The gathering at her uncle’s house was larger than Alice had anticipated. Smoke hung thickly in the air, clinging to the inside of her nostrils, and invading her lungs. A great number of her aunts and uncles most regularly. The scene of adults at various heights on different seats often reminded of her of old Victorian paintings. Each person representing another building huffing plumes of smoke in the wizened cityscape.
She had, so far, avoided her uncle. Her aunt had opened the door to greet them, and it was far busier inside than the supposed ‘evening meal’ that was described. Alice couldn’t imagine how any of them would be able to sit in a single room to eat, never mind a single table.
She had tried to evade the worst of the smoke and noise by sitting on the bottom step to read, but people continued to walk past her and jostled her as they did so. Each new person that spotted her would strike up a similar conversation.
“My word, look how big you’ve grown!”
“Haven’t you grown tall? And still reading, I see?”
“Good book? I remember reading to you when you were just a little tyke.”
Alice would nod politely to each one, agreeing and making polite conversation until they stumbled past to continue up towards the vacant bathroom. She patiently endured, mindful that leaving her spot would inevitably lead to further intrusion by well-meaning family members. Eventually, her rumbling stomach could no longer be ignored, and she left the relative safety of the stairs to seek out her parents.
Her mother was the first to be spotted, nestled in between several other women like a gaggle of hens in a roost. Her face lit up when she noticed that Alice had appeared at the doorway. She beckoned her towards the group with a hand that held a half-empty glass of red wine. Her other hand held a cigarette resolutely still.
Her approach caused the gaggle to croon and coo. Waves of embarrassment flooded her as she stood before them awkwardly. Her hands grasped at the pleats of her dress and she wished that she hadn’t decided to leave her blanket at home.
“There you are!” announced her mother, as though she wasn’t aware of Alice’s preferred hiding spot during these events. “Aren’t we lucky! All the family from Lancashire have come over to surprise Grandad too!”
“Look at you, Alice. You’ve got so big!” one of the older women added.
“And so pretty as well,” commented an elderly lady to Alice’s left with a wink.
“The spit of her mother,” said the heavyset woman beside her mother as she laid a hand on her mother’s arm, smiling warmly.
Alice said nothing but could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.
Alice’s mother introduced her to each of the women in turn. When she introduced the heavyset woman as Julie, Julie waved her hand in a shooing motion.
“Don’t be silly,” she interrupted. “You remember me, don’t you Alice?” she asked with an expectant smile.
“Stop mithering, Julie,” chided the elderly woman. “You can’t expect the poor bairn to remember. She was still in nappies, for Heaven’s sake.”
Julie pouted, clearly hurt by the statement. It seemed ridiculous that an adult would be bothered by such a small thing, but she had Alice’s sympathy.
“Of course I remember you, Auntie Julie,” Alice confirmed, despite having no idea who this sweet woman was or whether they were even related by blood. Then, taking a leap of faith, “You used to read to me when I was little.”
Julie’s beaming smile could have competed with the sun rising. She gushed with joy both to Alice and the women around her. “Isn’t she a good girl? I knew that she’d remember me.”
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Alice’s mother flashed her a knowing wink whilst Julie’s attention was focused away from her. It made Alice grin, especially as she was feeling more at ease now that the women were clucking amongst themselves. This was despite the fact that much of their talk was still about her. It was easier to feel detached from the conversation when they were regaling tales from her infancy. Something which, despite her white lie, Alice certainly didn’t remember.
A rumble from her stomach casually reminded Alice of why she had sought out her mother to start with.
“When are we eating?” she asked quietly.
“It’s a buffet, Sweetheart. You can help yourself in the kitchen. Food’s all laid out,” her mother replied before drinking deeply from her glass. “Take this to your father. Ask him for a top-up, please,” she added, holding out the glass for Alice to take.
With a nod, Alice left for the kitchen. The glass wasn’t quite empty so she kept it clasped to her chest in fear that someone might knock it from her hands. Though even with an errant bump, she felt sure that there was too little to actually spill.
Raucous male laughter erupted from the kitchen as she approached, and her nose scrunched with displeasure. Her uncle could be heard, braying loudly, amid the noise. All appetite that she had immediately abandoned her. Alas, the near-empty glass remained in her hand, and she knew that she couldn’t return without fulfilling her mother’s request. Besides, her father was in the kitchen too. Surely her uncle would be unwise to make any of his usual foul comments in his presence?
Hesitantly, she peered around the corner, still hoping that she might be able to creep in unnoticed. Disappointingly, her father was at the far end of the room. Worse, he was standing shoulder to shoulder with her uncle as well.
Her heart twisted as she approached as it was her uncle that spotted her first. He nudged her father, then pointed in her direction.
“There she is now. Without her blanket. Will wonders never cease?” her uncle commented dryly before taking a swig from the can of beer in his hand. Alice’s mother called them ‘louts’ when they were people from other families. She wondered if other people pointed out her uncle as a lout when he stood making unwelcome comments at passers-by with alcohol in hand.
Pointedly refusing to acknowledge her uncle’s remark, she handed the near-empty glass to her father. “Mum asked if you’d be able to top her up. I can take it through for her.”
“Glad to see your wife is teaching her good manners,” commented her uncle sardonically.
Her father chuckled and shook his head wryly as he reached for the offered glass. “Ignore him, Pumpkin. Nothing but a bad-tempered old goat since his team lost the game.”
Alice forced a wan smile.
“Surprised that she’s not all dolled up. Feels like they all want to grow up too fast with makeup and short skirts,” her uncle said. “Though Alice won’t want to show off her pins, will she?”
The hairs on Alice’s neck prickled angrily and she gritted her teeth. What business did he have deciding what she should and shouldn’t wear? He wasn’t even bothered about her leg when it happened.
“Let her alone. She’s still just a girl,” her father responded gruffly. Alice took comfort in the was that he seemed equally as disgusted by this line of questioning by her uncle as she did.
“Though, to be fair, you wouldn’t even know anything had happened unless you were really looking for it,” her father then informed him smugly. “Show him, Pumpkin,” he asked Alice with enthusiasm.
So much for fatherly support. Alice could think of nothing that she wished to do less, but she acquiesced her father’s request. Grudgingly, she lifted her skirt to just above her knee and awkwardly thrust her leg slightly in her uncle’s direction. She wasn’t expecting him to dip suddenly and grab her calf. The feel of his fingers on her warm flesh made her skin crawl. Like slugs clinging to her skin, they were cold and faintly wet from the condensation of the can he held. Alice felt locked in place, as though his grip had severed her control of her limbs, paralysing, and preventing her escape.
“Got to thank those doctors. Miracle workers really,” agreed her father, oblivious to her discomfort.
Her uncle let go, but the feeling of unease remained.
“Why not leave her here with us next weekend? Save you finding a sitter,” he asked her father. Alice balked at both the sudden change in topic as well as the offer itself. Why would she ever want, or need, to sleep over?
Her father laughed. “She’s 12. Practically a young woman now. She can manage an evening on her own.”
“A second ago, she was just a girl,” her uncle replied with a smirk.
Alice didn’t like the direction that this conversation was heading in. She didn’t like the tone her uncle used when he described her as ‘just’ a girl. She especially didn’t like the way that they just talked about her while she was standing right there.
Her father seemed to ignore her uncle’s snide comment.
“Would that be alright with you, Pumpkin?” her father asked her with a concerned look on his face. “Just for the night so me and your mother can head out for our anniversary?”
Alice wanted to tell her father exactly what she thought of the idea. She wanted to stamp her feet and storm from the room. She wanted to tell the whole room that she’d rather eat dirt.
All that she managed to say was, “That’ll be fine, Dad.”