What Alice Forgot Page 94

Madison nodded. Her face had now gone from white to flaming red.

“Right then.” Dominick stood up. “Go and get your bag and meet your parents at the gate.”

Madison shot from the room, and Chloe burst into a fresh flood of tears.

“Okay, Chloe,” said Dominick wearily. “Your mum will be here soon. Just wait here.”

He ushered Nick and Alice out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“There’s probably not much point you having to see Kate now, while everyone is in such a state,” he said. “I think you should take Madison home and try and talk to her and get an idea of what’s going on in her head. I would seriously recommend counseling. I can give you some names.” There was a sound of hurriedly clicking heels in the distance. “I bet that’s Kate. Go.” He waved them away, as if he were saving them from the secret police. “Disappear!”

Nick and Alice fled through the playground. They stopped at the school gates. Nick was panting. Alice wasn’t. She was much fitter than he was.

“That was awful,” said Alice. “I feel like I cut off that child’s hair myself. And the cake! She spent so long making that cake. Poor little thing.”

“Chloe?” said Nick.

“No, Madison,” said Alice. “Who cares about Chloe?”

“Alice, our child threatened to stab her with a pair of scissors.”

“Well, I know that,” said Alice.

Nick pulled out his mobile phone from his pocket, flipped it open. “I don’t see how suspending her helps anything,” he said, while frowning at something on the screen of his phone. “It’s like they’re putting their hands in the air and saying, ‘We don’t know what to do with her.’ Absolving themselves of responsibility.” He looked up at Alice. “Not to criticize your boyfriend or anything.”

“I guess it’s school policy,” said Alice, feeling both defensive of Dominick and betrayed by him. Didn’t kissing the school principal give you a free pass when it came to suspending your daughter?

“Anyway”—Nick looked at his watch—“I’ll get back to the office. I guess we’d better talk about this later. I don’t know what sort of punishment you’re thinking, but obviously it has to be severe—”

“What do you mean?” said Alice. “I think we should talk to her now. Right now. Both of us.”

Nick seemed startled. “Now? You want me to be there, too?”

“Of course I do,” said Alice. “I think we should take her for a drive. And we’re not going to jump in and start punishing her. I hate that word. Punishment.”

“Oh, sorry. I guess we should reward her. Say ‘Well done, honey, maybe you should consider a career in hairdressing.’”

Alice giggled. Nick smiled. The sunlight was shining directly onto his face. He shielded his eyes with one hand and said, “I’ll know when you get your memory back.”

“How?”

“The way you look at me. As soon as you remember, I’ll see it in your eyes.”

“Will they shoot death rays at you?” said Alice.

Nick smiled sadly. “Something like that.” He looked again at his watch. “I’ve got a meeting at midday. I guess I could move it.” He seemed uncertain. “So you mean both of us take her for a drive somewhere?”

Alice said, “Is this really so unusual?”

“Normally you’d take charge and make it clear that my assistance was not required.”

“There’s a new Alice in town,” said Alice.

“You’re not wrong about that.” Nick seemed about to say something. He stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Here comes our little thug.”

Madison was walking toward them, her school backpack held loosely in one hand so it was almost dragging along the ground, her head hanging.

“Who am I going with?” she said when she got to them, not meeting their eyes.

“Both of us,” said Alice.

“Both of you?” Madison looked up and frowned. She seemed frightened.

“Come here,” said Alice.

Madison stomped over to her, still staring at the ground, and Alice pulled her close and hugged her.

“We’re going to work this out,” said Alice quietly into her hair. “You, your dad, and me are going to sit on the beach, eat ice creams, and work out whatever the problem is.”

Madison gave a tiny gasp of surprise and burst into tears.

Elisabeth’s Homework for Jeremy He keeps saying, “Turn the television off.”

And I keep saying, “Not yet.”

He turned it off himself a while ago, and as soon as he did, I screamed over and over, as if he was hurting me.

A tiny bit dramatic. I will feel embarrassed later.

But it did hurt me. That loud buzzing silence after the TV was switched off was actually painful to my eardrums.

He was probably worried the neighbors would call the police. After all, he looks exactly like the sort of man you expect to see dragged away in handcuffs for domestic violence. So he shrugged and turned it back on.

I am watching Oprah now. She’s talking about an exciting new diet. The audience is excited. I’m excited, J. I might try it. I’m taking notes.

They sat on the harbor-side beach at Manly, near the ferry stop, in the same spot where they’d had coffee that early morning after they drove Madison through the night when she was a baby.

They even had the same blue-and-white-checked picnic rug. It was in the boot of Nick’s car. The blue wasn’t as bright as it was in Alice’s memory, but her palms remembered its nubbly feel.

“Where did we get this rug?” asked Alice as they sat down.

“I don’t know,” said Nick. He sounded defensive. “You can have it if you want. I didn’t realize it was in my car.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. She hadn’t meant she wanted it. It was yet another glimpse of how stupid their lives had become. Would she really have wanted to make a point about who got the picnic rug?

Madison plonked herself down and sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, chin down, lank hair falling down on either side of her face. (Alice itched to snip it off. She would look so much prettier with short hair. Actually that could be the perfect “punishment”! You cut her hair, kid, so I’m going to cut yours.)