Don't Ask Alice Read online

  ‘I haven’t got all that much. Don’t suppose you have anything stashed away?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘No chance. You know what Mum’s like. She “doesn’t approve of make-up for twelve-year-olds.”’

  Alice giggled, ‘Or for – what is she now – thirty-seven-year-olds?’

  I had to laugh too. I don’t think my mum has ever even touched a lipstick, let alone owned one.

  Then I stopped laughing.

  ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘What’s all this for anyway? Why are you suddenly so interested in wearing make-up? And it’s not like we’re going out anywhere – you’re spending the evening in my kitchen, remember?’

  Alice shook her head.

  ‘The make-up’s not for me, Dork-head. I’m not the one going on a romantic date, am I?’

  I laughed again as I picked up a sparkly eye shadow.

  ‘Hmmm,’ I said. ‘I think this shade would be perfect on your dad. Just right to bring out the blue in his eyes.’

  ‘Ha, ha,’ said Alice. ‘Very funny. Not. You know well that all this stuff is for Linda.’

  I sighed.

  ‘Well, I suppose I know now,’ I said. ‘But Linda doesn’t need all that make-up. She’s pretty enough as she is.’

  Alice started to gather up the stuff and put it into a giant make-up bag.

  ‘Careful, Meg,’ she said. ‘Don’t start sounding like your mother. Never forget, there’s no one so pretty she can’t be improved with some nice make-up.’

  ‘Now who’s sounding like her mother?’ I snapped.

  Alice gave me a quick hug.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Let’s just agree that neither of us is going to turn into our mothers. Ever. OK?’

  I nodded. I didn’t want to fight with Alice. And besides, messing about with make-up would be fun – especially without Mum there looking over my shoulder and saying I was wasting my life.

  There was still one problem thought.

  ‘What are we going to say to Linda?’ I asked. ‘We can’t say – “Hey, Linda, you’d better put on some make-up, just in case a handsome prince happens to drop by tonight?”’

  Alice suddenly started to laugh so much she couldn’t talk. When she finally recovered, she said,

  ‘I don’t think you could exactly call my dad a handsome prince. Do you?’

  Now I laughed too.

  ‘Maybe if we got him to wear a satin shirt ……’

  ‘…… and some white tights,’ added Alice.

  ‘…… and we could borrow a donkey from the donkey sanctuary and he could arrive on that …….’ I finished.

  By now we were both laughing so much we had to lie on the bed and roll around for a while. It was nice.

  Eventually Alice sat up.

  ‘Enough of that,’ she said. ‘Let’s go next door. We’ve got work to do.’

  * * *

  Linda was surprised when Alice and I suggested that we give her a makeover. She even sounded a little bit insulted.

  ‘Actually I’m quite happy with the way I look,’ she said.

  Alice smiled her best smile.

  ‘You look fab,’ she said. ‘But we have to give someone a makeover, and there’s no-one else around.’

  Linda looked a bit less cross.

  ‘But why do you have to give someone a makeover?’ she asked.

  I looked desperately at Alice.

  ‘It’s a project,’ she said.

  ‘For Guides,’ I added. That sounded a bit stupid, but by the time I realised that, the words were already out of my mouth.

  ‘Hmmmm,’ said Linda. ‘Guides must have changed a lot since I was there. In my day it was mostly about lighting camp-fires and tying complicated knots and polishing shoes for old ladies.’

  ‘Oh, Guides is very different nowadays,’ said Alice. ‘We do all kinds of interesting stuff. Last week we went white-water rafting.’

  I kicked Alice to quieten her. Did that girl never know when to stop?

  Linda looked like she didn’t believe Alice, but she didn’t say so.

  ‘Well,’ she said. ‘If you’re going to do my make-up I suppose we’d better get on with it. I’m getting even older and wrinklier while we’re standing here talking about it.’

  Alice did most of the work. I didn’t mind, because I didn’t have much of an idea what to do anyway. Mostly I just held brushes, and ran and got damp cotton wool whenever something went wrong. (Which seemed to happen an awful lot.)

  After a while, Rosie came in from the garden. She’d never seen anyone putting on make-up before, so she just sat quietly, and watched with her mouth open.

  After ages Alice was finished the make-up.

  Linda was impatient.

  ‘Can I see?’ she asked.

  ‘We’re not finished yet,’ said Alice. ‘What about straightening your hair?’

  Linda shook her head.

  ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ she said. ‘I actually like my curls, and I’m not having them straightened. Not even for the sake of your Guide project.’

  ‘But…’ began Alice.

  I interrupted her.

  ‘Forget it, Al,’ I said. ‘Leave Linda’s hair alone. It’s really lovely already.’

  ‘OK. OK,’ muttered Alice. ‘I was only trying to help. I suppose you’re ready so.’

  She stood back and admired Linda’s face.

  ‘What do you think?’ she said to me.

  I didn’t really know what to think. Linda looked different, but I’m not sure she looked better. She just didn’t look like herself any more.

  Alice handed Linda a mirror. She looked at herself for ages, but she didn’t say anything. Then Rosie ran over and hugged her.

  ‘Pretty Linda,’ she said.

  Linda laughed.

  ‘I suppose that settles it,’ she said. ‘Thanks girls.’

  Linda put down the mirror.

  ‘Since you’ve done such a good job, it seems a pity to be staying in tonight. Why don’t we all go out for something to eat? You can come too, Alice, if you like.’

  Now what were we supposed to do?

  ‘But …’ I said.

  ‘But …’ said Alice.

  ‘Well?’ said Linda.

  ‘But we’re cooking dinner here tonight,’ I said.

  ‘And we’ve already bought the food,’ added Alice.

  Linda sighed.

  ‘That doesn’t matter. You can save that food and have a surprise dinner ready tomorrow night when your parents get home.’

  I gulped. Mum would get a surprise if she came home and saw that there was ready-made lasagne for dinner. And it wouldn’t be a pleasant surprise either. She’d go totally crazy, and go on about the dangers of ready-made foods for weeks. It just wouldn’t be worth it.

  And besides, what about Linda and Peter’s romantic date?

  I looked at Alice in a panic. She just smiled sweetly.

  ‘Thanks, Linda,’ she said. ‘But you’ve been so kind to us, taking us into town, and buying us those lovely t-shirts. We want to repay you by cooking a lovely meal for you.’

  Now I started to feel really guilty. Alice was right – Linda had been really kind to us, and instead of being grateful we were tricking her into a romatic date. Before I could think of anything to say, Linda shook her head.

  ‘Girls these days,’ she said. ‘I’d have thought you’d be glad of a night out. But suit yourselves. We’ll eat here if that’s what you want.’

  Alice looked at me.

  ‘That’s exactly what we want,’ she said. ‘Now we’ll go away and leave you alone, so you can rest.’

  Now Linda looked really puzzled.

  ‘Why on earth would I want to rest?’

  Alice laughed a forced kind of laugh.

  ‘What I meant is that you should relax for a while. To let your make-up set.’

  Linda looked at Alice like she thought she was crazy, but she only said,

  ‘Come on Rosie. Let’s
go watch some more TV. We’ve only watched three hours so far today.’

  ‘Yippee, more telly!’ shouted Rosie, and raced into the TV room.

  I’m only twelve, but at that moment I felt very old. Life is much simpler when you are only four.

  Chapter seventeen

  Alice and I spent ages getting the dining room ready. We used a lovely white lacy tablecloth and linen serviettes that Alice ‘borrowed’ from her house. Then we got out all Mum’s best dishes and glasses, and the silver cutlery she got for a wedding present, and set the table for two. We picked some flowers from our garden, and put them on the table in a pretty vase. We put the candle we usually only use at Christmas next to the flowers. (And then I had to take it away when I remembered that we’d told Linda that Mum doesn’t allow candles in the house.)

  We couldn’t let Linda see what we were doing because she’d wonder why there were only two place settings, so we had to make her promise to stay out of the room until dinnertime.

  Just when we were finished setting the table, Rosie came in to the dining room. At first I thought it would be OK, because she can’t count properly yet – (she says one-three-six-nine-a hundred, and thinks she’s very clever.) Unfortunately, she noticed immediately that there was something wrong. She walked round and round the table. She patted the first chair and said ‘Megan.’ Then she patted the second chair and said ‘Linda.’ She walked around the table one more time with a worried look on her face.

  ‘Where’s my seat?’ she said.

  Alice and I had already decided that having Rosie around wouldn’t help the ‘romantic atmosphere’ so we were going to give her her tea early, and put her to bed with Alice’s portable DVD player and a stack of cartoon DVDs. (Which would give Rosie a total of about seven hours of TV that day – a record for any member of our family.)

  Alice bent down and spoke kindly to her.

  ‘Megan and I are going to give you yummy cereal for your tea. You can have it in the kitchen. OK?’

  Rosie jumped up and down.

  ‘Yummy cereal,’ she squealed. ‘Lots and lots of yummy cereal.’

  I sighed. Mum would think it was child cruelty to send Rosie to bed without a ‘proper dinner.’ If she ever found out, I’d be in serious trouble.

  But what was I supposed to do?

  The romantic date wasn’t for hours yet, and already things were getting out of hand.

  * * *

  When Rosie was full of cereal, and safely in bed with her DVDs, Alice and I started to prepare the salad. Alice was too lazy to wash the lettuce.

  ‘It’s from your mum’s garden. It doesn’t need to be washed,’ she said. ‘No chemicals, so it’s perfectly safe.’

  I didn’t argue. I was too worried about the whole night to be fussing about a few lettuce leaves.

  We put the lettuce on two of Mum’s best china plates. It looked a bit bare and lonely – a bit like something you’d feed to a very small and not-very-hungry rabbit. We checked the fridge, but I couldn’t see anything else suitable for a salad. Alice spied the rashers and sausages Linda had bought that morning.

  ‘Perfect,’ she said. ‘I saw a rasher and sausage salad on telly once. It’s the latest thing.’

  It sounded totally gross to me, but what did I care?

  I wasn’t going to have to eat it.

  I got out the frying pan, and started to fry the rashers and sausages. I decided to cook them all because I was starving, (and besides, we had to get all that evil food out of the house before Mum got back and realised how many of her healthy-eating rules were being broken).

  Alice and I ate most of the rashers and sausages, saving one of each for each plate of salad. Then Alice spent ages arranging them on top of the leaves. When she was finished they still looked a bit stupid, but I didn’t say anything. Maybe they’d taste better than they looked.

  Just as Alice was putting the salads in to the fridge, the doorbell rang.

  Suddenly I felt kind of sick. I so did not want to be part of what was going to happen next. Maybe I could say I had a tummy-ache and needed to go to bed for the night. I was still wondering if I was brave enough to say this, when Alice grabbed me, and dragged me into the family room where Linda was sitting.

  We all looked at each other for a minute. Then Alice poked me, and I said the line I’d been practising in my head.

  ‘Er, Linda,’ I said. ‘Would you mind getting the door? Alice and I are kind of busy.’

  ‘Sure thing,’ Linda said as she jumped up and went out into the hall. Alice and I peeped around the door to see what happened next.

  Linda opened the door.

  ‘Oh, hi Peter,’ she said. ‘Are you looking for Alice? She’s just …’

  Peter looked kind of puzzled.

  ‘No, I’m…’

  Then he gave a sudden laugh.

  ‘Oh, you’re joking. Ha, ha. Funny one.’

  Linda didn’t laugh with him. She flicked the hall light switch, and the hall suddenly brightened.

  ‘The lights are still working fine,’ she said.

  ‘Good,’ said Peter. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

  Then there was a very long, embarrassing silence. Peter stood on the doorstep, and Linda stood inside the door, looking at him. Alice and I stood behind the family room door, looking at each other.

  Finally Linda spoke again.

  ‘Er … would you like to come in?’

  Alice poked me in the ribs and grinned.

  ‘See?’ she whispered. ‘I told you it would work.’

  Peter seemed very relieved.

  ‘Well, why not? Since I’m here.’

  Alice and I backed away from the door and tried to look casual. Peter and Linda came into the family room and sat down. Linda made a face at me. I knew she was trying to say what’s going on here? I put my head down and pretended not to notice.

  There was another long silence. This was sooo embarrassing.

  I tried to catch Alice’s eye, but she was busy admiring one of Mum’s ornaments on the mantelpiece.

  ‘Maybe Peter would like something to drink,’ I suggested, after what seemed like hours of silence. ‘There’s some orange juice in the fridge.’

  ‘Good idea,’ said Linda, sounding relieved. ‘Bring a glass for each of us, there’s a good girl.’

  I spent as long as I could in the kitchen, pouring out the juice veeeery slowly and adding ice to it, one small cube at a time. When I got back to the family room, Linda and Peter sipped their orange juice, and looked at Alice and me so often that I began to get really nervous.

  Linda and Peter said lots of stupid stuff like – ‘That’s very nice juice’, and ‘Yes, it is nice, isn’t it?’ and ‘It’s my favourite brand’ and ‘I don’t much like the juice with the bits in it, do you?’ and ‘I don’t mind the bits as long as they’re not too big.’

  After a long discussion about bits in orange juice, Linda and Peter started to talk about whether it was better to hang rolls of toilet paper with the loose bits hanging on the outside, or on the side close to the wall. I’ve never been on a romantic date, but if I ever do go on one, I hope it’s a bit more interesting than this one was turning out to be. (And I certainly hope I don’t end up talking about toilet paper.)

  After a while I couldn’t take any more. I got up and I went into the kitchen and waited for Alice to follow me.

  I didn’t have to wait long. Alice was standing beside me in about twenty-five seconds.

  ‘Are they still talking about toilet paper?’ I asked.

  Alice shook her head.

  ‘No. They’ve moved on to something much more interesting.’

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  Alice started to giggle.

  ‘They’re talking about the best way to get the gross, black, mouldy stuff off shower curtains.’

  I started to laugh too.

  ‘Very romantic. Not,’ I said.

  ‘It’s early yet,’ said Alice. ‘Just you wait.’

  I folded m
y arms. Suddenly I didn’t feel like laughing any more. This whole thing was totally stupid.

  ‘What exactly are we waiting for?’ I asked. ‘How are we going to get from mouldy shower curtains to a romantic dinner for two? Linda’s sitting there wondering why Peter won’t go home and let us get on with our dinner, and Peter’s sitting there wondering why she’s invited him for dinner when there’s no sign of food.’

  Alice just smiled.

  ‘Don’t panic, Meg.’ She said. ‘It’ll work itself out. One of them will crack sooner or later. I bet it will be Dad. He’s always hungry, so he’ll mention food before too long, and Linda will be too polite not to invite him to eat, and then they’ll be enjoying our delicious food so much, they’ll never figure out the truth. It’s simple, I promise. Completely simple.’

  ‘Simple’. That awful word again. There should be a law against it, there really should.

  Chapter eighteen

  Alice and I went back into the family room and sat together on an armchair. Peter and Linda were talking about the cost of parking in Limerick, compared to Dublin and Cork. If they kept on like this I was sure I’d get so bored I’d fall fast asleep. (And with a bit of luck, I might sleep so long that when I woke up this totally awful night would be over.)

  Soon Peter started to seem restless. He was jiggling his feet, and re-arranging himself on the couch. He opened and re-tied his shoelaces three times, and twice he took off his watch and put it back on again.

  Linda didn’t seem very happy either. She was fiddling with her glass, running her finger around the rim making it hum softly.

  Besides the orange juice, the toilet paper, the shower-curtain-mould-cleaner, and the cost of parking in every city in the western world, they’d talked about the weather, tennis, gardening, and then the weather again.

  Finally Peter sniffed the air like a puppy-dog trying to find something it had lost. Luckily there was still a strong smell of rashers and sausages.

  ‘Something smells nice,’ he said.

  ‘That’ll be dinner,’ said Linda. ‘Alice and Megan are cooking tonight.’

  ‘Yum,’ Peter said. ‘I can’t wait. I’m so hungry you wouldn’t believe it.’

  Linda gave him a funny look.