Chapter Text
“Alice… We’re best friends, right?”
A spring breeze rolled over the river in front of them, and a gaggle of geese took flight. Alice smiled as big she could, pleased by the perfect afternoon. Bunny could be so insecure, of course they were best friends!
“No…no matter what?” Bunny was averting eye contact and fidgeting with her pocket watch. Open, shut, open, shut. Twist the time knob and twist it back. Bunny only ever did that when she was super nervous or whenever something was seriously wrong. Alice was reminded of the time she had gotten into a fight with one of the neighbourhood boys. They had sat outside near the river just like this trying to decide how to cover up the bruise on her face. She could not keep her hands still on the watch.
Alice sat up straight, looking at Bunny now with concern.
“Is something wrong?” Alice asked, searching Bunny’s face. She refused to meet her eyes.
“Just… it’s nothing.” She snapped the watch close and moved to stand up, but Alice reached for her hands and gently, but firmly, pulled her back down.
“Bunny. I love you more than anything. You are my best friend, no matter what. You could be a two headed cat or a jabberwocky for all I care, we are best friends. Forever and ever.”
Silence sat on the riverbank. Alice hoped her words were being absorbed. They were as true as true could be, Bunny had to know that. After a gentle moment, Alice dived deeper.
“So please, tell me what’s up.” Alice reached for Bunny’s hand, but she pulled it away, still not turning to her. Alice could not see her face, but she could see her breath quickening.
“Alice, I… I, I…” she was stuttering. Bunny never stuttered. She was usually so sure of herself, knowing where to go and when to be there. Alice’s heart clenched. She wanted to help her so much.
With a deep breath, Bunny brought her knees to her chest.
“I… you know I’m different. Like, I don’t know… I don’t know…”
Alice breathed in. “We are both outcasts,” Alice conceded.
Bunny nodded hesitantly. “Yeah, outcasts…. But I think, something wrong different… I, oh gosh I just need to get it out, I’m wasting too much time. If not now, I will back down.”
Alice still couldn’t see her face, but Bunny’s fists clenched tight. She did not dare breathe in case she disrupted Bunny’s bravery. And when Alice thought she would explode in the silence, Bunny finally blurted it out.
“I want to be a boy.”
Alice still didn’t breathe. She did not understand…
Spurred on by her nerves and the point of no return, Bunny ploughed on.
“No, not want. I… I think I am. I know, I’m a girl, but I really, really want to be a boy. Am. I don’t know, I don’t know. But I just…” she sighed, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. It was now that Alice noticed her friend was crying. Bunny stuck her face in her hands and cried.
Alice could admit, she did not understand. She had never heard of such a thing. As sure as her two eyes could see, she could see Bunny was a girl. Her brown hair was long, and her face was delicate, and, well she could only assume she had the same girl parts Alice herself did.
It was impossible that the person before her was a boy.
But… Alice believes six impossible things before breakfast. And if even those could become possible, then this was something she could believe in too.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to, I just, I can’t help it and I needed someone to know I can never tell anyone, you don’t have to be friends with me…”
Alice could not take it anymore. She pulled Bunny close, putting a stop to the spiral. Bunny gasped in shock, finally turning their face to Alice. Alice clung close and tight and after a second, Bunny melted into it.
“We are best friends, don’t ever say we are not. I would never forgive you.”
Bunny cried into Alice’s shoulder and Alice tried to pat their pack in an attempt to soothe.
“I do not understand very well, but I understand you know yourself. You always are so sure.” Alice giggled lightly.
Bunny sniffled.
“Yeah, I suppose I do. I ‘spose I don’t know much either, other than I’m sure.”
They let go of the hug, separating to stare at the river in silence.
“So… are you still Bunny?” Alice asked, not sure how to proceed.
He paused for a moment, and once again seemed to gather courage before hesitantly shaking his head.
“If possible, and just when it’s us… could you call me Alfred?”
Alice nodded.
“Alfred the White Rabbit. Seems fitting, no?”
Alfred’s eyes filled with more tears and he could not help but break down again.
“Oh Alice, you have no idea…”
…………
“Ugh! My parents are unencourageable!” Alfred was in a mood. Alice swiftly placed one of the stolen chocolate biscuits from her parents cupboard into his hand to distract from the meltdown.
“As parents tend to be. But in this case?”
Alfred absentmindedly stuffed some biscuit into his mouth and sat down in a humph.
“Ma told me it’s time for a haircut. But every photo she showed me was ugly! All long curls and highlights. I just want a respectable, low maintenance short hairstyle. But…”
Alfred darted his eyes away. Alice knew that inside he was a boy, but also knew Alfred wanted to look more like a boy on the outside too. He had been wearing more pants and blouses, but they undoubtedly were the feminine fashion. And his hair was still long. Evidently, it bothered him.
“Well, that won’t do,” Alice decided. “We must figure out how to get you that short hair.”
Alfred clawed at his face. “No, its impossible! I can’t ask for it, my Ma and Pa will shoot it down! I just… grrrr” He flopped onto his back and Alice rolled her eyes.
“Alfred, you know once I put my mind to something, I will certainly find a way,” Alice assured. “We just need to brainstorm. Remember, we convinced your parents you got a black eye from running into a pole.” She laughed fondly at the memory. Alfred was a terrible liar and had almost given away the whole charade, but thanks to Alice’s quick wit, they had succeeded in the deceit.
Alfred nodded, sagely. “You are right, Alice. You are much too stubborn for your own good. But when that stubbornness is on my side, I shan’t complain.”
And for the afternoon, they sat and discussed a multitude of schemes for convincing Alfred’s parents into a shorter hair style, but that quickly proved to be a dead end. Then they evaluated the consequences of ignoring his parents decision and possible repercussions, but his parents were very strict and unforgiving (the last time he had disobeyed, Alice had not spoken to him for a week!). This was inconceivable.
No, the stroke of genius hit Alice with a malicious twinkle.
“You know… I could cut your hair,” she wiggled her eyebrows. Alfred opened his eyes with fear.
“Not that I do not trust your cosmetology abilities, but how does this evade my parents wrath?”
Alice grinned wickedly. “Don’t you see? I will cut your hair on purpose, but make it look like an accident. Your parents love me, so if I go in crying about how I’m ‘so, so sorry’, bam, short hair and-
“-and they cannot blame me, and we can still talk!” Alfred finished off, excited now.
“Yes!” Alice cheered and they fell into a comfortable laughter.
……….
“Actually, Alice, I think I might like to back out,” Alfred squirmed.
Alice held him in place, scissors primed in hand. “Oh shush. Now show me that photo again.”
Alfred pulled the photo from under the blanket that acted as a hair salon cape. Alice got a good look at it and tried to visualise the outcome in her head. She was beginning to get nervous now. Obviously, she had never done anything like this before. She was not sure she could replicate the look of the photo…
Chuckling nervously, Alice asked “And you don’t mind if it looks nothing like that?”
Alfred stared at the water, with steel in his eyes. With a sigh. “No, I don’t care. Just make it short.” And then turned back to her with fear. “But can you try and make it look alright?”
“Alright.” Alice took a deep breath and took a shank of the long hair between her fingers. “Ready?” she asked herself more than Alfred. Ok, I am so dead. No matter the consequences, though, this was for Alfred. She would do anything for her best friend. “One, two annnnd…”
Snip.
Alice let the detached hair sit limp in her hand and slowly, put it front of Alfred’s face. He reached out and took the hair numbly.
“Oh my gosh, that’s so much hair,” he whispered. Alice nodded in agreement. She was scared he would turn around and say it was all a mistake and Alice did too much. Instead, he turned around with a big, sly grin. “Do it again.”
So Alice took her shears back to the hair, cutting off more hanks here and there. It fell to the ground around Alfred in a nest of brown. Some hanks found there way into the river and were swept away with the current.
Once it was all a somewhat manageable length, Alice tried her best to match the style, but truly it was terrible. She just kept making small cuts hoping something would work, but finally decided to stop when she realised she was making it too short.
“Ok… you are really going to have to brace yourself…” Alice warned. Alfred emerged from the long-hair nest and went over to the river. He turned this way and that. Alice waited with baited breath.
Alfred turned around, stone faced. Alice’s heart dropped to her feet.
“I know it’s bad…” but Alice was cut off by a hug.
“It’s great.”
Alice melted into the hug, gratefully, holding her friend tight. Her heart fluttered at the warmness and she did not want it to end. All too soon, he was pushing away from her, and she just wanted to pull him back in.
“Well, no, it’s actually quite bad. But it’s short. It’s me.” They both melted into laughter after the surprisingly tender moment.
“That was just the easy part,” Alice offered, knowing what was to come.
Alfred sobered up. “Yeah, this is going to be… well, shall we go find out?”
Alice nodded, leading the way home. On the route back, they walked past some neighbours, who all stared hard at Alfred. They knew they would be going about spreading the news and speculating all afternoon. Knowing how fast gossip travelled in their neighbourhood, Alice would not be surprised if Mr and Mrs Jones found out before they even saw their son.
They reached the doorstep of Alfred’s family home. For a moment, they stood there, frozen in fear. Alice was only now realising just how much trouble she would be in. Her breath began to pick up. Oh no. Alfred reached for her hand, and suddenly she was grounded back in reality. That was why she did this, for her best friend. She nodded, and pushed him out of the way.
“Ok, wait for your cue,” Alice instructed, and reached out to knock the door.
Mrs Jones opened the door.
“Alice! How are you, dearie? Where’s Bunny? I thought she was out with you today…” Mrs Jones stopped when she saw tears running down Alice’s face. “Oh no, sweet heart, what’s wrong?”
“It’s… I made a mistake, Mrs Jones…” she blubbered pathetically, looking down at her feet in shame.
“Oh come now, nothing that cannot be fixed I’m sure. Tell me what has happened?” Poor Mrs Jones. She was a kind hearted woman, and here Alice was lying boldly to her face. Well, they came this far.
“Well… I … just, don’t be mad at Bunny” – she cringed at how wrong the name felt on her tongue – “I… Bunny?”
Alfred stepped onto the step and into his mother’s view.
Mrs Jones stared, her eyes widening in terror. And then she shrieked and pulled Alfred and Alice inside roughly, slamming the door.
“Honey, Jeanette, what’s wrong?” Mr Jones was rushing down the stairs but stopped hallway down when he saw the ‘mess’. Mr Jones was much harsher than his wife. His face went ruddy and red with rage.
“You two! What have you done?!”
Mrs Jones was weeping, touching the hair wistfully on Alfred’s head. Alice and Alfred kept their gaze low and remorseful.
“I’m so, so, so, sorry Mrs and Mr Jones!” Alice continued on. “It’s my fault! I… I told Bunny I wanted to be a hairdresser, and and I convinced her to let me cut her hair and and oh, it was terrible, a ball was kicked and I… well I cut off a LOT more than I intended… and instead of leaving a giant bald patch, I thought I could even it out and oh I just kept making it worse.”
Mrs Jones was barely paying attention, still crying over her child. Alfred looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but Alice tried to signal him to look sad.
“Alice, how could you do this?” Mr Jones turned his steely stare on her and Alice gulped. Here it came, what would he do? Forbid them from speaking for a week? A month?
No, what came next, Alice could never have predicted.
Mr Jones struck her hard across the face. Not expecting it, and due to the force, she fell to the ground. She reached her hand up to feel the sting, and oh it hurt. No one other than her parents had ever laid a hand on her.
It was a shock, to be sure, but it was better than other punishments that could be delt out. Especially to Alfred. So Alice considered this a win. But he did not seem to hold the same opinion. Alfred looked up to his father in anger.
“How dare you hit her!” he shouted. Alice wanted to pull on his sleeve and get him to drop it. You fool, do not anger him! Alfred had never spoken back to his father and Alice did not want to see the consequences of deciding to test the waters now.
“Stop, that was deserved. It is all my fault,” Alice tried to calm him down, clambouring to her feet. She bowed to Mr Jones. “I am so sorry Mr Jones, I truly am.”
But Mr Jones’ full attention was on his son. His stare was hardened and dangerous and Alice wanted to start this whole thing over again.
Finally, after a terse silence, he spoke in a deep, dangerous voice. “Do. Not. Speak back to me like that again. Do you understand?”
Just nod and let’s wrap this up!
But of course, Alfred had picked today to be brave. Or stupid.
“Father, it is not her fault. I agreed to it. And it is just hair, it will grow back,” he tried again.
Mr Jones chuckled darkly. “Just hair? This ruffian has ruined your beautiful, long hair. She’s turned you into a disgusting street boy! What will the neighbours say? Oh, I always said this would happen, didn’t I honey?” He turned around to pace with a hand pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I said ‘that Spencer girl is a bad influence on our daughter. She’ll bring nothing but trouble’ but nooooo you said let Bunny make her own decisions. Look where that got us!”
He huffed, looking at the pair of them. Alice was still trying to look remorseful and trying to calm the situation. Alfred looked intense and was breathing heavy, decidedly not looking away from his father.
“Get out of my house. Get out right now,” he instructed Alice, which she quickly followed. “And you… I can’t look at you right now. Go to your room. There will be no supper tonight.”
Alice ran home and threw herself on her bed. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest. She should be terrified, sick with worry, hurt from the slap, and she was all that. But a crazed laugh bubbled out of her. She had just cut her best friends hair and faced the wrath of Mr Jones. She laughed harder.
And through it all, she could not help but think Alfred looked… rather charming with that new hair cut. It suited his sharp facial features and fell in a way one might almost describe as ‘dreamy’. And the way he had stood up for her…
She laughed and laughed and laughed at the absurdity of the whole situation.
Mad, Alice, you are completely mad!
……………
Alfred’s birthday was fast approaching and Alice knew not what to get him. Of course, her parents had taken to purchasing an age appropriate, on trend gift on Alice’s behalf. They were well-to-do in the neighbourhood and needed an air of excellence at the party, and they knew Alice’s track record of gift-giving to her best friend (best not to discuss the ‘reptile epidemic’ of 1938).
No, the sophisticated and oh-so well-to-do make-up kit was something neither Alice nor Alfred would ever want. Sometimes parents could not pick a half way decent gift. She had absolute surety all the other stuffy adults would find it a befitting present.
Each year, however, behind the backs of their parents, Alice and Alfred would exchange much better gifts on their birthdays. Alice remembered fondly how Alfred’s gift for her birthday last year was to throw rotten fruits and eggs on Tabatha’s bedroom window. Tabatha had previously seen fit to make relentless fun of Alice during the school day, and it had brought great amusement to the both of them. She would need to think of something equally spectacular for Alfred.
Although Alice was a master at getting into unruly schemes, she was unfortunately, not a gifted gifter. (See: the ‘reptile epidemic’ of 1938). Normally, she would think and think of a suitably creative gift specifically tailored to her friend, but this year, she had a rather simplistic idea. She could not stop kicking herself for her failure to concoct something sublime, but she simply hoped it would do…
Another thing you should know about Alice; not only did she hate to sit still, but she especially hated anything to do with sewing or mending. Many a times her mother had forced her to sit and practice her embroidery skills and darn the socks and mend her father’s shirts and a many a times Alice had thrown the mended shirts in the dirt in anger or embroidered curse words in stead of the prescribed bible verse.
Alice peered through the Blake families back yard fence. On Saturday’s, Ms. Blake would do the laundry early morning and leave it to hang whilst the whole family went to the two youngest boy’s cricket game. And, right enough, there hung blouses, dresses, linen and pants.
Looking around the back-alley way, Alice made sure she was not being watched before pushing open the gate and darting in, hiding amongst the sheets and quilts.
Once she had successfully nicked her target, she darted out just as quick, trying to act natural as she walked down the alley. Trying to seem casual and not as if she had clumps of fabric stuffed down her blouse. She attracted little attention, save for an older boy from school who would not stop looking at her blouse. Flushing red, Alice hoped he could not notice anything amiss…
“Nice rack, lass!” he called. Alice turned around startled. The boy, about 17 if she remembered correctly, had stopped in his tracks. Alice turned around and saw he was looking at her blouse.
Oh, you’ve gone and done it now, Alice. Now when the Blake’s ask, he will tell them Alice was behind the alley with something stuffed down her shirt… So much trouble!
Without another thought, Alice turned and ran without thought, as fast as she could. If she didn’t turn back, she would be fine. She had to be. She did not know the boys name, so maybe he did not know hers? Or he did not get a good look at her face?
She ran all the way home, raced to her room and stuffed the shirt and pants into the bottom of her lingerie drawer.
The Blake’s returned home and found the missing clothing. Apparently, they had looked all over, thinking the wind had run off with it. But when that turned up empty, they thought to blame a street urchin. When Alice heard the news on the school grape-vine, she could only sigh in relief. Of course they would not blame her. What use would she have for boys’ clothes?
……………..
Alfred looked so … unusual. His choppy, short hair was slowly growing back and fell in awkward shanks. His mother had made an attempt to make it presentable, clipping it back with two pink ribbons. The colour ill suited Alfred and made the hair look decidedly worse.
But worse was the matching dress. It was over whelmed with lace and layers and frills. It was not suited for running in the fields or crossing a stream, as the pair were prone to get up to. Alice shuddered. If this was the fashion, no doubt her parents would have one equally garish lined up for her own birthday. She shook that thought away for a later day. Because right now, Alfred looked quite uncomfortable and distressed.
He was placed next to the table and as guests rolled in with their gifts, he was forced to curtsy and greet them with a strained smile and light laugh. Alice would tease him for it later, but she still felt bad for her friend. As soon as she could, she would drag him away from these duties and they could enjoy the party at least a little bit.
Finally, Alice was at the front of the line and Alfred’s smile actually turned real.\
“Alice! You made it.” He brought her into a hug and she hugged back. “About time. You left me here to suffer this!” he whispered into her ear, and she laughed.
“Happy birthday,” she said, curtseying in a mock fashion, exaggerating his own curtsey’s just now. He rolled his eyes, but curtseyed back.
“Thank you Mr and Mrs Spencer for coming,” he bowed his head.
“You look beautiful, Bunny. Happy birthday!” Alice’s mother cooed, hugging him. Alice winced.
Alfred smiled just as strained. “Thank you Mrs Spencer. Please, enjoy the party.”
Alice placed the gift on the table, mouthing sorry to Alfred. Her parents went off to mingle and Alice… was left alone.
“Ah, Miss Alice. Curious to see you pop by?” a girl approached from behind, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Or I should say, not curious at all.”
“Hello Tabatha. How do you do?” Alice did not like Tabatha very much. She was a part of the more popular girls at their school, though Alice was loathe to use such a word. Tabatha thought Alice strange, which just meant she was observant. It did not mean Alice could not feel bad about how Tabatha led her friends to make fun of her. Even the mad had feelings.
Also didn’t mean that Alice had not enjoyed immensely when Alfred had decorated her bike and window with rotten projectiles.
“Very well,” Tabatha replied in mock, curtsying falsely. “Saw what you did to poor Bunny’s hair. Seems you have a bright future in cosmetology.” She chuckled snidely.
Alice flushed red. Alfred was closer to Tabatha and the other girls than Alice was. He was always so amicable and easy to make friends with and they all seemed to like him well. They had not forgiven Alice for chopping his hair, thinking it was all her fault. And she let them think that. But she was a proud girl.
“I’ll have you know I think it looks rather swell,” she harumphed, crossing her arms.
Tabatha only smiled slyly. She moved around, like a skivvy cat. It was mesmerizing to watch, but unsettling.
“I know. I would almost agree. Perhaps you could give your own a cut? You desperately need it.”
Alice burned brighter.
“Well, Tabatha. I would offer you a cut for free, as an act of charity, but I fear I do not possess the skills to make that work.”
Tabatha giggled.
“Nice one, Spencer.”
“You know, rumour has it you’ve been up to some mischief,” Tabatha spoke, languidly.
“I haven’t the foggiest what you mean,” Alice retorted. Tabatha was always trying to twist words.
“No? So you would not have known anything about a caper at the Blake’s?”
Alice flushed red and eyes went wide. No, she couldn’t…
Tabatha smiled, innocently.
“My only question to you then, is what could you possibly be doing with boys clothes?”
She flushed brighter and Tabatha’s grin widened. Nice going, Alice, now she is confirmed of her answer. But how? Oh, she must have seen her somehow. Tabatha was always spying from somewhere.
“Stealing them for a special someone?” she wiggled her eyebrows. “Got yourself a boy?” Of course, Alice only grew redder. Curse my tell-tale face! But why was she blushing? It’s not as if Tabatha’s jabs held any truth. Tabatha seemed to take the opposite view.
“It’s true! Oooh, Alice Spencer got herself a boy! Tell me, is he cute? Does he make your heart flutter?” She gasped loud in mock scandal. “Have you kissed.”
“Tabatha, I will not humour any more of this. I have no idea who stole those clothes and I certainly have no boyfriend!”
It was at that moment Tabatha’s younger sister ran up to them, ignoring Alice completely and tugging on Tabatha’s dress. Alice could not care less, and was only relieved to have Tabatha’s attention to be away from her.
“Come on, Tabatha. Come play Twister with me!” she demanded, smiling big.
Tabatha rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
“Alright, calm down Ness. Well, I’ll be seeing you round Spencer.”
And Alice was left alone again.
The party was rather a drag. The adults were adulting in their corner, and the guests were guesting in the other. Alice tried to be amicable, but it was always a little difficult for her to connect with her peers. She stared on at Alfred with envy. He was making such good conversation with everyone, and everyone who spoke to him was laughing and smiling.
Alice rubbed her arm in shame, wishing she could make friends as easily as her best friend. In defeat, she migrated to the snack table and eavesdropped on conversations.
“Did you see Mr Shoemichael? Welll…”
“No, absolutely tragic hair cut. She should sue the salon…”
“They say that those German ethnics are getting ready…”
Predictably boring conversation. Alice groaned, picking at some crackers.
From the fray, Alfred broke through to the kitchen.
“Ugh, Alice! I’ve been trying so hard to get over here. You would not believe how difficult it is to navigate through all those people…” Alfred chuckled. “Ooh, what’s good?”
Alice tapped her fingers on the table. She was glad to see Alfred, of course, but some little voice in her mind was jealous. Jealous of him? Or everyone else? Probably a bit of both.
“Punch is good. Crackers are bland.”
He nodded, dipping his hand into the crackers regardless and eating a handful eagerely.
“Bunny, what are you doing?”
A shiver travelled down Alice’s spine. She turned around, the form of Mr Jones striking anxiety into her heart.
“I am eating some crackers, father,” he responded curtly.
“No, you are stuffing them in your face. Show some propriety. And don’t be rude, go host your guests. You ought be grateful they came to celebrate your birthday.”
He groaned. “I have been all afternoon. I am just getting a snack.”
Mr Joans looked sceptical. He side eyed Alice, and she shrunk under his gaze, but he did not as much as acknowledged her existence.
“Go and start the pass the parcel.” Mr Jones picked up some crackers and began eating them as he walked away.
Alfred waited until Mr Jones was out of earshot before making an insulting face, to which Alice giggled.
“Well, back to it I suppose. You know, it’s my birthday. You think it would be what I enjoy.” He crossed his arms and shook his head.
Alice nodded. “I don’t think your father very much likes me.”
Alfred blushed and looked down in shame. “No, I suppose not. I think he is still a little sore… but he will come back around, I am sure!”
Alice did not believe this, just another impossible thing to believe.
“Would you like to come play pass the parcel?”
Truth be told, Alice did not, but she followed along anyway, not wanting to be alone for the rest of the party.
And the rest of the party, was enjoyable enough. Alice mostly talked to Tabatha, who surprisingly made good conversation. They sat together and spied on the adults, making jokes and theorising what they were discussing. They talked some school gossip, some interesting books Tabatha had read, and shenanigans they both had gotten up to recently.
Eventually, the party was beginning to die down as the merrygoers began to go home. Alfred was once again taken from the festivities to wish everyone farewell. Tabatha had gone about half an hour ago, and now Alice’s parents were signalling it was time for the formalities of leaving.
Alice went up to Alfred, who immediately lit up. She went into a proper hug for appearances, but also her own nefarious reasons.
“Meet me by the creek after midnight?” Alice whispered. “For a last minute birthday celebration? Just us two?”
Alfred smiled. “After midnight, it will no longer be my birthday.”
“I suppose we will just have to host an Unbirthday party then.”
Alfred left the hug and grinned.
“Sounds wonderful.”
…………………….
Alice sat by the river in the still night air. A crescent moon reflected on the waters surface as it rushed at a leisurely pace. It was 5 to 12, but she knew Alfred was entirely punctual and would arrive at 12 on the dot, not a minute sooner nor later.
Alice did not mind sitting alone. She had snuck out maybe 10 minutes ago and was enjoying the peace of her own company.
That was, until her own company and silence brought along thoughts that were entirely not hers. Thoughts of boys, the Blake sons, the older student who saw her in the alley, and Alf…
Oh, curse you Tabatha! She thought, trying to sweep away the uninvited thoughts. Ruining a perfectly pleasant evening! Her words had wriggled into her mind somehow, without her permission.
Then her mind turned to kissing…
“Alice!”
Thank all that is crazy and wondrous, it was Alfred. He came and the thoughts blew away in the wind.
With a big grin, he plonked down on the bank next to her.
Now stripped of his birthday dress, he was in some non-descriptive bed clothes. He looked much more comfortable.
“You have no idea how glad I am to be out here. That party was taxing to say the least.”
Alice giggled. Giggled? No, she chuckled. Yes, chuckled, she did not giggle. Not now, not ever.
“Well, happy Unbirthday to you then. Alone by the river more to your liking? Prefer it over a house full of people who all love and adore you.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
“I’m not alone. I’m with you. That’s all that matters.” He said meaningfully. And, oh, her face flushed red without her permission once more. She was quite grateful for the darkness in that moment.
She cleared her throat and moved to change the topic.
“Yes, well, here is your Unbithday Present, for such an occasion!” She handed him a parcel wrapped in butchers paper. With a glint in his eye, he took it eagerly.
“It’s not another snake, is it?” he asked, half joking, half serious.
She just laughed in response and he joined.
“Tell you the truth, I didn’t quite think that make-up palette had your hand involved. Glad you actually got me a present. Be a terrible friend if you didn’t.”
Alice rolled her eyes. Of course he knew she would get him a present of some sorts, he was just trying to rile her up.
“Of course I did.” As he began to peel at the tape, she suffenly felt bashful and unsure of her gift. That was new. “I wasn’t too creative this year. I couldn’t think of anything exciting as you often do…”
He pulled back the paper and unfurled the parcel within. He reached for the shirt and unfolded it to stare at it. Then the pants.
“Where did you get these?” he asked in disbelief. Alice could not gauge his reaction to the gift and could only hope he liked it.
“Best not to ask questions.”
“I can’t believe…”
Alice could not take it any longer. “Well, go on, try them on!”
He went over a few yards to change behind a tree and Alice had to turn her eyes and mind away.
Then he stepped out. The shirt was large and gave him a boxy figure. The pants were the right length, but again large in the hips. The patches she had sewn on to disguise the pants looked raggy and poorly attached, but it did well to hide their nature as nicer clothes.
He looks rather dashing. Alice had to agree with her intrusive internal monologue, although she would never let Alfred know that. Can’t have him getting too big for his own head.
Instead, she nodded her approval. “Yes, yes, quite suitable I suppose. Though you look like a street urchin,” she teased.
Alfred grinned, admiring his fit. “Street urchin, you say? And would the extremely proper Alice hang with a street urchin? Oh, what would the well-to-do families say?”
Now she was giggling. “Not that I would I ever care what those boring people have to say, but I imagine it would be along the lines of “Can’t believe she found a boy willing to put up with her. That one’s too mouthy”” She put on an air of Mrs Blake.
Alfred howled with laughter.
“Perfect Mrs Blake impression, might I add.”
They settled into some silence. Alice was able to admire the glow of the moon on the water, her thoughts for the time being silenced by his presence.
“Thank you, Alice.” Alfred broke the silence. If Alice knew any better, she would hear the tears in his voice. Had she turned her head, she would have seen his eyes glazing over. But she actively chose to ignore it. One of those impossible things she refused to believe: that Alfred would cry over one of her birthday presents.
“Always, Alfred.”