by Davina Bell
Thankfully, the wind had died down by the time she finished. ‘Shall we say something?’ she asked.
‘I’ll do it,’ said Mabel, clasping her hands dramatically and bowing her head. ‘Papa Sir, if you can hear me, thank you for teaching me how to waggle my ears,’ she said. ‘I’m the only one in the whole school who can do it. And just so you know, George is going to write plays, like Shakespeare. Oh – also, Alice is on pointe shoes now. Little is very well behaved. And even though you never met Pudding, I think you’d like her. Everyone does. Anyway, we’ll be back to visit. Promise. Goodbye.’
Though it might just have been the wind again, the leaves of the little acorn shimmered as if they were waving small goodbyes of their own.
‘Wait,’ said Teddy in a choked-up voice. He came forward and knelt and patted down the earth around the sapling, as tenderly as he used to stroke Pudding’s head. He tried to speak, and then tried again. But the words wouldn’t come out; his voice was too thick with tears, and all the things he couldn’t say clogged up in his throat.
‘Ready then?’
They turned to see James there, his hands held out to them. ‘Governor Macartney’s started the ceremony up at the Circle. We’d better scoot to catch it.’
It started to bucket down, and so many umbrellas went up that the Circle looked like a field of opening flowers. Alice had forgotten their umbrellas, so they shivered under their hats while someone read a message from Queen Mary, who had sent the acorns from the Royal Oaks in Windsor Great Park. ‘May these fine oaks grow and flourish for many years, and stand as a reminder to generations to come of the devotion and loyalty of those brave sons of the Empire who gave their lives in the cause of justice and freedom.’
The crowd roared, and Alice felt her backbone tingle, and suddenly Teddy was beside her, wiping his face on his sleeve.
‘Can we go, Tink?’ he asked her in a low voice. ‘Please?’
Alice nodded and gestured to the others, and they slipped out through the crowd while the Union Jack was being raised alongside the Australian flag.
As they walked back to the car, Alice looked at the littlies and saw that their eyes were bright and their cheeks were pink and glowing. Feeling as if her heart was glowing too, Alice remembered something. He did – he really did, she told herself. Teddy called me Tink. She turned around to smile at him and saw the most wonderful thing in the world.
Teddy and Miss Lillibet were holding hands.
‘Mama!’ they called as they burst through the front door and up the stairs, tripping over each other – apart from Teddy, who was walking Miss Lillibet home. ‘Mama! We’re back!’
But when they reached her bedroom and Mabel threw open the door, Mama’s bed was rumpled and empty. Alice felt the sour tang of sick in her throat.
‘Mama?’ they called desperately, looking next to the bed and in the bathroom. She hadn’t left these rooms for so long that to imagine her somewhere else seemed strange and wrong. ‘Mama, where are you?’
‘I am ’ere,’ a tiny voice called. ‘In the parlour.’
Alice sprinted down to the parlour, where Mama sat reading, wrapped in a dressing gown by a rosy, crackling fire. There was a tray of mugs and a pile of bread next to the toasting stick.
‘Mama, it’s so nice to see you there. But are you sure you should be out of bed?’
‘Absolument,’ Mama said, her eyes twinkling. ‘Ever since I waved you farewell and felt the wind on my face, I have felt superbe. I was not expecting you back for hours! ’ave you ’ad your picnic?’
The others rushed in behind Alice, who had to hold them back from wrapping themselves around their mother’s frail little body. ‘Oh no! I forgot all about the food,’ she said. ‘Everyone take off your wet clothes this instant. Mabel, you get our nightshirts, and George, tell Uncle Bear to bring the basket from the car. We can picnic on the rug.’
‘Mama! We planted a tree for Papa Sir,’ said Little, as she stood warming her tiny bottom by the fire.
‘It’ll be there always – you’ll be able to visit soon, too,’ said Mabel happily, returning with the nightshirts and tossing everyone theirs in turn. ‘There’s a very posh plaque with his name on it.’
Mama’s eyes filled with longing. ‘’ow I wish I could see.’
And then Alice had a wonderful idea. ‘Well, why do we have to stop with one tree? Doesn’t Papa Sir deserve more? Let’s turn the whole thing into – what’s it called? A memorial garden.’ A thrill of excitement shimmied through her. ‘And let’s make it so spectacular that he’ll look down on it and feel proud.’
‘Oh yes!’ said Little. ‘And we can walk around it and think about how we loved him.’
‘It’s got to be full of white roses – bursting,’ said Mabel. ‘Perhaps Papa Sir’s ghost will come and live there and we can chat with him and hear about heaven.’
Suddenly Mama had the crazy look in her eyes that meant she was caught up in something and wouldn’t stop until it was done, like every Christmas when she did the puzzle with a thousand pieces and wouldn’t go to bed until it was finished. ‘A garden worthy of Paris. Beds and blooms and hedges – we shall have it all!’
‘I’m happy to be in charge of the plotting,’ said George. ‘The position of the flowerbeds and such. We’ll want it to be symmetrical, like the Versailles palace gardens just outside Paris. That’s where they signed the peace treaty. The lawn we have now is in the English style of the famous landscape architect Capability Brown – a gentle, sloping garden. It’s not what we’re after at all.’
‘Do you think you could design a raised platform, sort of like a stage, with a wooden floor so I can dance?’ Alice asked him.
‘Some structural engineering? Mm, yes, I’ll give that a shot.’
‘Could we start this afternoon?’ begged Mabel. ‘Please?’
‘It is a bit rainy,’ said Alice. ‘But next weekend, if it’s fine, let’s begin.’
As they set off for school the next morning, Alice felt completely, ridiculously happy. And topping it all off, today was August 4th, which was to be Children’s Day in Western Australia – a special day to celebrate everything they’d done in the war. Miss Annie had told them that every child in the country would get something to remember the victory, and as they gathered in the courtyard, the air was electric with chatter as people tried to guess what that something might be.
‘A pony,’ said Podger. ‘That’s what I heard.’
‘Sweets,’ said Nollie.
‘A tiny gun of our own, in case there’s another war,’ said Septimus.
But they had to wait to find out, for Miss Annie read out a speech from a man called Mr C.E.W. Bean. The same speech was to be read out at every school across the land, she told them. ‘I think the fallen soldiers would appreciate it if we did our best not to fidget,’ she said gravely, which made everyone instantly still, even though the speech was a long one. But Miss Annie was a stirring reader, and very good at dramatic pauses. As she got towards the end, her voice swelled and Alice thought she would burst with pride for all that their country – so big in size but little in people! – had achieved.
‘And while we offer thanks on their return to those who have won for us this right to make our country one of the greatest and our nation one of the happiest upon earth,’ Miss Annie read, ‘while the flags flutter and hands are waving, let us not forget that, to many of those to whom we owe the most, our thanks can never be given.’
There was lots of sniffling then, because lots of them had lost someone special – brothers, cousins, fathers, uncles. But Alice didn’t cry; she felt a big peace in her heart as she pictured Papa Sir’s acorn. She silently thanked him for giving up his life so they could be free.
When the speech was over, there were two surprises. The first was a medal for every child to remind them of the Great War. On one side was a beautiful lady with a flowing dress and two white doves.
‘I think that might be my nan,’ said Podger. ‘It looks just like h
er.’
On the other side, a soldier and a sailor held up a crown between them that was stamped with the word Victory, and below that it read, The Triumph of Liberty and Justice and The Peace of 1919. The medals were so silver and shiny that as the early winter sunlight bounced off them, they flashed like shooting stars. As she looked around, Alice watched everyone turning the medals over and over in their hands with wonder, as if they were suddenly rich.
‘I’ll keep this always,’ Jilly said to Alice, earnestly. ‘I’ll think of Papa Sir when I touch it, Alice.’
The second part of the treat was as marvellous as the first.
‘Sugar’s in short supply,’ Miss Annie reminded them. ‘So when you’re saying your prayers tonight, give thanks for the people who raised money to give every single child in our state these lovely treats today.’
The word ‘sugar’ set off squeals of delight. Miss Annie looked up and frowned, waiting for silence before she continued. ‘For each one of you, we have a pint of ginger beer, a quarter pound of boiled sweets, a quarter pound of biscuits and a fresh orange.’
‘Cor,’ said Septimus.
‘Told you,’ said Nollie.
‘This is the best school day ever,’ said Violet.
And as they queued up in two straight lines, Alice had to agree.
hen Alice returned from her dance class on Saturday morning, the front lawn, which Uncle Bear had always kept so tidy and green, had already been churned up in strange patches. Mama was calling out directions from the verandah in a huge floppy hat, and Pudding and Little were digging around the rose bushes by the front door with trowels. Mabel was knee-deep in a large hole, tossing piles of dirt high in the air with a shovel, and George was standing with a notebook and string, writing something down. They’d spent all week drawing up the plans, and had three separate arguments about where to put the bird baths.
‘Hello, Alice,’ Little called. ‘We’ve started! Doesn’t it look nice?’
‘Ye-es,’ said Alice uncertainly. ‘You’re not going to burst any pipes, are you, Mabel?’
George instructed Alice where to begin, and she soon found that she quite liked digging, though blisters were already bubbling up on her palms. Teddy came to sit on the verandah, and then the next time Alice looked up, he was lifting stones from the front wall and stacking them in Uncle Bear’s barrow.
When they stopped to have some lemon cordial, they all looked at each other, flushed and excited, and grinned. Already it felt a little bit magical.
But by four o’clock, none of them could move from where Little had set down the tea tray. Mama had gone up to rest after lunch while everyone else had worked right through.
‘My back is definitely broken,’ said Mabel. ‘I shall never walk again. George will have to carry me everywhere.’
‘Why me?’ said George wearily. ‘I couldn’t bear your chatter. I’d go mad.’
‘I’ll carry you,’ said Little loyally.
They all laughed, for Little struggled to carry Pudding, who was almost as tall as she was now.
‘Golly,’ said Alice. ‘We have been busy.’
‘You have indeed!’ said Miss Lillibet, who was suddenly behind them. ‘May I join in?’
Alice looked quickly over at Teddy, whose ears had turned pink to their tips. He was scuffing his toe against the dirt. He didn’t say anything to Miss Lillibet, and a flicker of disappointment passed over her face.
But Alice was determined now that nothing should get in the way of her plans to have them together. Too much depended on it. She handed Miss Lillibet the best trowel and said the first thing that came into her mind. ‘Of course. Actually, we’ll need you here almost every day because I’m planning a – a big event. In the garden. And it will need to be finished in time. So we definitely need your help.’
‘You never said a thing about that,’ said Mabel. ‘What kind of event? Can I sing at it?’
‘Um,’ said Alice.
‘Are you going to do a dance recital, Alice?’ asked Little hopefully. ‘On your pointe shoes? On the new stage? Please say yes.’
‘Oh?’ said Miss Lillibet. ‘Alice, you dark horse. What have you been working on?’
‘Er . . .’ said Alice. ‘I’ve made up my own dance about . . . about a sprite who has . . .’ Alice looked around and spied dear old Tatty in the corner of the garden, munching on some hyacinths. ‘Who has a goat. That can tap-dance.’
‘How intriguing,’ said Miss Lillibet warmly. ‘Well, I’d best get digging then. We wouldn’t want to delay your premiere.’
Perhaps it was saying a proper goodbye to Papa Sir, or perhaps it was the arrival of spring, or perhaps it was the relief of having Mama up and around again – Alice wasn’t sure. But there was something in the air, something rich and sweet and heady, that made each day feel more perfect than the last.
As the dusks got later, working out in the garden together became everyone’s favourite thing to do – even George’s. James ordered them plants and seeds and bulbs and young trees, which he and Uncle Bear would go and fetch. Each afternoon Alice and the others would rush home from school to see what had come, and they’d dig until it was too dark to see their own hands – even Pudding. Nobody did any homework, but it didn’t seem important. Sometimes Alice even gave up her bedtime stretches to stay out there with everyone around her, and the smell of turned earth, and the way their voices rang out in the starlight. To watch their plans become real, and dirt become pockets of luscious green, felt like watching a miracle happen in front of them, and nothing else mattered.
‘We’ll be ready for your concert soon,’ said Little happily one evening.
‘Mm,’ said Alice, wondering when she’d have to confess that there wasn’t to be a concert after all.
With each new hedge planted and terrace levelled, Mama seemed to grow stronger and healthier. At first Teddy only helped in little patches, but gradually he joined in more and more, until he was often out there from sunrise till sunset, and sometimes even deep into the night. As the garden became more beautiful, his hands became rougher, but the hard lines of his face softened and his hair grew long and curly again. Once Alice had even seen him offer to help James with the planks for the stage. But though he was cheerier and his temper wasn’t as short, he still wouldn’t paint; his face went dark and mean whenever anyone spoke of it.
Just as she’d promised, Miss Lillibet came each evening, her merry laugh ringing out into the orange sunsets, and she often ate supper with them. At first Teddy had ignored her, and Alice had felt cross about it. ‘What’s he playing at?’ she’d asked Mama, who she had told all about the tree-planting ceremony and the holding hands.
‘Alors! You are as impatient as Mabel,’ said Mama, smiling. ‘Teddy feels embarrassed, non? And confused. It was a day full of emotions. But you wait, ma fille – my daughter. Mark my words: this love will bloom as surely as our garden will blossom.’
And she was right.
Each evening, Miss Lillibet stayed later, digging with Teddy, until the night that Alice spied them from her bedroom window as she was drawing the curtains. They were sitting, side by side, on the low wall that Teddy had finished building just that day. The moon was full, and its beams fell onto the river in a puddle of silver. Miss Lillibet’s head was on Teddy’s shoulder, and they were looking out at the water. As Alice watched, he put his hand, gently but surely, on the back of her long neck, and left it there.
The next morning, Alice was out collecting Beaker’s eggs when she spied Teddy down on the bottom terrace, raking over some gravel. She put down her basket and flew along the zigzaggy paths to throw her arms around him.
‘What’s that for?’ Teddy asked, though he didn’t pull away.
‘Because I’m happy for you,’ said Alice, letting him go. ‘Aren’t you happy, Teddy? Now you’re in love?’
Teddy looked horrified. ‘What do you mean?’ he whispered.
Alice frowned. ‘You . . . and Miss Lillibet. Last night. And the moon
. I saw you. Together. On the wall.’
‘I shouldn’t have done that – oh, I knew I shouldn’t.’
‘Why not?’ asked Alice. ‘You love her, don’t you?’
‘More than anything,’ said Teddy, pacing up and down the gravel. ‘And that’s the problem. I never meant to make her care for me.’
‘She did already – she told me so,’ said Alice. ‘She has for ages. And now you can get married! When are you going to ask her?’
Teddy shook his head wildly and sank to his knees, covering his handsome face.
‘Don’t be frightened, Teddy. She’ll say yes for sure.’ Alice felt they’d come too far to just give up.
‘You don’t understand. You don’t know what I did in the war. You can’t see what’s inside of me now. If you could, you wouldn’t stand to be near me. And neither would Lily.’
‘Nothing in the world could make me love you any less – why won’t you believe that, Teddy?’ asked Alice. ‘And whatever you had to do, Miss Lillibet doesn’t care – she likes you just as you are. I’ve seen.’
‘Nobody could like me. I’m too sad,’ said Teddy, ‘and too broken.’
Alice felt as if shards of glass had been forced through her chest and into her heart. She had to turn and walk away.
Suddenly London seemed like the most unimportant thing in the world. All Alice wanted was for Teddy to find peace.
And as she walked up through the beautiful garden, through the rows of spring bulbs that were just poking through, around the neatly clipped hedges and up past the stage that George had designed just for her, Alice was struck by a plan so huge and daring, it might just work out.
olding chairs?’ asked Jilly as she read from the very long list that Alice had made as part of her big plan.