Rosie James - Letters To Alice

‘Well – we’re glad you’re alive Evie…because if you weren’t here, we’d be one wise bloody monkey short!’ Fay said.

Eve actually laughed, obviously delighted at that. ‘Oh - only one person ever called me Evie before,’ she said, ‘because my parents don’t like it. But I like it!’

‘Well, you’re Evie from now on,’ Alice said, pleased to see the girl begin to look happy. She decided to push a bit further. ‘Was it a boyfriend who liked to call you that?’ she asked.

‘Not exactly…it was just one of the men I worked with at Milsoms,’ Eve said casually, ‘but he was called up straightaway. He’s with the RAF somewhere abroad now, I believe.’ She paused, clearly thinking about that. Then – ‘He’s married to a woman called Diana. I met her once. In the shop. She’s…very beautiful.’

No one spoke for a minute, then Eve said, frowning –

‘I hope digging potatoes isn’t going to be too hard. That’s what Mr. Foulkes said we’re going to be doing tomorrow, didn’t he?’

Alice sat up, hugging her knees. ‘Oh no! It won’t be hard at all, I promise you! It’s fun…really fun!’ She leaned closer towards the others. ‘ We had a kitchen garden in the Clifton house where I used to live, and once or twice I helped dig up some potatoes. And what you do is, you tug at the plant – it’s quite bushy – but it comes up easy as anything. Then you shake the earth off and all the potatoes – dozens of them – emerge and roll away like lovely little golf balls! It’s quite exciting! A little miracle!’ Alice ran her tongue over her lips. ‘And they are just scrumptious to eat…and don’t need peeling at all! Cook used to just rinse them under the tap until the skin almost fell off – then, when they’d been boiled, and cooled down a bit, we’d eat them in our fingers just as they were – dipping them into some salt first.’ Alice’s mouth watered at the memory.

‘Oh for Gawd’s sake!’ Fay exclaimed. ‘You had a cook ! How fraightfully posh! Shall we curtsy now – or later?’

Alice burst out laughing. ‘Oh, Betty wasn’t our cook – she cooked for the family my mother and I worked for. We lived-in, you see, so we ate the same food as them.’

‘That all sounds very nice,’ Eve said, sitting up as well now, and not feeling too bad about the prospect of potato digging. ‘Where was the house…it was obviously very big,’ she said.

Alice hesitated, not wanting to talk too much about that part of her life. Not because she didn’t have fond – very fond – memories of it, but because she didn’t want to share them. With anyone. They held so much of what had been dear to her, that exposing them for public scrutiny would lessen their value. Those memories were hers, to hug to herself and keep safe. For ever.

‘It was a big house,’ she admitted at last. ‘My mother and I were on the top floor, and from our bedroom window I could see the Clifton suspension bridge.’ Alice knew all about Isambard Kingdom Brunel and everything he’d designed…Sam had explained it to her.

‘Your employers must have been very rich, important people,’ Eve said, curious to know more. And taken off her guard for a second, Alice said –

‘Well – one day the king did come to tea,’ she began, and Fay sniggered.

‘Oh yeah – which king was that – Kong or Canute?’ She lit another cigarette from the stub of the first one and glanced over at Alice.

‘Neither,’ Alice said. ‘It was the old king – King George the fifth – our present king’s father.’

The room went deadly quiet for a moment as this news sank in. Then Fay said slowly, ‘Bloody ’ell. You’re not kiddin’, are you?’

‘No, I’m not,’ Alice said cheerfully.

By now, Eve’s eyes were shining like stars in the flickering candlelight. ‘Oh Alice…tell us about it… please !’ she exclaimed. Anything to do with royalty or the aristocracy was almost a religion for many people.

But Alice had said enough. No more of her secrets would pass her lips that night.

Despite the long, unusual day they’d all spent, sleep didn’t come easily to Alice, and she found herself tossing and turning on the unyielding mattress until she thought she was going mad. Fay and Eve had no such problem because by now they were both fast asleep, Fay snoring gently through her slightly parted lips.

Alice sighed, and turned over again. They were living in such a weird world. There was no sound outside at all – which was strange considering they were on a farm with presumably hundreds of animals close by. Everything, every animal, every bird seemed to be at rest, and peaceful. Yet peace was not everywhere…far from it. The war in Europe and Japan was raging, things were going from bad to worse as Hitler’s armies gained ground, and at this very moment there were people being killed or injured. They’d all be very glad if their only problem was trying to get to sleep! Thinking that made Alice feel really bad, and she picked up her pillow – which was actually quite soft and comfy – and jammed it over her head, trying to shut out her thoughts.

It must be at least two 0’clock by now, she thought desperately, because by the time they’d blown out their candles earlier it had been gone midnight. She took a long deep breath. Here she was …sharing a bedroom with two girls she’d never met before, billeted somewhere in the back of beyond with people she didn’t know…she could be a million miles away from the rest of the world. Like being on a distant, desert island. And that’s exactly how she was feeling…distant, remote, someone else entirely…

After another half an hour, Alice gave up on the thought of sleep. She sat up and got out of bed, kneeling down and quietly sliding out her suitcase from underneath. She knew exactly where she’d put her torch – most people carried torches with them – and switching it on, she looked for her book which was in an inner side pocket. Just to close her hands around the cover gave her pleasure. And next to the book was her leather wallet which she also took out and held between her fingers. Then she climbed back into bed, and by the light of the torch began to read.

Fay’s soft voice nearly made her drop the torch.

‘Wha’ ya’ readin’?’ she whispered, turning her head to look at Alice.

‘Oh sorry, Fay…I’ve woken you up,’ Alice whispered back, and Fay shrugged briefly.

‘Wha’ odds?’ she said. ‘I wasn’t really asleep anyway.’

Alice half-smiled. Fay’s light snores had told another story. ‘Oh, this is my copy of Jane Eyre …Charlotte Brontë,’ Alice said quietly. ‘I’ve read it so many times I nearly know it by heart.’

‘Yeah, ’ Fay said at once. ‘I used to think Jane was like a wet weekend, putting up with Rochester’s mean moodiness all the time like that, even if he was her employer. I’d have given him a piece of my mind if that had been me…he was just another male big ’ed! But – it was tough luck, him marrying a mad woman, wasn’t it, and then going blind in the end.’ Fay thought about that for a second. ‘Yeah. Good yarn that, and at least Jane knew some happiness at last. Even if she did have to wait half a lifetime for it.’

Alice wasn’t surprised that Fay had read the book. Beneath her brashness was an intelligent and thoughtful person. Alice had worked that out almost as soon as they’d met. And there hadn’t been any of her normal expletives as she’d spoken just then. She seemed to like talking about a mutual interest.

Fay’s eyes dropped to the pile of letters which Alice had taken from the wallet and spread out on the quilt in front of her. ‘Those from your bloke?’ she asked bluntly. Fay didn’t believe in beating about the bush.