You, dad, mustnt visit us anymore! Whenever you leave, mum always starts crying. And she cries and cries, all through the night.
I fall asleep, wake up, fall asleep again, and wake upand still, shes crying. I ask her, “Mummy, why are you crying? Is it because of dad?..”
She tells me she isnt crying, just sniffling, because shes got a cold. But Im grown up now and know that theres no cold that leaves tears in your voice.
Alice’s father sat with her at a little table in a tea shop, stirring his cold, minuscule cup of coffee with a spoon that seemed to shrink with each turn.
And Alice hadnt touched her ice cream, even though in the glass in front of her sat an artwork: iridescent scoops, a mint leaf and a cherry on top, drizzled in glossy chocolate.
Any six-year-old girl would have swooned over the decadence. But not Alice, whod decidedmaybe last Fridayto have a serious talk with her dad.
For a long time, her father sat silent; finally, he spoke:
What are we to do, daughter? Never see each other again? How will I go on?..
Alice wrinkled her noseit was delightful and a bit buttony, just like her mums, she thoughtthen answered:
No, dad. I need you as well. Lets do this. Call mum and tell her youll fetch me from school every Friday.
Well have a stroll or, if you fancy coffee or ice cream, we can sit here. Ill tell you everything about how life is with mum.
She pondered again, minute passing in silence, then continued:
And if you want to see mum, Ill record her on my phone every week and show you the photos. Would you like that?
Her father gazed at his wise little girl, smiled quietly, and nodded:
All right, lets live like this, Alice
Alice sighed, relief blossoming. She tucked into her ice cream at last, but the conversation wasnt finished. She still had the most important point to make, so when she had a multicoloured moustache from the melting scoops, she licked it away and straightened up, nearly grown-up.
Almost a woman. One who had to look after her maneven if her man was growing old: last week her father had his birthday. Alice had drawn him a card at nursery, colouring in the huge number 28 with care.
Her face became solemn again, eyebrows drawn tight. She said:
I think you ought to get married
And generously fibbed:
After all, youre not very old yet
Her father appreciated the gesture of goodwill, and snorted:
Not very, you say Thats rich!
Alice, undeterred, pressed on:
Not very, not very! Look at Uncle George, whos visited mum twice alreadyhes even balding, just here
Alice tapped the top of her head, smoothing her curls with a palm. She faltered when her dads face darkened and his eyes flashed; shed let slip mums secret.
Both hands clamped over her mouth, eyes became rounder stillpure shock and confusion.
Uncle George? Which Uncle George keeps popping round? Mums boss?.. Dads voice boomed, nearly shaking the whole tea shop.
I, dad, dont know Alice grew bewildered at this outburst. Perhaps he is the boss. He brings me sweets. And cake for us all.
And Alice weighed whether sharing such hidden knowledge was wise, especially with dad being so peculiarbrings mum flowers.
Her father clasped his hands on the table and stared at them for a long time. Alice sensed he was making a weighty decision right then.
She waited, didnt rush. She knewor guessed, at leastthat men are slow thinkers, and sometimes need a push towards the right choice.
And who better to nudge than a womanespecially one of the dearest in his life.
Her father was taciturn, but finally chose. He sighed loudly, lifted his head and said Had Alice been older, shed have recognised his words were as heavy as Othellos to Desdemona.
But she didnt yet know Othello or Desdemona, nor any other tragic lovers. She was simply gaining experience in a world where people rejoiced and suffered, sometimes over the smallest things.
So, her dad spoke:
Come on, daughter. Its late, Ill take you home. And have a word with mum while Im there.
Alice didnt ask what he meant to discuss; she understood it was serious, so she quickly finished her ice cream.
She sensed that whatever her father had decided was far more important than the tastiest treat, so she flung her spoon onto the table, slid off her chair, wiped sticky lips with the back of her hand, sniffed a little, and looking straight at her dad, said:
Im ready. Shall we go
Home wasn’t a walk so much as a dash. Dad ran, tugging Alice by the hand, who was almost billowing, a flag in the spring breeze.
When they stormed into the block, the lift doors closed slowly, carrying a neighbour skywards. Her father glanced at Alice, somewhat lost. She looked up at him from below and asked:
Well? What are we waiting for? Its only the seventh floor
Dad swept her into his arms and hurried up the staircase.
After a volley of impatient rings, mum finally opened the door, and dad blurted out straight away:
You cant do this! Whos George? I love you! And we have Alice
Without letting go of Alice, he wrapped mum up in an embrace. And Alice hugged both their necks at once and squeezed her eyes shut. Because the grown-ups were kissing
And sometimes in life, two clumsy adults are soothed by a little girl loving them both, and though they love her, and each other, pride and hurts linger
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