Dot (Araminta Hall)

‘Be my guest. You can’t do any worse than me.’
    The house was creepy when you had to walk up the wide wooden staircase on your own, looked down on by generations of Clarice’s bloodline who had no interest in you and your petty problems. Sandra knocked on the door of Alice’s room, but there was no reply so she turned the handle and let herself in. Alice was lying in bed, just as Clarice had said, but still it seemed shocking to Sandra. Her body made a neat lump under the white sheet and her eyes were open but fixed on the ceiling. Her skin was more than white, it was the absence of colour, as if it had forgotten to be alive. Sandra walked over to the bed, but Alice only seemed to notice her when she sat down next to it. Her friend’s eyes were raw, but still more tears fell when she focused.
    Sandra put her hand on Alice’s cheek. ‘Oh sweetheart. What’s he gone and done?’
    Alice’s face folded in on itself. ‘He’s left me, Sandra. He’s gone.’
    ‘Well, he’s a prize bloody fool then.’
    ‘He’s left with the barmaid from the Hare. Her name’s Silver Sharpe. Isn’t that perfect? I can just picture her, I bet she’s amazing. I bet she’s like a film star. I can almost understand why he went.’
    Sandra swallowed down her knowledge of Silver. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’re like a film star. He wants his head read, the wanker.’
    ‘God, San, it was so awful. We thought he was dead or something. We called all the hospitals.’
    ‘You mean he didn’t tell you or leave you a note or anything?’ Alice shook her head and tears sprayed off her face. ‘He’s been in touch since though?’
    ‘No. He never came back after the party, he’s not called or anything.’
    ‘Oh my God. What a bastard.’
    ‘I think I’m going to die, San. The doctor keeps asking me where it hurts and I want to scream: Everywhere, you moron, it feels like demons are ripping off my skin but I know you can’t do anything about it.’
    Sandra felt her body filling with a terrible rage. Worse than when she’d caught Gerry with Tracey Finch when they were engaged. Or maybe not worse, maybe the feeling was connected, maybe her anger was with all of them. All of those bastard, wanker men who thought it was their right to do as they pleased, to take women as if they were nothing more than a commodity, as if they didn’t have hearts which were so easy to break. ‘Stop it,’ she said, her voice harder than she’d intended. ‘You are not going to let him beat you.’
    Alice was still snivelling. ‘I don’t think I can go on without him. What will I do? Stay stuck in this house with my mother?’
    ‘There are worse places, Alice. Some women are left with nothing. They have to go and live in some crappy B and B with their kids. You’re not the first woman who’s been shat on from a great height.’
    ‘But he was my last chance, San. You don’t understand.’
    ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, don’t talk soft. You were a baby when you met him. You’re gorgeous and men will be queuing round the block for you.’
    ‘I don’t want anyone else.’
    Sandra had to resist an urge to take her friend by the shoulders and shake her. ‘Alice, please. What about Dot?’
    At least this seemed to register. ‘Is she OK? Clarice says she’s fine.’
    ‘She is. But she needs you. You have to get up.’
    Alice turned on to her side at this and sobbed, although Sandra knew she’d heard and thought she could maybe see a slight reinflation in her friend’s body. ‘Alice, you can’t let him win like that. God, I’d like to cut his dick off.’
    At least Alice stopped crying at that, but her eyes looked blank. ‘I feel so alone. I don’t know if I can do all of this without knowing he’s coming home every night.’
    ‘You’re not alone, Alice. You’ve got me and your mum and Dot.’ Sandra felt the community of women so strongly, but she wasn’t sure that Alice did. Maybe it was because she was still young, or maybe she didn’t want to.
    ‘D’you know what Clarice gave me a few nights ago?’ Alice said by way of reply. Sandra shook her head. Alice reached over to the drawer in her bedside table and took out a small piece of paper, which she handed to Sandra. On it were written the words: I’m sorry, Clarry. I thought I was prepared for Jack’s death, the doctors told us it would happen. But since it has the world has spun too fast and I have to get off. Mamma .
    ‘What is this?’
    ‘My grandmother’s