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Alice to the Rescue Page 4


  When I got home, I let myself in through the back door. For once, Mum wasn’t in the kitchen. I was glad, because I soooo didn’t feel like one of her endless question sessions.

  Maybe I could get to my room and pretend to be really busy with homework.

  Maybe she’d leave me in peace for once.

  I had safely tiptoed half way across the hall when Rosie appeared out of nowhere.

  ‘Hi, Megan,’ she said. ‘You look very sad. Do you want me to play Snap with you?’

  I shook my head, not trusting myself to answer.

  ‘Monopoly?’

  I shook my head again.

  ‘Why are you sad?’ she asked.

  How could I explain?

  ‘Did you fall down? Have you a pain in your tummy?’

  Why couldn’t it be as simple as that?

  Then I spoke without really thinking.

  ‘Rosie, who is your best friend at playschool?’

  She thought for a minute and then grinned.

  ‘Charlie,’ she said. ‘He’s funny. He—’

  I interrupted her, ‘What would you do if Charlie wanted to go away and leave you all on your own?’

  Rosie didn’t have to think very hard about this one.

  ‘I would kick him very hard and make him cry,’ she said. ‘And then I would tell him not to go away from me.’

  I had to smile.

  What would Alice do if I went over to her place and started kicking her?

  Would it make her change her mind about going to France?

  Or would it make her call the police?

  I leaned on the banisters and gave a big long sigh.

  Why hadn’t I paid more attention when Alice was plotting and scheming?

  If she were in my place now, she’d know exactly what to do.

  She’d have hundreds of mad ideas, and the only difficulty would be deciding which one to go for.

  Alice is the one I always turn to for help, but what good was that to me now?

  Hey, Alice I have a bit of a problem I need your help with. Only problem is – the problem is you.

  How pathetic was that?

  Suddenly Rosie put her arms around me. She’s so small that she was sort of hugging my legs, with her face pressed up against the hard canvas of my school-bag.

  ‘Don’t be sad, Megan,’ she said.

  For one second I managed to hold it together – and then I lost it. Tears started to pour down my face, and I began to sob loudly.

  Rosie pulled away from me in shock. She’s not used to seeing me crying. She looked desperately up the stairs. I knew she was going to call Mum. I knew I had to stop her, but I was crying too much.

  As I struggled to catch my breath, Rosie screamed at the top of her voice.

  ‘Muuuuum! Megan is very sad. She’s crying. I think you’d better come down here!’

  I felt like punching Rosie, which was a bit mean, since she was only trying to be nice. She stood in the hall, waiting for Mum to come and make everything all right again.

  I heard Mum’s footsteps at the top of the stairs, and I raced into my room and threw myself on to my bed, ready for the inquisition.

  Rosie ran in after me. She sat on the edge of my bed and held my hand.

  ‘Rosie make you all better,’ she said, not knowing that she was promising the impossible.

  Seconds later, Mum was sitting on the bed too.

  ‘What is it Megan?’ she asked in a concerned voice. ‘Are you sick? Has something happened at school?’

  For a while I was too busy sobbing to answer. Mum sat there, rubbing my back, and waiting for me to finish.

  After a while, it felt like I had cried every tear in my body. My throat hurt, and my eyes were all scratchy. I sat up and tried to stop the horrible sobbing noise that kept on escaping from my sore throat.

  It was all too much for poor Rosie. She jumped off the bed.

  ‘I’m going to play with my dollies,’ she said, and she ran out of the room.

  Mum was still stroking my back.

  ‘Tell me, Megan,’ she said. ‘Just be brave and tell me. Nothing can be this bad.’

  Easy for her to say.

  She doesn’t need friends.

  All she cares about are carrots and broccoli and things that can’t hurt you.

  Mum was still waiting for me to answer.

  And then, because I knew she’d wait for a hundred years if necessary, I told her why I was crying.

  ‘It’s Alice,’ I said. ‘She’s won the essay competition. She’s going to France. And she doesn’t even care about leaving me. She’s going to be gone for four whole months. I’m going to miss her so much. What am I going to do without Alice for four whole months?’

  As I said the last few words, I started to cry again.

  Then Mum was quiet for a long time – such a long time that I began to get seriously worried. Mum doesn’t do quiet, it really isn’t her style.

  At last she spoke.

  ‘Is that it, Megan?’ she said. ‘Have you told me everything?’

  I nodded.

  I felt a small bit better now that I’d told Mum exactly how I felt. In a funny way I was a bit like Rosie – part of me still believed that Mum could make everything all right again.

  I wiped my eyes and wondered what Mum was going to do next.

  Maybe she’d go and make me some hot chocolate and I could snuggle up in bed and enjoy its sweet, warm milkiness.

  Maybe I could be snuggly and safe and cosy for a while.

  Maybe I could forget all about Alice, and the competition, and the trip to France.

  Just as I was imagining the sweet hot chocolate slipping down my sore throat, Mum stopped stroking my back. She sat up very straight.

  ‘Megan, darling, don’t you think that maybe you’re being a small bit selfish?’ she said.

  This took me so much by surprise that I stopped sobbing at once.

  Mum is supposed to be on my side.

  She’s always supposed to be on my side.

  Even when I’m wrong she’s supposed to be on my side.

  It’s her job.

  So what on earth was going on here?

  Mum didn’t wait for my answer.

  ‘Try and think of all the things that you have that Alice doesn’t,’ she said.

  Well that wasn’t too hard.

  Alice hasn’t got a crazy mum, who embarrasses her at every opportunity.

  Alice doesn’t have to endure organic porridge every morning, followed by loads of super-healthy organic meals with brown things in them.

  She doesn’t have wardrobes full of lumpy knitted scarves and jumpers, and freaky home-made skirts.

  But I knew what Mum meant.

  Alice’s parents don’t live together any more.

  Alice has to divide her time between her dad who lives next door to us, and her mum, who lives in an apartment up the road.

  Things are a lot better now, but Alice has had a very tough time over the past year and a half.

  How had I managed to forget that?

  I could feel my cheeks becoming warm and pink. Mum was right. I was being selfish.

  Mum smiled at me, to show me that she wasn’t cross.

  ‘I know you’re sad,’ she said. ‘Your best friend is going away, so it’s only to be expected. But think what a great opportunity this is for Alice. She deserves to have something nice happen to her. And four months seems like a long time now, but trust me, it will go quickly in the end. By this time next year, you’ll wonder what all the fuss was about. So you have to be brave. Wish Alice well, spend time with your other friends, and wait for summer to come. Everything will be fine – I promise.’

  I tried to smile, but I couldn’t feel happy. I was too embarrassed for that.

  Mum hugged me.

  ‘It’s OK, Megan,’ she said. ‘Everyone feels sorry for themselves every now and then. Sometimes it’s OK to have a good cry.’

  I hugged her back.

  ‘Thank
s, Mum,’ I said.

  Mum jumped up.

  ‘Feeling better now?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Then I’d better go and see to the dinner. It’s soya-bean bake – your favourite.’

  I felt like crying again – whatever gave her the idea that I actually liked soya-bean bake?

  How could anyone like soya-bean bake?

  But now wasn’t the time for arguing.

  ‘Yummy,’ I said, and I kept the smile on my face until Mum was gone and the door was closed firmly behind her.

  And then I lay down and cried a few more tears.

  Chapter eleven

  I lay on my bed for a very long time.

  I played with the small silver bus on a chain, that Alice had given me when I visited her in Dublin.

  And after a while, I knew what I had to do.

  Alice has always been my very best friend.

  I was going to be happy for her, even if it killed me

  * * *

  After ages, I got up and went in to the bathroom. I washed my face and brushed my hair.

  ‘I’m calling over to Alice’s place,’ I called to Mum.

  ‘OK,’ Mum called back. ‘But don’t be late for tea. I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep Dad and Rosie away from your share of the soya-bean bake.’

  I’d have laughed, but the sad thing is, I don’t think she was joking.

  * * *

  I ran next door, glad that Alice was spending the night in her dad’s house. If I’d had to walk all the way to her mum’s place, I might have had time to change my mind.

  I rang the doorbell, trying to ignore the part of me that hoped Alice wouldn’t be there.

  Alice answered the door. She was still fizzing with excitement as she led the way to her room.

  ‘Isn’t it the coolest thing ever?’ she said. ‘I wish you could have stayed at school a bit longer. Everyone was going crazy. Even some of the teachers hugged me. I know that’s totally gross, but I didn’t mind. Luckily Mrs Kingston didn’t try to hug me, though. I had to go in to her office, and she told me all about the prize. And the best part was – she told me about the Easter holidays.’

  Suddenly things didn’t seem quite so bad. How could I have forgotten about Easter? It wasn’t too far away.

  ‘So you’ll be coming home for Easter?’ I said. ‘That’ll be sooo cool. We can do loads of great stuff together. You can tell me all about your school then. You can ……’ I stopped talking as I noticed that Alice had a very strange look on her face. It was like a mixture of embarrassment and total happiness.

  ‘I won’t be home for Easter,’ she said.

  I didn’t understand.

  ‘You have to come home,’ I protested. ‘They can’t keep you prisoner over there.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘I won’t be a prisoner. The school organises a ski-trip during the holidays. I’ll be going to the French Alps for ten days. Imagine! Ten whole days skiing.’

  I couldn’t imagine that. Maybe my imagination wasn’t working very well that day, because all I could imagine was loads of boring days in Limerick without Alice.

  Alice kept talking.

  ‘Mrs Kingston gave me heaps of brochures and stuff for Mum and Dad to read and then I went back outside to the hall, and everyone was still going crazy and I wish you could have been there.’

  ‘I…….,’ I began, but Alice interrupted me.

  ‘Kellie said you had to do jobs for your mother. I hope it wasn’t too boring.’

  It was nice of Kellie to help me, but I knew it was time to tell the truth.

  ‘Kellie was just trying to protect me,’ I began.

  Alice giggled.

  ‘Protect you?’ she asked. ‘From who? From Mrs Kingston and the crazy hugging teachers?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘No,’ I said slowly.

  This was really too hard, but I knew I had to continue.

  ‘Kellie was kind of protecting me from myself. You see…… I didn’t want you to win that prize,’ I said.

  Alice looked puzzled.

  ‘I know you sort of said that before,’ she said. ‘But I didn’t think you really meant it.’

  I nodded sadly.

  ‘I did. I was sorry when Mrs Kingston said that you’d won. I wasn’t happy for you – not even for one second. That’s why I had to go away. I couldn’t bring myself to congratulate you.’ I put my head down. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered.

  Alice didn’t answer. She sat down on her bed and stared at me. Now she looked even more puzzled than before, and all of a sudden, I could see why.

  Alice is so kind and generous, she would never think of being upset if I won. If my essay had been the best, Alice would have been the first to hug and kiss me. By now she’d be lending me loads of her cool clothes, and helping me to pack my bags and book my flights.

  I was lucky to have a friend like her.

  I gave her a huge smile that wasn’t even pretend.

  ‘Congratulations,’ I said. ‘I hope you have a really, really fantastic time in France.’

  Alice jumped up and hugged me.

  ‘Thanks, Meg,’ she said. ‘You’re the best.’

  Chapter twelve

  There were only two weeks left before Alice was due to go to France, and I made up my mind that I was going to make the most of them. There would be plenty of time for being sad when she was gone.

  Grace, Alice and I were in a Home Ec group together. Usually we took turns to cook, but since Alice was going away, Grace and I decided to let her cook for her last two weeks.

  ‘That’s really nice of you,’ said Alice when we told her.

  Grace and I just smiled. Alice still didn’t know how much we loved the days when she cooked. Home Ec was never boring when Alice was anywhere close to the cooker.

  On the next cookery day, Alice brought the ingredients for Madeira cakes. Our teacher, Miss Leonard seemed to be in a very good mood when we got into class, and we soon discovered why.

  ‘Alice,’ she said with a huge smile. ‘I hear that you’re going to be leaving us soon.’

  Alice smiled back.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Sorry about that. I know you’re going to miss me. But don’t worry, I’ll be doing Home Ec in France too, so I’ll be able to practise everything I learned here. I’ll tell everyone about you, though. I’ll tell them you taught me everything I know.’

  Miss Leonard’s smile faded. She looked like someone who had a very sour lemon stuck between her lips and her teeth.

  Alice is a total disaster in the kitchen, and I figured that Miss Leonard would not want anyone to blame her for that.

  ‘Well, whatever you think best, Alice dear,’ she said. ‘Now switch on your oven and then you can start to set out your ingredients.’

  For once, Alice had brought the right ingredients and, with help from Grace and me, she managed to mix up the cake without any major incident. (As long as you don’t count the big lump of Madeira mixture that somehow took off and got stuck to the ceiling.)

  The fun started when Alice went to put the cake into the oven.

  ‘Whoops,’ she said. ‘I forgot to switch the oven on. I wonder if that matters?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘You idiot.’ I said. ‘Of course it matters. The cake will never be ready by home time. I think you should tell Miss Leonard.’

  Alice shook her head.

  ‘No way,’ she said. ‘I don’t want her losing her good opinion of me. I’ll just turn the oven up to the highest it can go, so the cake will cook faster.’

  As she spoke she turned the oven on, shoved the cake inside, and slammed the door.

  Grace made a face. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Alice,’ she said.

  I knew it wasn’t a good idea, but before I could say anything, Miss Leonard was clapping her hands.

  ‘Stop talking, Grace and Alice,’ she said. ‘Come over here to this table, so I can show you all how to make butter i
cing.’

  Everyone went over to a corner of the room, where Alice did her best to drive Miss Leonard crazy by asking stupid questions about butter icing.

  After a while, Jane, who’s usually very quiet, put up her hand.

  ‘What is it Jane?’ asked Miss Leonard.

  Jane went red.

  ‘Er … I could be wrong, … but I think I smell something burning,’ she said. ‘And I think it might be coming from over there.’

  She pointed across the room, and at once everyone turned around to see wisps of dark smoke oozing from the door of one of the ovens.

  ‘Alice,’ muttered Miss Leonard. ‘What have you done this time?’

  ‘How does she know it’s me?’ asked Alice.

  Grace and I grinned.

  ‘Lucky guess, I suppose,’ I said, and even Alice had to laugh.

  We laughed a bit less as Miss Leonard ran over, opened the oven door, and had to step backwards as a huge cloud of thick, black smoke poured out of the oven.

  Then everyone stopped laughing altogether as there was a sudden piercing shriek.

  Alice went pale.

  ‘Is that …… the fire alarm?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Sounds like it to me.’

  ‘Omigod, there must be a fire somewhere,’ screeched Laura, who’s not very quick about copping on to things.

  Miss Leonard grabbed some oven gloves, pulled Alice’s smoking cake from the oven, and dropped it into a sink full of water.

  She switched off the oven, then she turned and glared at Alice.

  ‘There’s no danger, any more,’ she said. ‘So there’s no need to panic. But we have to obey the fire rules. Outside everyone, nice and calmly, and go to your designated assembly spots in the school-yard.’

  We all did as we were told and filed outside.

  I felt like laughing, but I didn’t dare. Alice was standing next to me, and Miss Leonard looked like she would happily have killed her.

  Seconds later, six hundred pupils and a large number of cross-looking teachers were lined up in the school-yard.

  Miss Leonard walked along our line, counting us to make sure that everyone was where they were supposed to be.

  ‘Er, Miss?’ said Alice, as she went by. ‘Do you think my cake will be OK if I put extra butter icing on it?’