Don't Ask Alice (3 page)

N
ext morning, Alice called over while I was still in my pyjamas. Mum let her in, and she came to my room and sat on the bed. She didn't say anything. When Alice was quiet i t was usually time to get worried. I looked at her carefully.

‘Everything OK?' I asked.

She shrugged.

‘S'pose so.'

‘Yesterday was great, wasn't it?' I said.

‘S'pose so.'

‘And didn't Melissa look totally stupid in that dress?'

‘S'pose so.'

‘And what about that crazy hairdo she had? Bet it didn't last the whole day.'

‘S'pose so.'

I waited, but Alice didn't seem to have anything else to say.

I grabbed my clothes and went to take a shower. When I came back, a few minutes later, Alice was still sitting in the same place. I was starting to feel nervous, so I tried again to make conversation.

‘Remember when you hid in this room that time last year, to try to make your mum come back to Limerick? That was really funny, wasn't it? I can't believe you stayed in here for so long …'

Alice nodded, but she didn't laugh like she usually did.

I sat beside her, and shook her arm.

‘Come on, Al,' I said. ‘It's me – Megan. Tell me. What's going on?'

Alice gave a big, long sigh.

‘It's Mum and Dad.'

I shouldn't really have been surprised. Since Veronica and Peter had split up, Alice had been really mixed up. It had been stupid of me to think that everything was all right, just because Alice was back living in Limerick again.

‘What about your mum and dad?' I asked.

‘Well, remember I told you before that I knew they'd never get back together?'

I nodded, and she continued,

‘I've changed my mind. I think maybe they could get together again. It's stupid for them to go on living like this.'

I wasn't sure what to say to this, so Alice kept talking,

‘You were there yesterday – you saw them. They were like best friends.'

This wasn't really true. What really happened was that for the first time in years, they hadn't
sounded like total enemies. I knew I couldn't say that to Alice though, so I said nothing.

Alice sat in silence for a minute then she jumped up as if we hadn't just had that conversation.

‘Come on,' she said. ‘Let's play Swingball. Best of five games. Bet I beat you.'

I got up and followed her into the garden, glad that the awkward moment had passed, and that Alice was back to her normal self.

Once again, I should have known better.

The first sign of something strange going on was that I actually beat Alice at Swingball, something I hadn't done since the time we were six years old and Alice was playing with a broken right arm. I was glad I had won, but it didn't feel right somehow – like Alice hadn't really been trying.

We went and sat in Rosie's playhouse. Alice grabbed my arm, and said, ‘Megan,' in a real breathless kind of way. I looked at her, and saw a funny glint in her eye. It was the old glint that
always made me very scared. The glint that meant she was plotting and scheming again. The glint that always led to trouble in the end.

I knew there was nothing I could do.

‘What?' I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.

Alice grinned at me.

‘I think it's time Dad got a girlfriend.'

Hello?

Where had that come from?

Maybe I hadn't heard her properly.

‘Pardon?'

She spoke slowly and clearly.

‘I said, I think it's time Dad got a girlfriend.'

I wondered if she'd hit her head with the Swingball bat or something.

I folded my arms and looked her in the eye, and tried not to notice the funny glint.

‘Alice O'Rourke,' I said. ‘What are you on? When you thought your mum had a boyfriend you nearly lost it. And a few minutes ago you said you thought your parents should get back
together, so why on earth do you think your dad should get a girlfriend?'

She grinned at me.

‘You're a clever girl, Megan. You're so clever you can do long multiplication without a calculator. You go figure it out.'

I tried to figure it out. Really I did. But it was hard to think straight because all I knew for sure was that Alice was up to something, and that, before too long I was going to find myself right up to my neck in her crazy plan.

After a minute I looked up at her.

‘I give up. This i s harder than long multiplication. This is even harder than long division. You're going to have to tell me – why should your dad get a girlfriend?'

Alice smiled at me

‘Because it would make Mum jealous.'

I still didn't understand.

Alice continued,

‘You know what Dad's like. He's always there. Always available. He's like an old pair of jeans
that you're comfortable in, but don't think about very much. If Dad suddenly got interested in someone else, it might make Mum pay a bit more attention to him. She might realise that leaving him was a mistake after all.'

I put my hands over my face. It did make sense – in a crazy kind of way. I didn't want to admit this to Alice, though. I didn't want to encourage her. I tried to sound casual.

‘Even if a girlfriend for your dad was a good idea. Where do you think this girlfriend is going to come from? Girlfriends don't grow on trees you know. And last time I checked you couldn't buy them on eBay.'

Alice sighed.

‘Ha, ha! Very funny.
Not
. Know what, Megan? You always make everything sound difficult.'

I laughed.

‘That's only because you make everything sound so easy.'

I was glad to see that she grinned back at me. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

Just then Mum called from the back door.

‘Megan, Alice, come on in. I've made you some delicious carrot and apple juice.'

Alice and I made faces at each other and got up to go inside. I knew the matter wasn't finished with though.

I knew that Alice was just revving up for another one of her crazy plans.

W
hen I called for Alice the next morning she didn't mention her mum, or her dad, or anything about girlfriends or secret plans. By the time we got to school, I was beginning to relax.

Maybe Alice had got sense overnight, I thought.

Maybe we could spend the next few weeks just
enjoying ourselves.

And maybe one day, purple and yellow stripy pigs will fly past my bedroom window singing ‘
Oops I did it again
'.

At lunchtime, just when I was looking forward to the two of us hanging out with Grace and Louise and swapping Confirmation stories, Alice dragged me off to a corner of the playground, away from everyone else. She pulled me behind a shed, and said in a real dramatic voice – ‘Miss O'Herlihy.'

I had no idea what she was on about.

‘What about Miss O'Herlihy?

‘She's perfect.'

I didn't say anything. Since when was Alice so interested in teachers?

Alice poked me in the arm.

‘Well?' she said. ‘What do you think, Meg? Isn't Miss O'Herlihy just totally perfect?'

I shrugged.

‘Well she's OK, I suppose – for a teacher. But I
wouldn't exactly say she's perfect. Remember that maths test last week? She marked two of my sums wrong even though they were right. And before Christmas she got really cross with Grace over something that wasn't her fault at all. And––'

Alice interrupted me.

‘Pay attention, Dork-head. I don't mean Miss O'Herlihy is perfect as a
teacher
. I mean she'd be a perfect girlfriend for Dad.'

I don't like Alice calling me Dork-head (well, I suppose I don't like anyone calling me Dork-head), but I decided to ignore it – I had more important things on my mind.

‘But Miss O'Herlihy is a teacher.'

Alice looked at me like I was totally stupid.

‘Well, duh. I
had
noticed that,' she said. ‘But teachers are people too.'

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

‘But your dad, and Miss O'Herlihy, that's like…. it's…. I mean… that's just gross.'

Alice folded her arms.

‘No it's not. And anyway, I don't want them to fall in love or anything. I'd just like it if they went out together once or twice. Just long enough for Mum to find out, and hopefully get a bit worried.'

This was starting to make sense, and I really didn't want that. It was all too weird for me. I decided to change direction.

‘Miss O'Herlihy probably has a boyfriend already.'

Alice shook her head.

‘Nah. Doubt it. If she did she wouldn't stay so late after school. She'd be rushing home to get ready for dates and stuff.'

I wasn't sure if Alice was right or not. All I knew was that if she tried to get her dad to go out with Miss O'Herlihy, things could turn very nasty. And I
so
did not want to be involved when it happened.

Alice giggled suddenly.

‘I know exactly what I'm going to do. It's simple.'

I sighed. Alice didn't seem to know the meaning of the word ‘simple'.

Alice went on,

‘I'm going to be so bold this afternoon, that Miss O'Herlihy will have to send for my parents. I'll fix it so only Dad comes in, and—'

I interrupted her, ‘—and your dad will say, “Thanks for telling me that my daughter is the boldest girl you've ever taught, and by the way, you've got beautiful eyes and what a pretty dress you're wearing today and will you go out with me?” I don't know, Al. Maybe it's just me, but I can't see that plan working very well.'

Alice stamped her foot.

‘OK, Smarty-Pants, so it's not the best plan ever. It's just the best plan I can think of right now. Can you do any better?'

I sighed again. I
sooo
did not want to be involved, but I couldn't let Alice continue with this stupid plan. After my trip to Dublin at mid-term, I knew exactly how bold Alice could be – and it wasn't pretty. She'd just end up in
loads and loads of trouble. And Miss O'Herlihy wouldn't send for her dad anyway. She never did stuff like that. She'd probably think of a totally disastrous punishment, like banning Alice from our graduation party or something.

Alice stamped her foot again. I wondered if I should tell her that stamping your foot is a bit immature for someone who will be going to secondary school in a few months time. Even Rosie doesn't stamp her foot any more, and she's only four.

Alice seemed to be waiting for an answer.

‘Well?' she said.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

Alice folded her arms and looked at me carefully.

‘OK,' she said. ‘You've got twenty-four hours to think of a way of getting Dad together with Miss O'Herlihy, and if you can't think of anything, I go back to plan A, and do something really bold.'

Now
what was I supposed to do?

This was awful. Just when everything seemed to be going so well, Alice had to start plotting and scheming again. I felt sorry for her, really I did. I knew it couldn't be much fun having your parents separated. I so wished that life around Alice could be simple again – just like it used to be.

The bell for end of lunchtime rang, and for once in my life, I was really glad to hear it. I started to walk towards our classroom. Alice raced after me, and grabbed my arm.

‘Twenty-four hours. OK?'

I nodded slowly.

‘OK.'

What else could I say?

T
wenty-four hours later, Alice and I were back in the same corner of the playground, behind the same shed. I felt like one of the lead characters in a very bad movie.

‘Well,' she said, ‘Let's hear your great plan.'

I played for time.

‘How do you know I have a great plan?'

She laughed.

‘I know you won't let me down. You never let
me down. You're my very best friend.'

Sometimes being Alice's best friend seemed like a very big responsibility, and an awful lot of hard work. I'd hardly slept the night before, racking my brains for a good plan. In the end, the plan I came up with wasn't really that good at all. It was just OK, but at least it was better than Alice's stupid idea.

Alice was waiting.

‘Well?' she said again.

I tried to sound confident. ‘You know how our class is going on that trip to Fota Wildlife Park next week?'

Alice nodded.

‘And Miss O'Herlihy said she'd like a parent or two to come along to help supervise?'

This time Alice was smiling as she nodded.

‘Why don't you ask your dad to come along?'

Alice hugged me.

‘That's brilliant. Dad and Miss O'Herlihy get to spend a whole day together, and I won't even have to get into trouble.'

Now I was starting to get enthusiastic. It wasn't like me.

‘And at the end of the day, when they are all friendly, you could tell your dad that you think Miss O'Herlihy fancies him, and you could persuade him to ask her out for coffee or something.'

Alice hugged me again.

‘Thanks Meg. That's brilliant. We'll get him to take her out somewhere really nice. I'll tell Mum all about it. She'll get jealous, so she'll dive in and try to save her marriage. Simple.'

I tried to smile. With Alice, nothing was ever simple. But still, maybe I could hope that this plan wouldn't turn out to be a
total
disaster.

Just before we went home that day, Miss O'Herlihy said,

‘Don't forget our trip to Fota is next Tuesday. Has anyone asked their mum or dad if they'd like to come along?'

Chloe put up her hand,

‘I asked my mum, Miss.'

I could see Miss O'Herlihy's face go kind of stiff. I knew why. Chloe's mum is always coming in to school causing trouble and giving out about stupid stuff.

‘And what did your mum say, Chloe?'

Chloe looked kind of sad.

‘She said she'd sooner eat her own leg than go on a bus trip with a gang of rowdy kids.'

Everyone laughed except Chloe. The poor girl didn't even realise that things like that really shouldn't be repeated to teachers.

Just then Alice put up her hand,

‘My dad said he'd love to come, Miss,' she said.

Miss O'Herlihy smiled at her.

‘That's very nice of him.'

Alice smiled back.

‘Well, he loves animals, so he'd be perfect. He could tell us all about them.'

I sighed. Why did Alice always have to get carried away? As far as I knew, her dad knew
nothing at all about animals. In all the time I'd known that family they'd never had as much as a goldfish as a pet. And once, when there was a mouse in their kitchen, Alice's dad jumped up on the table and screamed until Alice chased the mouse outside with the sweeping brush.

Miss O'Herlihy looked around the class.

‘Anyone else think their mum or dad would like to come with us?'

I knew for sure that my mum would love to come. It would be her perfect day. She'd bore everyone with talk about endangered animals, and she'd be a total embarrassment. So I put my head down and said nothing.

Mean Alice waited until I was in her dad's house that evening before surprising him.

She picked her moment when he was engrossed in a documentary on TV.

‘Dad?' she said.

He didn't even look up.

‘What, love?'

‘Do you think you could take a day off work next Tuesday?'

He still didn't look at her.

‘Well, I don't really know. Why? Is it for something important?'

Alice nodded.

‘Yes, it's something really, really, really important.'

He looked at her for a second.

‘What could be all that important?' he asked, before looking back at the TV.

‘It's our class trip to Fota Wildlife Park, and I told Miss O'Herlihy you'd come with us.'

Now he looked at her properly.

‘Why on earth did you do that?'

Alice put on a really sad face.

‘Because now that we're in sixth class, it's our last trip ever. And I missed most of the year because of being in Dublin. And Mum can't come because she's too busy. And it would make it really special for me if you came.'

Now Peter looked kind of sad too.

‘Well, maybe I could take the day off,' he said. ‘We're not all that busy at the moment. Are there other parents going?'

Alice nodded.

‘Oh, lots. Meg's dad is probably going too.'

I made a face at her behind Peter's back. Why did she have to drag my dad into it? My dad would be a bit like Chloe's mum, he'd probably prefer to eat his leg than come with us. Best not to say that to Peter, though. He looked at me.

‘Is your dad really going?' he asked.

I could feel my face going red.

‘Well, he hopes to,' I mumbled. ‘But he's not sure yet. He might have an important meeting.'

Just then the TV documentary got to an exciting bit, with loads of shouting and slamming doors. Alice stood between Peter and the television.

‘Well, Dad,' she said. ‘Will you come?'

He pushed her aside gently.

‘Sure, whatever, just move out of the way for a minute.'

Alice hugged him.

‘That's great, Dad. Thanks. You've really made my day.'

I followed Alice as she skipped out of the room. As soon as we were safely in the hall, she gave me a high-five.

‘Ha!' she said. ‘Step one completed successfully. Dad thinks he's just agreed to a day out. He doesn't know that it's the first step towards a whole new life for our family.'

I couldn't share her excitement. Suddenly everything seemed too complicated again. It was all going to end in tears.

I just knew it.

Then I had a horrible thought.

Imagine if Peter did ask Miss O'Herlihy out?

And imagine if she said yes?

And imagine if they got on really, really well?

And imagine if they fell in love?

How gross would that be?

Would this be the time that Alice finally went too far?

Anyway, there was nothing I could do. The plan had already started, and for once, I couldn't blame Alice.

This time it was already half my fault.