Alice Next Door (3 page)

Chapter five

I
give out a lot about my mum. I can’t help it really. All the other mums (except for Alice’s of course) seem to be kinder, and easier, and just more fun. It’s not fair. How come I got stuck with the crazy mum? The one who is on a
permanent
crusade? When all the other mums are fussing about their hair and their clothes, my
mumis busy trying to save the world, or the
universe
. She always thinks she’s right, and maybe she is, but I don’t care, I just wish she’d chill out and relax a bit.

Anyway, one Friday a few weeks later, she was her usual bossy self, and it seemed that she had found yet another way to make me seem like a total loser. Then, on the Saturday, she did something which was so completely and wonderfully out of character that I thought for a while that I’d died, and been reborn into a normal family.

Anyway, this is what happened. On Friday, when I got home from school, Mum was ranting and raving because there was a piece in the paper saying that someone is planning to build a new housing estate which will take a big chunk out of the park. Her face was all red, she was so cross.

‘Can you believe it, Megan? Can you?’

I shrugged. I didn’t care much either way. I’m too big for parks.

‘They are going to steal our park, our only
green area from us. How can we stand by and let them do this?’

She stopped and I realized that she was waiting for an answer. I made a big mistake.

‘Well, you always say the park is full of druggies. You never let me go there. Wouldn’t it be better if it was turned into a housing estate?’

Now Mum’s face nearly went purple. She actually hit her head with her hand.

‘My own daughter!What kind of a child have I raised? How can you suggest that we just concrete over our problems instead of dealing with them properly?’

I spoke in a small voice. ‘I was joking, Mum.’ I hadn’t been joking of course, but I thought that might calm her down. She didn’t even hear me though. She ran into the playroom and got one of Rosie’s old paintings. On the back she drew a plan of how the park could look if the wild areas were cleared, and if a keeper was employed to maintain it and scare the druggies away. By now
she had that fiery glint in her eyes that always makes me very, very nervous indeed. Then she ran to the computer and started printing out petition sheets. I started to feel sick. She was going to wave these around in public, and humiliate me one more time.

I went and stood behind her. ‘Mum, you can’t. I mean you wouldn’t…You wouldn’t go out and ask people to sign these? Would you?’

She gave me a scary kind of smile. ‘No, darling. I’m not going to go out to ask people to sign these. You are.’

I argued – of course I did. I argued for a long time. But it didn’t do me much good. Sometimes Mum just can’t be stopped, and it’s easier to give in than to argue any more. And so, some time later I found myself standing outside the local shop, clutching a clipboard.

It was the most embarrassing half hour of my entire life. A few mad old ladies came and signed in faint spidery writing. (They thought it was a
petition against bin charges, and I didn’t bother to explain that they were wrong.) I didn’t get many signatures after that, maybe because I spent most of the time with the clipboard under my coat. Just my luck though, when I did have it out, Melissa passed by, and even though I pulled my hat down over my eyes, she still saw me and came over with a big, false show of interest. She grabbed the clipboard from me, and gave her evil, loud laugh when she saw what it was. For a moment, I considered begging her not to tell anyone at school. Then I got sense. She’d just listen to the begging and then tell everybody anyway. You can’t appeal to the better nature of someone who doesn’t have one. I wished that Alice was there. Alice would have known what to do. But I just stood there with a stupid big red face, saying nothing, In the end, Melissa went away, but I could hear her laughing even after she went around the corner.

I felt like crying. I wanted to go home, but I
knew Mum would kill me for having done so badly. She’d probably have insisted on coming back down with me, and started jumping around and shouting, drawing attention to us, making things even worse.

Just then, Sandra, the nice woman who works in the shop, came out. She looked at the clipboard and smiled at me. ‘Has your mum asked you to do this?’

I nodded miserably.

‘Why don’t you leave this with me, and go for a walk for twenty minutes?’

She took the clipboard from me, and went back into the shop. I didn’t know what she was at, but by then I didn’t care, so I did what she said anyway. I walked ten times around the block, and when I came back, Sandra had collected three pages of signatures. I felt like hugging her, but resisted – just in case Melissa was still hanging around. Things were bad enough without being seen hugging nice shopkeepers in public.

When I got home, Mum was really pleased. She kept going on and on about how good it made her feel that I worked so hard to improve my environment, and that she felt like she was a success as a mother for having raised such a good, environmentally aware daughter, and how sorry she was for being cross with me earlier. She went on so long that I felt like throwing up. In the end her gushing did dry up, and I escaped to my room. Awhile later I could hear Mum on the phone in the hall. I figured she was phoning Dad to tell him the wonderful news about his
daughter
who was going to save the world. I turned up my radio, and drowned out Mum’s voice.

Ten minutes later she tapped on the door. For a moment I felt like hiding under the bed, but I knew she’d track me down anyway, so I just sat there, and said ‘come in’ in as unwelcoming a voice as I could manage.

She came in and sat beside me, and put one arm around my shoulder. I braced myself for
more praise, but she just said, ‘Megan, you’ve been so good that I’ve decided to treat you. Dad will mind Rosie tomorrow, and you and I are going to have a great day out.’

It was hard to be enthusiastic. Mum’s idea of a great day out wasn’t likely to be much fun for me. She was probably going to take me to a compost-making workshop or something. Still, it was only polite to ask.

‘Where are we going?’

She just gave me a huge grin and said. ‘Wait and see, Megan. Just you wait and see.’

It almost sounded like a threat.

Chapter six

N
ext morning, Mum called me at some horribly early hour. It was dark outside, and it felt like it was still the middle of the night.

She tapped me on the shoulder. ‘Come on, Megan, get up. We’re going on our trip.’

I moaned and turned over. ‘Aw, Mum. I’m tired. Can’t we go later?’ (
Or maybe never
.)

She laughed. ‘No, Megan, we can’t go later. Now get up and get dressed quickly, if you don’t
hurry we’ll miss the train.’

Suddenly I didn’t feel tired any more. I sat up in bed. Mum’s ‘special trips’ usually involved walking, or bikes, or once even a canoe journey. Mention of a train was good news. Maybe we were going to visit my cousins in Mallow. Or maybe she was going to take me to Cork and buy me some vaguely fashionable clothes.

I got dressed as quickly as possible, and ate all my porridge without complaining.

When we were driving to the station, I kept asking, but Mum still wouldn’t tell me where we were going, and it was only when we got to the ticket window that I heard the magic words ‘An adult and a child day return to Dublin.’

I didn’t dare to hope. ‘Mum, could I…? I mean….. Are we…?’

She didn’t answer. She spent ages putting her change in her purse, and checking that her bag was zipped up safely, and then she turned to me with a big smile. ‘Are we what?’

I was so excited I could hardly get the words out. ‘Are we going to see Alice?’

She shook her head and the hopes I hadn’t dared to hope vanished into the cold,
diesel-scented
air. Then Mum continued. ‘No,
we
aren’t going to see Alice. But
you
are. I’m going
shopping
, and you get to spend the day with Alice.’

I still didn’t want to hope. This had to be too good to be true. ‘But…. what about her music lessons, and her dad? Isn’t she spending the day with him? What if she’s not even there? She might be gone out somewhere.’

Mum smiled again. She’s really quite pretty when she smiles. She should do it more often. ‘Don’t worry, love. It’s all arranged. I spoke to her mother yesterday. Alice’s music lesson will be over by the time we get there, and her dad isn’t going up until tomorrow. Now hurry up or we’ll miss the train.’

I was so happy that I gave her a huge hug, and in my mind, I forgave her for the petition thing
the day before. I didn’t tell her that, though, I didn’t want her getting ideas.

The train journey seemed to take forever. Mum proved that she hadn’t totally lost it, so instead of tea and chocolate muffins, I got a healthy snack of sunflower seeds and organic apple juice. I didn’t care though.

Next we got a taxi to Alice’s new apartment. I rang the buzzer, and could hardly stop myself from jumping up and down while I waited for an answer. Then I heard Alice’s voice. ‘Who is it?’ It was funny talking to a metal box. ‘It’s me. I mean, Megan.’

She laughed. ‘Well, come on in. It’s the second floor.’ There was a clicking noise, and the door opened. Mum kissed me goodbye, and promised to be back to collect me at half past four. I looked at my watch. That was five and a half hours. Heaven. Then I ran up the stairs as fast as if there was a whole crowd of mad
park-petitioners
after me.

Alice met me halfway up. We both stopped. I felt shy, which was really stupid, since I was only meeting my very best friend in the whole world who I hadn’t seen for five long weeks. She looked kind of shy as well, so I didn’t feel too bad. Then her mum’s voice floated down the stairs. ‘Alice O’Rourke, were you by any chance born in a field? Get up here and close that door.’

We both laughed, and all of a sudden everything was OK. Alice put her arm over my shoulder. ‘Come on up, Megan. Welcome to my new life.’

When we got into the apartment, Alice’s mum came out into the hallway and shook my hand. ‘Why, hello Megan. How very nice to see you.’ She didn’t look like she meant it. As usual she was dressed like a model, all slinky clothes and high-heeled pointy boots.

Then Jamie came over. He looked smaller than I remembered. ‘Did you bring sweets?’
I shook my head, and he immediately lost
interest
in me. Alice’s mum put on her coat, and
bullied Jamie into his. ‘Now, Alice. You know I’m trusting you, so you have to be on your best behaviour. I’ve left you some sandwiches in the fridge. I’ll be back at five.’

Then with a click-click of her very high heels she was gone. I could hardly believe it. I grinned at Alice and she grinned at me. Then she took me by the hand and pulled me into her bedroom. She lay on her bed, and I sat on a huge purple
beanbag
, and we said all the silly things we hadn’t been able to say for weeks. She laughed at all my funny stories about Melissa, and she made a face when I told her about the petition the day before.

Then she told me about her school. It sounded just like any other school – pretty boring. Then I noticed that she looked really sad.

‘What’s wrong, Al? Is it awful?’

She shook her head. ‘Not really. The teachers are OK. And some of the girls are quite nice. It’s just that I keep wishing that I was back in
Limerick
, that’s all. I miss Dad. I miss you. Sometimes I
think I even miss Melissa.’

I didn’t know what to say. Alice was usually so positive, I didn’t know how to cope with this new, sad girl.

Then she shook her head like she was trying to push away all the bad thoughts. She jumped up and smiled. ‘Anyway, enough moaning. Let’s go out for something to eat.’

I was shocked. I’d never been out to eat
without
an adult before. ‘But didn’t your mum say she’s left us some food?’

Alice laughed. ‘Oh, yeah, that. Let’s check it out.’ She led me back into the kitchen, and pulled open the fridge door. She took out a plate
covered
in foil. She peeled back the foil and revealed a stack of small white sandwiches with the crusts cut off. She put her nose down and sniffed. ‘Yuck! Tuna. I’m not eating these.’

I actually quite like tuna sandwiches, especially when I don’t have to eat the crusts, but I didn’t like to say so.

She threw them into the bin, and covered them up with an old newspaper. Then she grabbed her coat and led me to the hallway. ‘Come on, Megan. It’s time for your tour.’

We had a lovely few hours. We went to a fast food restaurant and had a giant bag of chips. Then we bought a monster ice-cream each. Then we hung around a shopping centre, looking at the clothes and the CDs and the jewellery. We bumped into a girl from Alice’s class, Janine, and we chatted for a few minutes. She seemed nice and friendly, but I felt so jealous it gave me a pain in my head. I couldn’t bear the thought of Alice having a best friend who wasn’t me. When she’d gone, I tried to act casual. ‘Do you like her?’

Alice thought for a moment. ‘Yeah. She’s nice.’

It was like a knife twisting in my heart. Then Alice continued. ‘But she’s not half as nice as you.’ I felt a lot better then.

After that, we went for a walk, and got more chips and then it was four o’clock.

We went back to Alice’s apartment. Alice rooted around the kitchen and found some chocolate biscuits. We took them into her room, but I didn’t feel like eating them. I felt kind of sick after all the chips. I sat on the beanbag again, and played with the zip of my jacket. I didn’t want to go home. I didn’t want to leave Alice behind in this place that wasn’t home. She was very quiet. She was looking out the window with her shoulders all sort of hunched over. I went over and stood beside her. There was no garden outside – just an ugly old car park. I felt like crying, but that would have been really mean. Alice had much more reason to cry than I had.

She made a sudden kind of a croaky noise. I felt sick. I hadn’t seen Alice cry since she was about six. I wondered if I should hug her. Then I looked at her, and saw that she wasn’t crying. She was laughing. As I watched, she turned to me and laughed out loud. For a minute I thought that she had gone completely mad. She looked
like she had completely lost it.

‘What is it, Al? What’s so funny?’

‘I’ll tell you what’s so funny, Megan. I’ve just had the most wonderful idea ever. I have a plan.’

‘What kind of plan?’

She laughed again. ‘A plan to put an end to all this. A plan so you and I can be together again.’

Now I knew she’d gone mad. Nothing would persuade her mother to move back to Limerick. I felt sorry for Alice again. She’d have to tell me about her plan, and I’d have to be the one to tell her all the reasons it wouldn’t work. Sometimes, being the sensible one in a friendship was very hard work.

I sighed. ‘So tell me about your plan.’

She shook her head. ‘No, I won’t. You’ll only tell me it won’t work.’

I went red, but she didn’t seem to notice. She went on talking. ‘But it will work, I promise. I just have to work out a few details.’

Now I was interested. ‘Please, Al, tell me.’

She shook her head. ‘No, Meg. Sorry. Just trust me for once. I’ll tell you when I see you again.’

‘But when will that be? I know Mum won’t bring me up here again.’

She shrugged. ‘Well, sometime soon, Mum will have to let me go to Limerick. Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon, and everything will be fine, I promise. All will be revealed the next time I see you.’

Alice was good at keeping secrets. I knew there was no point in pushing her. And also, I knew that underneath all her laughing and joking, she really was very unhappy. She missed her dad, and she missed her old life. She was my best friend, and it was my duty to help her. I had a funny feeling that however mad or crazy her plan was, I’d end up helping her to put it into action.

Just then, I saw a taxi pulling up outside. Mum got out and walked to the entrance of the apartment building. The buzzer in the hall went. Alice walked me downstairs. She chatted to Mum for a minute, and then winked at me when Mum
wasn’t looking. Then Mum checked her watch. ‘Sorry, girls, but we have to go. I don’t want to miss the train.’

Alice and I had a quick hug, and then I got into the taxi with Mum. I looked back as we drove off. Alice was still grinning madly, and for one precious minute, I really believed that she could fix everything.