Don't Ask Alice

by Judi Curtin

  ‘Well,’ said Linda eventually. ‘Are you going to tell your mum about my new friend in Dublin?’

  I shook my head, and Linda came over and hugged me.

  ‘That’s my girl,’ she said. ‘You won’t tell and I won’t tell. Let’s call it quits.’

  * * *

  Half an hour later, I heard a car outside in the driveway.

  Seconds later Mum raced into the house like she was being chased by a pack of mad dogs. She grabbed Rosie and hugged her so tightly I was sure Rosie wouldn’t be able to breathe. Then she showered her with huge sloppy kisses.

  ‘My little baby,’ she said. ‘My poor, sweet, little baby. Did you miss Mummy and Daddy?’

  Rosie didn’t answer – she was too busy struggling to breathe. I smiled to myself. I was sure Rosie hadn’t missed Mum and Dad one tiny bit – she’d been having too much fun, watching TV and eating foods she wasn’t usually allowed.

  Finally Mum released Rosie, and came rushing over to me. Luckily I was ready for her, so I managed to escape after only one hug and five or six noisy kisses.

  ‘Well, Megan,’ she said as I wriggled away. ‘How was your weekend? Did you behave yourself for Linda?’

  I could feel my face going red, and I looked at Linda.

  Linda smiled at me.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she told Mum. ‘Megan is a great girl, and she was as good as gold all the time you were gone.’

  Mum smiled too.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she said.

  Just then Dad came in carrying what looked like enough camping stuff to keep a very large army going for about six months. His face was pale, his hair was greasy and he looked like he hadn’t slept for the whole weekend.

  ‘Hi girls,’ he said. ‘Where’s my bed? Show me my bed, and I’ll lie in it for the rest of the day.’

  Linda laughed.

  ‘Didn’t you sleep well in Galway?’

  Dad shook his head.

  ‘Fat chance,’ he said. ‘Have you ever tried sleeping on a bed of rocks? Trust me, it’s not comfortable. And I haven’t had a shower since I left here. I—’

  Mum interrupted him.

  ‘That’s your own fault,’ she said. ‘There was a shower there.’

  Dad gave a scary kind of laugh.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘One shower, between hundreds of people. And it was cold. In my opinion, that’s taking concern for the environment one step too far. Anyway, I’ve made up my mind – I’m never, ever, ever going camping again. I’m too old for that kind of stuff.’

  Mum gave him a playful push.

  ‘You’re nothing but a big softy,’ she said. ‘And I’ve got some bad news for you. We’re going to the Foggy Mountain festival every year from now on. It’s going to be my annual treat.’

  Dad went even paler. ‘But the children… .’

  Linda interrupted.

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll mind Rosie and Megan. Same time next year. We’re looking forward to it already, aren’t we girls?’

  I grabbed Rosie and we danced around the kitchen. Luckily Mum didn’t stop to wonder why we were so happy – she was too busy rummaging in her handbag.

  ‘Look girls,’ she said. ‘I brought you back some treats. Who’d like some organic breadsticks?’

  I sighed. It looked like the party was over.

  Mum asked Linda to stay for tea, but for some reason Linda didn’t seem tempted by the lentil stew and spinach that Mum was offering.

  ‘Thanks, Sheila,’ she said. ‘But no thanks. I need to get back. I’m meeting … well, I’m busy.’

  As she spoke, she gave me a big wink. I winked back, grinning to myself.

  In spite of Alice’s crazy plan, it had been a great weekend.

  Chapter twenty-six

  A few weeks later, Alice came up with a very elaborate plan for a trick we could play on Melissa. It involved lots of phone calls, secret meetings, bags of flour, and water balloons. It was quite a good plan actually (considering Alice had come up with it), but we never got around to carrying it out. We never seemed to find the time.

  You see, by this time, we were all getting very excited about going to secondary school. Most of the class were going to move on to the school that was just up the road from our primary school. The twins, Ellen and Emma, were repeating sixth class, and Melissa was going to go to a posh boarding school in Dublin.

  At the beginning of the year, Melissa used to bore us all to death bragging about how fancy her new school was going to be.

  ‘All the famous people send their kids there,’ she used to say. ‘Pop-stars, actors – everyone who matters really. It’s so expensive, ordinary people just can’t afford it. And it’s got this totally fantastic swimming pool. We get to use it every day after school, so I’m glad I’ve been going to swimming lessons since I was three. At Easter we all get to go to France on an exchange trip, and we …’

  On and on and on she went every day until we all felt like we’d throw up if we heard one more word about it.

  Now, as the summer holidays approached, Melissa began to talk less and less about her fancy boarding school.

  Alice was the first to notice. She mentioned it one day at break-time.

  ‘Anyone hear anything lately about the best boarding school in Ireland?’ she asked.

  Grace, Louise and I shook our heads.

  ‘Melissa hasn’t said anything about it in weeks,’ said Grace. ‘I wonder why?’

  ‘I bet she’s sorry now,’ said Alice.

  ‘But why?’ asked Louise. ‘According to Melissa, that school is the greatest place since Malory Towers.’

  Alice shrugged.

  ‘I’m not exactly an expert on what makes Melissa tick, but my guess is, she’s nervous about going somewhere new on her own. I bet she wishes she was moving on to the local school in September, just like the rest of us.’

  I shook my head.

  ‘No way. It’s probably just that she thinks she’s too good for the rest of us now.’

  I was wrong though.

  A few days later, I went into the toilets at lunchtime and found Melissa sitting on the floor sobbing. Even though it was Melissa, my worst enemy in the whole world, I couldn’t just walk away, pretending I hadn’t seen her. Before I knew what I was doing, I went over to her and asked,

  ‘What’s wrong?’, almost like I really cared.

  At first Melissa didn’t answer, and I felt a bit stupid for even thinking that she might be human. I decided that maybe she had broken one of her precious fingernails, or perhaps she’d found a split-end in her beautiful golden hair.

  Then Melissa looked up at me, and her face was all pale and crumpled-up looking.

  ‘I’m so afraid,’ she said.

  ‘Of what?’ I asked. I’d always thought that mean people like Melissa were never afraid of anything.

  ‘Of going away to boarding school,’ sobbed Melissa.

  At first I didn’t know what to say. I had a funny feeling that if I was the one crying, Melissa would have run outside to tell all her friends and have a good laugh at how pathetic I was. I couldn’t do that to her, though. For the first time ever, I actually felt a little bit sorry for her.

  I sat down beside Melissa, because it seemed like the right thing to do. I thought about putting my hand on her shoulder, but that seemed a bit too much, so I put it into my pocket instead.

  ‘But you wanted to go to boarding school,’ I said. ‘You told everyone that you begged your parents to let you go.’

  Melissa sobbed even harder.

  ‘I know I did. But now I’ve changed my mind, and my parents say I have to go anyway. They’ve paid the deposit, and booked me in, and so I have to go. And I’m going to be so lonely there. All my friends will be having soooo much fun here together, and I’m going to be far away, on my own.’

  ‘But you’ll make new friends.’

  I wondered if this was true. Melissa did have friends in our class, but every year she seemed to have fewer friends than
the year before. Once even Grace and Louise used to be part of her gang, but now they couldn’t stand her. And maybe in secondary school, there wouldn’t be so many girls who would be fooled by Melissa’s fancy clothes and her pretty face. Maybe they would be clever enough to see right through her to the mean person inside.

  Maybe there was a way of telling Melissa to be a nicer person, without hurting her feelings, but I couldn’t think of the right words. So I just stood up, and spoke quickly like Mum does when she’s trying to distract Rosie after a fall.

  ‘Come on,’ I said. ‘You should wash your face before anyone else comes in. And don’t worry. September is ages away. When the time comes, you’ll be so excited about the pool, and the hockey pitch with the super-modern surface, you’ll soon forget all about us.’

  Melissa stood up slowly, and fixed her hair. I pulled a hard, bleach-free, recycled tissue from my pocket. I held it in my hand for a second, knowing that Melissa was only used to pretty, pink, scented tissues.

  Would she take the opportunity to mock me, one more time?

  Suddenly I realised I didn’t care whether Melissa mocked me or not. I wondered why I used to be so afraid of her, always worried about what she’d think about me and my family. Why did her opinion matter so much?

  I held the tissue towards her.

  ‘Here,’ I said. ‘Use this.’

  Melissa hesitated for just one second, then she took the tissue, and used it to wipe her eyes. Then she washed her face and followed me outside.

  ‘Thanks, Megan,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve been really nice.’

  I shrugged.

  ‘It’s OK,’ I said.

  Melissa began to walk slowly over to her friends. As she got closer to them, she began to walk faster, in her usual confident way, and by the time she reached them, she was tossing her hair, just like everything in her world was perfect.

  I couldn’t wait to find Alice, so I could tell her what had happened.

  ‘Hmm,’ she said when I’d finished my story. ‘Sounds like our Melissa is human after all.’

  I laughed.

  ‘Who would have thought it?’ I said.

  Alice laughed too, then she stopped and put her hand over her mouth.

  ‘Maybe we shouldn’t laugh at her. Sounds like the poor thing was really upset.’

  I nodded.

  ‘She was.’

  ‘And maybe it’s not her fault that she’s so horrible all the time. Maybe her parents never taught her how to be nice.’

  I nodded again.

  ‘Yeah, maybe she can’t help herself.’

  Then I had a really horrible thought.

  ‘Does this mean we have to like Melissa from now on?’ I asked.

  Alice thought for a minute, then she shook her head.

  ‘Nah. Liking Melissa is a bit too hard. How ’bout we just don’t hate her as much any more?’

  I grinned.

  ‘That sounds just about right. Now let’s go.

  There’s only five minutes of lunchtime left, and remember Miss O’Herlihy has promised us a maths test. It’s long division, your favourite.’

  ‘Yuck,’ groaned Alice. ‘I can’t wait for the summer holidays.’

  Chapter twenty-seven

  A few weeks later, we had our sixth-class graduation ceremony. It was totally brilliant.

  The whole school came to watch, and so did our parents and smaller brothers and sisters. Most of us wore our Confirmation clothes. Melissa, of course, had to be different.

  ‘Look at her,’ said Alice as soon as she saw her. ‘That dress is even uglier than the one she had for her Confirmation. I didn’t think that was possible. Where on earth did she find it?’

  I put on a posh voice.

  ‘A veeery fancy designer store in Paris. She––’

  Suddenly Alice put up her hand to stop me. ‘We forgot,’ she said.

  ‘We’re supposed to feel sorry for Melissa. We’re not supposed to mock her any more, remember?’

  I sighed. It’s very hard to stop hating someone when you’ve been doing it for almost eight years.

  Just then, Melissa walked by, wobbling on her very high heels. I smiled at her, and Alice even managed to say,

  ‘You look lovely Melissa,’ without smirking or laughing or anything.

  At eleven o’clock, we all went into the hall, and it took ages for everyone to settle down. The infants looked tiny, all sitting cross-legged on the floor. I couldn’t remember Alice and me ever being that small. Next year, Rosie would be sitting there, and I was kind of sorry that I wouldn’t be there to see it.

  At last, when everyone was quiet, the principal made a big, long speech.

  ‘I have to say that this sixth class is a credit to the school,’ she said after loads of other boring stuff. ‘I really cannot remember a sixth class as talented and wonderful as you boys and girls.’

  Everyone clapped and cheered and pretended not to remember that the principal had said the same thing about every sixth class since we were in junior infants.

  When she finally sat down, we got to play our tin whistles. (I even managed ‘Edelweiss’ without a single mistake.) We played for ages, until the juniors were jiggling around from boredom.

  After that we all had to stand up in turn and tell everyone what our special memory of the school was. Most of the boys remembered gross stuff like kids wetting themselves or getting sick, but luckily no one mentioned the trip to Fota Island. (Maybe Miss O’Herlihy had warned them when Alice and I weren’t there.)

  Alice’s memory was of when we were in first class, and she knocked over three jars of paint, and I stayed with her all through lunchtime to help her clean up the mess. I was glad she picked a memory that included me, even though I couldn’t remember that day at all.

  My memory was much more recent. I said how happy I was on Alice’s first day back at school after eight months in Dublin.

  The last part of the ceremony was the song we had been practising for weeks. It was all about friends. When we got to the bit about friends always being there for each other, Alice grabbed my hand and squeezed it until it really hurt.

  We sang the chorus about fifty times, and by the time we were finished most of us were crying. Mostly it was happy-sad kind of tears, but poor Melissa was sobbing like she really meant it. Alice went over and gave her a hug, and Melissa got such a fright she stopped crying.

  Afterwards everyone had drinks and cake and then it was time to go. Our whole class was going bowling and then on to the cinema. Alice and I went over to say good-bye to my parents. My mum had red puffy eyes. I should have known she’d be the only totally embarrassing mum who would start crying. I told her I was leaving with the others. Mum grabbed me and hugged me tight like I was leaving for the other end of the earth, instead of for the bowling alley five minutes up the road.

  ‘My little girl,’ she said. ‘Where on earth did all those years go? It only seems like five minutes since you started here.’

  Luckily Rosie pushed in between us saying,

  ‘I’m your little girl! Megan’s a big girl now.’

  Mum smiled and took Rosie up in her arms, and it looked like everything was going to be all right. Just then Miss O’Herlihy came over and said,

  ‘Mr and Mrs Sheehan. You should be proud of Megan. She’s a great girl.’

  That was enough to start Mum crying again. She stood still like she was going to wait until her tears were making a huge puddle around her feet. I wondered if the school had a safety policy for evacuating the school if it gets flooded by tears.

  Luckily Dad stepped in and saved me from total embarrassment. He put his arm around Mum and said,

  ‘Come on, you soppy old thing. Let’s go home and have a nice cup of tea.’

  So they went off arm in arm, and it wasn’t that embarrassing at all – as long as you didn’t look too closely.

  Then we went to say goodbye to Alice’s parents. They were standing in a corner discussing where Jamie and Alice were g
oing to stay that night. They both hugged Alice, and then they went off in different directions, like they hardly knew each other. Suddenly my parents didn’t embarrass me after all. Watching Peter and Veronica was worse – much, much worse.

  Alice and I watched them until they were gone. Then I turned to her. ‘You OK?’

  She nodded.

  ‘It’s not perfect, but it’s OK.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ I asked.

  She nodded again.

  ‘Sure I’m sure. This is the way my life is going to be from now on. It’s taken a while, but at last I’m fine with this.’

  I smiled at her. ‘I’m not trying to be mean, Alice,’ I said. ‘But you’ve said that once or twice before.’

  She looked at me with her eyes wide open.

  ‘Once or twice?’ she said.

  ‘OK,’ I laughed. ‘I was trying to be nice. The truth is, you’ve said it lots and lots of times.’

  Alice smiled.

  ‘I was just saying it all those other times. You know, like if I said it often enough, I might end up actually believing it. But I always had a secret hope that Mum and Dad would try again.’

  ‘And now? I asked.

  Alice didn’t say anything for a minute. Then she spoke very quietly.

  ‘Now I know it’s over between them forever,’ she said. ‘Now I’m ready to move on.’

  For the first time ever, I really, really believed her.

  I hugged her.

  ‘I am so, so glad for you.’

  She hugged me back. ‘Trust me. I’m glad too.’

  ‘So no more plotting and scheming?’

  She pulled away from me and made a face.

  ‘Hey, I’m just OK with the Mum and Dad thing. I’m not promising anything else. Remember, life’s no fun if you don’t have secret plans.’

  I nodded slowly. ‘Yeah. Whatever.’

  Then Alice grabbed my arm.

  ‘Now, come on, or we’ll be late for the bowling.’

  So I waved goodbye to my old school forever, and I ran out on to the street after my very best friend.