The Strange Journey of Alice Pendelbury Read online

  Alice turned her back to the men and faced Carol. “How am I a tease?”

  “Well, for one, by pretending not to notice that I fancy him.”

  Carol threw the remains of her chips into the water, where two seagulls greedily wolfed them down.

  Sam called over to them. “Are you just going to stand there and watch the tide come in, or are you coming with us? We’re going to take a look at the games. I saw a booth where you can win a cigar if you’re strong enough.” He rolled up his sleeves in anticipation.

  The game cost a farthing a turn. The idea was to use a sledgehammer to hit a mark on the floor that sent a little lead weight flying up a tube. If the weight struck the bell hanging seven feet above the ground, you won a cigar. A cheap cigar, it was true, but Sam thought smoking cigars the height of dignified virility. He tried eight times, two pennies’ worth, and twice what he would have spent for a cigar of the same quality at the tobacconist’s down the pier.

  “I’ll show you how it’s done if you’ll pay,” said Eddy.

  Sam handed him a coin and stood back. Eddy swung the sledgehammer with ease, the weight hit the bell, and the man running the game gave him his prize.

  “This one’s for me,” said Eddy. “Give me another farthing and I’ll win one for you.”

  A minute later they were lighting Eddy’s prizes. Eddy was in seventh heaven, and Sam was calculating how much money he had lost. He could have bought a pack of cigarettes. Twenty Embassies for one bad cigar—it made one think.

  The men exchanged knowing glances when they came to the bumper cars. Almost immediately, they were each in their own car, flooring the accelerators and smashing into one another as hard as possible. The women watched from the sidelines in amused incomprehension. At the end of the round, they dragged Carol and Alice to a shooting parlor. Anton’s aim was the best, and he hit the bull’s-eye until he won a little porcelain teapot for Alice.

  While this was going on, Carol was absentmindedly gazing at the carousel, with its old wooden horses turning beneath the wreaths and garlands of colored lights. Anton came up behind her and took her by the arm.

  Carol sighed. “I know it’s a kids’ thing. But would you believe me if I told you I’d never ridden on one?”

  “Not even when you were little?” asked Anton.

  “I grew up in the country, and the fair never stopped in our village. When I finally came to London to study, I was already too old, and then the war came and . . .”

  “And now you want to go for a ride. Follow me.” Anton took Carol to the ticket booth. “Your first wooden horse is my treat. Go on. Get on that one,” he said, pointing to a horse with a brassy blond mane. “The others look a little skittish, and I think it’s best to choose a reliable mount your first time.”

  “You’re not coming with me?” asked Carol.

  “Uh, no, not me. Just looking at them makes me dizzy. But I promise I won’t take my eyes off you.”

  A bell rang, and Anton stepped down from the platform as the merry-go-round began to turn. Sam, Alice, and Eddy came over to watch Carol. She was the only adult in the middle of a ride full of children. By the second turn, tears were streaming down her cheeks, in spite of her efforts to brush them away.

  “Nice going,” said Alice to Anton, punching him in the arm.

  “I don’t understand. She said she wanted . . .”

  “She wanted to go on the ride with you, not public humiliation.”

  “He said he didn’t do it on purpose,” said Sam, butting in.

  “Why don’t the two of you act like gentlemen for a change instead of just standing there?” Alice said.

  While Sam and Anton were still bickering about who should rescue Carol, Eddy had already jumped on the turning carousel and made his way up through two rows of horses until he reached her.

  “In need of a groom, milady?” he said, resting his hand on the horse’s mane.

  “Oh please, Eddy, just help me down from here.”

  But instead Eddy hopped in the saddle behind her, squeezed her in his arms, and leaned over to whisper in her ear.

  “What’s all this? Where’s the strong Carol I used to know? You shouldn’t forget that when I was loafing around in pubs, you were carrying stretchers under the bombs. The next time we turn past our friends, I want you laughing like a fool.”

  “How do you expect me to do that, Eddy?” asked Carol with a hiccup.

  “Well, if you think you look silly on this nag in the middle of all these kids, just imagine me here behind you with my terrible cigar and my newsboy cap.”

  On the next turn, they were both chuckling as though nothing had happened.

  To show he was sorry for abandoning Carol, Anton bought everyone a round of beer at the refreshment stand. While they were drinking, Alice noticed a sign announcing that Harry Groombridge and his orchestra were playing in the old theater that had been transformed into a café after the war.

  “Shall we go?” she asked the others.

  “What’s stopping us?” said Eddy.

  “We’d miss the last train, and I don’t fancy the idea of sleeping on the beach this time of year,” Sam said.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” said Carol. “When the first set is over, we’ll still have half an hour to walk back to the station. It’s cold, and a little dancing would warm us up. What could be merrier just before Christmas?”

  The men didn’t have a better idea, and Sam quickly realized that the tickets were only twopence. If they didn’t go dancing, his friends would want to have dinner in a pub, which would be far more expensive.

  The hall was full of people eager to hear Harry Groombridge and his men. Nearly everybody was dancing. Anton took Alice and pushed Eddy into Carol’s arms. Sam watched the two couples from an amused distance.

  As Anton had predicted, the day had flown past. When the orchestra stood up and bowed, Carol made a signal to her friends that it was time to head back. They maneuvered their way through the crowd to the exit.

  The lanterns swinging in the breeze of the winter night made the pier seem like an ocean liner steaming full speed ahead into an ocean it would never cross. Alice and her friends were almost off the pier when they noticed a fortune-teller smiling at them from her small caravan.

  “Have you ever wondered what the future has in store for you?” asked Anton.

  “Never,” said Alice. “I don’t believe in that kind of thing.”

  “At the beginning of the war, a fortune-teller told my brother he’d stay alive as long as he moved house,” said Carol. “He’d forgotten all about it when he joined up, but two weeks later, his block of flats got hit by a bomb. None of the residents survived.”

  “Amazing,” said Alice dryly.

  “Nobody knew that the Blitz was coming back then,” retorted Carol.

  “Why don’t you go and see what she says?” Anton asked Alice, visibly amused by the idea.

  “Don’t be silly. We have a train to catch.”

  “There’s time. Go on, I’ll pay for it.”

  “No, really. I don’t feel like hearing a lot of nonsense.”

  “Leave Alice alone,” said Sam. “Can’t you see she’s scared?”

  “Listen to the three of you. I’m not scared. I just don’t believe in things like tarot cards and crystal balls. Besides, why are you all so interested in my future?”

  “Maybe one of them is secretly dreaming you’ll end up in his bed,” said Carol.

  Anton and Eddy looked stunned. Carol blushed and wished she hadn’t said anything.

  “You could ask her if we’re going to miss our train,” added Sam, pretending not to have heard Carol’s gaffe. “That way we can test her accuracy without having to wait too long.”

  “Joke all you like,” said Anton, “but unlike you, I believe in these things. If you go, I’ll go after you.”

  Alice’s friends surrounded her.

  “You’ve all gone quite mad,” she said, trying to push past them before finally
giving up. “But since I’m dealing with four children bent on missing their train, I’ll go and listen to whatever foolishness that woman has to say, and then we’ll go home. How does that sound?” She held out her hand to Anton. “Are you giving me twopence or what?”

  Alice went over to the caravan. A gust of wind made her lower her head as though she had suddenly been forbidden to look the old woman in the eyes. Maybe Sam was right. The thought of having her future read bothered her more than she had expected.

  The woman invited Alice to take a seat on the stool across from her. Her eyes were large, her gaze penetrating. She never stopped smiling an eerie but enchanting smile. She had no crystal ball or tarot cards, just long, age-spotted hands that she extended, taking Alice’s fingers in her own. When Alice touched them, a strange, gentle feeling filled her body, a comforting sensation of well-being that she hadn’t known in a very, very long time.

  “I’ve seen you before, my girl,” said the fortune-teller.

  “Ever since you started watching me just now, I imagine.”

  “I see. You don’t believe in my gifts.”

  “I’m a rational person,” Alice replied.

  “No, you’re an artist, an independent and free-thinking woman. Although it’s true that your fears—what you call ‘being a rational person’—sometimes hold you back.”

  “Why is everybody calling me a coward this evening?”

  “You didn’t look very sure of yourself when you decided to come and see me.”

  The fortune-teller leaned over and peered deep into Alice’s eyes. Their faces were only inches apart.

  “Where have I seen those eyes before?” the old woman asked.

  “In a past life?” asked Alice.

  Visibly disturbed, but not by Alice’s sarcasm, the fortune-teller suddenly sat up.

  “Ambergris, vanilla, and leather,” whispered Alice.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Your perfume. You love the East. I can read certain things about people too.”

  “Ah, yes. You have a gift; it’s true.” She paused. “But what is more, you carry a story without even realizing it.”

  “Don’t you ever stop smiling?” asked Alice teasingly. “Is that how you lull your prey into a false sense of security?”

  “I know why you came to see me,” the old woman continued, ignoring Alice’s question. “It’s funny when you think about it.”

  “You heard my friends daring me to do it?”

  “Well, yes, I did. But you’re not an easy person to dare. Your friends have nothing to do with it.”

  “What, then?”

  “The solitude that haunts you and keeps you awake at night.”

  “That doesn’t sound very funny to me. Go on. Tell me something astonishing. It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, but I’ve got a train to catch.”

  “No, it isn’t funny. You’re right . . .” Her voice had grown quiet and thoughtful. She gazed into the distance, and Alice felt like she had been abandoned.

  “You were going to say something?”

  “What is funny,” she said, speaking normally again, “is that the most important man in your life, the one you’ve been looking for without even knowing it, was walking behind you just a few moments ago.”

  Alice couldn’t resist the desire to turn around and look, but when she turned she only saw her friends waving to say it was time to go.

  “Is it one of them?” Alice asked. “Eddy or Sam or Anton?”

  “Listen to me, Alice. Don’t just hear what you want to hear. I told you that the man who will matter the most in your life was just behind you. He’s not there anymore.”

  “And where is my Prince Charming now?”

  “Patience, my girl. You’ll have to meet six other people first.”

  “Six? That’s an awful lot.”

  “An amazing journey, I’d say. You’ll understand one day, but it’s late and I’ve revealed everything you need to know. And since you don’t believe a word I say, the consultation is free.”

  “No, I’d rather pay.”

  “No need. We’ll call our time together a chat between old friends. I’m glad I got to see you, Alice. I wasn’t expecting it. You’re somebody very special, or at least, your story is.”

  “What story?”

  “We don’t have time for that, and besides, you won’t believe me. Go on, or your friends will blame you for making them miss the train.”

  They both fell silent, and then exchanged smiles before Alice returned to her friends.

  “You should see the look on your face! What did she tell you?” asked Anton.

  “I’ll tell you later. Have you seen the time?” Alice hurried past them and toward the exit off the pier.

  “She’s right,” said Sam. “The train leaves in twenty minutes.”

  They all began running. The ocean breeze mixed with a fine rain.

  Eddy took Carol by the arm. “Watch out. The ground is slippery,” he said, leading her in the race for the station.

  The weak glow of the streetlights led the way as they headed up the road. In the distance, they could see the lights of Brighton station. They shouted to the railway official as they ran up to the platform. He held his lantern high and motioned for them to board the nearest carriage. The men helped the women up, and Anton was still on the running board when the train began to move forward. Eddy grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him inside.

  “A minute later and we would have missed it,” gasped Carol.

  Eddy turned to Alice. “Poor thing. You’re as white as a sheet,” he said.

  Alice said nothing. Immersed in her thoughts, she watched Brighton disappear into the distance. She was thinking about what the woman had told her.

  “So, are you going to tell us about your glorious future?” asked Anton, interrupting her reverie. “After all, we almost had to sleep out in the cold because of you.”

  “Because you stupidly goaded me,” snapped Alice.

  “Did she tell you anything crazy?” asked Carol.

  “Nothing I didn’t know already. Those people are just con artists. With a decent sense of observation, some intuition, and self-assurance, you can string anybody along.”

  “But you still haven’t said what she told you,” insisted Sam.

  Anton intervened out of mercy. “We’ve had a wonderful day. Let’s leave it at that. I’m sorry, Alice. We shouldn’t have insisted. You didn’t want to, and we were all a little too . . .”

  “Silly. And I was the worst of us,” apologized Alice in return, her voice softening. “But I have a much more pressing question. What are you all doing for Christmas Eve?”

  Carol was going to see her family in St Mawes. Anton was having dinner with his parents in town. Eddy had promised his sister he’d spend the evening with her because his nephews were expecting Father Christmas, and his brother-in-law had already rented him a costume to wear. It was difficult to turn down because his brother-in-law had often helped Eddy out of a tight spot without ever telling Eddy’s sister. Sam had been asked to lend a hand at a charity event that his boss had organized for the children in the Westminster Orphanage.

  “What about you?” Anton asked Alice.

  “Oh, I’ve been invited to a party.”

  “Where?” he insisted.

  Carol gave him a discreet kick in the shin before taking a packet of biscuits from her handbag and passing it around, proclaiming she was hungry as a horse. She glared at Anton as he nursed his wound in outraged silence.

  The train’s acrid smoke swept across the platform as it pulled into Victoria station. In the streets outside, a thick smog from the city’s coal-burning fireplaces gripped the neighborhood and floated in the depressed yellowy glow of the sodium streetlights.

  They all took the same bus. Alice and Carol were the first to get off—they lived just a few streets apart from each other.

  “If you’d like,” Carol said as they were parting ways on Alice’s doorstep
, “I mean, if you change your mind about the party, you’re welcome to spend Christmas with us in St Mawes. My mother has wanted to meet you for such a long time. I often mention you in my letters, and she’s intrigued to know more about what a ‘nose’ does exactly.”

  “Oh, I’m not very good at talking about what I do,” said Alice, thanking Carol for the kind offer.

  She kissed her friend good night and headed upstairs. She could hear the footsteps of her neighbor Mr. Daldry on the staircase ahead of her, and waited a moment on the landing so she wouldn’t run into him.

  It was almost as cold in her flat as it had been outside. Alice kept her coat and mittens on as she filled the kettle and put it on the gas, only to discover she was out of tea. She took a few dried rose petals from her worktable and crumbled them into the teapot before pouring the hot water over them and settling into bed. She picked up the book she had abandoned the night before. Suddenly, the room went black.

  Alice put down her book, climbed up on her bed, and peered out of the skylight. The electricity had gone out in the entire neighborhood. Often such cuts lasted until morning. She got down off the bed and stumbled round the flat, patting around in the dark, trying to find a candle, but the little stub of wax by the sink reminded her there were none left.

  She tried in vain to light its practically nonexistent wick, but the flame only vacillated a moment before going out.

  How frustrating. Alice wanted to note down the ideas she had about the smells of the sea wind, the salt water, and the pilings eaten away by the spray. If she went to bed now, she would never fall asleep. She hesitated a moment before sighing and heading across the landing to ask her neighbor for help.

  Daldry came to the door holding a candlestick. He was wearing cotton pajama bottoms and a turtleneck sweater under a navy-blue silk dressing gown. His face had a strange pallor in the glow of the candlelight.

  “I’ve been expecting you, Miss Pendelbury.”

  “You’ve what?” she asked, startled.

  “Ever since the electricity went out. I don’t sleep in these clothes, as you might imagine. Here’s what you came for.” He handed her an unlit candle.