What Alice Forgot - Liane Moriarty [135]
Ella was now openly staring.
“So how come you’re the only one of the sisters here tonight, Ella?” asked Alice. Normally the Flakes traveled in a pack.
“Well, to be frank, Alice,” said Ella, “they sort of refuse to be in the same room as you.”
Alice flinched. “Goodness.” She wasn’t used to provoking such violent reactions in people, although, then again, she didn’t mind the idea of having such power over the Flakes. It was sort of delicious.
“Ella,” remonstrated Nick.
“I’m just saying it like it is,” said Ella. “I’m trying to stay neutral. Of course, it would help if you gave back Granny Love’s ring, Alice.”
“Oh! That reminds me.” Alice unzipped her handbag, pulled out a jewelry box. “I brought it to give to you tonight. Here it is.”
Nick took the ring slowly. “Thank you.” He held the jewelry case in his palm as if he didn’t know what to do with it and finally stuffed it into the pocket of his suit jacket.
“Well, if it’s that easy,” said Ella, “maybe I should bring up another few issues, like, I don’t know, the financial situation.”
“Ella, this is really none of your business,” said Nick.
“And why are you being such a cow over the custody?”
“Ella, this is not acceptable,” said Nick.
“Moo,” said Alice.
Ella and Nick stared.
Alice recited, “Who says ‘moo’? A cow says ‘moo’!” She smiled. “Sorry. It just came into my head when you said ‘cow.’ ”
Billy lifted his head from Ella’s shoulder, removed his thumb from his mouth, and said, “Moo!” He grinned appreciatively at Alice before replacing his thumb and putting his head back down on Ella’s shoulder again. Ella and Nick seemed lost for words.
“I guess it must come from a book we used to read the children,” said Alice.
It had been happening a lot. Strange words and phrases and lines from songs kept appearing in her head. It seemed that those ten years’ worth of memories had been stuffed in a too-small cupboard at the back of her mind, and every now and then a fragment of nonsense would escape.
Any second now that cupboard door was going to burst open and her head was going to overflow with memories of grief and joy and who knew what else. She didn’t know if she was looking forward to that moment or not.
“I dropped something the other day,” said Alice, “and I said, ‘Oh my dosh.’ And it just sounded so familiar. Oh my dosh.”
“Olivia used to say it when she was little,” said Nick. He smiled. “We all said it for a while. Oh my dosh. I’d forgotten that. Oh my dosh.”
“Am I missing something here?” said Ella.
“Maybe it’s time you got Billy home to bed,” said Nick.
“Right,” said Ella. “Fine. I’ll see you on Sunday.” She kissed Nick on the cheek.
“Sunday?”
“Mother’s Day? Lunch with Mum? She said you were coming.”
“Oh, right. Yes, of course.”
How did Nick handle his social life without Alice? That was her job, telling Nick what he was meant to be doing on the weekend. He must be missing things all over the place.
“Bye, Alice,” said Ella, without making a move to kiss her. The only person in 2008 who didn’t seem intent on plastering her with kisses. She paused. “Thanks for giving back the ring. It means a lot to our family.”
In other words, You are not our family any longer.
“No problem,” said Alice. You’re perfectly welcome to that horrendous ring.
When Ella had gone, Nick looked at Alice and said, “Still haven’t got your memory back, then?”
“Not quite. Any minute now.”
“How are you coping with the children?”
“Fine,” said Alice. No need to mention her daily failures with lost permission notes, unwashed school uniforms, and forgotten homework, or how she didn’t know what to do when they fought with each other over the computer or the PlayStation. “They’re lovely. We made lovely children.”
“I know we did,” said Nick, and his face seemed to collapse. “I know we did.” He paused, as if not sure whether he should speak, and then said, “That’s why the thought of only seeing them on weekends kills me.”
“Oh, that,” said Alice. “Well, if we don’t get back together, then of course we should do the fifty-fifty thing.