Dot (Araminta Hall)

they’d even left Cartertown.
    ‘How’re you feeling now?’ Gerry asked as they bumped along a deserted road, so dark that his headlights carved two neat lines out in front of them and nothing seemed real.
    Alice had become used to Sandra’s openness and only blushed slightly at the question. ‘Oh, you know, good days and bad days.’
    ‘San says you haven’t heard from him at all.’
    ‘No, still nothing.’ Alice turned her head and saw herself reflected back by the window, Gerry glancing at her from over her shoulder.
    ‘Well, he’s a bloody fool.’
    ‘Apparently he left with a barmaid called Silver.’ Alice didn’t know why she was saying this, but the car was like a bubble of life which wouldn’t exist when she left it.
    ‘I know. God knows why.’
    ‘You met her?’ The link was tenuous but intoxicating.
    ‘Yeah, I drink at the Hare and Hounds sometimes.’
    ‘Did you see them together?’
    Gerry shifted. ‘Well, not really. I saw him talking to her in there a few times.’
    ‘Oh, right.’
    ‘But she’s nothing compared to you. Honestly, he needs his head reading.’
    Alice smiled at this; she was learning to take what she could out of small kindnesses, even when it felt like termites were burrowing into her skin. ‘Thanks.’
    Gerry looked at her and so she looked back and smiled at him, wishing he would keep his eyes on the road. ‘No, really, Alice. You’re amazing.’ The car was slowing and Alice looked forward, trying to see what might be stopping them, but there was nothing, just a hedgerow that flashed past as the car crunched to a stop.
    ‘Is everything OK?’ she asked, flicking her eyes back at the sleeping girls.
    Gerry leant over and put his hand on her knee, the movement so unexpected that she flinched from his touch. He laughed. ‘Come on, Alice. I know you must be lonely. I can read those eyes of yours.’
    Alice pulled her skirt down, smoothing it over her legs. ‘I’m sorry, what?’ Sting’s voice pulsated through the steamy car: Don’t stand, don’t stand so, don’t stand so close to me . Gerry leant forward, his breath hot and smoky on her neck. Alice pushed him hard on the shoulder and his head jerked back so that it banged on the side of the door.
    ‘What the fuck?’ He put his fingers to his head and when he brought them down they were bloody.
    ‘God, I’m sorry, it’s just, I mean, what were you doing?’
    ‘I was trying to kiss you.’ Gerry found a tissue in his pocket and dabbed at his head.
    ‘Kiss me?’
    ‘Oh come on, don’t play dumb. All those little smiles and Lady Di eyes, I know what you want.’
    ‘What I want is to go home.’
    ‘“What I want is to go home.”’ Gerry mimicked her voice and Alice realised she sounded prim and proper. He started the engine. ‘You’re nothing but a prick tease.’
    Her mouth floundered like a fish until she found the right words. ‘But Sandra’s my best friend. Your daughter’s asleep in the back of the car.’
    He laughed at this, turning the music up and lighting a cigarette without opening the window. ‘Are you for real? Are you really that naive or is it just part of the act?’
    Alice dug her nails into her palms to stop the tears. ‘What act?’
    ‘Jesus. I’m starting to see what Tony saw in Silver.’
    They drove the rest of the way in silence. If Alice had been alone she would have asked to get out, not caring that they were in the middle of nowhere on a dark night. And she felt sure that Gerry would have obliged. But of course she wasn’t on her own any more and Dot was more important than anything that happened to her. When they arrived she lifted Dot out of the car and walked up the path to her home without speaking or looking back – not that it mattered as the car had turned the corner before she’d even opened the front door.
    Once inside she carried Dot to her bedroom, managing to take the little girl out of most of her clothes and tuck her into bed without waking her. She kissed her podgy cheeks and smoothed her hair off her face, wishing that she could climb into bed next to her daughter and cuddle up to her tiny body. But it was only half past seven and Alice knew she had to put on a better show than that, so she went downstairs and made herself a cup of tea, which she took into the sitting room where Clarice was reading in front of the fire.
    ‘I’ve made some soup if you’re hungry,’ she said, not looking up.
    ‘No, I’m fine with tea, thanks. I’m