She found herself hoping she
would see that boy again as she walked back into the canteen. Sure enough, as
if her prayers had been answered, the boy was standing next to Selina, chatting
with her.
Alice felt her flushed cheeks
become hotter as she approached. She tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed the
boy standing there and sat down opposite Selina.
‘Oh, this is Alice,’ said
Selina, to the boy, who smiled that killer smile again and reached out a hand
to shake hers. Alice looked up at him and felt as if she was floating on air.
She could hardly control any of her movements. Somehow, she managed to shake
his hand.
‘I’m Andrew, nice to meet
you.’
‘You too,’ Alice said, almost
inaudibly. She then went back to eating her lunch.
Alice watched as Selina
chatted freely with Andrew, and wished she could too, but words eluded her.
Anything she did think of saying, she dismissed as being silly.
Shortly, Andrew announced
that he had to leave. ‘It was nice to meet you, Alice. I’m sure we’ll see each
other around.’
‘Yes,’ she managed to say,
feeling that it was too little too late, as he turned on his heels and walked
out of the room.
Selina explained that she and
Andrew used to go to the same secondary school, and she’d only just found out
he was at the same university. After that, the subject changed to talk of the
latest happenings in EastEnders, and thoughts of Andrew had to remain a fantasy
teasing Alice’s mind as she tried to concentrate on what Selina was saying.
From the first day she met him, Alice became slightly
obsessive in her feelings for Andrew. She would look out for him in the
university, but he was on a different course so their paths hardly ever
crossed. She did manage to see him a few times but had never really had a
proper conversation with him. That same tongue-tied feeling would overwhelm her
when he stopped to greet her, so the most there had really been between them
was a “hello” or a “how are you?” as they passed each other in the corridors.
Other times, they had smiled or waved from a distance.
It excited Alice to think that
Andrew liked her too. She had convinced herself that they would get together at
some stage and felt it was just a matter of time. She was always hopeful,
wishing that she and Andrew would get the chance to meet and talk properly. Her
mind drifted to thoughts of the upcoming party; perhaps that would be the opportunity
she had been waiting for.
She got out of bed and looked
through her wardrobe trying to decide what she would wear to the party. She
didn’t want to dress up. She never felt comfortable in anything too fancy.
Thinking back to Jenny’s suggestion, she decided she would take her advice and
wear her favourite black dress; it was made of crushed velvet, and she liked
the feel of the soft fabric against her skin.
As she held the dress in front
of her, looking in the mirror, she began to daydream about what she would say
to Andrew and what he would say to her. She improvised an imagined conversation
that she would have with him at the party. Her mood lifted as she fantasised
about their meeting.
Soon, she realised it was
getting late and she still hadn’t had any breakfast. She made her way into the
kitchen and prepared a boiled egg and some toast. As she crunched the toast,
she remembered that she had meant to visit her mother, to try to look for the
telephone directories.
After breakfast she got dressed
and ready to leave. As she walked towards the front door, she noticed the
newspaper lying on the living room table; the one with the photograph of Jane
Forester. She decided to take it with her.
***
Alice arrived at her mother’s flat at 12 noon. ‘Hi, Mum,’
she said, as she walked into the kitchen.
‘Oh, hello, dear. It’s nice to
see you. How are you?’ Her mother had been cleaning the kitchen cupboards but
was now looking at Alice, dishcloth in hand.
‘I’m fine.’ She couldn’t help
noticing that her mother’s face looked tired. This reminded her that the last
time they’d spoken, she had upset her by talking about her father.
‘Have you had breakfast, Alice?’
‘Yes.’
The conversation seemed to stop
there. Her mother turned around and continued cleaning the cupboards. Neither
Alice nor Stephanie could think of anything to say. Alice desperately wanted to
break the silence, but the only thing she could think of saying was, ‘Mum,
where do you keep your telephone directories?’ She didn’t think that would be a
good idea. Her mother would ask why she wanted them, and she would have to lie.
She had never been very good at lying to her mother.
Stephanie also wanted to say
something, but she was on edge, expecting Alice to start talking about her
father again. Stephanie ran all possible topics of conversation through her
mind, but they all seemed to come back to the same thing; somewhere along the
line, Alice would mention her father. It seemed that they had reached a point
of no return here. Alice had opened the can of worms and they were now
wriggling to get out.
She found Alice’s sudden
interest in her father difficult to bear, it had torn open old wounds,
rekindling distant memories that she had kept locked away at the back of her
mind, thinking them long forgotten. Things had moved so fast. Alice had given
her no warning that she would want to find her father, so Stephanie had not
been able to adjust or find a way around it. She filled a bucket with water and
began to mop the floor, trying in vain to wash away the thoughts in her mind at
the same time.
The silence became too much to
bear, with the undertone of thought that hovered around the room. Stephanie
didn’t know if she was just being paranoid, but she was sure Alice wanted to
ask more about her father. She wondered whether if she showed Alice a
photograph of Roger, it would somehow satisfy her curiosity. Maybe she just
wanted to know what he looked like. Feeling desperate, she had to ask: ‘Alice,
darling,’ she began.
Alice had her back to her
mother, sitting by the kitchen table pretending to read the
Sunday Mirror
Magazine
.
‘Alice, I have a confession to
make.’
‘That sounds interesting.’ Alice
turned around in her chair to face her.
‘When you asked me the other day
if I had photos of your father, I said I didn’t. Well, I do have a couple of
old photos of him. I was hoping you’d decide not to look for him; trying to
stop you.’ She paused, holding onto the mop handle as if for support. ‘For your
own good,’ she added. ‘I know that I probably can’t stop you if you’ve made up
your mind, but...’ She was having difficulty looking Alice in the eyes, ‘I was
hoping that maybe if I show you the photos, that would be enough for you. Maybe
you are just curious to see what he looks like? Anyway, I’ll try anything if
you’ll stop this nonsense about wanting to find him.’
This surprised Alice. Her mother
seemed almost afraid at the thought that she might find her father. What was so
terrible that she didn’t want her to have any contact with him? What deep, dark
secret would she uncover if she found him? There seemed to be something her
mother wasn’t telling her; something that would maybe affect their
relationship. Did her mother have an affair? Was that the reason her father had
left? All sorts of thoughts were parading around Alice’s mind. Now, rather than
being persuaded to stop looking for her father, she felt even more fuelled.
‘I don’t know what happened
between you two all those years ago. I mean, you’ve never told me the details;
and maybe I don’t really need to know the details, but he is still my dad. He
is
my dad, isn’t he?’ she asked, as another stray thought taunted her brain.
‘Yes, of course he is!’ said her
mother, agitated.
‘I just feel like I’m climbing a
mountain trying to explain this to you. It’s like you don’t think I’m capable
of making my own decisions. You had a mum and dad, and you knew who they were.
You’ve never been through what I’m going through at the moment. Try to put
yourself in my position for one minute. What if you didn’t know who your dad
was? Would you want to find out? It’s not just a picture of him I want. I want
to meet him, speak to him, find out about him.’
Stephanie sighed. She stood next
to the sink and folded her arms in front of her. ‘I have already realised I
can’t stop you doing this. I just needed to try because I am your mother and I
know what’s best for you.’ Again, she did not appear able to look Alice in the
eyes.
‘Okay, will you tell me the real
reason you are trying to stop me seeing him? There’s some big secret, isn’t
there?’
Stephanie’s mouth fell open.
Then, she shook her head and shrugged. Twisting around, she turned on the tap
and began putting on her washing up gloves. ‘I just don’t want to see you get
hurt. He might have a new wife, a new family.’
There was silence for a moment,
then Alice said, ‘I’m sorry, Mum, I can see how it would be hard for you to
find out that he is married again, maybe with other children. I’ve been selfish
only thinking of me.’
Stephanie turned around on the
spot to face Alice. ‘I couldn’t care less if he’s remarried with ten kids and
as happy as Larry. I am only thinking of you. What if he doesn’t want to know
you? What if he has a new family and he hasn’t told them about you? If you turn
up out of the blue it could do more harm than good.’
‘Well, I wasn’t intending to
turn up out of the blue. I was going to phone first. That’s why I came today to
find his number in your telephone directories.’
Stephanie frowned. ‘Oh, there
was me thinking you’ve come to visit me, and all along you’re just thinking
about finding your father.’ She took off her gloves and stormed out of the
kitchen.
Stephanie could feel her head
spinning. It was all out of her control now. Alice had made up her mind. She
wondered whether she should just tell her everything now. She took a deep
breath and walked towards her wardrobe in her bedroom. Reaching inside, she
took out the old shoe-box. When she removed the lid, the first thing she saw
was the picture of Roger holding Alice in his arms, smiling. His smile seemed
so genuine. He had been so happy.
They
had been so happy. How could she
have imagined, when she was taking this photograph on that bright sunny day all
those years ago, that within a few months her life would be change completely?
She would never have imagined that she would be holding this photograph in her
hands almost twenty years on not with happy memories but with memories of pain.
She took the photograph out of
the box along with the other two photographs of Roger. As she did so, she
wondered how long it would be before the other secret she had kept hidden for
years would have to be revealed.
Alice stood in the kitchen after her mother had walked
out, wondering whether she should follow her to the bedroom. Her eyes had
seemed sad, and Alice felt bad for upsetting her. Just then, she saw her
returning along the hallway holding what looked like bits of paper in her hand.
Stephanie held out the
photographs to Alice as she re-entered the kitchen and after handing them over,
she sat at the kitchen table, her head in her hands.
Alice placed the photographs on
the table and sat down next to her. ‘This is my dad?’
‘Yes.’
Alice stared at the
black-and-white photographs that were quite faded now. She recognised herself
as a baby as she had seen many photographs over the years that her mother had
shown her. Her father was holding her in his arms in one of the photographs,
smiling. His smile seemed so sincere. He was happy. She felt warmth and pride
as she looked at the picture, and couldn’t help smiling back. Then she looked
at each of the other photographs in turn, noticing how she had the same
almond-shaped eyes and wavy fair hair as her father.
‘These are nice,’ she said,
turning to smile at Stephanie. She noticed her eyes were red as if she were
about to cry.
Stephanie avoided her eyes and
looked at the kitchen table. ‘They were taken in happier times,’ was all she
said.
‘What’s the story behind this
picture,’ asked Alice, holding up the one where her father was holding her.
‘Oh, Alice, I would really
rather forget,’ Stephanie said bluntly, and stood up. ‘You can keep them.’
‘Mum, I just want you to know
that even though I’m looking for my dad, this won’t change anything between us.
You brought me up, he was never around. None of that is going to suddenly
change.’
‘But things
will
change.’
She sat opposite Alice and tears formed in her eyes. ‘There are things I
haven’t told you.’
Alice leaned forward,
interested. ‘Go on,’ she urged.
Stephanie sighed. She shook her
head and stood up, feeling suddenly out of control; she had almost started to
tell Alice everything. But how could she?
‘Mum, what haven’t you told me?’
She twisted around in her chair to see her mother wiping a tear from her eye,
as she stood at the kitchen sink.
‘I don’t think this is the right
time to talk about everything. Let’s just say I don’t want you to look for your
father. Aren’t you happy the way we are, just me and you? We don’t need anyone
else.’
‘Oh, Mum. We’ve been through
this.’
‘He’s a stranger to you,’
continued Stephanie, looking out of the kitchen window, as if lost in thought.
‘I don’t want my own dad to be a
stranger. And I might have brothers or sisters that I don’t know about.’ She
reached into her bag, which was hanging from her chair, and pulled out the
newspaper she had brought with her.
‘This is Wednesday’s newspaper.
I brought it around to show you. Remember I told you about the photograph in
the newspaper of the girl who was in the plane crash? She has the same surname
as my dad. Look, this is the picture.’ She placed the newspaper close to her
mother, so she could see the picture of Jane Forester.