The Secret Intensity of Everyday Life (16 page)

BOOK: The Secret Intensity of Everyday Life
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An omelette and a glass of wine. Yes, it comes back to him now. The cookery writer Elizabeth David.

He goes down to the kitchen and turns on the television for company while he cooks. Some football game. He lets it run. The commentator’s voice fills the room, together with the baying of the crowd. He glances at the screen from time to time, but makes no attempt to follow the action. He cracks eggs and drinks wine and discovers he is forming a new idea about his play. He lets the idea grow without making any further demands on it, while he cooks and then eats his omelette, and drinks his wine.

His idea makes him laugh. Not for the BBC of course. Some small London theatre, the Bush or the Gate. Give it a shot. Nothing to lose.

He switches off the television and carries his glass through to the front room. He turns on his computer and opens the file that contains the latest version of his play. His idea requires him to change one character. Give her a new occupation. Change her name, too. To what?

He summons up the Find/Replace box and commands that the name SHANA FINN be replaced throughout with the name ELIZABETH DAVID. Then he starts to work on her dialogue. Elizabeth is a foul-mouthed young woman. In her defence, she is a single mother who needs the money. She charges a pound a minute. Her objective is to keep the audience on the hook for the duration of the play.

ELIZABETH— Hi there. In a moment, I’m going to bend over the sofa and let you fuck me from behind.

19

Alice Dickinson sits in her grandmother’s house staring out of the window.

What I don’t understand is why does Granny have to go on? Other people’s grannies give them treats and keep chocolate biscuits in a drawer and don’t go on at them with every single thing they do. I’m supposed to be perfect just because I’m her grandchild or something. So how come she’s not perfect? Which she is not. She’s cruel to her little dog in my opinion, hitting him when he yaps, and in general she’s always angry and she says things. But I don’t care. It’s all totally random.

‘Alice dear, don’t just sit there staring into space. Why don’t you read that book I found for you?’

Because that book you found for me is super dull and I don’t understand a word and Mum told me it’s sad in the end and I don’t like books with sad endings. Also as it happens I’m not staring into space I’m looking out of the window to see when Mum is coming.

‘Alice. I spoke to you.’

‘Did you, Granny?’

‘You know you heard me. You’re not deaf.’

‘Sorry, Granny.’

Sorry I’m not deaf. I wouldn’t mind being deaf. There’s not so much people say that’s worth hearing and there’s lots you’re better off not hearing.

‘You know, Alice, it’s not easy for me having you after school like this. I do think the very least you could do is speak when you’re spoken to.’

‘Yes, Granny.’

Now she’s going to do that noise she does, that’s like she has a problem breathing and may die soon. I wish she would. Pip, pip, pip, here is the news. Grannies are not the only ones having a hard life. You try being in 6B with Chloe Redknapp and Emma Biggs staring at you and not saying anything when you speak and saying to each other, ‘Did you hear a sound, Emma? I thought I heard a faraway squeaking.’ Actually I don’t care because Chloe and Emma don’t have friends they have slaves and I’m not the slave type.

‘If you’re not going to go on with
Black Beauty
then I think you can make yourself useful.’

Oh God she’s going to make me pick flowers or something. Hurry up, Mum. I know you said to be helpful to Granny because she’s helping us but you don’t know how awful it is. What I’d really like is for you to have a taxi take me home like Victoria Clemmer does and I’d wait there till you get back from work. I could make you your supper and have it waiting for you when you come in, when you’re always so tired and hungry. I can do pasta I’m pretty sure and I could certainly lay the table. You could ring me on your mobile when you’re nearly home and I’d have everything ready.

‘You could help me sort out the photographs. I’ve been meaning to do that for a long time. I think it would interest you. I have photographs of your mother when she was a little girl of your age.’

‘Actually, Granny, I’m feeling quite tired.’

‘Tired? Too tired to look at photographs?’

‘Well yes, really.’

Now she’s going to get all stressy, she’s making that shape with her mouth. I don’t care, it’s true, I am tired. And anyway I don’t want to see photographs of Mum when she was a girl because Granny will start telling me how Granddad left and that is so ultra boring.

‘I simply don’t know what to do about you, Alice. You have no interest in anything. Are you like this at school?’

‘Oh, yes.’

‘Doesn’t it make your teachers very cross?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘So why do you do it? I can’t believe you’re just a lazy, selfish, badly-brought-up little girl.’

‘I expect I am really.’

Just stop going on at me. I don’t care. Think what you like about me. Mum’ll come soon now. It’s Mum and me and all the rest of the world can blow itself up we don’t care. If Mum died I’d die too at once, I’d kill myself. Maybe if I ask her she’ll let me not go to school. Only who’d look after me when she’s away at work? She works for both of us, she’s brave and clever and I’ll do anything she asks me, even sit here for hours with Granny going on at me.

A car in the road outside. Yesss! Slowing down. Heaven heaven heaven soon.

‘I think that might be Elizabeth now.’

Everyone else calls her Liz. She’s her own daughter, why does she have to talk about her as if she’s a stranger?

‘Don’t be in such a rush, Alice. I need to have a word with your mother before you go.’

Car stopping. Car door opening, shutting. Quick footsteps on gravel. Mum always walks fast. Her hand on the front door handle—

‘Mum!’

‘Hallo, darling. There’s a welcome.’

Oh Mum I’ve missed you and I love you, I love the feel of your arms and the smell of your perfume and the way you go on holding me long after you’ve kissed me. If only it could be for ever.

‘Thanks for having her, Mummy. Has she had her supper?’

‘She’s been given supper, Elizabeth. But she’s not a good eater, you know.’

‘Oh, well. Never mind. Have you got your things, darling?’

Dear intelligent Mum knows not to ask questions even though Granny is absolutely bulging with all this random stuff she wants to say about me. That’s the dearest thing of all about Mum, you don’t need to say things to her, she just gets it.

‘Alice, go out into the garden for a moment, will you? I need to talk to your mother.’

No! Tell her no, Mum! She can’t! You’re tired. We can go home now.

‘Just very very quickly, Mummy. I’ve had a long day.’

Well if Granny thinks I’m not going to listen she can cha-cha-cha because this is about me and I’m entitled to defend myself. Just because I can’t see you doesn’t mean I can’t hear you. People are always making that mistake. All you have to do is stay very still and no one knows you’re there. That’s how I heard Chloe Redknapp saying Alice Dickinson’s a weirdo, let’s just pretend she isn’t there.

‘It’s Alice. What is the matter with her?’

‘Nothing, as far as I know.’

‘She’s surly. Uncooperative. Dull. Elizabeth, she does nothing! You must have noticed.’

‘She’s fine with me.’

You tell her, Mum. Granny’s the problem. I’m fine with you.

‘I do think you may be missing something here, Elizabeth. After all, I probably spend more hours in your daughter’s company than you do, because you choose to do a job—’

‘I don’t
choose
, Mummy. I have no
choice
. I must do a job or starve. There’s no one else to pay the bills.’

‘Yes, well, that was a choice you made, I seem to remember.’

‘Oh? What choice was that?’

Don’t shout, Mum. Don’t get angry. Let’s just go.

‘Was that the
choice
not to marry a man who had no wish to marry me and never even suggested it? Was it the
choice
to have a baby when I could have had an abortion?’

‘You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. Once these things start wrong they go on wrong and they end up wrong.’

‘They end up wrong?’

No Mum don’t be so hurt it doesn’t matter let’s just go home and be us and all the world be somewhere else.

‘You mean Alice is ending up wrong? Because if that’s what you mean then go on and say it.’

‘Don’t raise your voice to me, Elizabeth. That doesn’t get anywhere.’

‘SAY IT!’

I can’t bear you to be so upset Mum, let me hold you, let me kiss you, it’s all going to be all right, you see, I’m coming, I’m here—

‘Alice! Darling! There, darling, there. It’s nothing, nothing at all. We’ll go home now.’

See, Mum, see. I saved you. Go on holding me for ever. I’ll always save you.

‘What can I say, Elizabeth? If you raise your voice, certain people hear.’

‘Yes, all right, Mummy. I’m wrong as usual. I expect I started wrong. Now I’m tired and Alice has to get to bed so I think we’ll just go now. Say thank you to Granny, Alice.’

‘Thank you, Granny.’

She’s making that shape with her mouth but I don’t care I’ve got Mum and I’ll never let her go again.

The car is safety. I love our car.

‘Were you listening?’

‘Sort of. I couldn’t help it.’

‘I’d have listened.’

‘I’m glad you came, Mum.’

‘Darling. I’ll always come. You know that.’

‘Yes. I know that.’

Mum hates to be away from me and to have to work so hard, but she does it for me, because she loves me, and that means she’s so clever and brave that just thinking about it makes me want to cry. But I don’t cry just like Chloe and Emma can’t make me cry because that’s my way of helping Mum. I know how hard it is for her, and I won’t make it harder for her whatever they do to me. I only cried a bit today because I twisted my ankle in games and it hurt, that’s all, it was nothing to do with those others, they don’t bother me.

‘So are you hungry?’

‘A bit. Do you mind?’

‘What did she give you?’

‘Some meat. Some beans.’

‘Some meat? You funny old thing.’

‘I did try.’

‘You’d better have some pasta with me.’

Darling Mum. She simply understands. She’s bliss.

So we have this quiet supper together and she doesn’t go on at me in any way at all and I go to bed and everything’s just fine so why I start crying I don’t know. I’m not even feeling sad, I’m feeling happy. Mum’s sitting on my bed stroking my hair and telling me how she saw Dad today and how he wanted to know all about me which I bet is lies but it’s lies for love and I love her even more as I listen and she strokes my hair, and all at once I’m crying and crying and can’t stop myself.

‘Darling darling darling my own one my little one.’

‘It’s all right Mum, it’s nothing, I’m fine.’

But there are all these tears.

‘Tell me. Tell Mummy. I’ll make it better.’

‘No, really. Really.’

Crying and crying. Just hold me close, Mum. Hold me close for ever. I do love you so terribly much.

‘Is it school? Are you having problems at school?’

‘Not really. Nothing really.’

‘Tell me, my darling. Let me help you.’

‘Just some of the other girls, that’s all. They’re so stupid. I don’t care. I’m only crying because I love you.’

‘Tell me, my darling. What do they do?’

‘Sometimes they pretend I’m not there. That’s all. It’s nothing.’

‘They pretend you’re not there?’

‘Only some of the time.’

‘How many of the girls do this?’

‘Not all of them. Some of them.’

Not crying so much now. I mustn’t cry, it upsets darling Mum. I can bear anything in the world except hurting her.

‘See. I’m not crying any more. I’m fine.’

Don’t look so worried, Mum. You’re my beautiful mother. Everyone says so. Don’t look so serious.

‘They shouldn’t do that to you, Alice. That’s bullying.’

‘Oh, no. No one hurts me. I just hurt myself.’

‘You hurt yourself?’

‘I twisted my ankle in games. That’s what made me cry in the changing room. But it doesn’t hurt now. Look, I’ve stopped. Everything’s all right again.’

Oh those beautiful, sad eyes.

‘Who are you supposed to talk to, at school? Who’s your form teacher?’

‘Mr Strachan.’

‘Does he know this is going on?’

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