The Long Road Ahead

Despite all her underlying anxieties, Alice couldn’t stop herself enjoying her surroundings later as she sat beside Sam in the dining room. As usual, Edward Carmichael was at the head of the table, ready to carve the roasted ducklings which Betty had just brought in from the kitchen, and with all four of the twins there too, laughing and talking and teasing each other, there was a tangible party atmosphere. Although none of the twins was identical, their likenesses were undeniable. The boys had dark, almost jet-black hair like the professor’s, and both were tall and well-built, while Rose and Margaret were quite short and dainty, their fair hair falling in long natural waves, their permanently pleasant expressions so reminiscent of Helena’s.

Margaret looked across the table at Alice. ‘So, are there going to be hundreds of guests at this wedding of the century?’ she said. ‘I imagine that you have masses of friends you’ll want to invite, Alice.’

Alice shook her head quickly. ‘Not masses, no,’ she said, counting quickly in her head. ‘No more than…twenty, or so…I should think.’ (Could she even manage to think of twenty?)

‘Oh well, Sam will make up for that, no doubt,’ Margaret said. ‘Still, we might as well make it a good one while we’re about it. And think of the presents you’ll be given!’ She sat back in her chair and folded her arms. ‘And I suppose you’ll be asking us to be your bridesmaids? Well, if so, all I ask is that my dress is not pink and frilly. I don’t care what colour you choose as long as it’s not pink. Or frilly.’

Alice tried to look unsurprised at the remark – but she honestly hadn’t thought about who she might ask to be her bridesmaids…though of course, apart from Fay and Evie, it would be natural to ask Sam’s sisters, especially as Alice had been their nanny. She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. ‘Of course I would love you to be my bridesmaids,’ she said firmly, as if there had never been any doubt, ‘and don’t worry – I won’t expect you to wear anything pink, Margaret.’ Margaret had always been the tomboy of the family.

‘I quite like pink,’ Rose said.

‘It doesn’t really matter what either of you like,’ the professor said, looking at them quizzically, ‘or indeed who she would like to be her bridesmaids, because from what I am led to believe, things like that are entirely the wishes of the bride. So’ – he frowned at his daughters sternly – ‘do not attempt to bully Alice into anything she does not want. This is her wedding, not yours.’

Well, Alice thought, that’s one thing settled. I’m having at least two bridesmaids I hadn’t even thought about, and they won’t be wearing pink.

The professor glanced over at Alice, clearing his throat. ‘Sam and I have had one or two words regarding the reception, Alice,’ he said, ‘and we were wondering if you would like us to arrange that part of things? I know one or two venues which might be suitable – and as you’re no longer living locally, it might be rather a burden for you to be thinking about that yourself.’

Alice nodded, relieved. ‘Oh yes…thank you, Professor,’ she said. ‘I would be so grateful if you’d make that decision for me.’ She looked away for a moment. Would there ever come a time when she didn’t call Sam’s father “Professor”? The name she and her mother had always used – as all the staff had. The name she was comfortable with. But once she was Sam’s wife, it would be different – wouldn’t it? What on earth should she call Edward then? She could never call him Papa, like she’d always addressed her father. There was only one man in her life who would ever be that. Alice took another sip from her glass. Every thought that crossed her mind seemed full of imponderables.

By now, as they all watched Edward begin to carve the ducklings, Rose said –

‘Have you given in your notice to the firm yet, Alice? From everything we’ve heard they’re going to miss you, aren’t they?’

Alice coloured up. She didn’t want to talk about that, because she would have to mention the fact that once she left, she’d be homeless…and she knew very well that she would be expected to come and live here, in Clifton, before the wedding. But Alice was determined she was not going to do that. This was still Sam’s home, not hers. Somehow or other, she would find something, somewhere to lay her head, until she was married.

‘No, I haven’t told my company yet,’ she said, glancing over at Rose. ‘There’s plenty of time. I shall certainly have to stay and help my replacement learn the ropes,’ she added, ‘so I expect to be in Dorchester for the foreseeable future.’

‘But I wonder where you will live once you’re married,’ Rose went on. ‘Do you expect to be in London next year, Sam?’

‘No idea,’ Sam replied, as if the question was unimportant. ‘But whereever I’m sent, I can assure you that I shall find a suitable home for my wife.’

‘Well, I wish you the best of luck with that,’ Margaret said. ‘The housing shortage is terrible since the war…there are squatters everywhere…homeless people taking over anything they can get their hands and feet on.’

Sam winked across at his sister. ‘Don’t worry about us, Margaret,’ he said. ‘Alice and I will not be squatting anywhere, I promise you that.’

Margaret was in a teasing mood. ‘Well, the very least you might have to do is to share with others, Sam… I mean…share accommodation. Take your turn in the bathroom, things like that.’ She looked up at the ceiling for more inspiration. Then – ‘Or why not apply for one of the pre-fabs everyone’s talking about? They’re really practical and cosy, so I’ve been told. Still – if “make do and mend” is one of the slogans, “shut up and share” should apply as well, shouldn’t it?’

‘And I think you should shut up, too, now, Margaret,’ Sam said easily, beginning to pass the plates of duckling along the table. ‘This is not a weekend for negative thoughts.’

‘Look, it’s almost two years since the war ended,’ Margaret went on, completely ignoring her brother’s remark, ‘and we’re still on rationing! And now, would you believe it, bread is now on coupons, as well! Bread! One of the few things that were never rationed during the war.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘The fact is, the country’s broke, flat broke,’ she said, ‘and we might as well accept it.’

Changing the subject, David said, ‘So, Dad…what do you make of old Nye Bevan’s National Health Service? Do you think it’ll work?’

Edward didn’t look up from what he was doing. ‘We shall just have to see,’ he said. ‘One has to applaud the principle that there will be free treatment for all – rich or poor – at the point of need. Don’t you agree?’ He looked up briefly. ‘Of course there has always been a health service for those who couldn’t afford to pay, but they had to go and ask for it. And people are proud. Many refused to go with the begging bowl, and just suffered in silence, putting up with all their aches and pains.’ He finished carving and sat down, glancing along the table at his children. ‘I’m afraid the general feeling is that when this does all take place next year, the flood gates will open and the work load will significantly increase. Still,’ he shrugged, ‘I am not a politician. I am one of the foot soldiers, and I will go on as usual, doing what I know I do best. And I am still, apparently, allowed my private patients,’ he added.

As Alice watched Betty bustling in and out, bringing in the vegetable dishes, she half-stood to go and help her. She, and her mother had always helped out when necessary, and even tonight on this rather special family occasion, Alice felt guilty at just sitting here waiting to be served. But Sam touched her arm.

‘Don’t spoil it for her,’ he said quietly, nodding in Betty’s direction, ‘she’s in her element doing all this for us. She doesn’t get the chance so often these days.’ He paused, adding quietly, ‘And just look at my father… I can see he’s happy…really happy tonight. Happy we’re all here, happy that you’re here, Alice…his sense of loss is still acute…he finds it so hard to accept my mother’s absence…so hard to be here alone.’

With their meat served, everyone began to enjoy their meal. And although Edward and Sam had tried to persuade Betty to sit and eat hers with them as well – on this very special family occasion – she had refused, insisting there were still things to attend to in the kitchen, but that she would eat the dessert with them later. And, Alice thought, it must largely be only the professor who normally Betty had to cater for now, with perhaps an occasional guest that he might invite. Or maybe one or other of the twins might decide to come home for a good meal sometimes…all four of them had got their degrees at Bristol University so had been local then, but now David and John were in London studying to be lawyers, while Rose and Margaret seemed to be having a rather nice time doing nothing in particular as far as Alice could make out. Though both had, apparently, been earning some pocket money helping one of their university friends start a restaurant somewhere up north. When Alice learned of all this, she’d quietly marvelled at the difference in her lifestyle and theirs. It would have been unthinkable not to find a job and earn her own living. Not to be responsible for herself, not to pay her own way. But that had been, and always would be, the difference in her status and theirs. The difference between the rich and the poor. Even though the professor had worked tirelessly at the Infirmary for most of his life, he had come from a moneyed background, had had a privileged education. Now Sam was having the same experience – the only one to follow his father into the medical profession. The Carmichaels had never known poverty – which was why Helena had spent so much time with her charities for the under-privileged. Alice would never forget the generous food parcels, the treats and delicacies and comforts Helena often sent down to the Hotwells folk – especially at Christmas time. Hotwells was where Alice had lived with her parents before Alice and her mother had moved to live in Clifton. And after Ada’s sudden and unexpected death, Alice became nanny to the children when she’d been just fourteen years old. Ada, and Alice, had always been treated as members of the family, and had never stopped being grateful for it.

Much later, after the professor had gone to bed and David and John had taken their sisters out for a drink, Alice and Sam sat together on the sofa in the morning room. She had nestled into him, her head on his shoulder, and now she looked up and smiled dreamily.

‘D’you remember the last time – well I think it was the last time – that we sat here together like this?’ she said. ‘The day you proposed?’

Sam turned to kiss the top of her head. ‘Of course I remember.’

Alice stayed there looking up at him, admiring all over again the strong profile, the broad forehead, the thick, shining dark copper hair – somewhat tousled tonight, she observed, where he’d been running his hands through it.

‘It was naughty of you, teasing me like that,’ she said lightly. ‘Taking me so completely by surprise.’

‘I did explain at the time that I’d never asked a woman to marry me before,’ he murmured, ‘and I thought that by suggesting you came home to discuss a business matter with me was a sure-fire way of you agreeing to turn up.’ He closed his lips over hers before going on, then –

‘I still cannot believe that you thought I was talking about my cousin, about Millicent,’ he said. ‘When I asked if you thought it was right to ask a woman, any woman, to marry me, knowing the sort of work I was doing…the commitment…the demands of the job…I wanted to find out what you really thought about someone filling the post as my wife. And your answer in the positive gave me the courage to propose to you.’ He pulled her into him closer. ‘I can’t imagine how I would have felt if you’d turned me down,’ he added.

Alice didn’t answer for a moment, enjoying these few minutes of cosy intimacy in the comfort of this familiar, luxurious room, glad that the cloud she’d sensed hanging over his head at the beginning of the day seemed to have lifted. Perhaps the jollity of the occasion had cheered him up, though he had seemed unusually pensive more than once during the meal. As if he was distracted. She sighed inwardly. It must be difficult – if not impossible – to shut yourself off from anything concerning life and death – especially in infants – and his variance of mood was something she was going to have to deal with in the future. To accept and understand. It was part of the promise she had made to him, after all, in this very room. There was no going back. She didn’t want to go back.

Their glasses of wine, almost untouched, were there on the small table beside them, and Sam released her gently before passing Alice hers, and reaching for his own.

‘I know we’ve had one or two toasts already tonight,’ he said, ‘but this is another one, a private one.’ He clinked his glass against hers. ‘To you and me. Us two. And we’re going to make sure that we go on together – for ever.’ He paused. ‘Agreed?’

‘Agreed,’ Alice murmured, sipping.

Then – as if prompted by something outside herself, Alice said –

‘Sam…there’s something we haven’t discussed, or even mentioned, yet,’ she began, and he cut in –

‘Fire away,’ he said easily. ‘Is this an ultimatum about how much housekeeping money – or dress allowance – you’re expecting to receive from me in the future?’ He winked at her. ‘Best to get these things cleared up straightaway I suppose,’ he added.

Alice smiled quickly – he’d given her the perfect cue.

‘No, it’s not,’ she said. ‘It’s about what you are expecting from me. As a wife, I mean.’ She sipped again. ‘Do you expect me to be at home all the time, after we’re married – whether you’re there or not?’

The question seemed to surprise him, and he paused for a second. ‘Well – I’m not going to keep you under lock and key, if that’s what you mean,’ he said. ‘Why – have you got something exciting planned?’

‘Hardly exciting,’ Alice replied. Then – ‘It’s just that…I can’t bear the thought of sitting around doing nothing all day, Sam,’ she said, ‘and that’s what’ll happen, won’t it? Wherever we live, it’ll just be us two to cook and clean for, and when you’re on night duty I shall be alone for perhaps forty-eight hours or more… I don’t mind being alone, I mind being alone with nothing to do. I mind that very much.’

This was something that obviously hadn’t crossed his mind. ‘So – what might you want to do?’ he said.

‘Well – possibly to go back to work – you know, like before,’ Alice said. ‘I worked very hard to become good at the job, to be successful, and I really enjoy it. It’s interesting meeting different people all the time, and helping them make decisions about one of the most important matters they’ll usually ever have to consider. Certainly the most money they’ll probably ever be involved with. The buying or selling of their home can be a very anxious time.’

Sam shrugged briefly. ‘Well, I’d only ever imagined being the sole support of my wife,’ he admitted, ‘to provide for you, and allow you some time for yourself – which I think you thoroughly deserve.’ He half-smiled. ‘Hopefully, there is never likely to be any shortage of money for us…’

Alice cut him short. ‘Oh it’s not about the money, Sam! It’s about…’ Her voice trailed off for a second. She was going to say it was about being independent, not financially, but about being free to live in the outside world, rather than the sometimes cloying one of domesticity. Instead, she said casually, ‘It’s just a thought, that’s all, you know, for the future…that if I find I have too much time on my hands I could go back into business at some point.’

Sam drank from his glass. ‘I’d only ever want you to be happy, Alice,’ he said, not looking at her.

Alice glanced back him shrewdly. And that’s all I want for you, too, Sam, she thought. And when you’re not happy, I want you to confide in me…not treat me like someone who hasn’t the right to know what’s going on in your head.