Putting Alice Back Together

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘You get enough at work…’

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Maybe I just couldn’t stand watching you self-destruct. I should have…’

  ‘You couldn’t help me, Hugh. I had to do that bit myself…’

  I had.

  How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb?

  One.

  But it has to want to change.

  It is a stupid joke—and I hate jokes—I never get them, but this is one of the few that I understand.

  It isn’t actually a joke—at least, I no longer find it that funny.

  It’s true.

  For a while I had wanted to lie with Dan for ever, but he had made me get up.

  For ages it was better that Roz answered the phone.

  Roz had let me shelter in victim mode.

  Roz would have loved me if I’d stayed there for ever.

  Truth be told, Roz didn’t like her baby growing up.

  But she worked on herself too.

  And there was Bonny and Nicole and Hugh and all things complicated, but the only person who could do the big bit was me.

  The only person who could change me was me.

  We walked twice around the lake, our breath white in the cold winter air, and then we sat down and I told him—all of it. I told him about Gus and what had happened, and I spoke too about Roz, about the choices that she’d made and about her daughter and Andrew and I sort of jumbled it all out. And given his job, he was a good listener. Well, he had to be because I couldn’t stop. I told him—about my music and my hair and the money and the chaos, how Roz had helped me and how I had helped myself.

  How the worst thing that could happen was that you couldn’t talk to your parents—and that Roz and Lizzie were getting there now. And that Lizzie was seventeen too and we could just hope to God that by talking, by being honest, by being able to come to Roz, she wouldn’t make the same mistakes we had.

  Earlier in this conversation I had told him about Lydia, but when we stopped at a bench I told him properly.

  Not all.

  It wasn’t about him.

  There are bits of me so private, and I don’t have to reveal all to anyone.

  I told him what I chose to.

  ‘I miss her.’

  I felt his hand on my shoulder.

  ‘All she could have been…’

  Then Hugh said something. ‘All that she was.’

  He sounded like a sympathy card and my throat tightened around some caustic retort, but I accepted his words.

  She was.

  She is.

  She will always be my baby.

  He was ridiculously proud that I had been accepted to study for my bachelor of music, so proud and encouraging, and there was almost a wistful note in his voice when he asked me what I want to be.

  And I told him something I haven’t told you yet.

  I no longer want to teach.

  Remember that night playing Mika?

  Remember how Roz laughed, how we were suddenly free?

  I had thought about all that music gave me, how it took me to places I could never usually go, and I wanted to give it to someone else.

  I wanted to climb into some poor bastard’s locked brain and give them the key.

  ‘Musical therapist…’ I gave a tiny shrug. ‘I think.’ And I saw the flare of interest in his eyes. There was a conversation, many conversations we could have had, but now we wouldn’t.

  I shifted the conversation.

  I had boundaries now, you see.

  My future wasn’t his place.

  And he told me about him. He told me that he hadn’t fled back to the UK because of me—the woman on maternity leave had lost her babe and had wanted to come back. He told me that this week he had, in fact, been offered a job in Melbourne, that it was breaking him up to turn it down, that sometimes he wondered if things could be different—but he’d been so worried, broken so many of his own rules by staying with me, by trying to ignore what was under his nose.

  He was worried that he might enable me.

  And I understood.

  It hurt a lot, but I understood.

  And if that was hard and brave, as we came back to Reception, as we headed inside, I said the hardest bravest thing of all.

  ‘I’m happy for you and Gemma. I want you to be happy, so I really am—happy for you.’

  And a kiss goodbye would be too dangerous and too sad and I really wasn’t going to cry, so I smiled instead before I turned to go.

  ‘We broke up.’

  I looked back at him, saw him rake his hand through his hair, and could see he was torn as to what and how much he should say to me, lest I burn his bunnies on a boiler.

  ‘We lasted a couple of weeks. But, well…’ He gave a thin smile. ‘We’re friends, just really good friends with a whole lot of history—hey, she was seventeen too.’

  ‘Lucky Gemma,’ I said, because to lose your virginity to a guy like Hugh made you a very lucky girl indeed.

  ‘So what’s she doing here?’

  ‘She’s supposed to be protecting me from you, except she’s making eyes at the best man.’

  I had done that once too.

  I just hoped Gemma was a little more sensible than I had been.

  ‘You don’t need protection from me,’ I said. ‘I know that it’s over and I understand why.’ And I smiled. But I did start crying, a little bit, because it was true you had to be careful what you wished for. I had demanded from the universe the perfect guy and the universe had delivered—I should have read the small print. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except my own that I’d been sent the perfect guy, as requested, and I hadn’t been ready.

  ‘I wish I’d met you later,’ I said, ‘when I was all sorted and…’

  ‘But you didn’t.’

  He pulled me into his arms and didn’t kiss me, thank God, because my nose was running; he just hugged me and held me and then, because he had to, he let me go.

  ‘Hey.’ Roz was in the loos waiting, worried and kind and armed with make-up and tissues—not to mop my tears but to help me be brave. ‘Blow your nose and let’s get back out there. You can tell me about it after.’

  I didn’t want it to be after but I accepted that it had to be.

  So I blew my nose and painted my face and walked back out there with my head held high. Roz headed for the bar to buy me a bloody grapefruit juice this time—only of course Karan rang, and Roz dashed out.

  And I sat alone in the darkness, watching all the couples dancing.

  But I didn’t feel like a wallflower on New Year’s Eve.

  I was just a woman sitting, pausing, watching others dance, some alone, some in couples, some in groups. I knew that one day, when I was ready, I might join in.

  And then I saw him watching me, saw him look away and then look back. I smiled, to let him know that I was okay, that he really didn’t have to worry about me, that he could let me go.

  Only he didn’t let me go.

  He put down his orange juice and walked in a completely straight line towards me.

  He walked right up to me and, just as Yasmin had said the right man would always come back, just as Big Tits had said a man should, Hugh walked up to me and asked if he could have the pleasure of this dance.

  Read all About it…

  putting

  Alice

  back

  together

  MORE ABOUT THIS BOOK

  2 Questions for your reading group

  MORE ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  4 Find out more about Carol Marinelli

  QUESTIONS FOR YOUR READING GROUP

  1. Alice is a normal woman who is on the edge, pressures of work, love and everyday life pile on to the secrets buried in her past. Are there aspects in Alice that you can relate to? How many of us, do you think, are hiding our biggest fears?

  2. Alice is almost fanatical about her hair. How significant do you think this is to the storyline and her turbulent emotions?

&nb
sp; 3. Music is extremely important to Alice; what role do you feel music plays in the narrative?

  4. Lisa plays a key part in Alice’s journey of self-discovery, as do the self-help books and the universe! Did Putting Alice Back Together change your opinions about asking for help? Could Alice put herself back together on her own?

  5. Hugh stays with Alice for a long time before he confronts her about her addiction. Why do you think he doesn’t see the warning signs earlier?

  6. Alice is battling addiction, her relationship with her family and, most importantly, her relationship with herself. How do you think the book deals with these three elements?

  7. If Alice could write a letter to her mother now, what do you think she would write?

  8. There are so many poignant moments in the story and also laugh-out-loud scenes; which passages stood out for you?

  9. Do you think that Alice and Hugh should have their happy-ever-after?

  READ ON TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT CAROL MARINELLI…

  What inspired you to create the story and character of Alice?

  Alice

  She just kept knocking on my head and on a Thursday night I would write a little. At first just a page or two, or sometimes I would read her back, but more and more I started looking forward to Thursday nights and getting to know her.

  Did you have Alice’s character mapped out before you started? What surprised you most about her along the way?

  I didn’t have her character mapped out at all. She surprised me at every turn. When I first started writing it, the book was a lot lighter—in fact it was very much more about hair! The more that all faded, the more Alice started to show herself.

  Were you ever worried about creating a heroine who was quite flawed, and being able to keep her sympathetic?

  Absolutely.

  I struggled for a long time—a very long time, until I took that shackle off. I really liked Alice, even if she drove me insane at times. Once I got past attempting to give her flaws that might be more acceptable, or trying to please, and I just let her be herself, I found a far more interesting person. I think the same is true in life.

  How important do you think the notion of family is to Alice?

  Family was vital to Alice and still is. I do think that she needed their approval too much though—so much so that she felt she had to protect them from her real self, which, as it turned out, was really rather nice.

  Apart from Alice, who was your favourite and also who annoyed you the most?

  I love Roz—funnily I didn’t when I started writing the book, but, finding out a bit more about her journey as I went along, she just changed before my eyes and became so much more a part of the story. She made me laugh so many times—and had me tearing up too.

  Nicole, on the other hand, was always annoying—when the book was more about hair she was around a little bit more and really got on my nerves! It was quite pleasurable deleting her at times.

  If Alice could go back now do you think she would tell her mother the truth?

  I’m sure she would—with the benefit of hindsight and a whole lot of growing up and psychology—but she can’t go back and somehow, I hope, she is now accepting of that.

  Do you think Alice gets her happy-ever-after?

  I hope for a few glimpses of Alice in future books—I love her too much not to find out for myself. I do think that she got her happy-ever-after at the supermarket and then later at the Church. That said, after writing the end, a part of me really, and I mean REALLY, wanted her to go back to the pub with him and kick Roz out so that I could write a whole chapter on that last night, but I also felt it was right to leave it there—that no matter how badly I wanted to sew it up, in the end their future was up to Hugh and Alice.

  Can you describe your writing process? Do you start with the characters? The plot? Do you write the last chapter first?

  Do you really want to know my writing process??!

  I eat cornflakes.

  I see something.

  I start.

  I get all excited and am convinced it will be done in a few short weeks.

  Nothing happens for variable periods.

  I finally see the end (I can only write when I

  know the ending—even just a little peek at it).

  I write the end.

  I read the end and hopefully get goosebumps.

  Then I go back and have to write the rest, trying to work out how on earth they got there.

  Can you tell us a little about your next book?

  I was so in love with Alice that I was concerned I could never fall so heavily again—I’m happy to say that I have. I’m staying quiet, except to say—I don’t think that it’s the story you’re expecting.

  I have the start.

  I like her so much that I’ve stopped worrying if she’s likeable. I’m past the variable and have written the end and am now working out how on earth they got there! I am also very glad to report that I got goosebumps.

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

  All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II B.V./S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  MIRA is a registered trademark of Harlequin Enterprises Limited, used under licence.

  First published in Great Britain 2012

  MIRA Books, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited,

  Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road,

  Richmond, Surrey, TW9 1SR

  © Carol Marinelli 2012

  Cosmic Love by Yasmin Boland used with permission

  ISBN 978-1-408-96967-0