Alice had sat tight in her chair, hands trapped under sticky bare legs, knees clamped together, holding a smile that made her cheeks ache, as Eleanor and Lucian hurled the stick Eleanor had been thrashing the hedge with earlier back and forth to each other. Everyone had forgotten they were having tea. Alice’s slice of cake sat implacably on her plate admonishing her for needing a fork. She wanted to squish it up and scatter the crumbs in the flowerbed. She waited. Cups of tea and half-drunk glasses of orange juice waited with her. Everyone else had been eating with fingers. Broken chunks of cake, a spattering of sultanas and cherry lay on the plates and were scattered on the tablecloth. The Ramsays were messy eaters. Alice’s mouth was dry, and she shivered despite the warm sunlight. Her shaking hand would not lift her glass without spilling the juice. She bitterly wished she had gone home earlier while Eleanor was hiding in the hedge. Now the thought of looking for wild flowers was further punishment.
Alice dimly recognised it would be better if she could join in and crawl along the grass like a snake, or swing like a monkey from the tree, but she was a crumpled doll with sticks for arms and legs, and a torn dress clean on that morning.
Doctor Ramsay was coming.
He trod quietly across the grass, his white shirt ballooning out over his jeans, and sank back down into his cane armchair with a loud sigh saying something about Mrs Ramsay having sunstroke. Alice didn’t know whether to respond, he wasn’t looking at her. Then she reeled in a hot wave of alarm. He had forgotten the fork. She had been relying on it to save her. Now she didn’t know what to do about the cake. She should have gone home in his car while she had the chance. It was ruder to have asked than to have eaten with fingers. It had showed up the Ramsays and spoiled their tea party.
Alice pulled her hands out from under her legs and furtively examined them under the table. White and red creases ran across her skin as if she was old. She pretended her thumbs were her friends, curling her fingers into a fist. Two thumbs: two friends. She wasn’t alone. Suddenly Gina was back. Something flashed in her hand. Alice breathed out and thanked her three times which made Doctor Ramsay glance at her with a look of concern. Although Alice had been happy that Gina had brought the fork, she was terribly frightened now of what it might do to Lucian and Eleanor, who were seeing who could throw the stick highest in the air. They could both catch it easily, which made the fork become heavy in her hand and she forgot momentarily how to hold it properly. Without turning round, Gina yelled at them to come back. Alice was impressed when they raced over and collapsed into their chairs. She had come to think of them as untameable animals.
As Alice nibbled her cake in manageable forkfuls, dabbing her mouth with her handkerchief because they had forgotten serviettes, she was hemmed in by fingers. Fingers licked by smacking tongues, fingers picking noses and scratching rude bits, fingers wiped across shorts, flicking sultanas off the table with clicks and taps and dabbling in wet saucers. Eleanor and Lucian got the giggles again. This time Alice joined in until she breathed in crumbs and was nearly sick. Doctor Ramsay rubbed and patted her back and made her sip water from a glass that he held while talking, although she couldn’t catch the words. Alice was sorry for Doctor Ramsay and Gina for having to be in the Ramsay family. Afterwards, she told her parents about choking and the kind Doctor Ramsay coming to the rescue. But she didn’t mention about the fork. She knew they would have been pleased that she had asked, because it showed the Ramsays she was well brought up. This thought made her hot with shame for good manners shrank to nothing in comparison to playing jazz music on the piano, doing funny voices or curing people. Her mother was no more than a polite and tidy stranger as Alice assured her that yes, she had thanked Doctor Ramsay properly for looking after her and she did realise how lucky she was that he was there.
Eight
When he ruffled her hair, Alice felt a lurch of sickness and closed her eyes. The jelly teddy bear lay patiently: a sacrificial lamb that she must eat limb by limb, sucking slowly, eye by chocolate eye, crunching his sugar teeth and marshmallow ears without mercy. He was her long promised treat for being in the chorus of her school play. But after tea at the Ramsays’ followed by her Mum’s shepherd’s pie, Alice wasn’t hungry and she was angry that her mother hadn’t expected this and saved it for a better time. Besides Alice had only been in the chorus and it was all over now.
‘How’s my princess?’ He bent over and kissed the top of her head with a loud smacking sound and moved his hand over her scalp in crawly circles. She smiled weakly as he smoothed her hair in case by touching it he had messed it up. Leaning over he examined the bear.
‘Is that all for me?’ He smacked his lips. She studied the tick-shaped mark on his chin. It showed up more in the afternoons when his face was scratchy. ‘Mmmm. Yum, yum.’
‘It’s not yours.’
She trotted out words. She didn’t want jokes today. She didn’t want the bear either.
‘’Course it is.’ His finger got ready to pluck out an eye. ‘Raspberry, my favourite.’
‘It’s strawberry.’ She was properly cross. ‘Have it if you want to.’
‘All right, keep your hair on.’ He scrabbled it roughly. She imagined him snatching it off like a wig and shied away.
‘Alice!’ Now her Dad was annoyed. He liked her to be nice. ‘What do you say?’
Her mouth went upwards, her lips tightened and she made herself smile. ‘You can have some if you like.’
‘You know that’s not what I meant.’ But he was nicer again.
‘Sorry.’
‘That’s better. Don’t get spoiled with all these treats. Spending every day with that Doctor Ramsay and his family. Don’t get ideas.’ Her Dad’s voice reminded her of his new car, shiny metal with sharp edges. Only it wasn’t really new. Uncle John had owned it first.
Alice couldn’t tell him she had already had ideas. She had lost the girl who would have loved a strawberry jelly bear and taken ages to eat it, making each mouthful last. The treat was for the wrong person. Her grandad was coming over from Newhaven later. He would be angry if she left any. He hated waste. Once she had refused to eat her supper when he was visiting because her head ached and her skin tingled. He had shouted so loud that his eyes bulged like gobstoppers. Her Dad had shouted back at him. Alice had sat and listened as her grandad scraped the food off her plate on to his own and ate it with a loud clicking.
She made an investigatory split in the bear’s chest with her spoon. It did not cry as she scooped out its heart and slipped it between her lips. She squashed the mixture against the roof of her mouth with her tongue and closing her eyes, willed herself to swallow. She assessed her plate and decided that if she could do the same thing – maybe fifteen times – it would all be over and she could go to bed.
Alice started to eat when she heard her Dad clonk his shoes down on the newspaper in the hall, ready for cleaning. She felt in the pocket of her dress for the jewel. It was still there. She felt better. It was the nicest present she had been given by anyone. Perhaps it was possible for them to be friends. Now she really was a princess. She would keep it secret as she had promised. Already she had planned to hide it in her ice-skating boots at the bottom of her toy cupboard. She was concentrating on ballet now so there was no chance that her Mum would touch her boots.