Chapter 30
THIRTY
ALICE
Alice was happy to sit back this evening and enjoy watching those around her have a good time.
She generally enjoyed holding court and contributing to the evening a lot more, but this evening she still felt a little tired.
Maybe all that sea air the other day had taken it out of her, although there was no denying that something else was troubling her.
‘Are you okay, Alice?’ asked Mark as he placed some freshly cooked pork and red onion sausages on to the table.
‘Yes, I’m perfectly fine.’ Alice smiled.
‘A little tired maybe, it’s been rather a long day.
’ She didn’t need to tell him that she had recently felt a little sleepier than usual and her breathing felt a little laboured.
Not when they were having such a lovely time together.
And when she could see the seeds of friendship, and more, growing in this group after she’d planted them at the dinner.
It was also bothering her somewhat that she had lost a gold necklace that George had bought her for their golden wedding anniversary.
She tried to tell her herself that things like jewellery were unimportant and merely possessions.
You could not take them with you when you departed this earth.
Even so, her neck felt strangely bare when she touched it this morning, and it had upset her having to replace the gold jewellery with a glass necklace.
She had scoured the flat this morning, but it was nowhere to be seen.
It puzzled her why it would become loose after all these years and slip from her neck.
It had subdued her mood far more than she might have expected it to, but she would soon bounce back as she always did.
There were terrible things happening in the world right now, so in the great scheme of things losing a necklace was not so tragic, was it? she told herself.
When Mark put some music on later, and Maisie and her little friend danced around the garden, Alice’s mood was instantly lifted. They waved their arms in the air and danced with such unabandoned joy that she found herself clapping along to the music and tapping her feet.
Dear little Maisie pulled Alice to her feet then and Alice found her rhythm and began to dance. Soon enough she was laughing. Children were such a tonic, she reminded herself as Carol stood up and joined in the dancing too.
Soon enough everyone was on their feet, and the look of sheer delight on the children’s faces was something to behold.
The sound of their giggling rang around the garden, thrilled that the adults were joining in, especially when Mark did the ‘Gangnam Style’ dance, that had everyone in fits of laughter.
When the adults sat down, and Mark announced in a whisper to the adults that he was ‘buggered’ after all the dancing, Maisie did a perfect cartwheel and Jess clapped loudly.
‘Well done, Maisie! She has been practising that for so long,’ she revealed to the other guests.
‘What an achievement,’ said Alice. ‘It is certainly true that practice makes perfect.’
‘Did I keep my legs straight, Mummy?’ asked Maisie.
‘You did! Alice is right, all of that practice has paid off.’ She smiled at her daughter.
Later, as the night began to close in, and the friends grazed on the last of the buffet, they sat with drinks listening to the sound of the pretty fountain gently trickling. A row of solar lights along the garden fence had begun to quietly glow in the semi-darkness.
Talk turned to dancing, and of course the fact that Alice had been a Tiller Girl became the topic of conversation.
‘That must have been exciting,’ said Carol as she sipped a glass of white wine. ‘I would have loved to have been a dancer, but I don’t think I have the build. My legs are too short.’ She laughed. ‘Not like Jess’s, lucky thing.’
‘And yet I had no desire to be a dancer.’ Jess smiled. ‘Such is life.’
‘Oh, it was an exciting life,’ agreed Alice.
‘I have met some wonderful people. But you know, the most interesting people I have met have not been famous people, but ordinary folk. Like the man who owned a kiosk near the Palladium, where me and the girls would buy cigarettes,’ she reflected.
‘A habit I abandoned years ago, I hasten to add. He would tell us the most wonderful tales of his homeland.’
‘Where was he from?’ asked Jess with interest.
‘He came from Morocco. I bombarded him with questions about his homeland and one evening he invited me and a friend to his family home. It was filled with such warmth and love, and of course the food was amazing. We marvelled at all the bright colours and spicy flavours which were completely new to us, but it was wonderful. The company is far more important than the food, though. I enjoyed that evening far more than the one with Tony Bennett at the Ivy in London.’
‘You’re kidding.’ Carol looked stunned.
‘No really. It wasn’t uncommon for some of the performers to take a shine to some of us Tiller Girls and ask us out to dinner after the show.
I never felt physically attracted to anyone, though, apart from one but I knew he was married.
’ She took a sip of her drink. She would never reveal his identity but remembered feeling sorry for his wife.
‘I bet you could write a book,’ said Jess.
‘I imagine I could,’ agreed Alice. ‘Although maybe not write it myself, but I would certainly have the tales for a ghost writer to jot down my memoirs.’
Maybe she ought to have done that, thought Alice. Leave behind a legacy. Her younger years were pretty exciting, she supposed, but maybe she was not famous enough to write an autobiography that anyone would be interested in reading.
As darkness descended the group headed inside and made themselves comfortable in Mark’s lounge, that had a huge corner sofa. She tried not to think of how many more gatherings there would be like this. And not just with the future of Wisteria House unclear. Better just to live for today.