What Alice Forgot - Liane Moriarty [39]
So okay, fine, she’d overcome her fear of dating (and probably that’s what it had been, rather than eternal devotion), but to marry Nick’s father of all people?
“But why?” said Alice helplessly. “Why would you marry Roger?”
That’s right, she thought, it’s Roger who has that peacock way of holding his head.
Barb widened her eyes and pursed her lips together coyly, with an expression that was so bizarrely unlike her that Alice had to avert her eyes as if she’d interrupted her mother doing something perverse and sexual.
She said, “I fell madly in love with him, you remember, of course you remember, it all started at Madison’s christening, when Roger mentioned to me that he was thinking of taking up salsa dancing and would I be interested, and he didn’t actually give me a chance to say no, he just seemed to be under the impression that I was coming along, and I didn’t want to let him down, it seemed so rude, and even though I was in a state about it, and I actually thought about making an appointment to see Dr. Holden for a prescription for something to calm my nerves, and you girls got so cranky about that, as if I was going to become a crack cocaine addict or something, for heaven’s sakes, just a little Valium was all I was thinking, which apparently just gives you a lovely floaty feeling, but I couldn’t get an appointment, typical of course, that new receptionist is so snooty, I do wonder what happened to that lovely Kathy—”
“How long have you been married for?” Alice interrupted. The terror of not knowing the facts of her own life gripped her again. She was on one of those amusement park rides that slammed you left, then right, then turned the whole world upside down, giving you unfamiliar glimpses of familiar things. Alice hated amusement park rides.
“Well, it’s coming up to five years. You remember the wedding, Alice, of course you do. Madison was flower girl. She looked so adorable in that yellow dress, she looks so nice in yellow, not many people do, I’ve bought her a yellow top for Christmas, but whether she’ll wear it or not is another matter—”
“Mum,” said Elisabeth tersely. “Alice doesn’t even remember Madison. The last thing she remembers is being pregnant with her.”
“She doesn’t remember Madison,” repeated Barbara in a hushed voice. She took a deep breath and put on a nervous, merry voice as if to jolly Alice out of all this silliness. “Well, I can understand you wanting to forget Madison at this particular moment, the little grumble-bum, although I’m sure she’ll snap out of it soon, but of course, you remember Tom and darling Olivia, don’t you? Well, I can’t believe I’m asking the question. Of course you do. You can’t forget your own children! That would be . . . unthinkable.”
There was a tremor of fear in her voice that Alice found strangely comforting. Yes, Mum, this is scary. Yes, this is unthinkable.
“Mum,” said Elisabeth again. “Please try and get your head around this. She doesn’t remember anything since 1998.”
“Nothing?”
“I’m sure it’s just temporary.”
“Oh! Of course. Temporary!”
Her mother lapsed into silence and ran a fingernail around the edge of her thickly lipsticked mouth.
Alice tried out this new fact in her mind: My mother married my husband’s father.
It was as unforgettable a fact as I have three children and My husband whom I adore has moved out of our house, but somehow she’d forgotten it.
None of it could be true. It must all be an absolutely huge, elaborate practical joke. It must be an incredibly realistic dream. A vivid hallucination. A nightmare that kept going and going.
Roger! What could have possessed her sweet, cautious mother to “fall madly in love” (Mum never said extravagant things like “madly in love”) with someone like Roger? Roger with his overpowering aftershave, his radio-announcer voice, and his habit of saying “methinks” and “mayhaps”? Roger, who after a few drinks at family parties would pin Alice in a corner and