by Judi Curtin
A few tears even fell onto the page, which was really sad, but I had no time to write a new note, so I shoved it under her clothes, and closed the bag.
Peter took the bag from me and left. Mum closed the door behind him. She looked at me, and said nothing. I wasn’t quite sure how cross she was. She had a strange expression on her face that I couldn’t read. This time, even she couldn’t say, ‘something just like this happened me when I was about your age.’ So she said nothing. I thought about all the lies I’d told her over the past few days. I wiggled my foot on the hall mat. There was a hole in my sock. I couldn’t help wondering if Mum saw it, would she want to darn it?
I said. ‘Maybe I should go to my room for a while.’
Mum looked at me.
‘Yes, maybe you should. We’ll have a long talk about this when your father gets home.’
I went to my room, and lay on the bed. I could see the flask of hot water on the windowsill, all ready for Alice’s tea. She wouldn’t need it now.
After a while, I could hear voices from the front of the house. I went out into the hall and opened the front door. Alice and her mum were just about to drive away. Peter was standing on their front step, looking very serious. Then he turned around and went back into the house.
Alice wasn’t crying, but she was awfully pale, and sad looking. She looked up and saw me. She gave me a small wave, and I waved back. I could see her mum’s lips moving, but Alice didn’t turn towards her. She kept looking at me. We waved until they were out of sight, and then I went back into my room to wait until Dad got home.
Chapter nineteen
Much, much later I heard Dad coming in from work. I heard Mum talking to him in the hall, and then they went in to the family room. They were there for ages. Dad probably wanted to watch a match on television, but I figured Mum wouldn’t have let him. I knew they were talking about me.
After the longest time, there was a knock on my bedroom door. It was Mum, Dad, and Rosie. Great, I thought, a family conference. Subject: How long should Megan be grounded for? All offers over thirty years will be considered.
Questions for discussion:
Should she be allowed out for her confirmation?
Should she be allowed to watch television at any time between now and the opening ceremonies of the 2050 Olympics?
Should she be allowed out for her graduation dance?
Should she be allowed to have a mobile phone this side of her hundredth birthday?
I sat on the edge of my bed, and Mum and Dad sat on either side of me. Did they think I was going to make a run for it? Where would I go? Was I going to escape to Dublin and hide under Alice’s bed until I was old enough to go to college? Hardly.
Rosie sat on the floor and started to play with my jewellery box. She emptied it out onto the carpet. I didn’t care. I had more to worry about than my necklaces getting tangled or my earrings getting lost.
Mum spoke first. ‘Have you anything to say, Megan?’
I hated that. Surely she’d discovered that tactic in one of those parenting books she was forever reading. I always felt it put me at a disadvantage in our discussions.
I decided to be brief.
‘I’m sorry, Mum. Sorry, Dad.’
Dad looked me in the eye. ‘Sorry? Is that it?’
I spoke again. ‘Well, what else do you want me to say? I am sorry. Sort of. Can’t you see? I only did it because I miss Alice so much. And she misses me. It’s not fair. She should be here. Not in some stupid old apartment in Dublin. She belongs here, and all we want is for her to come back. Is that so bad?’
Mum spoke softly. ‘Of course that’s not bad. But you can’t get involved. You can’t change people’s lives. It was a very silly thing to do. Her parents might have panicked. The guards could have been involved. It might have been a lot more serious than it was.’
Dad joined in. ‘Her parents have to live their lives, and even though it makes you sad, there’s not a lot you can do. It’s tough, but sometimes kids just have to grin and bear it. That’s just the way life is. You’ll understand better when you’re older.’
Mum and Dad had a lot to say. An awful lot. And it took them an awful long time to say it. There was a lot of talk about responsibility, and maturity and that kind of stuff. They weren’t really cross, though. And they never raised their voices.
But after twenty minutes of meaningful discussion, I was bored out of my mind. In fact I was beginning to think that I’d prefer to be shouted at for five minutes, and given a proper punishment, and get it over with.
In the end, Mum and Dad decided that as a punishment I’d have to empty the dishwasher every day for a week, and vacuum the whole house every three days for a month. I looked at them in surprise. That wasn’t much of a punishment. I did those jobs most of the time anyway. And more besides.
Mum and Dad stood up. Dad patted me on the shoulder, and said, ‘Don’t worry, Meggie.’
Mum gave me an intense kind of look. ‘Sometimes you have to be seen to do something,’ she said. Then they went out.
I puzzled over her words for a while, before a light went on in my brain and I knew what she meant. Mum and Dad needed to be able to say that I’d been punished, just in case they met any of Alice’s family, and were asked how they’d dealt with the situation.
I smiled to myself. Maybe they weren’t the worst parents in the world after all. OK, so in an ideal world, I’d have preferred ones who were a bit more generous with the chocolate and the electronic toys, and a bit less keen on vegetables and household chores, but I suppose you can’t have everything.
After that we had dinner together. It was chicken with pasta, my favourite. As I ate, I found I was a little relieved that I wouldn’t have to sneak back into my room afterwards to organise Alice’s noodles. I was glad I wouldn’t have to spend twenty minutes climbing in and out of the bathroom window. I was looking forward to just chilling out on the couch and watching TV with Mum and Dad and Rosie.
And then I felt really, really guilty.
Before bed, I asked Mum if I could check my e-mails. She nodded. ‘OK, love, but don’t be too disappointed if there’s none from Alice. Her Mum is really very cross with her. She might not be in a position to be e-mailing anyone.’
Mum was wrong though. There was a message. A big, long one.
Hi Megan,
I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is, I’m not allowed to e-mail you for four weeks. The good news is, Mum plays bridge three nights a week, and won’t ever know if I obey her or not. And Jamie’s asleep, so he’ll never know either so I won’t even have to bribe him to keep quiet. I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble. I know I said I’d take all the blame, but when Mum and Dad showed up, I got such a fright, I forgot all about it. When we went into our house, Mum really lost it. She was shouting and screaming at me for ages. Then the usual thing happened. She started to blame Dad, and she was shouting at him as if I wasn’t there. I wanted to tell him to defend himself, and not to let her talk to him like that, but I was too scared. Then, after ages, Mum started one of her ‘poor me’ acts. She said, ‘After all I’ve done for this family, how could you do this to me?’ And then something fantastic happened - Dad went really crazy. He doesn’t usually get cross, but this time he really lost it. It was scary but great. He said all Mum had ever done for the family was ruin it, and that Jamie and me are going to end up as delinquents, and it will all be her fault. Dad really got going then. He called her a big, selfish social climber. He said he was going to put his foot down once and for all. In the end it was really, really great. I was so proud of him. He said if Mum didn’t promise to let me and Jamie go to Limerick every second weekend, and for half of all holidays, he’d hound her through the courts and have her declared an unfit mother. Mum was quiet for once. I think she got a bit of a fright. And you know, she’s not as bad as Dad says. She just needs more space in her life. I think I can kind of understand that. Then Dad made her promise that we can come down
the weekend after next, and guess what? She promised. And I’ll be down for a full week at Christmas, and lots of times in between. So you see, Megan, we won. It worked!!!!!! Thanks to you, I can spend lots of time at home, and even though it’s not as good as moving back home for good, I think even I have to admit that it was very unlikely that that was ever going to happen. I was just dreaming as usual.
Thanks for your note. It made me feel both better and worse. But who cares? Let’s look on the bright side of things. I’ll see you in just nine more days, which is less than a week and a half away. And I won’t even have to sleep on the floor, or eat dried noodles or climb out a single window.
Yippee!!!!!
Al
It was late, so I just sent her a short reply
Al
That is the best news in the whole wide world.
Meg
PS: You will never be a distant memory.
I wasn’t sure about the last line. Maybe it was a bit OTT. But then I decided to leave it in. Alice and I had been through a lot in the past few days. I knew she’d understand.
I shut down the computer, and went to bed. Mum came in to kiss me. She even joked about Alice. ‘Do I need to check under the bed tonight? Anyone else in the room, besides you?’ she asked.
I shook my head. ‘Just me, I promise.’
Mum hugged me, and then put out the light.
It had been a very long day.
Chapter twenty
It’s the day after Christmas Day.
Soon Alice will be arriving to stay with her dad for ten long, lovely days. Her mum is going to Lanzarote, for a break. My mum laughed when she heard that, and said that it must be nice to need a break from bridge and tennis and going to the beautician’s, but then she realised that I was listening so she didn’t say any more. It wasn’t a mean laugh though, and I didn’t mind.
I’d better go back and give a quick account of what happened next.
Going back to school after mid-term was nearly as bad as September had been. But then, over the next few weeks, things started to improve. One day I noticed that Grace and Louise, two of Melissa’s friends, didn’t seem to be talking to her. I wondered why, but of course I didn’t ask them. That night I e-mailed Alice to tell her. She replied that it was probably because they didn’t curtsey low enough when they were talking to her. Then I e-mailed back and said that they probably forgot to admire her hair, or her new coat or something. Anyway, I didn’t care what they were fighting about, it was nice to know that that there existed two more people who understood that Melissa wasn’t the most wonderful creature on this earth.
Next day, Miss O’Herlihy decided to move our places in class again. She put Melissa next to Jane, and everyone laughed. Melissa looked really, really mad, but couldn’t say anything because Miss O’Herlihy had her very cross face on. Jane just sat up straight, and said nothing. I felt kind of sorry for her. (Not sorry enough to want to sit with her again though.)
Then Miss O’Herlihy put me next to Louise. I would have hated that before, but it turned out that Louise was really quite nice. At break-time she shared her crisps with me. And when I told her a joke, she laughed like she really thought it was funny.
A few days later, we were told to divide into three for history projects. Louise suggested that Grace, me and her would go together. I was delighted, but tried to look cool, like it was no big deal. We decided to do our project on the Vikings. We worked on it for two weeks. Grace and Louise came to my house most days after school, and we looked stuff up on the Internet. Mum made us celery and carrot sticks, and Grace and Louise were really nice and didn’t laugh once.
When the project was finished we all went to Grace’s house for a pizza, to celebrate. It was fun.
At first, I didn’t know what to say to Alice about my new friends. I didn’t want her to be jealous. I didn’t want her to think that I had already forgotten about her.
I needn’t have worried though. She thought it was great that I wasn’t on my own any more. She said that made her feel better about making new friends in Dublin.
One weekend when she was staying with her dad, Alice asked Grace, Louise and me over for an evening. We watched a video, and played basketball, and just did girlie kind of stuff. It was great.
That Sunday, when she was leaving to go back to Dublin, I felt extra bad. I told her so.
She gave a big laugh. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I’m invited to a sleepover in Dublin on Friday, and on Saturday a few of us are going to the pictures in the afternoon. I’ll miss you. But I’ll get over it.’
I laughed too.
She gave me a quick hug. ‘And I’ll see you the week after next.’
As her dad drove her away, I forgot even to feel sad.
* * *
So there it is.
I hope that even when I’m a grown-up, Alice will bemy very best friend. Grace and Louise are nice, but they’ll never replace Alice. We’ve decided that we both want to go to college together, and we’re going to share a flat. Alice says she’ll live with me forever as long as I promise not to feed her with dried noodles. I agreed, but made her promise to do something about her snoring.
Alice says she probably won’t get married, after seeing how her parents turned out, but if ever she changes her mind, then she’d like me to be her bridesmaid.
I hope Alice and I will be very best friends when we’re ninety, and shuffling round a nursing home in baggy brown cardigans and furry slippers, talking about hearing aids and walking sticks and stuff.
But in the meantime, I’m having fun.
About the Author
JUDI CURTIN grew up in Cork and now lives in Limerick where she is married with three children. All seven books in the ‘Alice & Megan’ series are published by The O’Brien Press. With Roisin Meaney, she is the author of See If I Care, and she has also written three novels, Sorry, Walter, From Claire to Here and Almost Perfect. Her books have been translated into Serbian, Portuguese and German.
The ‘Alice & Megan’ series
Alice Next Door
Alice Again
Don’t Ask Alice
Alice in the Middle
Bonjour Alice
Alice & Megan Forever
Alice to the Rescue
Praise for the ‘Alice & Megan’ series
‘Hilarious and touching’, Sunday Independent
‘Brilliantly observed’, Evening Echo
‘Prepare to be bewitched by Curtin’s entertaining writing style’,
Woman’s Way
Copyright
This eBook edition first published 2012 by The O’Brien Press Ltd,
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Website: www.obrien.ie
First published 2005
eBook ISBN: 978–1–84717–369–0
Text © copyright Judi Curtin 2005
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British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
Curtin, Judi
Alice next door
1.Best friends - Juvenile fiction 2.Children’s stories
I-Title II.Fox, Woody
823.9’2[j]
The O’Brien Press receives assistance from
Illustrations:Woody Fox
Layout and
design: The O’Brien Press Ltd