Imaginary Friend
For the third day in a row, crowds of students buzzed around Alice at St. Michaels Primary School. Word had spread through the corridors that Alice was a true oracle and a brilliant listenereveryone wanted a piece of her wisdom. Classmates caught her by the lockers, sat across from her in the canteen, and brought her sweets, notebooks with half-done homework, and other small offerings, which, curiously, she always politely refused.
I fancy James from Year 5, confided Catherine, her classmate, eyes dreamy. Do you reckon well get married one day?
Wouldnt recommend it, Alice replied, nibbling a scone and sipping her tea, unfazed. James only looks sweet, but he picks his nose and eats the bogeys. Might never starve, but thats about ithell spend his life rooting about for something unpleasant.
Ugh, gross! Well, what about Thomas? He gets top marks and hes learning to play guitar, Catherine said, her smile returning along with her hopes.
Oh, Thomas, said Alice, shaking her head. He torments catsties tin cans to their tails and chases them down the road. Hell turn mean, and soon enough hell be drinking, too.
Why would you say that?
Well, have you ever met a sober guitarist? Anyway, youve got better things to focus on. Work on your maths and stop biting your nails or youll catch worms.
I havent got any friends. Everyone calls me fat and nobody wants to play with me, said Paul from Year 4, pushing Catherine down the bench with a gentle nudge.
Sign up for judo on Wednesdayits booked with the PE teacher. You wont lose a stone overnight, but theyll stop calling you names. And stop shoving your future wife about.
With that, Alice took her tray to the return counter.
Alice, do you think I should learn to drive this year or next? Mrs. Foster, the geography teacher, asked as she dried her hands at the sink.
Mrs. Foster, you round about need a car to drive, and all youve got is your dads old Vauxhall. See the difference?
Suppose I do
Alice rolled her eyes and, rinsing her hands, continued matter-of-factly, Sell the poor thingbuy a bicycle and a pair of shorts instead. In another two months, someonell be giving you a lift to work anyway. Or better still, get a mortgagerates are nice and low, and still living with your parents at thirty-five is hardly the done thing. Just so you know.
With a bewildered glance in her wake, Alice marched off to her textiles lesson.
While her classmates painstakingly figured out the tailor’s tape and fumbled with sewing machine needles, Alice mended the trousers shed brought from home, took in a skirt, and crocheted a pair of thick socks, which she presented to Mrs. Grant, the textiles teacher, remarking that pregnant ladies must keep their feet warm. Mrs. Grant was so flustered she asked to leave early and dashed to Boots for a test. The next day the class feasted on a delicious chocolate cake from Mrs. Grant as thanks to Alice.
She acted oddly at home, too. She told her mum off for buying packaged mince and made dumplings from scratch. Instead of watching YouTube in the evening, she sat down with The Three Musketeers and sometimes muttered quietly, as if in conversation. Her dad glanced up from his computer, only for Alice to point out that he was slouching. Youd be better off beating the rug outdoors, she scolded. Stop faffing about on those dodgy websites.
Rumours swirled around school. The teachers panicked. A psychologist was called. An emergency meeting of the entire teaching staff, including the head, was organised during the school day.
Alice, sweetheart, has anyone been unkind to you at school? began the doctor, sporting a fashionable beard and glasses.
Im bothered by the fact that the council were allotted millions for the school and all weve got in the gym is a battered old horse and two yards of rope, Alice shot back, twirling her plaits absentmindedly.
All eyes turned to the headteacher, who slipped out through the open window toward an urgent meeting.
You dont have any friends?
Friendship is an abstract concept, Alice replied flatly. One day youre playing tag at break, next day your so-called mate is up to her elbows rinsing your dishes while you sort out a self-assessment tax rebate.
Dishes? Tax rebates? Whos been telling you this?
My friend.
There we are then! Could you invite her in?
Shes right here, said Alice simply, to the bafflement of all present.
But we cant see her. Whats her name?
Rosemary Charlotte.
And how old is she?
Seventy.
What else has she told you?
She says brush your teeth from your gums, not just across. The dog on our street isnt nasty, just frightened and hungry. Never forget your family. Oh, and by the wayyour property tax has been miscalculated these last five years. You need to go down to the Land Registry and have them reassess it at market valuethey were using the old council figures.
The psychologist made thorough notes, underlining the last bit twice.
A phone call went out over the loudspeaker to Alices parents at work.
Hang on a minute! her fathers excited voice came through. That was my mums name! She passed away ten years ago.
There were soft gasps and whispers of prayers all around.
Exactly, Alice said quietly. Ten years, and no ones even visited her grave. The grass is long, and the railings are falling over.
Well, I I meant to, just never seemed to find the time her dad muttered awkwardly.
The session ended.
The following day, Alices whole family visited the cemetery. She had never met her grandmother, only heard stories from her father. The grave wasnt easy to findthe field of marble stones had grown wild, nothing like the old pine woods. Alice brought a bouquet of yellow daffodils and placed them in a cut-up plastic bottle. Her father straightened the fence, and her mum cleared away the weeds.
Dad, Grandma says youre a good person, but youve buried yourself in work and online, so youve not got much time for anythingeven me, she said gently.
Her father blushed and nodded without a word.
Promise well make things better? he asked quietly, patting Alices head, then reaching out to the faded photograph on the stone.
Shes at peace now. She wont visit me again, though Ill miss her terribly. She was so kind, so cheerful, and so wise.
Thats right. She always could see through people. Has she said anything else?
Yes. She said your cucumber diet is pointless. If you want to lose weight, go to the gym. And opening that foreign currency account was daftshould have done your homework first. And about that cheap concrete you ordered for the shed foundation
Some bonds last far longer than a lifetime, and sometimes the wisdom of those we loved echoes on, gently nudging us to live better, love deeper, and make time for what truly matters.
