Alice's Long Road Home

by Rosie James

  ‘It is such a long time ago that we did this, Sam,’ she murmured. ‘It used to be when you came home on holiday from boarding school, wasn’t it, and you’d tell me everything that had been going on… I used to love listening to you explain everything that you were having to learn…it helped me to learn things as well,’ she added. ‘Your life sounded so exciting, so demanding… and so clever. Though I didn’t envy you the food they gave you to eat. By the sound of it, it was hardly comparable to Betty’s, was it!’

  ‘Most of it was vile,’ Sam said cheerfully, ‘or we all thought so at the time. But – I don’t suppose it was, really. You know how fussy kids can be.’ He looked down at her, pulling her in more closely to him. ‘All the time I was there, do you know the thing I looked forward to most? Having one of your letters – no, honestly, I mean it. Having letters when you’re away from home helps to keep you going, and yours certainly helped to keep me going, Alice. As soon as I saw your writing on the envelope I couldn’t wait to rush upstairs and read your letter in private. And it always made me smile because you had such a funny way of saying things.’

  ‘And I loved having yours,’ Alice said. ‘I used to just soak up everything you said, everything you wrote. I remember wishing that I could dress up as a boy and come to your school too!’

  He nodded. ‘You were certainly like a sponge, Alice…you always took in everything I told you, and I was constantly surprised at how you never forgot any of it. You were so anxious to learn, to be informed.’ He glanced down at her. ‘It was one of the many things I liked…admired…about you,’ he added.

  Alice didn’t return his gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed. She hadn’t realized that Sam had ever admired her…not in that way. They’d always liked each other, that was obvious, but any admiration had been one way, or so she’d thought.

  After a while they stopped walking, and stood to lean over the wall and look across at the suspension bridge: the scene, from a slightly different angle, which Alice had stared at from her bedroom window, all those years ago. And for a few seconds, she wished with all her heart that she could stop the clock. This really was like the old times, when she’d felt so relaxed, so happy, so confident, just being with Samuel Carmichael. But…wait…these new times were even more wonderful! Because the person she had always truly loved, had told her that he truly loved her! What could possibly spoil her peace of mind?

  She frowned briefly. When you asked that sort of question, you were likely to provoke an answer you weren’t expecting. Because who could guarantee a permanent peace of mind – especially in a relationship? Things change, people change and – although her love for Sam would never change – she had acquired another, a different, side to her own personality that she hadn’t expected. Perhaps Fay’s influence was to blame, but Alice liked the feeling that she could stand on her own feet, could make her way in the world that need not involve staying at home all day just cooking and keeping house like most women had always expected was their lot. Since the war things were different…

  Presently, Sam broke the silence – they’d hardly spoken for several minutes – ‘I had no idea that we were to be honoured by having the company of my brothers and sisters tonight,’ he said. ‘I only got back to Bristol myself this morning, and I haven’t seen my father yet today. But he clearly thought that my siblings should be here to congratulate me on my matrimonial choice…and to see you again, Alice. One good thing, there’ll hardly be any need for formal introductions,’ he added.

  ‘It will be lovely to see them all again,’ Alice said, remembering that the only recent times they had been together had been at Helena’s death bed, and at her December funeral and later memorial service.

  Sam cut in on her thoughts. ‘I’m sure that the girls will be longing to ask you all the details about the wedding,’ he said. ‘I believe that women enjoy that sort of thing. And you, of all people, know what Rose and Margaret are like. They’ll be bombarding you with questions so have your answers ready!’

  Alice shrank at the words. For a couple of hours she’d completely forgotten about the wedding and everything that went with it. She had been dwelling on the gentle past, and what she’d begun to view as the somewhat confused future… She cleared her throat.

  ‘Oh, I shall have some questions of my own to ask them,’ she said. ‘They are not very good at keeping in touch – and I’d like to know what they’re up to at the moment.’

  ‘Hmm, I think my father would like to know that as well,’ Sam said. ‘At twenty-two years old, with university behind them, they should have at least some idea of what they want to do. They were abroad with friends for part of last year, I do know that,’ he added.

  Presently, as they began strolling back – ‘Tell me about your afternoon with your friends…Fay and Eve,’ Sam said. ‘Did you have a good time?’

  Alice’s heart lifted at the words. ‘It was lovely,’ she said, ‘we always have such a fun time when we’re together. Fay is, well Fay is a rugged individual, shall we say, while Eve is the complete opposite. But our Evie had some wonderful things to tell us because her parents have come around to accepting her boyfriend – which she didn’t think would ever happen.’

  ‘Why not?’ Sam asked curiously.

  ‘Because he, Max, is a divorcee – or soon going to be,’ Alice said. ‘They don’t agree with divorce, you see.’

  Sam shrugged briefly. ‘Well, it’s not the most desirable thing, I suppose,’ he said, ‘but if it happens, it happens. Life can be unpredictable.’

  His remark didn’t surprise Alice. Sam was wise…a worldly-wise man. ‘And as for Fay – her news is that she’s learned to drive and bought herself a car,’ Alice went on. ‘She was quite excited about that, especially as it means she’s going to be able to take her mother and grandmother out for a little trip sometimes.’ Alice paused briefly. ‘She is very, very fond of them both,’ she added, ‘and actually lived with her grandmother for some years, because she and her father apparently never got on when she was at home.’ Alice looked up at Sam. ‘I cannot imagine not wanting to live with my parents, can you, Sam? When you were young? She was always going on about her father – said she hated him, and was always really rude about him which made us laugh, but which I thought was a shame…’ Alice didn’t go on. She’d had her own darling Papa for so few years of her life– he had died when she’d been ten years old – the thought of not wanting to live with him, not wanting to see him, seemed wicked and wrong.

  ‘Well, of course boarding school certainly causes some separation,’ Sam pointed out, ‘but the holidays soon come around, and knowing that my parents, the family, were all still there at home meant everything to me. And no, I can’t imagine not loving them.’ Then, after a moment – ‘I would really like to meet your friends,’ he said, ‘Fay and Evie…perhaps you could try and arrange something and I’ll do my best to fit in?’

  Alice nodded. She couldn’t wait to introduce Sam to her two best friends. ‘As a matter of fact, we’re all going to be together next weekend,’ she said, glancing up at him, ‘because we’ve been asked to a party at the farm…it’ll be the first time we’ve been there since we were demobbed…but it’s Mrs. Foulkes’ birthday on Saturday and Roger – that’s their son – wants us to be there as a surprise.’ Alice smiled. ‘And of course Fay is going to drive us in her car… I hope we don’t get lost!’

  ‘Well, I’d certainly like to meet Fay and Eve before the wedding,’ Sam said, ‘and we must discuss the guest list soon, so that we can start thinking about reception venues.’

  Alice glanced away briefly. If she was honest, what she would really like was for her wedding to Sam to be a quiet event, perhaps in a small country church somewhere, where no one knew them, and where it wouldn’t matter what her dress looked like. And if, God help her, she later turned out not to be the best wife for Samuel Carmichael after all, a quiet, simple wedding would barely be remembered for tongues to wag and gossip about afterwards…unlike a splashy, St.
Mary Redcliffe affair.

  Alice almost choked on those dreadful thoughts. Her wedding was months away, and here she was imagining the worst possible scenario even before it had happened! But she knew that part of this she could put down to reading constant news reportage of the current divorce rate, which had soared to unbelievable heights since the end of the war. The country’s freedom seemed to have given its people the desire to be free from all other restraints, the desire to look for other partners, unashamedly betraying their vows. It seemed that Holy Matrimony was no longer the thing it used to be – so what if that happened to her, and Sam discovered that she was not, after all, the one for him? What if they had set too much store on the past, on their letters to each other? Could she ever be, would she ever really, really feel herself Mrs. Carmichael of Clifton?

  Rather than Miss Alice Watts of the second floor?

  Despite all her underlying anxieties, Alice couldn’t stop herself enjoying her surroundings later as she sat beside Sam in the dining room. As usual, Edward Carmichael was at the head of the table, ready to carve the roasted ducklings which Betty had just brought in from the kitchen, and with all four of the twins there too, laughing and talking and teasing each other, there was a tangible party atmosphere. Although none of the twins was identical, their likenesses were undeniable. The boys had dark, almost jet-black hair like the professor’s, and both were tall and well-built, while Rose and Margaret were quite short and dainty, their fair hair falling in long natural waves, their permanently pleasant expressions so reminiscent of Helena’s.

  Margaret looked across the table at Alice. ‘So, are there going to be hundreds of guests at this wedding of the century?’ she said. ‘I imagine that you have masses of friends you’ll want to invite, Alice.’

  Alice shook her head quickly. ‘Not masses, no,’ she said, counting quickly in her head. ‘No more than…twenty, or so…I should think.’ (Could she even manage to think of twenty?)

  ‘Oh well, Sam will make up for that, no doubt,’ Margaret said. ‘Still, we might as well make it a good one while we’re about it. And think of the presents you’ll be given!’ She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. ‘And I suppose you’ll be asking us to be your bridesmaids? Well, if so, all I ask is that my dress is not pink and frilly. I don’t care what colour you choose as long as it’s not pink. Or frilly.’

  Alice tried to look unsurprised at the remark – but she honestly hadn’t thought about who she might ask to be her bridesmaids…though of course, apart from Fay and Evie, it would be natural to ask Sam’s sisters, especially as Alice had been their nanny. She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. ‘Of course I would love you to be my bridesmaids,’ she said firmly, as if there had never been any doubt, ‘and don’t worry – I won’t expect you to wear anything pink, Margaret.’ Margaret had always been the tomboy of the family.

  ‘I quite like pink,’ Rose said.

  ‘It doesn’t really matter what either of you like,’ the professor said, looking at them quizzically, ‘or indeed who she would like to be her bridesmaids, because from what I am led to believe, things like that are entirely the wishes of the bride. So’ – he frowned at his daughters sternly – ‘do not attempt to bully Alice into anything she does not want. This is her wedding, not yours.’

  Well, Alice thought, that’s one thing settled. I’m having at least two bridesmaids I hadn’t even thought about, and they won’t be wearing pink.

  The professor glanced over at Alice, clearing his throat. ‘Sam and I have had one or two words regarding the reception, Alice,’ he said, ‘and we were wondering if you would like us to arrange that part of things? I know one or two venues which might be suitable – and as you’re no longer living locally, it might be rather a burden for you to be thinking about that yourself.’

  Alice nodded, relieved. ‘Oh yes…thank you, Professor,’ she said. ‘I would be so grateful if you’d make that decision for me.’ She looked away for a moment. Would there ever come a time when she didn’t call Sam’s father “Professor”? The name she and her mother had always used – as all the staff had. The name she was comfortable with. But once she was Sam’s wife, it would be different – wouldn’t it? What on earth should she call Edward then? She could never call him Papa, like she’d always addressed her father. There was only one man in her life who would ever be that. Alice took another sip from her glass. Every thought that crossed her mind seemed full of imponderables.

  By now, as they all watched Edward begin to carve the ducklings, Rose said –

  ‘Have you given in your notice to the firm yet, Alice? From everything we’ve heard they’re going to miss you, aren’t they?’

  Alice coloured up. She didn’t want to talk about that, because she would have to mention the fact that once she left, she’d be homeless…and she knew very well that she would be expected to come and live here, in Clifton, before the wedding. But Alice was determined she was not going to do that. This was still Sam’s home, not hers. Somehow or other, she would find something, somewhere to lay her head, until she was married.

  ‘No, I haven’t told my company yet,’ she said, glancing over at Rose. ‘There’s plenty of time. I shall certainly have to stay and help my replacement learn the ropes,’ she added, ‘so I expect to be in Dorchester for the foreseeable future.’

  ‘But I wonder where you will live once you’re married,’ Rose went on. ‘Do you expect to be in London next year, Sam?’

  ‘No idea,’ Sam replied, as if the question was unimportant. ‘But whereever I’m sent, I can assure you that I shall find a suitable home for my wife.’

  ‘Well, I wish you the best of luck with that,’ Margaret said. ‘The housing shortage is terrible since the war…there are squatters everywhere…homeless people taking over anything they can get their hands and feet on.’

  Sam winked across at his sister. ‘Don’t worry about us, Margaret,’ he said. ‘Alice and I will not be squatting anywhere, I promise you that.’

  Margaret was in a teasing mood. ‘Well, the very least you might have to do is to share with others, Sam… I mean…share accommodation. Take your turn in the bathroom, things like that.’ She looked up at the ceiling for more inspiration. Then – ‘Or why not apply for one of the pre-fabs everyone’s talking about? They’re really practical and cosy, so I’ve been told. Still – if “make do and mend” is one of the slogans, “shut up and share” should apply as well, shouldn’t it?’

  ‘And I think you should shut up, too, now, Margaret,’ Sam said easily, beginning to pass the plates of duckling along the table. ‘This is not a weekend for negative thoughts.’

  ‘Look, it’s almost two years since the war ended,’ Margaret went on, completely ignoring her brother’s remark, ‘and we’re still on rationing! And now, would you believe it, bread is now on coupons, as well! Bread! One of the few things that were never rationed during the war.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘The fact is, the country’s broke, flat broke,’ she said, ‘and we might as well accept it.’

  Changing the subject, David said, ‘So, Dad…what do you make of old Nye Bevan’s National Health Service? Do you think it’ll work?’

  Edward didn’t look up from what he was doing. ‘We shall just have to see,’ he said. ‘One has to applaud the principle that there will be free treatment for all – rich or poor – at the point of need. Don’t you agree?’ He looked up briefly. ‘Of course there has always been a health service for those who couldn’t afford to pay, but they had to go and ask for it. And people are proud. Many refused to go with the begging bowl, and just suffered in silence, putting up with all their aches and pains.’ He finished carving and sat down, glancing along the table at his children. ‘I’m afraid the general feeling is that when this does all take place next year, the flood gates will open and the work load will significantly increase. Still,’ he shrugged, ‘I am not a politician. I am one of the foot soldiers, and I will go on as usual, doing what I know I do best. And I am still, apparently
, allowed my private patients,’ he added.

  As Alice watched Betty bustling in and out, bringing in the vegetable dishes, she half-stood to go and help her. She, and her mother had always helped out when necessary, and even tonight on this rather special family occasion, Alice felt guilty at just sitting here waiting to be served. But Sam touched her arm.

  ‘Don’t spoil it for her,’ he said quietly, nodding in Betty’s direction, ‘she’s in her element doing all this for us. She doesn’t get the chance so often these days.’ He paused, adding quietly, ‘And just look at my father… I can see he’s happy…really happy tonight. Happy we’re all here, happy that you’re here, Alice…his sense of loss is still acute…he finds it so hard to accept my mother’s absence…so hard to be here alone.’

  With their meat served, everyone began to enjoy their meal. And although Edward and Sam had tried to persuade Betty to sit and eat hers with them as well – on this very special family occasion – she had refused, insisting there were still things to attend to in the kitchen, but that she would eat the dessert with them later. And, Alice thought, it must largely be only the professor who normally Betty had to cater for now, with perhaps an occasional guest that he might invite. Or maybe one or other of the twins might decide to come home for a good meal sometimes…all four of them had got their degrees at Bristol University so had been local then, but now David and John were in London studying to be lawyers, while Rose and Margaret seemed to be having a rather nice time doing nothing in particular as far as Alice could make out. Though both had, apparently, been earning some pocket money helping one of their university friends start a restaurant somewhere up north. When Alice learned of all this, she’d quietly marvelled at the difference in her lifestyle and theirs. It would have been unthinkable not to find a job and earn her own living. Not to be responsible for herself, not to pay her own way. But that had been, and always would be, the difference in her status and theirs. The difference between the rich and the poor. Even though the professor had worked tirelessly at the Infirmary for most of his life, he had come from a moneyed background, had had a privileged education. Now Sam was having the same experience – the only one to follow his father into the medical profession. The Carmichaels had never known poverty – which was why Helena had spent so much time with her charities for the under-privileged. Alice would never forget the generous food parcels, the treats and delicacies and comforts Helena often sent down to the Hotwells folk – especially at Christmas time. Hotwells was where Alice had lived with her parents before Alice and her mother had moved to live in Clifton. And after Ada’s sudden and unexpected death, Alice became nanny to the children when she’d been just fourteen years old. Ada, and Alice, had always been treated as members of the family, and had never stopped being grateful for it.