Putting Alice Back Together. Carol Marinelli

in the mirror as I put on my lip-gloss and sorted out my hair.

      I could not have hated myself more. I wasn’t even pissed—I’d had two glasses.

      How did I get here?

      How had my life got to this point?

      Why was I like this?

      I wanted to hit rewind. I wanted to go back and start the night all over again.

      How did he know? I mean, of all the women out there…

      I wanted to go home. I wanted to go out through the rear of the restaurant. I wanted to hide, to curl up on the disgusting floor—anything rather than go back out—but instead I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Or tried to.

      I couldn’t get the air in.

      I scrabbled in my bag but I couldn’t find them. There was an appointment card for 4.30 tomorrow, which I tossed back, and searched some more, then felt the relief as my fingers closed on a thin white box. It was a short-lived relief because there was only one left and after that there would be none.

      Alice Lydia Jameson

      Diazepam 5 mg.

      One tablet twice daily as needed.

      Avoid alcohol.

      I didn’t know if they worked, I really didn’t, or if it was just knowing I had them that helped—because even before the little yellow pill had dissolved on my tongue, I felt calmer.

      I headed back out there, scorching with shame but trying to act as if nothing just happened.

      ‘Where did you get to?’ Roz asked, but she didn’t wait for my answer. ‘Are you coming out for a cigarette?’

      Nicole was enjoying herself. Christopher, having ordered more champagne for the group, was saying goodbye, though he didn’t extend a farewell to me.

      ‘Have a great night, Nicole.’ He kissed her on the cheek and she smiled back at him.

      ‘Thanks for coming.’

      Only then did he smirk in my direction. ‘It was no trouble at all.’

      I stood outside with Roz and I didn’t have a cigarette, I just breathed in the cool night air and tried not to think about what I’d just done.

      ‘I can’t believe she’s going into work tomorrow…’ Roz was chatting away. ‘She’s flying tomorrow night…’

      ‘That’s Nic.’ I went into my bag for my cigarettes and I pulled out the appointment card too.

      ‘I’ll come back to the flat with you after work and we can all—’

      ‘Actually…’ I hesitated. I didn’t really know how to tell Roz. ‘I’m leaving work a bit early tomorrow, I’ve got an appointment.’ I knew she was curious, that she was waiting for me to explain, but I didn’t and Roz would never push. ‘I’ll be back in time to pick up Nic. You can meet me back at the flat.’

      ‘That’s fine,’ Roz said. ‘I’ll just meet you at the airport.’

      I’d been intending to cancel.

      Or just not show up.

      I had no intention of examining my past, but I needed a prescription and, I reluctantly admitted, perhaps I should speak to someone—not about it, of course, but about other things.

      Maybe this Lisa could help.

       Three

       Another Alice

      I liked the piano. It was my first instrument, the violin my second, but it was the piano I loved.

      I hated the lessons, but I sort of understood I had to have them.

      Young Mozart I was not—but I could read music.

      I just could.

      To me, it was easier than learning to read English—a quaver was an eighth of a whole, that dot meant you lengthened the note.

      I supposed I had not talent as such but, as my mother would tell everyone she met, her youngest daughter had an ‘ear for music’.

      I lived and breathed music—the classics, hymns, anything I heard I wanted to play.

      And as a teenager it had been considered nerdy.

      Seriously nerdy.

      Especially as I’d also sung in the church choir.

      Of course I’d got teased at school and hated it when people found out about my other life, but I loved hymns and singing and a couple of times I even played the organ.

      Yep—a serious nerd.

      There’s nobody musical in my family. Mum’s a nurse, dad’s in sales and marketing, Eleanor is my oldest sister and basically does nothing apart from look good—well, she has to, she’s married to a cosmetic dentist. Then there’s Bonny the middle one, who takes after Mum and is a nurse too. It really took a lot of convincing from my teachers for Mum to realise that she wasn’t being ripped off when the school suggested that if I wanted to pursue a career in music, then I needed some extra private tuition. (I was fifteen then. Dad and Mum had just broken up so it caused a few rows, Dad said he was paying Mum plenty—Mum said… well, plenty.)

      So, with things a bit tight, instead of more lessons with my regular music teacher, Mum found various students from a school of music to coach me. I was doing fairly well and looking at a career in teaching. As well as lessons and choir and choir practice, I had to practise my instruments for hours every day—though I didn’t mind practising the piano. In fact, I lived for it. It was the lessons I hated.

      Still, as I said, I understood that I had to have them and just put up with them, I suppose…

      Till Bonny’s wedding loomed, when everything changed.

      As far as I can remember, Eleanor’s wedding just seemed to happen without fuss. I was ten and, along with Bonny, I was a bridesmaid, but I don’t remember the whole world stopping in preparation for Eleanor’s big day—I just remember the church and the party afterwards.

      Oh, and the gleaming teeth in the photos.

      One minute Eleanor was dating Noel and the next we were in the church, or so it had seemed.

      Whereas Bonny’s wedding was the full circus.

      Bonny’s life was a full circus, but the wedding and the preparation were the worst.

      It was to be a New Year’s Eve wedding—it was the only way Lex’s relatives could all get over for it, and Mum, devastated that her middle child would be moving to Australia as soon as she took her final nursing exams, would do anything to please and appease. And, as much as I love Bonny, boy, did she take full advantage of the situation.

      I was seventeen and full of teenage angst and wondering if I’d ever lose my virginity, especially since I’d never even been kissed. I was heavily in love with Gus, my latest music tutor, and I was also very aware that I was behind on piano practice and my exams were just a few months away. Which sounds ages, but it really wasn’t.

      Not that any of this mattered to Bonny.

      Lex, Bonny’s fiancé, was a sexy six-foot-three Australian who worked for some international pharmaceutical company and was helping to compile statistics both here and in America. They had met at the hospital Bonny worked at, had fallen in love and within three months had got engaged.

      Everyone said Bonny was too young to marry, but Lex refused anything less. He didn’t want to live with her—if she was going to take the leap and move to Australia, then it would be as his wife.

      He’s a nice guy, Lex.

      A really nice guy, and even if Bonny was a bit young, I could understand why she didn’t want to let him go.