Alice's Long Road Home

by Rosie James

  Just then, Sam and Alice came over to join them, bringing Don and Gloria – and Dora – across to be introduced to everyone. And Alice said, slipping her arm through Gloria’s –

  ‘And this is Mrs. Travers…my landlady in Bristol, who gave me the best home I could possibly have wanted when I needed it most.’ Alice paused. ‘And you will have already been aware of Mr. Travers’s essential part in my wedding day,’ she said quickly. ‘I…I could not possibly have managed without either of them.’

  At that point, Rose and Margaret joined the group – who were by now all standing up and chatting as if they’d all known each other for years – and then Max and Eve appeared alongside them as well so that all the dresses were admired again, everyone saying they’d never seen such a display of beauty and elegance…despite all the post-war shortages the country was suffering.

  Dora hadn’t had the chance to speak to Alice yet, not properly, but now she drew her aside briefly, and hugged her. ‘I was very relieved, Alice, when we got past that point in the service,’ Dora said. ‘You know, the “just cause or impediment why these two should not be coupled together” – that bit – I was thinking about the “delay” I saw in the tea leaves in your cup the other day.’ She shook her head solemnly. ‘It was so clear I couldn’t ignore it.’ She shrugged. ‘But anyway, no one stood up and put a spanner in the works, did they, Alice?’ Dora sounded genuinely relieved, and Alice squeezed her arm. An eccentric she may be, but Dora meant no harm.

  Despite the fact that her own precious parents were not there in person, Alice could not deny the feeling that they were both present – and as happy for her as they could possibly be. And she recalled how she’d felt when walking slowly down the aisle that morning with Don Travers beside her, his reassuring presence supporting her, that extra, firm little squeeze he’d given her hand just before he’d let her go to stand next to Sam. That is exactly what Stanley Watts would have done when “giving” his daughter away to another man’s love and protection. And at that particular moment, Alice had truly felt her Papa’s nearness…

  Almost making her jump, and interrupting her thoughts for a moment, Alice felt Edward Carmichael’s hand lightly on her waist, and she turned quickly, looking up at him. He was so impressive in his morning suit…handsome and impressive. And Alice remembered the time when as a child, she had secretly watched the professor and his wife leave the house in full evening dress to go to one of the many occasions they’d had to attend. To Alice they had been the perfect glittering, golden couple: Helena and Edward Carmichael. And Alice’s heart missed a beat. What about Samuel and Alice Carmichael…?

  ‘My dear Alice,’ Edward’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘My dear daughter…’ He hesitated for a second. ‘I cannot think of you as my daughter-in-law, even though that is what you are,’ he said, ‘because you have always been like our daughter. One of us.’ He smiled at Alice. ‘But now it is fact. And I am so happy, and I know that my wife is happy too.’ He paused. ‘This is a tremendous day for the Carmichael family,’ he added.

  Alice couldn’t help noticing the moistness in Edward’s eyes as he spoke, and she had to swallow quickly not to break down – she’d managed to hold back her tears throughout the day so far. She took hold of both his hands. ‘I will do my best for Sam – for all of you…for all of us,’ she amended quickly. ‘I really will.’

  As if on cue, David and John joined them – breaking into the rather serious few moments for Alice and Edward – the twins making their usual ribald comments and demanding when Father Christmas was going to arrive with their presents.

  And now waiters arrived with trolleys bearing tea and a large supply of cakes to sustain everyone before they went home – and although every guest exclaimed that they couldn’t possibly eat another thing – what? After that wonderful meal they’d already enjoyed?– half an hour later all the plates were cleared, and not a drop of tea was left in any pot.

  Then, at last, the guests all began making their way slowly outside, where cars were waiting to transport everyone back to Bristol. And the bride and groom, and all the Carmichael family were there in strength to wave each one off, before they themselves were driven away.

  The day she had never thought would happen, was at an end.

  Alice’s wedding day was over.

  At midnight on the 23rd December 1947, Samuel Carmichael escorted his new wife up the front stairs to their newly refurbished master bedroom. Another Mrs. Carmichael was now in residence at Clifton.

  In the bathroom adjoining their bedroom, Alice slipped carefully out of her wedding dress – she had long since taken off the veil –put it on a hanger and hooked it up on the dado rail. Then she unpinned her hair, running her fingers through the long, silky waves with a sense of relief. She stared at herself in the mirror for several moments. It had been the most joyous occasion in her entire life, but all the excitement, all the enthusiasm, all the emotion had left her feeling tired and slightly drained. And now it was over, and it was with mixed feelings that Alice thought of the road ahead. Of her long road ahead. Not that she had a single mixed feeling about her and Sam – her Samuel – of course not – but she admitted to a niggling doubt about herself, and her new position in this family. Because in spite of today, in spite of everything which had passed between her and Sam, nothing could change the fact that she had once been a paid member of the Carmichaels’ staff. An employee. Now, she was the wife of the senior son…that coveted position, giving her automatic status in the hierarchy. She bit her lip thoughtfully. Even if she could do everything that would be expected of her, and get it all right, was she ever going to be comfortable in the role? As comfortable, as confident, as she had been in her other lives?

  And at this precise moment, Alice thought the answer was probably no, because she’d had no training for this new one.

  She finished getting ready for bed, brushing out her hair so that it fell carelessly around her shoulders, then went into the bedroom – which had been so attractively redecorated and refurnished that it looked completely different from the place it had once been. Sam was already lying stretched out on his back, his hands behind his head, and he turned to gaze at her as she moved towards him.

  ‘My beautiful wife,’ he murmured slowly. Then – ‘You look as wonderful as you did in your bridal gown,’ he added.

  Alice smiled, hesitating for a moment, and he held out his hand for her to join him. And she did, sliding into bed and snuggling against him, feeling his warm body against hers. She rested her head into his neck and gave a long, deep sigh, and for a long time they just remained there in silence. Then –

  ‘I have a terrible confession to make to you,’ Sam began quietly, and at once Alice turned to look up into his eyes. A confession…? What sort of confession does a groom make to his bride on their wedding night? What could be so terrible that she didn’t already know about?

  After a few seconds, he went on – ‘Do you remember me writing to you once, confessing something which I couldn’t tell anyone else about? Not even my parents? It was pretty much at the beginning of the war.’

  Alice frowned, then her expression cleared. Well, she had never forgotten anything from Sam’s letters. ‘Oh, you mean when you thought you were being a coward…seeing all that terrible suffering and nearly breaking down?’ she said.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, that.’ He paused. ‘Because, when I half-turned to watch you coming towards me at the altar, I almost lost it, Alice, I honestly did. I was so choked. Because you were…you were a complete vision of such utter perfection I hardly knew how to hold it together…so I kept repeating to myself – coward, coward, coward…’

  She reached over to put her arm around his waist. ‘I told you then, and I’ll tell you now,’ she said, ‘I don’t know any cowards.’

  The high -ceilinged, dimly lit room was an oasis of calm and serenity as they lay locked together, and after a while, Sam murmured –

  ‘We haven’t actually had the chance to say muc
h to each other today, have we – because there were so many other people getting in the way all the time. I hardly had you to myself for a second!’ He held her closer. ‘So – thank you, darling Alice, for all that you did towards the planning and arranging of everything… I’m sure Princess Elizabeth’s wedding couldn’t have gone as smoothly as ours.’

  Alice turned to look up into his eyes. ‘You – and the professor – made everything so easy for me,’ she said quietly. (And Mrs. Miles, and Mr. Pennington, and Fay and Evie and Gloria and Don, all my wonderful family of friends who were there beside me all the way…)

  ‘I’m glad that my sisters didn’t let the side down,’ Sam went on. ‘In fact, I thought they looked pretty good alongside Fay and Evie. And behaved themselves,’ he added, as if he was surprised at the fact. Sam had often been a bit dismissive of his siblings. ‘And Margaret got her way about not having to wear anything pink and frilly, anyway,’ he said. He kissed the top of Alice’s head. ‘How did you manage to find all the dresses, by the way? Everyone knows how hard it is to buy decent stuff.’

  ‘Oh, I’ll tell you one day,’ Alice said. Then – ‘I really enjoyed meeting all your friends, Sam,’ she said. ‘Your best man – Ben – is so nice, isn’t he…we managed to have quite a long chat. He assured me that I’ve married a decent bloke and I replied that I sincerely hoped so.’

  They remained there quite still for several minutes, letting the memories of the day wash over them, revelling in relief that it had been so wonderful for everyone, not just for them. And that now, at last, they were Sam and Alice Carmichael. They were no longer just two people. They were a pair. In their own hearts, and in the eyes of the law.

  Then – ‘So – that’s the first part over for us,’ Sam said. ‘The only thing left is the future, I mean – for me, it’s just the little matter of completing my studies and becoming fully qualified. There’s still a while to go before that happens.’ he added. Then – ‘And all you have to do is to be my obedient wife…’ he smiled down at her – ‘you did vow to obey me, remember! And finish your novel, of course, and… Oh yes, I nearly forgot…produce lots of babies to fill whichever house we happen to be living in. That’s all. Not too much to ask, is it?’

  He half-sat up, leaning on his elbow for a moment, and looked down at her. ‘Are you very tired?’ he murmured.

  ‘Not too tired,’ Alice whispered.

  And Sam was strong. Thoughtful, tender, passionate… Sam was beautiful…

  And Alice, too, was beautiful.

  Beautiful for him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  30th January 1948

  Chelsea.

  Dear Fay

  This is the first letter I’ve written, to anyone, since becoming a married woman – I hope that noble status hasn’t put me off my stroke! Of course, I know I could have rung you at home, but I’d always much rather write because it allows me more time to stop and think about what I want to say.

  Of course, first and foremost, I want to thank you again for being with me on the long run up to my wedding, and on my special day. It gave me such confidence knowing that you and Evie were standing just a few feet away. And everyone – everyone! – kept saying how wonderful you looked. God bless Evie’s mother! And Rose and Margaret’s dresses fitted in so well, too, didn’t they?

  I did enjoy meeting your mum and gran, and I hope you all had a good Christmas, Fay. Considering that Sam’s mother had passed away almost exactly a year before, we all managed to create an appropriately festive atmosphere at Clifton. All the family were there, plus one or two others, and of course dear Betty (with a little additional outside help this time) provided the usual banquet for us all.

  The day after Boxing Day, both sets of twins left Bristol – David and John back to London, and Rose and Margaret to somewhere in north Wales where they’re helping a friend set up a business of some sort…as usual, it’s all “up in the air” where those two are concerned so we shall have to wait and see. I think the professor has given up hope of them ever settling down, but I understand that he has insisted they support themselves financially in the meantime. Sam just raises his eyes every time we talk about his sisters!

  Our honeymoon was just perfect, Fay – as you might expect! After Clifton, we went straight to London and stayed at a very posh hotel for a few days… I have never had that experience before, nor of having my breakfast served to me and then being able to walk away without washing up the dishes. (Actually, when I think about it, that’s exactly what happened at Home Farm, wasn’t it…but without any swanky waiters hovering around us all the time!)

  On the second evening we went to the theatre to see “Oklahoma”. Oh Fay…it was so good! Glamorous and exciting. We were sitting in the best seats in the stalls – in fact we were nearly on the stage! And those melodies! Those lovely songs! I haven’t stopped humming them under my breath since. Perhaps you and Evie could come and visit me one day, and we could all go and see the show together. I would love to see it all over again.

  The last part of our honeymoon was to Cornwall. The Carmichaels are very fond of Cornwall – we all used to go there for several weeks in the summer holidays. Sam had rented a lovely little cottage for us for a few days, and although it was quite remote it only took us half an hour to walk to the cliff top where we could wander along and breathe in all that wonderful sea air. The weather was surprisingly mild – and dry – which, when you think of the horrendous conditions we all had to put up with at the same time last year – was so lucky. Each time we got back to the cottage we felt refreshed and invigorated – and guess what? Sam cooked supper for us every evening! That did surprise me, but I suppose being away from home for so much of his life he has learned how to provide for himself…his scrambled eggs on toast were particularly good! And, with a little advice from me, he did roast a chicken one evening. But he was so sweet. He laid the table each time – properly – and we always had wine with the meal. (What my dear Mama would have said I do not know! She viewed all alcohol with deep suspicion.) And in case you are wondering whether I did anything at all, I did sort out the breakfasts – but we always had lunch at a pub.

  So there you are, Fay. That’s me married, and my honeymoon over. Of course, as you know very well, it is now hardly the case of us getting used to each other, because Sam and I have been friends since childhood. But it is certainly the case of me having to accept that I really don’t have much to do…this is the first time that I have been unemployed, with time on my hands, and although I get up each morning to make Sam’s breakfast before he leaves for the hospital, after that it does feel that I’m floating about in a sort of blank space.

  (Alice stopped writing for a moment, letting her own words sink in. If being a comparative lady of leisure was an accepted way of life for some women after marriage, it was not going to be enough for her. The rigorous days at Home Farm, together with busy office life, had injected her with a desire to be part of something much bigger…to spread her wings to see how far she could fly…

  Sighing briefly, she continued writing to Fay)

  Naturally, I do the washing, and keep this little mews cottage clean and tidy – it is lovely, Fay, you must visit soon – and plan and prepare our evening meal. But Sam’s hours are going to vary a lot, and he’s sometimes away at night. So you see, I have to fit my life around his at the moment. Perhaps things will change when he is fully qualified and in one place for a few years, which will give us both a bit more stability because we don’t know where he’ll be sent next.

  I wouldn’t dream of telling Sam, but I do admit to already missing the office, now and then…my life has always been so structured, that having time to twiddle my thumbs seems strange. I sometimes look at my watch and wonder how Valerie and Rex are getting on in Dorchester – I hope that at least one of them gets up in time to open the shop at 9 o’clock! They can both be rather variable in that matter! But I do hope they do well – business in the branch was usually very good, and Rex knows the
trade, so between them it should continue to thrive. Valerie proved a very able assistant for me, and caught on quickly. And she and Rex seem to like each other, which will be an added advantage.

  Well, I think that’s quite enough for you to plough through for now, Fay, so I’ll close. In one of your more boring office moments, perhaps you could pen me a line with your own news? But we are on the phone here at the cottage – the number is on the top of the page – so you can ring me any time you feel like it. And don’t forget, one Saturday when you are both free I want you and Evie to come to London. The three wise monkeys should not be parted for too long! It seems ages since we’ve been together!

  All love, dear Fay – Alice.

  PS. I’m writing to Evie as well. I’m not sure if Max’s divorce is going through this year or next…but perhaps there will soon be another wedding for us to attend. And what on earth would we wear to that one! Clothes are still on ration, but I don’t think we could possibly ask Mrs. Miles to repeat the miracle for us, do you?

  A.

  Alice read and re-read the letter before putting it in the envelope, her eyes thoughtful for a minute. Should she have put that bit about “feeling in a blank space”? Because didn’t it sound ungrateful? She slumped back in the chair, biting her lip. Honestly, here she was, married to the man she’d always loved – another “miracle” if ever there was one – yet she was apparently still not satisfied. What did that say about her? Nothing very admirable, in her own opinion. Perhaps feeling a little bit lost was common in most brides, because marriage was an untried adventure. A total step into the unknown.

  But…maybe…soon, she would have a lot to do! Just maybe…

  Alice placed her hands around her stomach and pressed gently. It felt warmer, somehow…tender…she had definitely noticed it for a day or two… Maybe, just maybe, there was already a little person preparing to travel the nine-month journey to emerge as someone carrying her genes…a little Watts/Carmichael to keep her company. Alice hugged her arms around her tummy at the thought. She’d thought that to be married to Sam was all she would ever want, but it wasn’t turning out quite like that, and now she desperately wanted to produce his babies – well, he was expecting her to, wasn’t he? He’d said as much. And she had never felt fitter in her life, never more ready to play her part in adding to the Carmichael clan. So…maybe putting that bit in her letter to Fay about not having very much to do, was a trifle premature. Maybe, soon, she would have more than she bargained for… perhaps even twins! The Carmichaels were good at making twins. So let that be a lesson for you, Alice Watts. If at the moment you are feeling restless and unfulfilled and that there is more spare time than you’d really like, you’d better make the most of it. Enjoy this new-found freedom in your life!