What Alice Forgot Page 62

“It definitely was not a brain tumor,” said Alice. “I just fell over.”

“I’m starved to death,” sighed Tom.

“I’m making hamburgers for dinner.”

“No, I mean, I’m starved right now.”

“Oh.”

A girl walked up onto the veranda. She dropped a wet towel on the veranda, put her hands on her hips, and said, “Did you say you’re making hamburgers for dinner?”

“Yes,” said Alice.

Madison. The Sultana. The two blue lines on all those pregnancy tests. The flashing heartbeat on the screen. The mysterious invisible presence listening to Nick’s voice through the toilet roll.

Madison had very fair, almost translucent skin. There was a patch of angry red sunburn on her neck with white fingerprints as if someone had given up on putting on the sunscreen too soon. She had lank, dark brown hair that was falling in her eyes and beautiful strong white teeth. Her eyes were the same shape as Nick’s but a darker, unusual color, and her eyebrows were someone’s—Elisabeth’s as a child! They were subtly raised at the corners, like Mr. Spock. She wasn’t adorable like Olivia and Tom. Her body was chunky. Her lower lip jutted out sulkily. But one day, thought Alice, one day I think you might be striking, my darling Sultana.

“You promised,” the Sultana said to Alice. Her eyes were murderous. She was formidable. She filled Alice with awe.

“I promised what?”

“That you would buy the ingredients so I could make lasagna tonight. I knew you wouldn’t do it. Why do you pretend you’re going to do something when you know that you’re not.” She punctuated the last sentence with rhythmic stamps of her foot.

Nick said, “Don’t be so rude, Madison. Your mother had an accident. She had to spend the night at the hospital.”

Alice wanted to laugh at Nick’s stern dad voice. Madison lifted her chin. Her eyes blazed. She stormed into the house, slamming the screen door behind her.

“Don’t slam the door!” called out Nick. “And come back and pick up your towel.”

Silence. She didn’t return.

Nick sucked in his lower lip and his nostrils flared. Alice had never seen him pull a face like that. He said, “Go inside, Tom. I want to speak to your mother. Will you take Madison’s towel inside, too?”

Tom was standing at the front wall of the house, tracing the brickwork with his fingertips. He said, “Dad, how many bricks do you reckon there are in this whole house?”

“Tom.”

Tom sighed theatrically, picked up Madison’s towel, and went inside.

Alice took a deep breath. She couldn’t imagine living with those three children twenty-four hours a day. She’d never imagined them actually talking. They fizzed and crackled with energy. Their personalities were right there on the surface without that protective sheen of adulthood.

“The Sultana,” began Alice, but words eluded her. Madison could not be put into words.

“I beg your pardon?” said Nick.

“The Sultana. I could never have imagined her growing up to be like that. She’s so . . . I don’t know.”

“Sultana?” He didn’t know what she was talking about.

“You remember—when I was pregnant with Madison, we used to call her the Sultana.”

He frowned. “I don’t remember that. Anyway, I wanted to see if we could work out this thing with Christmas Day.”

“Oh, that.” She thought of all those nasty e-mails and got a bad taste in her mouth. “Why are we even talking about Christmas now? It’s May!”

He stared at her as if she were crazy.

“I beg your pardon? You’re the one obsessed with your precious spreadsheet. You said you wanted everything in black-and-white for the whole year ahead. Every birthday. Every concert. You said that was best for the kids.”

“Did I?” Did she even know how to do a spreadsheet?

“Yes!”

“Right. Well. Whatever you want. You can have them on Christmas Day.”

“Whatever I want,” he repeated suspiciously, almost nervously. “Is there something I’m missing here?”

“Nope. Hey—how was Portugal?”

“It was fine, thank you,” he said formally.

She had to clench her fingernails into her hands to stop herself leaning forward and laying her face against his chest. She wanted to say, “Talk in your normal voice.”

“I’d better go,” he said.

“What?” She nearly grabbed for him in a panic. “No. You can’t go. You have to stay for dinner.”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

“Oh yes! Daddy, stay for dinner!” It was Olivia. She had a red cape tied around her shoulders and a toy stethoscope around her neck. She clung to Nick’s arm. Alice was jealous she was allowed to touch him so freely.

“I think I’d better go,” said Nick.

“Please stay,” said Alice. “We’re having hamburgers.”

“Yes! See, Mummy wants you to stay.” Olivia was doing a tap dance of delight back and forth across the veranda. She yelled, “Tom! Guess what? Dad’s staying for dinner!”

“Jesus, Alice,” said Nick under his breath, and this time he looked her properly in the eyes.

“I opened some really nice wine for us,” said Alice, and smiled at him.

She didn’t need lipstick to get her husband back.

Chapter 20

Nick didn’t seem to know what to do with himself when he came inside. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts and wandered around the living room, stopping and looking at things, as if he were in somebody else’s home.

“You got the pool under control?” he asked, and jutted his chin toward the backyard.

Alice stood in the kitchen, pouring them both a glass of wine. She had no idea what he was talking about. How do you get a pool under control?

“The pool has been very calm,” she said. “Very serene. I think I must have it on a tight leash.”

Nick turned back from the windows and looked at her sharply.

“Good,” he said.

Alice walked out of the kitchen and handed him a glass of wine. She noticed that he took it from her carefully, so that their hands didn’t touch. “Thanks,” he said. She kept standing in front of him and he backed away again as if she were contagious.