What Alice Forgot - Liane Moriarty [131]
“I’m well, thank you.” Do not under any circumstances cry. She found herself longing, bizarrely, for Dominick. For someone who liked her best. How horrible it was to be despised. To feel yourself to be despicable.
A familiar quavery voice came over the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, it’s my very great pleasure to welcome you all to the Tranquillity Wood Retirement Village Family Talent Night. Could I ask you all to take your seats?”
“Frannie!” said Olivia.
It was Frannie up onstage, looking rather beautiful in a royal-blue dress and speaking calmly into the microphone, although she was putting on a posh voice.
“She doesn’t look nervous,” said Madison. “If it was me, I would be so nervous talking to all these people, I would probably faint.”
“Me too,” agreed Alice.
Madison curled her lip. “No, you wouldn’t.”
“I would!” protested Alice.
There was some confusion as they all settled into their seats. Madison, Tom, and Olivia all wanted to sit next to their father, and Olivia needed to be at the end of the row so she could be ready to go up when her name was called, and she also wanted Nick and Alice to sit together, while Billy wanted to sit on Alice’s lap, which Ella clearly did not want. She finally gave in and Alice found herself with Madison on one side and Nick on the other, and Billy’s warm little body snuggled into hers. At least he liked her.
Where was Elisabeth? Alice twisted around in her seat to look for her. She was meant to be coming tonight, but maybe she’d changed her mind. Mum had called to say that the blood-test results had been negative and Elisabeth seemed fine, although a little peculiar. “I actually wondered if she was drunk,” Barb had said. Alice still had Dino’s fertility doll in her handbag to give her. Would it just upset her now? But what if she was depriving Elisabeth of its magical powers? She would ask Nick what he thought.
She glanced over at Nick’s stern profile. Could she still ask his opinion on things like that? Maybe not. Maybe he didn’t care.
When the crowd had settled down, Frannie tapped the microphone and said, “Our first act is Mary Barber’s great-granddaughter performing ‘Somewhere over the Rainbow.’”
A little girl in a glittery sequined dress, plastered with makeup (“See, Mummy?” hissed Olivia, leaning forward across Nick to look reproachfully at Alice), strode out onto the stage, shimmying her chest like an aging cabaret singer. “Jesus,” said Nick under his breath. She clasped the microphone with both hands and began to sing, her voice filled with exaggerated emotion, making the audience flinch in unison each time she hit the high notes.
She was followed by tap-dancing grandchildren in top hats and canes, a great-nephew’s magic show (“FYI, I know exactly how he did that,” Tom whispered loudly), and a niece’s gymnastic routine. Ella’s little boy got bored and started a game where he clambered from lap to lap, touching each person on the nose, saying, “Chin,” or touching them on the chin and saying, “Nose,” and then falling about laughing at his own wit.
Finally Frannie said, “Next up, Olivia Love, my own great-granddaughter, performing a routine she choreographed herself called ‘The Butterfly.’”
Alice was terrified. Choreographed it herself ? She’d assumed Olivia would be performing something she’d learned at ballet school. Good Lord, it would probably be dreadful. Her hands were sweaty. It was as if she were going up there herself.
“Hmmmm,” said Olivia without moving.
“Olivia,” said Tom. “It’s your turn.”
“I actually feel a bit sick,” said Olivia.
Nick said, “All the best performers feel sick, sweetie. It’s a sign. It means you’re going to be great.”
“You don’t have to—” began Alice.
Nick put a hand on her arm and Alice stopped.
“As soon as you start, the sick feeling will go away,” he said to Olivia.
“Promise?” Olivia looked up at him trustingly.
“Cross my heart and hope to be killed by a rabid dog.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “You’re so silly, Dad.” She slid down from the chair and marched down the aisle toward the stage, her tulle