Chapter 4
While her parents spoke with Mrs. Brodie and thanked her for looking after their wayward daughter, Alice said good-bye to Ben.
"I… err… don't reckon you'll be in London again soon, eh?" asked Ben, looking down.
"I rather doubt it," she answered. "I rather doubt I'll be outside my house soon, or my room for that matter." She watched her parents nervously. She wished she knew what Ben's mother was telling them. She was in for it this time, for sure. She'd never seen her mother turn quite that shade of red, or heard her father speak so softly.
"Well, then I… err… well…" Ben was mumbling something incoherent, but Alice wasn't listening anyway.
"What is she telling them?" she asked the air over Ben's shoulder.
He glanced back for a moment, realizing that she wasn't listening to him. "I… err… don't know. She's probably just saying how you're perfect next to me, and they should be lucky…" he paused, turning a little red.
"Oh, no. They're coming over here. This is it," she looked at Ben for the first time in several minutes. "I'd better say good-bye now. There won't be much time-"
"Alcestis! We're leaving. Come along." Her mother breezed past them after making her formal goodbyes to Mrs. Brodie at the bar. Reaching into a pot over the mantle, she threw a handful of floo powder into the flames, stepped into the fireplace and disappeared.
"Yes, Alice, we should be going. If you're ready?" Her father paused at the hearth.
Alice hung her head and went to him. "Yes, sir." Mr. Grey patted her shoulder and then followed her mother into the fire. Alice glanced back at the pub before doing the same.
"Bye Alice!" she heard Ben call as she disappeared into the flames. Watching the Leaky Cauldron fade, Alice wondered if she'd ever see him again. Then she remembered the looks on her parents' faces when they found her and wondered if she'd ever see anyone again.
One very tense hour later Alice sat hunched on her parents' couch watching her mother wear a hole in the carpet.
"Cass, is that really necessary? You're making me dizzy." Alice's father had collapsed in his favorite arm chair as soon as he cleared the fireplace. Since then he had been watching her pace with a half-amused expression on his face.
Mrs. Grey stopped and glared at her husband. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, dear. I am simply trying to understand what could have possessed your daughter-"
"My daughter?"
"Yes, darling. No one in my family has this… problem."
"Now Cass, don't you think you're being just a bit-"
"A bit what? Harsh? I suppose I'm meant to smile and apologize to the child and ask her what we ever did wrong to make her feel that she had to run away? Well, I'm sorry, Thomas, but I won't! We have done nothing wrong! We have been nothing but understanding and considerate of her feelings. What about my feelings? I told you years ago that there was something wrong-"
"Cassandra!" He was sitting on the edge of the chair now. He caught his wife's hand as she made her thirty-seventh pass of the room. "Listen to yourself! Can you blame her?"
Mrs. Grey looked at her daughter for the first time since leaving the pub. She sighed and kneeled beside the couch, taking her daughter's hands. "Alice, there is something we should-"
"Cass, I don't think this is the time-"
"When is the time Tom? On her eleventh birthday when she wonders why no letter arrives from Hogwarts? The day after that? A month later when she's given up hope of ever being accepted…" When he didn't have an answer, she turned back to her daughter and spoke in a softer tone. "Alice, there's something you should know."
"I know, Mum." Alice's voice was almost lost.
"You know, Alice?" her mother hedged. "What do you know?"
Alice took a deep breath and looked her mother in the eye. "That I'm a squib." Out of the corner of her eye Alice saw her father make a startled motion towards her. "I've known for ages."
"Then you must also know," her mother began. "You must also know that life will be somewhat... different for you than for your sister..."
"Yes, Mum."
"We will have to make some changes," she said, looking at Alice's father. She stood and recommenced pacing the room. "Accommodations must be made. Things must be looked to."
"Cass, you're scaring her," murmured Mr. Grey.
"We must- I- what? Oh dear." She paused by her husband's chair and looked down at him. "Perhaps it would be better if you... I mean to say that I'm not..."
"Of course, dear. Perhaps you should place that call we talked about? Use the fireplace in our room."
"Yes. Yes, I will," she glanced at her daughter. "Just now. Alice, darling, listen to your father. We've had a long talk and I think this is truly what's best- I've got to go." She hurried from the room. Soon Alice could almost make out her mother's low tones in the other room. That call must be terribly important. When she turned to her father he had pulled his chair closer to the couch. His face bore the most serious look she had seen in her young life. More serious than the purple cat fiasco, more serious than when she'd failed at the platform. More serious than when he'd found her at The Leaky Cauldron. And sad. "What's wrong, Daddy?" she asked. She thought she could hear her own heartbeat in the silence that followed. Her father seemed to move in slow motion as he raised one hand to brush her hair out of her face.
"Ally, dearest." Alice saw tears in his eyes and wished she could say anything to make them go away. "Ally, your mother and I... we've been talking to the family about how best to deal with your... problem."
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
"It's not your fault." He almost smiled at her innocence. He shook his head. "But still, we cannot go on as if nothing was wrong. We must take action, as your mother says. We have spoken with the family, as I said, and the general consensus, the general agreement, is that you cannot stay here... cannot stay with us."
"But where will I-"
"Just listen, darling. Your mother is speaking with your Grandma Emily." As if to prove his point, Alice heard her mother's voice rise, "Now Emily, really! What else *could* we do? She's so miserable--"
"But Grandma Emily-" Alice began. She knew that her grandmother was a Muggle, but the Kwikspell courses had made her passable as a witch. Alice had already tried those courses and found them of no use, so what could they possibly want from her grandmother now?
"My mother is, as you know-"
"A Muggle."
"I was going to say an American," her father corrected, "but I suppose both are true. And both will be useful to us now."
"I don't understand."
"My mother's side of the family still live abroad. They are none of them witches or wizards. They will be able to give you what you need. You would be at a disadvantage growing up here, living here. Don't you see? This is you chance to lead a normal life. No one there will mock you for not having magic. They won't have the same expectations."
"So I'm to move to America?" Alice asked, tentatively. She tried to hide her excitement, as her father still looked pained. She didn't want to hurt his feelings by seeming too eager to go, but it felt as though he were offering her an immense freedom. To leave St. Ives! To live among other nonmagical people and be accepted as a normal girl!
"It may only be for a little while. Alice, you're not eleven yet. We don't know that you're... that you're..."
"A squib, Dad. And I am. There's no magic in me. You don't have to be careful about it. I know what I am."
"No, you don't. Have you been talking to Grandpa Jack? I told your mother-"
"Dad, stop it. You can't blame Mum for how her family is."
Her father smiled. "When did you get so smart? You sound practically all grown-up."
Alice blushed.
"Tom?" her mother called then. "Tom? Your mother wants to speak to you." Her father squeezed her arm and went into the other room.
Alone again, Alice leaned back into the couch and closed her eyes. She tried to picture her new life in America. What were her Muggle relatives like? What... what... was that awful noise? Her eyes popped open and she muffled a squeal at the sight of a disembodied head in her fireplace. "Hello? Is anyone there?" asked the head.
Shaking herself, Alice answered the call, "Hello? Who is it? My parents are on the other line..."
"Oh dear, and I was looking forward to speaking with them." The head seemed to belong to a woman her parents' age, perhaps a bit younger. As Alice considered it, she noticed a resemblance to her father. The stranger had the same kind eyes. "You must be Alice," the woman was saying now. "I've heard so much about you from Aunt Emily. I can't wait to have you come to stay with us. I must admit that this-" she looked around the dusty fireplace, "is a little too odd for me."
"I'm sorry... who are you?" Alice asked.
"Oh! How rude of me! I'm Caroline Jenkins. Your father and I are cousins... Let's see, his mother - that's your Grandma Emily - and my mother, God rest her soul, were sisters. That made her your... great aunt, I guess. I'm so sorry you won't get to meet her, but of course you'll meet my husband and my children - we'll all be your cousins - and my brother and his son - a few more cousins for you. I'll bet you never knew you had such a big family!" Alice considered this. She was hardly an orphan. She had nine cousins on her mother's side. True, her father was an only child, but his father had had two older sisters, and she was fairly certain that neither had died childless. Caroline continued, "Mom and Aunt Emily have a younger brother too. My Uncle Jim still lives in Virginia, where they all grew up. That's how your parents found us. We haven't heard from Aunt Emily in years, and then out of the blue I get a call from Uncle Jim-"
"My parent's called you?" The spontaneous mushrooming of her family tree was making Alice's head spin.
"No, dear. Didn't I tell you? Your grandmother spoke to my uncle, the only one that still lives in Virginia. You see, my mother moved us all to Massachusetts when we were little... Anyway, Uncle Jim was trying to reach my older brother, but Mark's on vacation, so he called me," Caroline stopped to give Alice her most concerned expression. "And when I heard what you've been going through, well what else could I do, but offer you a place here with me?"
"A place? With you?"
"Yes, dear. Didn't your parents tell you? Oh my! Have I called to early? Maybe I should talk to your parents..."
"Alice!" her father called from the other room. "Who are you talking to?"
"Dad? There's someone in the fire..."
"Is he coming?" asked Caroline. Before Alice could answer her father was sitting beside her on the couch.
"Is that you, Carrie?" he asked, smiling. "So you've finally learned to use a fireplace!"
Caroline blushed. At least, the fire that made her cheeks seemed to glow a bit brighter for a moment. "I wish I could take the credit, Tom, but as it is... I've had a little help."
"Oh? Met some dashing young wizard and ditched Jenkins, have you? He was such an awful bore, good for you-"
Caroline laughed. "Martin and I are quite happy, I'll have you know. Quite happy. And quite nearby."