[Act Two, Scene Four]
If there was one game Alice was good at playing, it was 'Let's Pretend'. After all, she'd been playing it most her life.
It was her father who'd taught her the rules. She'd been barely six then, sobbing because the bigger girls down the road had stolen her favourite doll, and Cho Jun Xiang had sat her on his knee and told her, without preamble, just how much of a little fool she was. It had been the complete lack of sympathy in his voice, rather than the words themselves, that had shocked her into silence.
"They stole your doll because you were any easy target. And by running home crying, you let them see just how much power they have over you," he'd said, though not unkindly. These were big concepts for a little girl, but Alice listened very carefully indeed, knowing that her father only spoke like this when what he was saying was very, very important. "But if you pretend that it doesn't hurt, then they can't hurt you, you see? Like a still lake – reflecting everything, revealing nothing. So smile, Ling-Ling. There's a good girl."
And so Alice smiled. She smiled at the girls who'd stole her favourite doll, pretending their taunts the next day didn't affect her at all. She smiled at the boy at school who'd only said he liked her to date her best friend. And later, when her mother became a woman with a stranger's eyes and 'home' was the last place she wanted to be, Alice kept smiling, pretending – for her father's sake, and her mother's sake, and perhaps, her own sake – that life was perfect and she was blissfully happy and absolutely nothing was wrong. Because her father was a public man, an important man, and people needed to see them smile.
"Smile, Ling-Ling. There's a good girl."
Calling upon her father's words, the smile came easily to Alice's face as she exited the lavish suite with a light hand on Arthur's arm, even though her palms were sweaty and she was terrified, certain that they'd be caught. It was a wide, sweet smile, too carefree to be real, but it proved to be enough as they'd swept down the corridor with no one the wiser.
Alice's shoulders relaxed a fraction when they turned the corner and ducked into a more private alcove at the end, which opened out into an expansive mezzanine view of the dazzling ballroom two stories below. Enormous crystal chandeliers hung from the frescoed, gilded ceilings, the light bouncing off each glittering, transparent surface like a thousand miniature golden suns. Large mirrors on the walls only magnified the ostentatious, surreal quality of the room, and the marble floor was already densely packed with costumed guests in all manner of colourful finery. Although the wine was plentiful and the music frenzied, everyone appeared to be behaving with perfect decorum and social grace, much to Alice's relief.
"If we mingle with the guests, we should be able to find an exit on the ground level where we can slip out undetected," Arthur murmured, the muted tones giving his voice an almost sensual quality as he whispered into her ear. Alice's lips parted, her pulse leaping at the light graze of his lips, while her mind fought desperately for clarity and reason. To any passerby who chanced upon them standing there, Arthur, with his arm lightly around her waist and his head dipped low against hers, appeared to be just another gentleman whispering sweet nothings to his lady friend. "There's a door at the other end of the room leading out. It's probably our best bet."
Alice nodded, breaking away from Arthur's half-embrace as she led them both to a winding iron-wrought staircase that opened out into a discreet corner of the ballroom below. When she could trust herself to speak in a reasonably normal, steady voice, she looked up at Arthur, an almost impish gleam in her eyes. "…You can dance, right?"
By then they'd reached the bottom of the staircase. Arthur merely bowed in response, slowly backing her into the room as the pianist struck up a waltz. His arms came around her, and then they were dancing.
Brightly masked people blurred into kaleidoscopes of brilliant colour and ambient noise as Alice was whirled around the dance floor. As the clock hands on the north wall edged closer to the thirteenth hour, Alice pushed aside her worries and lost herself to the music. 'Grand Waltz in E-flat major', she thought blissfully, closing her eyes as Arthur dipped her with the beat. She didn't realise she'd actually spoken out loud until she opened her eyes to find him staring down at her with brows raised, a droll, questioning look in his eyes.
Alice blushed. "I like classical music," she said defensively. "I grew up listening to the late-classical and romantic composers. This piece has always been my favourite Chopin waltz, but I never got advanced enough on the piano to play it."
"It's nice," Arthur conceded, as he whirled her on the floor, moving strategically towards the far garden exit. "Though I prefer jazz myself – Gershwin, Fitzgerald, Piaf. French opera, too, on occasion."
He twirled her smoothly, before pulling her gently back into the circle of his arms. "You don't seem surprised," he murmured, when Alice only gave a noncommittal hum.
She smiled, and caught up in the moment, an uncharacteristically arch response slipped out before her brain could censor it. "I would've been surprised if you said you were a closet fan of Justin Bieber and Japanese death metal."
Immediately, she winced. Arthur just chuckled. It was a surprising, refreshing sound, but gone as quickly as it had come.
As she was twirled around again, Alice caught a flash of black from the corner of her eye. Six men in suits were beginning to close in on them from different corners of the room. From the deliberate, efficient way they moved, Alice knew they could only be security personnel. She tensed. "Arthur," she hissed. "I think we have a problem."
Arthur bent his head closer. "Relax. Pretend you didn't see them." Acting upon his own words, Arthur continued to spin them around the floor as if nothing were wrong. Only Alice felt the deliberate turning in their dance, as Arthur guided them faster and faster towards the garden exit.
Their plans were foiled by the appearance of another security guard, cutting them off from the side. Forced to retreat, Arthur had no choice but to back them towards the only space that was free, a darker corner of the room where the heavy drapes cloaked the guests there in long shadows.
Alice gulped, watching from around Arthur's shoulder as the men moved closer and closer. They were unobtrusive enough that none of the other guests paid them any heed, but she could see that they had a very clear goal in mind.
She and Arthur had been discovered.