Crackling sounds of the radio filtered through the door of Alice's room and into her sleeping ears. Grumbling inaudibly, Alice raised her head, sending death glares to the door. Her hair was a tangled mess of blonde over her eyes and she attempted to pull her fingers through the knotted strands as she sat up. God, it felt so early. She glanced on the side table at the small white clock. It was sort of early. Why? She hadn't gotten home that late the previous evening.
It couldn't have been past nine. Alice's mother hadn't said a single prying word as Alice walked through the door, just gave a gentle smile, a quiet welcome home and a good evening as Alice went to her bedroom for the night. Not that she was getting off scot-free from an interrogation. Alice knew her mother was just waiting until the morning to spring the questions. Well, time to face the music. Figuratively and literally as well. The radio still played from the other side of the wood.
Dragging herself out of bed, Alice forced her legs to bring her to the doorknob, not caring about her disheveled appearance. It was just her mother. No need to look special. A smile reluctantly crossed her face as she opened the door and heard the song on the radio more clearly. It was Vera Lynn's 'Red Sails in the Sunset', a favorite of hers. Well, that wasn't so bad.
Her mother was waiting. She was seated at the round table, a cup of tea in front of her, a sly smile gracing red lips. Alice felt the mild dread build up in her stomach. The phrase 'lamb to the slaughter' crossed her mind.
"So love, how was last night?" Mary asked. She wasn't wasting any time.
Alice scoffed. "Irritating."
What kind of mother would leave it at that? Mary's smile didn't let up. "Really now? That's a shame, dear. What happened?"
"Nothing, really, nothing happened. Francoise left us, and so we just sat there, staring at each other. It was silent and awkward and he was obnoxious and not very bright."
She wasn't convinced and pursed her lips at her daughter questioningly. "Did you really give him a chance, love?"
"Of course I did." Alice rolled her eyes. "And I will sincerely tell you that it was one of the worst dates of my life."
Mary smiled softly again. "Alice, sweetheart, you don't go on many dates. Saying this one wasn't good isn't really saying much."
Alice sat back. "Mother, I know what I think is and is not enjoyable. I did not have a good time on that date last night and that is that. Good God, I don't even want to think of it as a date. It was just something Francoise roped me into for her own means. End of story. Can we please drop it?"
Her mother raised her hands in mock surrender, a playful look in her eyes. "I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to pry. I just want you happy, that's all."
"Thank you."
"Now that that's out of the way," Mary said briskly, moving on seamlessly. "Get dressed, please. You have some chores to do and I don't want you doing them in your panties."
Alice's eyes widened a little with distaste. "Please don't say things like that, Mother. It isn't tasteful." She pulled her chair out from the table and stood up, already angling her back towards the tiny hallway.
"You say worse quite often, as I recall."
"Perhaps, but never around you." And Alice left, ending that conversation.
No sooner had Alice shut her bedroom door than she heard a knock on another one. She heard the clicking of her mother's heels as she rose from the table to answer it and Alice scoffed, buttoning on a threadbare white blouse before reaching for an apron. Probably Francoise, Alice muttered to herself. Why is that daft girl over here so early? I was with her enough last night. I swear, that girl is going to drive me to the madhouse-
"Alice, could you come here please?"
She was almost surprised that it was her mother's voice instead of Francoise's. The blonde exhaled a breath of annoyance. "Coming Mother!" she called, tying on the apron. Francoise would probably tsk disapprovingly for an hour on just how plain and unfashionable Alice looked. She gritted her teeth as she turned towards the door, not bothering to put her hair into their usual pigtails. What was the point? Alice stepped out of her room and down the short hallway to the kitchen. "Yes Mother, do we have a visitor-"
Her annoyed scowling was cut off by a scream of shock followed by the stunned girl hastily covering her chest with her arms. Her face grew bright cherry red. Standing before her in the doorway to her home, next to her mother (who was frowning at her daughter's outburst,) was Alfred. The idiot American G.I. In her home. And staring at her.
Alice needed a moment to pick her jaw up off the floor. Why was he here?! Why, why, oh why? To make matters worse, her mother was still staring at her disapprovingly. The blonde girl finally found her voice again, backing up from her stance.
"… what the bloody hell are you doing here?" she spat, not able to reign herself back in much, even with her mother's stare on her. "How do you even know where I live, you creep?"
"Alice, dear, calm down," Mary warned her daughter. She looked up and down her daughter's outfit, trying not to draw attention to it. God knows Alice would be mortified enough.
"I ask you again, how do you know where I live?" Alice repeated, her voice starting to go shrill. Mary continued to glare at her, defiantly stepping aside and gesturing Alfred in, much to her daughter's dismay. "Mother!"
"Alice, might I remind you of what you are wearing?" she pointed out, referring to her daughter's barely dressed state. The reminder earned an embarrassed squeak from Alice, causing the girl to scurry backwards to her room and slam the door. Mary sighed and turned to the poor bewildered soldier, clearly having no idea what had just happened. "I am dreadfully sorry about her. Can I get you anything?"
Back in her room, Alice had slid to the ground against the door in mortification. Oh dear Lord. He was in her house. She didn't know how. But he was. And her mother was being such a traitor, letting him in! And of course she was in barely more than her undergarments. Of course she was. She silently cursed Francoise in her head, standing up. It was as if the Frenchwoman had done all this, somehow. Alice certainly wouldn't put it past her, the little she-demon. That irrepressible little tramp in her mission of 'l'amour'.
And now her mother had betrayed her as well. Nothing Alice could do about that now. She groaned, starting to get dressed. She couldn't hide out in here now. Her mother would drag her out here, since Alfred was obviously here to see her. Again, very creepy of him. Alice threw on a plain, patched grey skirt before brushing her hair and putting it up carefully and leaving her room reluctantly.
When she entered the kitchen, she found Alfred sitting next to her mother, a small steaming cup in front of him and an uncomfortable look on his face as he looked up at Alice. Alice scowled at him, keeping her distance from him as she marched across the kitchen to the stove. "May I ask you now, what you are doing here, Mr. Jones?" she asked icily.
"Alice," her mother said slowly, answering for Alfred before he could open his mouth too wide. "He has something for you." She gestured to the space on the table between them. On the table lay a small faded brown purse.
"You left your pocketbook at the bar last night. This kind young man was merely returning it."
Alice pressed her lips together awkwardly. Oh. So he hadn't been stalking her. Nor had Francoise given him her address. He had probably found it in the bag. She grimaced, staring down at the stove. "My apologies," she muttered.
"It's a-okay," Alfred said cautiously. Her mom seemed nice enough, but Alice was still freaking at the sight of him. He needed to find some way to calm her down. He had done it for a second last night. It was possible. "Just wanted to get it back to you, you know."
She nodded sharply, still looking down. "I see. Thank you."
Mary smiled lightly. "And while you were taking your time getting dressed, Alice, I was speaking to Lieutenant Jones here about last night."
Alice glanced up at her mother, her eyes wide. That didn't sound good. Well, for her anyway. Her mother's smile deepened. Oh no. That was a cunning smile. Her mother was planning something. "And he also mentioned something about taking you out for lunch today. With Francoise and… what was the other one's name again?" she asked, turning back to Alfred for a moment.
"Matt. My brother," he told her patiently before looking up at Alice, smiling again like he had last night. All bright and full of optimism. "Yeah. I had a helluva time last night. So I'd like you to go out with me today, if you wouldn't mind."
"She'd love to," Mary said with an almost equally bright smile, answering for her daughter. Alice stiffened. So that was it. She didn't get a choice here, did she?
Nope.
Alfred's face absolutely lit up, not even noticing Alice's look of absolute horror. "She will? You mean you will?" he asked enthusiastically, looking like a boy whose father was home for his birthday. "Aw, this is great!" He shot up from his chair, shaking the table. Poor boy looked like he was going to explode from sheer excitement.
"Yes, I'll have her ready for you by eleven," Mary promised, looking very satisfied with herself. Alice narrowed her eyes at her. She wasn't getting away with this. Or maybe she was.
"Mother-" Alice tried to slip in, but to no avail. Her mother kept on talking over her, helping a very eager Alfred to the door.
"Pick her up here around eleven, will you dear?" Mary asked Alfred sweetly, met by eager nodding. "Alright then love, she'll see you then. Now, thank you for dropping by for a spell, but I'm sure a soldier like you is a busy man. You best be getting along now," she insisted, shooing him out the door. "And again, thank you for returning my daughter's pocketbook. Goodbye now." With that, she finally shut the door with Alfred on the other side of it. If you listened closely, you could hear muffled sounds of excitement coming from the other side.
Alice was stone faced as her mother sat back down at the table, sipping her tea like nothing happened. "Now then, Alice. You have chores to get on, girl."
".. what... in the name of the Queen was that?" Alice asked at long last, her mouth gaping. "Did you ever think of asking me if I even wanted to go out with the git? Of which I don't?"
Mary gave her a patient look. "Alice, dear, you are going to thank me for this," she assured her.
"May I ask how?"
She sighed. "Alice, you never go out. It's not healthy for a young lady to have no social life. You need to go out and be with your friends." Alice opened her mouth to protest, but once again, Mary gave her no mind. "I think you should give that young man a chance," she added.
"I gave him a chance last night."
"You did not give him a fair chance last night, and you know it," she pointed out. "In the little time I spoke to him, he seems like a very kind young man. Just go today, Alice. Really give him a chance. What do you have to lose?"
"My self-respect," Alice grumbled, turning away to grab the broom tucked into the corner of the kitchen.
"That's the spirit." Mary gave a cheery smile behind her back, sipping. "Now get to work on your chores, dearie. Don't want you to end up late for Lieutenant Jones."
"Wouldn't want that," the blonde muttered bitterly, taking the broom and falling into silence.
