Chapter 8
Alice
Things fell apart as soon as the campers arrived.
Briar had taken on most of the camper mediations, as promised, but she’d been conveniently pulled away by mysterious phone calls during others.
Alice was trying to be accommodating, but mediations had always been hard for her.
She froze when facing a simple argument.
Even friendly debates amongst their high school friend group would often make her leave the room.
She didn’t understand how these campers found the energy to argue so consistently over nothing, and she frequently wanted to shout that they should wait until they were adults with real problems. Which she, of course, refrained from doing, both because she was an adult who was responsible for their well-being and because she was a little scared of them.
When Alice entered the bedroom late on the third day of the session, she was wondering whether she could keep going at this rate. Meanwhile, Briar was the picture of coziness, snuggled in bed with a book.
‘Hey,’ Briar said, and Alice immediately wanted to forget whatever sort of tentative truce the two of them had constructed. She knew that tone, and she knew that it meant more bad news for her.
‘What is it?’ she asked, trying not to sound overly antagonistic. It was hard for her to believe that Briar didn’t find any pleasure in watching her squirm.
‘There’s a kid waiting for you in the office,’ Briar said, gazing innocently up at her from behind the book.
‘And you couldn’t deal with them yourself?’ Alice asked, already turning back to the door in defeat.
‘He’s homesick for England,’ Briar said. ‘I thought you’d be better suited to talk to him about it.’
She supposed, in a way, Briar was right.
Maybe Alice was homesick, if that’s what you called being sick with longing for the simple life she’d left behind in London.
A small, sunless bedroom, a basement desk at a lab and a best friend who she’d never had a catastrophic falling out with all sounded ideal at the moment.
If not thrilling, her life in London was at least manageable.
The highs and lows of the past few weeks were both foreign and unsustainable.
‘Okay,’ Alice said, and waited until she was in the hallway to let out her sigh.
She opened the door to the office with trepidation.
A kid who couldn’t have been more than eight sat in a chair across from the desk, a stuffed rabbit tucked under his arm, anxiously nibbling on the collar of his shirt. He didn’t look up when Alice came in.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m Violet. Nice to meet you.’
‘Hullo, Violet,’ the kid said, still staring straight ahead.
She settled into the chair behind the desk. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Robin.’
‘That’s a nice name,’ she said, hoping a few compliments might be enough to fix his problems. Briar would have been able to cheer him up immediately, but Alice had no idea how to go about it.
‘Yes,’ he said, his eyes meeting hers. ‘My mum named me after the bird. It’s her favorite.’
She nodded. ‘A great choice. And what’s your favorite bird?’
He scrunched up his face. ‘I don’t like birds. They’re scary.’
‘Oh,’ Alice said. No wonder he wanted to leave – the constant birdsong was one of Alice’s favorite things about camp. She’d forgotten after years in the city how comforting waking to the sounds of nature was. ‘Why?’ she couldn’t help but ask.
‘The feet,’ he said, as though that explained anything.
‘Right…’ Alice said slowly. ‘Well, Briar told me you’re homesick? Do you want to talk about it?’
‘I’m not homesick.’
‘Oh?’ Alice asked. Maybe Briar had misunderstood and she could just talk to Robin about something not bird-related for a few minutes then send him on his way.
‘I’m going home, so that’s probably what she meant,’ he explained.
Alice breathed out. ‘I live in England too, did you know that?’ He shook his head. ‘So I understand how it’s difficult to go from being there to being here.’ What she couldn’t tell the eight-year-old was how impossible she was personally finding the transition.
‘I hate it here,’ he said.
‘Is there anything in particular that’s bothering you?’ Alice asked. ‘Maybe I can help you make some adjustments to make camp more fun.’
Robin shook his head, his voice pitching up. ‘I don’t like the woods. I don’t like the other boys. I don’t like the birds. I don’t like—’
‘Alright,’ Alice said, holding up a hand before he worked himself into hysterics. ‘Let’s take on one thing at a time. The woods and the birds I’m afraid I can’t change for you, but what about the other boys? What’s wrong with them?’
‘They aren’t very nice to me. I think they want me to leave so that one of their friends can take my place in the bunk.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Alice said. ‘It’s your first year at camp, right?
’ He nodded. ‘It always takes a little while to make friends. I came to camp for the first time when I was around your age, and it was so big and scary. The first week, I felt like I didn’t have any friends. But do you want to know what happened?’
‘I guess,’ he said dubiously.
‘I met my best mate that summer. She gave me a friendship bracelet at the final campfire and we promised we’d be friends forever.’
Alice still remembered that moment so clearly, the fire transforming Briar’s hair into the same gold as sunshine, her rosy cheeks and shy smile. It had been the best moment of Alice’s life, the first time since her parents’ divorce that she’d felt like maybe everything would be fine.
‘That’s nice. You’re not wearing any friendship bracelets, though,’ he noted.
‘Well… it’s back at my flat.’ She knew exactly where it was, in a box of trinkets under her bed she never touched but also never threw away. ‘I didn’t want to lose it at camp,’ she lied.
Robin looked suspicious. ‘But she still knows you’re mates, even though you’re not wearing the bracelet?’
‘Yes,’ Alice said, through gritted teeth. She didn’t know how she’d managed to mess this conversation up to the point that an eight-year-old was interrogating her about her failing social life. ‘So just give it a few more days, yeah? Are there any boys here who are nice?’
‘Only my brother, Timmy,’ Robin said glumly. ‘But he has to be nice to me.’
Alice nodded. She’d always wished she’d had a sibling, someone built in to share the burden of life with her, someone to help her to understand her parents better. It was one of the many reasons she’d envied Briar growing up.
‘Use that to your advantage, okay? Spend some time with him when you’re feeling excluded by the other boys. And we’ll meet at the end of the week to see how it’s going. Can you do that for me?’
Robin frowned.
‘If you do it, I’ll call your mom, okay?’ Alice said, putting out her pinkie finger. ‘And we’ll see what she says about you coming home.’
‘Really?’ Robin’s eyes lit up, and he linked his pinkie with hers.
She rifled through the desk drawer and found her stash of Cadbury Dairy Milk. ‘In the meantime, here’s a sweet treat to remind you of home.’
Robin looked at her like she’d performed a magic trick. ‘Thanks, Violet.’
It was the first time all week that Alice felt like she’d done something right.
This was the part she loved, helping kids find a home at camp, the way that Susan had helped her all those years ago.
Camp had always been an escape for her, the place she felt safe and the place she found community.
If she could make it that for Robin, the hell of the past few days would have been worth it.
She stood. ‘Briar will take you to your bunk, okay? I’ll go get her.’
She went into the bedroom. ‘Can you bring Robin back?’ she asked. ‘I can’t look at him anymore, he’s too sad.’
‘Fine,’ Briar said, getting up and following Alice into the hallway, where Robin was waiting.
‘See you tomorrow, Robin,’ Alice promised.
‘What’s this?’ Robin asked, reaching up to place a deliberate finger on Briar’s forearm tattoo.
‘Oh,’ Briar said, her cheeks turning pink and giving Alice a petty sense of satisfaction. ‘It’s a tattoo. Do you know what a tattoo is? It’s like a drawing, but perm—’
‘I know what a tattoo is,’ Robin interrupted. ‘What’s it meant to be?’
Briar seemed to be deliberately not looking at Alice. ‘It’s a briar, like my name.’
‘A sensitive briar,’ Alice corrected, referring to the flower’s proper name. ‘Like she is.’
Briar shot her an inscrutable look, then said, ‘It’s important to remember that tattoos are permanent and you shouldn’t make that decision lightly. Don’t get something inked on your skin unless you’re certain it’s what you want forever.’
And then, without looking at Alice again, she herded Robin outside.
Alice groaned as she scrolled through the myriad of emails she’d received since the start of the session.
It was inevitable that she would have neglected her real life in favor of camp, but she also knew she needed to be more attentive to Jeremy in case something important came up.
He’d sent her a few job postings and she shot back a quick response: I don’t have the required years of experience or desired publication credits for these roles.
Jeremy was nothing if not overly ambitious on Alice’s behalf, believing in her more than anyone other than Susan ever had.
But he didn’t seem to understand that Alice wasn’t ready for this next step, not yet.
It wasn’t something she felt like she could be honest with him about – it was something she’d only ever admitted to Susan.
Next, she opened an email from her father, which contained the link to a newly published article about moss classification and the note:
A colleague in biology sent this to me – thought it might interest. Could you confirm you received the wedding invitation?
Cordially,
David