Putting Alice Back Together

‘Come on,’ said Dan as he let me go. ‘Let’s go and have a drink.’

‘I can’t, I’m driving.’

‘You can have one,’ Dan said, but I shook my head and the three of us found a seat as he went to the bar.

I never got that—I mean, what is the point of having one?

Why would you sit there nursing one gin and tonic when you know you can’t have another?

I’d rather just go without.

‘What time do you have to go through?’ Roz asked, and Nicole glanced at her watch.

‘Not for another hour.’

My lips pursed a touch—all that carry-on and we had to sit here for an hour.

Dan was up at the bar, ordering the drinks, and I was thinking that maybe I should have one after all, because sitting here trying to make small talk, trying to pretend that in fifty-six minutes we wouldn’t be saying goodbye with that awful music hitting every nerve, was more than I could bear.

You know those two-way mirrors at airports?

I assume you think, like I used to, that customs officers are standing behind them, checking you out. Watching how you walk in case you’ve got half a kilo of crack cocaine concealed in your privates.

Well, they’re not.

Instead they’re standing there pissing themselves laughing as they choose the next song and watch the public’s reaction.

I swear that’s what they’re doing.

It’s bad enough your loved ones are leaving, but to have to sit and listen to that…

I love music, I love songs, I love lyrics, I love notes, and every last one at the departure lounge is, I’m sure, designed to encourage suicide.

And that won’t end it though, oh, no, because suicide’s a sin, so you’ll end up in hell. A hell I’ve just upgraded, because not only will you perpetually be saying goodbye to your loved ones, they’ll have the music that most gets to you, playing over and over, as you do.

‘Here you go.’ Dan hadn’t listened to me and had got me my one gin and tonic and I was glad that he had.

I glanced at the clock.

Fifty-three minutes now.

Oh, and they were having fun in customs, they were really cranking it up.

We’d had Mike and the Mechanics, ‘The Living Years’.

And then the customs officers were all nudging and grinning behind those two-way mirrors because they’d unearthed an ancient New Seekers song, and, lucky me, it’s the one Mum played over and over when Dad left—’I Wanna Go Back’.

And I was really trying to smile and chat to Nicole, but I wanted to go back too.

‘I Wanna Go Back’. I couldn’t help it, I was starting to cry.

‘It’ll be sodding “Leaving on a Jet Plane” next!’ Dan grinned and put his arm around me.

‘I’m going to go through,’ Nic said, because she could see I was upset and, as she doesn’t smoke, she was quite happy to be on the other side trying out perfume in the duty free. I could tell Roz was relieved because she wanted to get outside for a fag.

And suddenly we were there at the silver doors and it’s the place I hate most on this earth.

One of my self-help books said that the universe repeats our life lessons till we’ve learnt them, or something like that. Well, I’d learnt it, thanks. I hated goodbyes. I hated this very spot, but over and over I found myself there. I hated saying goodbye to Mum, kissing her and knowing when I saw her again she’d be two years older.

If I ever saw her again.

‘It’s six weeks, Alice.’ Nicole hugged me and tried to reassure me, and I hugged her back and didn’t want to let her go.

It wasn’t six weeks.

She was going through those doors and again everything was changing.

She was changing.

She wasn’t coming back, or if she did come back it would just be to leave, and in my heart of hearts I knew that.

‘Be nice to Hugh,’ she warned. ‘You will remember to pick him up? I’m sorry Mum didn’t send a photo. You can just hold up a sign.’

I wouldn’t need a sign.

Ginger with glasses and a cousin of Nicole’s.

Oh, I wouldn’t need a sign.

She cuddled Roz.

Roz, all practical and stoic, reminded me of my mum the day Bonny had left for Australia. Overweight and trying to smile.

Lisa was right, it had unsettled me.

I didn’t want to remember that day.

But I was standing there doing just that: Bonny and Lex leaving for Australia. Mum spilling out of her shoes and skirt, trying to smile and failing, because Bonny was her baby, Bonny was her favourite and she had to let her go.

Nic had one of those hand luggage bags on wheels and she headed to the door, jaunty and shiny and ready. We waved her off and thank God Dan’s arms were around me as I did the right thing and forced a smile and made myself wave.

But I kept remembering.

Dad there with Lucy, his new girlfriend, dainty and pregnant.

Bonny bawled her eyes out and Lex hugged me, just briefly, even though I knew he didn’t want to, but it would have looked odd if he’d missed me out. I could feel the contempt and disgust as he reluctantly embraced me.

‘Take care, Alice.’ That was all he said. Lex still wasn’t able to look me in the eye and I couldn’t look at him either.