The Alice Stories

by Davina Bell

  ‘It sounds to me like he might have deserved them,’ said Jilly.

  ‘It’s not his fault he’s like this – it’s the war. Same as with Douglas.’ Alice tested the knots on her rope. ‘But I don’t care if I have to try a million different things, I’m going to cheer him up. He can’t stay miserable forever. Now, what usually cheers people up?’

  ‘Food,’ said Jilly. ‘So the crabs are a start. What about a picnic at the river?’

  ‘Well, he still hasn’t seen Papa Sir’s boat. I’m sure James would take us out on it if we asked him. But can you think of anything else – anything more spectacular? What’s the most . . . the most breathtaking thing you can imagine?’

  Jilly leaned over and dangled her fingers into the water, tapping them on the surface to form rings. ‘You know, you could dance for him, Alice.’

  ‘I told you, Jilly. I’m not –’

  ‘Not even for Teddy? He loved seeing you dance. Which reminds me. Ballet auditions for the peacetime concert are next week – are you going to come? We’re doing The Fairy Snow Queen. Remember how much Teddy loved it when you were in that?’

  Alice looked across at Jilly, feeling her heart slam against her ribs. This was the first she had heard of a peacetime concert. They’d danced The Fairy Snow Queen two years ago, and Alice had been the star part – the beautiful queen who danced to the end of the world to break the spell that had frozen her wings. Alice felt that she’d practised so hard and loved it so much, she hadn’t just danced the part – she was the Fairy Snow Queen. Or at least, she had been.

  ‘I’m only telling you this because you’re my best friend,’ Jilly said. ‘But the reason you won’t come back to class, Alice Alexander, is because you’re scared. You’re scared that you won’t be as good as you were before. And it’s fine to be scared. But it’s not fine to do nothing about it.’

  Though Alice had thought the very same thing, it hurt to hear it. ‘It’s not very nice, Jilly,’ she said in a tight voice, ‘to call me a coward.’

  ‘You’re only a coward if you act like a coward,’ said Jilly calmly as they rowed back towards the shore. ‘You’re the best dancer anyone around here has seen. If I were even half as talented as you, I’d be dancing every chance I had. And so would any of the other girls. So think about that next time you’re feeling sorry for yourself because you can’t let yourself try. It’s a choice, Alice. And it’s yours.’

  n the last day of the holidays, as Alice started to pull everyone’s school pinafores out of the cupboard, she made a long list in her mind of all the things she needed to do: make sure everyone had clean socks and the girls had ribbons, fetch their shoes for polishing and their satchels for clearing out. Hopefully Mabel wouldn’t have left any putrid apples in her bag, like last year. Alice wished she’d thought to check about the clean clothes earlier, for now she’d have to light the copper if she wanted to wash and wring them out. It felt good to think about practical things; it helped her push her guilt away. For Teddy hadn’t come out of his room since she’d said those hateful words.

  Mama left food outside his door at night, but each morning when Alice went to collect the tray, it was untouched. The only sound that came from his room was the occasional hoarse gasps of that awful cough. If he wastes away, it will be all my fault, Alice told herself fiercely. And Jilly’s right – I’m too much of a coward to dance, even if it would save Teddy’s life.

  But when Mama found her hunting for pairs of bloomers, she shooed Alice away.

  ‘Tiens! Do not be spending your last day of freedom doing boring chores. I shall wash for the children. Go out – enjoy the sun.’

  ‘Are you sure, Mama? I’ve always done it before – I don’t mind.’

  Mama looked at her with worry and tenderness, all mixed together, and took Little’s bloomers from her hands. ‘I am afraid that all the time I was working, I stopped you being a leetle girl.’

  ‘I’m not little, and I liked it, Mama.’ She paused. ‘And I think I was good at it,’ she said. ‘But if you’re sure, I’ll go and see Jilly.’

  ‘Absolument.’

  ‘Mama?’ said Alice. ‘I know you liked working, but it’s so nice having you home.’

  Mama smiled fondly at Alice. ‘I ’ad thought that without my job, I would be miserable. But I love being with my family. And I ’ave loved cooking for you, and caring for you. It ’as been too long since I did this properly. You carried everyone through the war, ma petite. And now, let go of us all and be free.’

  Alice kissed Mama on the cheek, feeling as if something heavier than the world had been lifted from her back. Mama was right – she had done it. The war really was over, and though Papa Sir was gone forever, Alice had kept the rest of them safe. She felt as if she’d managed to shield a tiny candle from a roaring wind by cupping it carefully in her hand.

  Alice sprinted up to her bedroom, lifted the mattress and snatched the big cream envelope that lay there, shoving it into the pocket of her dress. It was the letter from her audition with Edouard Espinosa; Alice had almost forgotten about it, she’d kept it secret so long. But now she’d show Jilly, and tell her that she’d made up her mind. I’ll dance the Fairy Snow Queen, and Teddy will be happy and Miss Lillibet will be proud. And Jilly won’t think I’m a coward any longer, she thought as she ran back downstairs and through the kitchen and raced across the lawn to Jilly’s house. Just this morning I was so gloomy, and now I truly believe I could fly.

  Jilly’s mother opened the door and smiled warmly at Alice. ‘Come in, dearie,’ she said. ‘They’re up in the nursery.’

  Alice took the stairs two at a time. As she ran up the hallway, she heard some very familiar music coming from the nursery.

  ‘Jilly? Guess what!’ she called as she burst in, fishing out the envelope to show her friend. ‘I’m going to audition!’

  There stood Jilly in her dance tunic and her ballet shoes, and next to her was Miss Lillibet, shaping Jilly’s arms into a fifth position.

  And then Alice realised: the music on the gramophone was the opening solo dance of the Fairy Snow Queen.

  ‘You’re too late,’ said Jilly, a look of mortification on her freckly face. ‘The auditions were yesterday and I didn’t want to tell you yet but . . . but I’m the Fairy Snow Queen. I auditioned and I got the part and Miss Lillibet is helping me learn it because there isn’t much time before the concert.’

  ‘Dear Alice, Jilly told me you’d made up your mind,’ said Miss Lillibet guiltily.

  As Alice stood looking at her two favourite people, she felt as if the roof of her world was crumbling down. She wanted to say something, but her throat hurt more than when she’d had tonsillitis and Papa Sir had made her ice-cream that was really just sweet dribbles of cold milk.

  ‘I’ll give it up,’ said Jilly desperately. ‘I’ll tell Miss Josephine that I won’t do it – I’ll go and tell her this afternoon.’

  But as Alice tried to swallow down her sadness, she thought of all the times she’d been the star, and how proud Jilly had been, and excited. ‘You’ll do no such thing, Jilly McNair,’ she said. ‘You earned the part fair and square, and you’ll be wonderful. Miss Lillibet is the best teacher in the world.’

  Relief flooded colour back into Jilly’s face, and Miss Lillibet smiled at Alice. But as Alice turned to go, her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Oh – Alice?’ Jilly called after her.

  ‘Yes?’ croaked Alice, not turning around.

  ‘Do you still have the tiara from the last concert? Miss Lillibet thought I should practise in it. Could you bring it over?’

  Alice nodded and shoved the big cream envelope back into her pocket as she ran out the door.

  Slumping along by the river, Alice’s head throbbed. Don’t you dare be jealous, she told herself. It’s your own stupid fault.

  As she passed the Scotch College boatshed, she saw James climbing out of the water to lie on the warm wooden slats of the jetty. She wandered over and lay down beside him. ‘Hi J
ames. Did you have a good swim?’

  ‘My best time yet. Should be right for the Swim-Through in a few weeks’ time.’ James propped himself up on his elbow to look into Alice’s face. ‘You’re glum, Birdy. What’s shaking?’

  Alice looked out at the river, which was so still and peaceful, it seemed to be mocking her. ‘I . . . I might be a murderer soon,’ she said, and then felt silly for being so dramatic.

  But James didn’t laugh or tease. ‘Hmm. Prison’s tough. Why don’t you give me the background, and we’ll try to avoid it?’

  Alice turned over onto her stomach and squinted through the gaps in the jetty to watch the water lap and sparkle below.

  ‘Have you ever felt like you were once very good at something . . . and then you had to watch someone overtake you – someone who you knew, in your heart, wasn’t as good?’

  James was silent, and as Alice turned to look at him, she saw he was holding out his arm to her – the one without the hand. His stump looked raw and sore. She remembered how he had once played cricket; the wishful look on his face when he’d told her. Alice realised that if anyone understood what it felt like to lose a part of yourself, it was James.

  ‘Mine sounds so silly, compared to you losing your hand. I can’t even say it.’

  ‘You could never sound silly to me, Birdy.’

  Alice took a deep breath. ‘Jilly’s going to dance the role of the Fairy Snow Queen at the peacetime concert. And that’s my favourite part in the world. I danced it two years ago, and it was the first time I believed that I might one day be a real dancer. I feel so mean, but I’m not sure how I’ll be able to go and watch her, even though she’s always watched me be the star. Because before I knew you, James, and before Teddy left, and before the war, I used to be a ballerina.’ The word sounded so pretty, so simple.

  ‘Everything felt easy then, and I didn’t have any worries – not hardly one.’ Alice watched as one of her tears slid down her nose and plopped through a gap in the jetty. She waited for it to hit the water, but it was too small to make a splash. ‘But now I’m too frightened to dance. And everything’s a jumbled mess because of me.’ She closed her eyes.

  ‘Bird? I need you to look at me,’ James said, and his voice was so tender that Alice turned and looked.

  ‘You don’t have to make everything all right for everyone. Sometimes there are things that can’t be changed or mended.’

  Alice thought about it for a moment. ‘But I’m the fixer – I’m the glue that holds us together. Teddy told me, before he left.’

  James shook his head. ‘That’s what you do. Just as ballet was something you did, and you might do again, if you choose. But it’s not who you are. You’re Alice Alexander of Peppermint Grove,’ he said, ‘and nothing you fix or start or stop can change that. Whatever you do, you’re already perfect. Just as you are.’

  Alice of Peppermint Grove. It sounds nice, Alice thought, through her tears. It sounds like someone I hope I might be one day.

  ‘As for the concert,’ James continued, ‘give yourself some time to decide. You might just surprise yourself and go along after all. But either way, I won’t think any less of you, and I doubt Jilly will either.’

  Then Alice leaned forward and squeezed James tight. He hugged her back, and his arms around her felt warm and safe.

  ‘You hug just like my father,’ she said in wonder. ‘James,’ she said as they let each other go. ‘I’m glad that you came to us – that Mabel wasn’t Arabella.’

  ‘Alice Alexander, I wouldn’t trade you for all the Arabellas in the world.’

  As Alice walked up through the orchard toward home, she could see Teddy sitting on the verandah, watching her – or perhaps he wasn’t at all. But it didn’t matter, because he was there, not dead in his room or dead on a field in France. He looked so small and alone in his rocking chair that Alice’s heart panged.

  ‘Teddy,’ she said when she reached him, ‘I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry that I don’t know how to cheer you up.’

  ‘And I’m sorry,’ said Teddy, ‘that I’m not James.’

  She spun around, and Teddy was looking right at her with his Papa Sir eyes.

  ‘I don’t want you to be James,’ she said. ‘I just want you here. And you are.’

  He looked back out at the garden. ‘I can’t go around pretending I’m the same chap I was before I left,’ he said.

  Alice had never known so deeply that Teddy was her brother; that there were things they shared that didn’t have words or names. ‘I don’t want you to pretend,’ she said quietly. ‘Promise me you never will.’

  ack at school, it seemed all anyone could talk about was the Big Weekend in March: the Swim-Through which would be on a Saturday morning, followed by the peacetime concert on Sunday afternoon.

  At elevenses, Podger started taking bets about who would win the swim. Alice and Jilly stood with a group of girls on the side of the asphalt, watching them line up and wager their pocket money or their marbles.

  ‘Oi, Alice,’ called Septimus Burt. ‘Is your brother racing? I reckon he’s in with a shot. Podger, take my fiver for Teddy Alexander to win.’

  ‘Don’t – he’s not racing,’ Alice said. ‘He’s . . . he’s just not.’

  ‘Perhaps they should start taking a bet about whether the whole thing will go ahead,’ said Ada.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Alice asked, thinking of how hard James had been training.

  ‘Well, I’ve heard that in the eastern states people aren’t allowed to meet in big groups because of the Spanish flu. They don’t want it to spread, so the theatres are closed and everything – no public gatherings at all. I expect that will happen here soon.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Jilly to Alice. ‘What if it does and we can’t do the peacetime concert?’

  ‘That would be terrible,’ Alice replied untruthfully. It was a wicked thing to wish that the concert would be called off, but she did it anyway, trying to push away the memory of Jilly’s sparkling face when Alice had given her the tiara that morning.

  ‘It’s silly to be so excited, I know,’ Jilly had said apologetically. ‘But I’ve never been the star of anything before. Even in the Christmas nativity, I was always just the innkeeper’s daughter.’

  ‘It’s not silly at all,’ said Alice firmly. ‘It’s a big part. And you’ll be wonderful.’

  The Swim-Through wasn’t cancelled, and the early March sun was high in the sky as Alice and her family arrived at Mosman Bay a few weeks’ later to watch it. The foreshore was a field of bobbing hats: square straw boaters; white, puffy meringue hats that tied under ladies’ chins; little bonnets that shaded chubby babies in their big-wheeled prams. Mama had Pudding on her shoulders, and George had Little on his back.

  ‘Come on, Alice,’ said Mabel, ‘I’ll get us to the front.’ She set off through the crowd with her elbows stuck out and weaved her way right to the front, where the crowd had gathered round the finishing line in a half moon. They found Miss Lillibet there and slipped in beside her as Ginger, the policeman, stood atop a ladder on the jetty, pistol in one hand and a megaphone in the other.

  ‘All competitors are to follow the course out to the buoy, around the Point Walter spit post, to Keane’s Point, and back to the jetty. TAKE your marrrrrks, GET set . . . GO!’

  When the starting gun went off, the crowd roared and the water bubbled like bath foam, and the fins of bent elbows popped up through the choppy waves.

  ‘Busby-Wilks is leading them out,’ called a man with binoculars and a twirly moustache. ‘Beautiful stroke style.’

  ‘But can he stay the distance? My money’s on Rolf Nyman,’ said Ford, the stationmaster.

  ‘I wonder what’s on their minds while they’re out there,’ mused Miss Lillibet. ‘What do you think, Alice?’

  ‘I bet James is picturing you, Miss Lillibet,’ said Alice, grinning. ‘And that’s what’s making him go so fast.’ Alice looked up at her with delight. But Miss Lillibet looked as if she would b
e ill, right there on the foreshore. Her face had turned green with horror or maybe fright – Alice couldn’t tell which.

  But she didn’t have the chance to ask, because suddenly the crowd was jostling and parting, and someone was yelling, ‘Make way! Make way! Quickly – please.’

  Alice didn’t have to turn around to know that voice. And as Teddy pushed past her in his swimming trunks, Alice felt as if she were in a happy dream.

  ‘Catch ’em, Teddy!’ yelled Septimus Burt.

  And as Teddy sprinted to the water and threw himself into the shallows, the whole crowd joined in.

  ‘Te-ddy, Te-ddy, Te-ddy,’ they roared as his legs churned and his arms whirled like propellers.

  ‘Te-ddy, Te-ddy,’ screamed Alice and Mabel as they clutched each other and jumped up and down.

  With each stroke, Teddy drew closer to the roiling pack of swimmers. It seemed to Alice as if they were almost treading water, they were so slow in comparison. As he rounded the buoy, he caught up to one, and then another. Alice thought she would go deaf, Mabel’s shrieks were so loud.

  The stretch from the buoy to the Point Walter spit was the longest. What if he tires? Alice thought desperately.

  But Teddy didn’t tire. He pulled away from everyone, stroking in the smooth, strong rhythm that Alice knew was his alone. He’s going to win, she thought incredulously as he reached the spit and turned for the final sprint to the jetty, where the crowd, wild with delight, willed him on as one. He’s going to win, and he’ll be happy again. Alice felt giddy with relief, and reached out for Miss Lillibet’s hand only to find that Miss Lillibet was wiping her eyes and weeping.

  But as he neared the finish line, Teddy stopped swimming; his arms stopped whirling, his head went under.

  The crowd buzzed with confusion, and then went quiet.

  ‘What’s he playing at? Duck-diving for pennies?’ called Ford.