sorry,” Daddy muttered. “I really shouldn’t have done that...”

“You hit me.” Her voice had the sound of incredulity. Her eyes flashed with hate, and she took three steps up to Daddy. He collapsed back into his chair, his hand still held out, and looked up to face her. Without a pause in her motion, Mummy pulled back her right hand and smacked him hard across the face. She stalked away from Daddy, grabbed a tea towel from the front of the oven, wet it under the cold tap, and put the damp cloth to her cheek. “Next time I walk.”

Daddy stared at her, his face drained of colour. Her parents wore matching red handprints on their cheeks. A cry hiccupped in Alice’s chest. She held Bubbles tight and tried to stop her tears.

“Never ever hit me again.” Mummy pressed the towel to her face, wincing as she did. “And stop holding your arm out. You look like a fucking idiot.” She took a deep breath and said, “You need to go to the doctor.”

Daddy collapsed on the table, his arms folded underneath his head. “Why? Can they cure getting-fired-itus?”

Under the stairs, Alice stifled a yawn, and shifted her leg off the edge of a shoe. The excitement seemed to be over as suddenly as it had started. Alice wiped at her wet cheeks then leaned forward to peer down the hall, debating about going back to the living room.

“They can treat depression.”

“I’m not fucking depressed,” Daddy said.

“You’re showing some of the symptoms, and I want them to check you out.”

“What bloody symptoms?”

“Like uncharacteristic violence.” Mummy blotted her cheek with the tea towel.

“Fuck you.”

“Healthy attitude,” Mummy said. “You want everyone to think you’re an arse?”

Daddy shrugged, still face down on the table.

“What about the fact that you sleep all the time.” Mummy flicked the kettle back on and took down a fresh mug. “And you’re always irritable.”

“So are you for one week a month.”

Mummy ignored him and said, “You can’t stand to be around Alice.”

Daddy froze, as did Alice, now sat cross-legged, Bubbles on her lap. She picked at the toy’s bow and listened harder.

“That’s not true,” he whispered.

“When’s the last time you bathed her? Or read a book to her? Or even kissed her goodnight?”

Daddy turned away, his line of sight directly on the cubby where Alice sat hidden. She waited, unmoving until her father collapsed on the table again.

“She misses you. I promise her almost every night that Daddy will come cuddle her to sleep tomorrow night. I tell her you’re unwell, and are already asleep in bed.”

“But that’s true…”

“What normal adult goes to sleep at six o’clock in the evening? Answer me!” Mummy poured water into her cup and sloshed the teabag around. “She misses you.”

Daddy sat up and stared out the window.

“I have a suggestion.” Mummy sat down opposite Daddy, her back to Alice. “I’m going to go back to work. I’ll earn the money and make sure we don’t lose the house, you take care of Alice for a while.”

“No,” Daddy said. “I’m not going to be some pansy stay at home Dad.”

“So what’s your suggestion?”

“I’ll come up with something.”

“Okay, how’s this. I’ll tell the nursing agency I’ll be available for work again on the first of August. You have until that date to get another job, see the doctor about your depression, and start noticing Alice again.”

Alice watched as her father raised himself out of his seat, as if he were already an old man, and pick up one of her mother’s hands. He pulled Mummy towards him, and they held each other in the middle of the kitchen, swaying gently. Alice tiptoed back into the living room, Bubbles dangling from one hand, and sat back in front of the telly.

***

That night, after her mother had tucked her in, stuffed animals surrounding her, Daddy pushed the door open and poked his head around the door so he could see in.

“May I come in?” he asked.

Alice nodded. “You miss him a lot, don’t you, Daddy.”

“Yes. I do.” Daddy stared at the cot. “Can we take that down sometime soon? I think that might be making things worse for me…” he broke off, his voice heavy with emotion.

“Will you come in and give me cuddles before bed, then?”

“I’ll certainly try.”

“Can I keep the photo?”

Daddy walked over and peered in.

“This one? The one on the pillow?” He picked up a tatty photo of a newborn baby.

“That’s David.” Alice sat up in bed, Bubbles between her arms. “I can talk to him if he’s over there. And I can remember him.”

“I see.” Daddy turned from Alice, wiping his eyes with one hand, holding the photo with the other. “It’s a good photo of him.”

“Can I keep the blankets, as well?” she asked.

“Why?”He put the photo back down and turned to her, a questioning frown playing on his features.

“They smell like him,” Alice said.

“Still?” He took one from the cot and sniffed deeply. “My God, this really does.” He didn’t turn from her this time, openly crying in the middle of the room.

“You miss him more than me. Do you want a blanket?” Alice looked to the door. Would her mummy come in? Maybe take her father away for a bit?

“No, Alice.” He wiped at the tears on his cheeks. “Why don’t we make a special box for these things, and put them under your bed where they’re safe. If I want to, I’ll come and have a look, how about that?”

“Can we paint the box?”

“What… you and me?”

“Yes, Mummy keeps the poster paints in the cupboard downstairs. You could help me.” Alice lay back down, propping herself up on her elbow. “Don’t you want to?”

Daddy put the photo back on the little pillow, folded the blanket up, and placed it at the end of the cot.

“Of course I do.” He sat at the end of her bed. “I think you and I might be spending a lot more time together.”

“You and me?” Alice said, sitting up and climbing over her covers to get closer to her father. She reached up to give him a cuddle. “You promise?”

“I promise.” He raised a hand with three fingers straight, the thumb and pinky folded in. “Boy scouts promise.”

“You were in the boy scouts?” Alice looked at him in wonder. “Did you stay in the woods at night and tell scary stories?”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes distant, “I suppose we did.”

“I’d like to go camping.”

“Well, school is nearly finished. We could go off for a couple of nights. Your mother and I use to camp sometimes, before you arrived. Everything should still be in the attic. Would you like that?”

“Can I take Bubbles?” Alice asked, bouncing on the mattress.

“I wouldn’t camp without Bubbles. Wouldn’t be safe.” He sat on the edge of her bed and smiled, his eyes remaining dark.

Alice giggled.

“You’ll be in year two soon,” Daddy said.

“And I’ll be a really big girl!”

“But not unless you get some sleep.” He put her back in her bed and tucked the covers around her. “Sleep tight angel.”

“I have an angel,” she said as she stifled a yawn.

“You do?”

“Yes, he watches me at night, when he thinks I’m asleep.”

“Oh.”

“He comes in through the window.”

Daddy stroked her forehead. “Night-night.”

“Night Daddy.”

Daddy went to the window, and rattled the frame, checked the lock, then walked to the door. “Sleep well.” He turned out the light and closed the door.

Alice started to drift into sleep watching the window. Her angel would be coming tomorrow night. She smiled, rolled over and fell asleep.