Wish You Were Here

Chapter 20



Alice dared to look down at the tiny island once they were airborne. It was a little cloudy and she remembered her conversation with Milo about how there were never any clouds over Kethos. But there are today, she thought, gazing out of the window past Stella’s shoulder and noting how the wispy whiteness of them blocked part of the island’s famous heart shape.

A broken heart, she thought.

She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, blocking out the last view of the island. She didn’t want to see it any more. Like Milo, it was part of her past but, even though she’d told herself that a hundred times since seeing him the day before, she had still looked out for him as they’d left the villa, wondering if he would suddenly turn up on his little moped with an amazingly simple excuse for everything and, as she’d boarded the ferry, her eyes had dared to scan the streets of Kethos Town.

Stella had noticed and had shaken her head. ‘You’re still pining after him, aren’t you? Well, he’s not coming. He’s probably making baby number seven with his wife right now.’

Her sister certainly knew how to twist the knife, Alice thought.

The journey home was unbearable. There was a crying baby on board the plane but even that wasn’t making as much noise as Stella who found something to moan about at least every ten minutes. Alice kept her eyes resolutely shut and pretended she was asleep.

When she finally got home to her little cottage, she locked the door behind her and slumped into her favourite armchair by the empty fireplace, relishing the first moments of silence that she’d had to herself all day and cursing herself for having ever gone to Greece in the first place. She’d been foolish to have thought that a holiday with Stella would be anything other than torturous. She should have said no. She would have been better off taking a week off work and sitting in her favourite chair reading a big pile of novels.

As she pottered around the kitchen trying to find something to eat, her mind floated back to Kethos and she couldn’t help wondering what Milo was doing. He was two hours ahead of her so he would probably have had dinner by now. Perhaps he was putting some of his many children to bed.

‘I’m not going to think about him,’ she said to herself. He probably wasn’t thinking about her, was he? Not with six or seven children to see to.

After eating a rather dull pasta supper, Alice showered and went to bed. The unpacking could wait; all she wanted to do now was sleep and forget.

When she awoke the next morning, a coldness swept over her as she realised where she was. Home. She was no longer on the little Greek island with the promise of a day of sunshine and fun before her. She was on the outskirts of Norwich with a day of work ahead of her. Life was back to normal.

She got out of bed and began the usual ritual of getting ready to go to work, her body carrying her through the motions with little need for consultation with her brain. Reaching into her wardrobe, her hands automatically went for a white blouse, a dark skirt and a cardigan in a shade that purported to be ‘dove’ but was just a bog-standard grey. This was the true her, wasn’t it? She couldn’t wear turquoise or violet to the office. It just wasn’t her. That other Alice had been nothing more than a dream but she had awoken now and had accepted a life that was far less colourful.

She’d just shut the front door when a familiar figure walked up the path. It was Wilfred the postman and he was looking flustered.

‘Are you okay?’ she said. ‘You’ve gone quite pink!’ She reached out a hand to touch his arm and he leapt in the air.

‘Alice!’ he said, breathing out her name in an alarming manner, his voice seeming to have lowered by at least an octave.

‘Wilfred?’

‘You’re wonderful,’ he said, his eyes scarily huge in his face as his postal bag dropped to the ground.

She frowned. What on earth had got into him this morning? ‘Wilfred – you’re scaring me! Do you want to sit down?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I feel I could fly when I’m with you, Alice! Why would I want to sit down?’

‘I really think you should go home. You don’t sound normal,’ Alice said, genuinely concerned.

‘That’s right! I’m not normal because I’ve realised something for the first time in my life!’

‘What?’

‘That I’m in love!’ he said, his pink face now practically glowing. ‘And it’s with you, Alice! You!’

‘I’ve got to get to work,’ Alice said quickly, perturbed by the strange behaviour of her normally dour postman.

‘Don’t leave me!’ Wilfred said, grabbing hold of Alice’s arm as she walked away. ‘You can’t leave me like this!’

‘Wilfred – let go of me!’ Alice tugged and her arm was free. ‘Go home,’ she told him. ‘Please go home!’

She shook her head as she walked away. What on earth had got into him? She had never seen him like that before. She glanced back quickly to make sure he wasn’t following her but luckily he wasn’t. He’d picked up his bag once again and was off on his round as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Alice made her way to the bus stop. Bruce was standing there, half-hidden behind his newspaper as usual. He turned around to give Alice his usual nod but then something strange happened and he did a double take so fast that Alice felt sure his neck would snap.

‘Hello, Alice!’ he said.

She started. She hadn’t been sure if he’d even known her name before because this was the first time he’d used it.

‘God, you look great,’ he said, shaking his head from side to side as if he didn’t quite believe the image standing before him.

‘Do I?’ Alice asked.

‘You look amazing. Amazing! What? I’ve never told you that before?’ he asked.

‘No, Bruce – you haven’t.’

‘Haven’t I?’ His eyebrows shot into his hairline and he looked genuinely appalled by this declaration. ‘Well, you’ll have to forgive me. You will, won’t you?’

‘Bruce – this is all very—’

‘Alice! You must forgive me!’ He dropped his newspaper to the ground and took hold of both of her hands in his, wringing them tightly. ‘I couldn’t live with myself if I thought I’d done you wrong.’

‘But you haven’t!’ Alice assured him, eager to put a stop to all the nonsense.

He shook his head. ‘I fear I must have done if I’ve never told you how wonderful and special you are to me.’

‘What?’

‘You must know that, mustn’t you? I mean, a woman like you can’t go through life without knowing the effect she has.’

‘Bruce – I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

He took a step towards her and she instinctively backed away.

‘Alice,’ he said, his voice raspy and laced with intent.

Luckily, the bus arrived at that precise moment and Alice leapt onto it and sat next to an elderly woman, leaving no room for Bruce to pursue her further. Fifteen minutes later, she hopped off and lost herself in the crowds in the centre of Norwich, hurrying to work before she could be accosted by any more mad men.

What had got into Wilfred and Bruce that morning? Wilfred usually did nothing but moan about his aching joints and the woes of the world and Bruce never even noticed her so what was so different about this morning?

Reaching the office, Alice made a hasty retreat to the ladies’ where she stood gazing at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. What was going on? She’d never got so much male attention in her life before but why now? It was more than the fact that she’d got a bit of a tan and a few highlights in her hair from the Greek sunshine, wasn’t it?

Of course it is, a little voice said. It’s the wish.

She shook her head. The idea was ludicrous. Besides, she didn’t believe in wishes. She’d only made it because she’d been on holiday and it had been a bit of fun. It was nothing more than that. But what did you do if you didn’t believe in wishes but they came true anyway? Alice really wasn’t the kind of person to believe in such whimsy and yet she had placed her hand on the statue of Aphrodite and made that wish.

She thought back to the holiday and remembered the boy on the bicycle, the dark-haired man in Kintos, the babbling gentleman outside the villa and the waiter at the taverna. Even the pelican had been amorous.

‘What did I say?’ she asked her reflection. ‘What were the words?’

She thought back to the moment she’d been standing in the garden, her hand touching Aphrodite’s dress.

‘I wanted men to notice me,’ she said to herself at last. But the pelican wasn’t a man, was it? Alice shook her head. Maybe Aphrodite had a sense of humour. The Greek gods were well-known for being mischievous, weren’t they?

Alice left the sanctuary of the ladies’ and made her way to her desk. Whichever way you looked at it, Aphrodite was just a statue – an inanimate object. She wasn’t a goddess who could grant wishes. She’d never even existed. She was a myth, a legend, a storybook heroine. Alice was just getting carried away. There was probably some perfectly logical explanation for the odd behaviour of Wilfred and Bruce. Maybe they’d had one too many the night before. Maybe their water had been contaminated. Or maybe it was just the fact that it was spring and they were exercising their masculinity.

Alice switched her computer on and prepared herself for the boredom that lay ahead. Actually, she was quite looking forward to a morning of routine jobs after the extraordinary behaviour of Wilfred and Bruce but, by lunchtime, She realised that there was something seriously wrong. Her inbox was jam-packed with emails and they weren’t the normal kind of emails either. For a start, there were an alarming number from her boss.

The first one seemed normal enough:

Alice, I must talk to you.

It sounded a little ominous, perhaps, but it was in Larry’s usual curt style.

The second one was a little more concerning:

I really must speak with you at your earliest convenience. It’s very important.

What could be so important, she wondered? Was there a sudden vacancy they needed to advertise for? Had some vital piece of legislation been decided upon whilst she’d been away?

The third message followed hard upon the heels of the second one:

Alice – see me in interview room number one now.

She looked up from her desk. What was it with all the emails? Larry usually just ordered her around from the comfort of his desk. She swallowed hard, left her desk and walked towards interview room number one.

The door was ajar and she stepped inside and there, standing by the window with his back to her, was Larry.

‘Shut the door, Alice,’ he said. She did as she was told. ‘And sit down.’

‘Goodness, I feel like I’m about to be fired,’ she said as she sat down in the chair that was usually reserved for interviewees. ‘You’re not going to fire me, are you?’ she joked but then saw the expression on his face. He looked deadly serious. ‘Oh, dear! You are, aren’t you?’

‘Fire you?’ he said. ‘Are you kidding? I’m not going to fire you!’

Alice sighed in relief. ‘You looked so serious. I thought I was in trouble!’

‘It’s nothing like that,’ he said.

‘What is it, then?’ Alice asked, completely confused now. She watched as Larry paced the room for a moment, loosening his tie and smoothing a hand over his bald head. Finally, he came to a stop and placed his hands on the table between them, his shoulders slumped forward.

‘I’m leaving my wife, Alice,’ he said.

At first, Alice didn’t know what to say. Even though she had been working alongside Larry for the last three years, they had rarely spoken about their private lives so this sudden declaration was quite shocking.

‘Oh,’ she said after a moment’s silence. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ She really was too. She’d chatted with Monica Baxter at a few office parties and she’d seemed like a sweet soul and they’d been married for absolutely ages. In fact, Alice was pretty sure that their twentieth anniversary was coming up. Hadn’t Larry mentioned it just last month? Yes, she felt sure he had. He’d booked some fancy restaurant where you had to reserve a seat at least six months in advance. So what had happened?

‘I must admit that it’s come as a bit of a shock,’ he continued.

Alice nodded, hoping that he wasn’t going to confess that Monica had been having an affair or something. She really wouldn’t know how to respond to something like that. She’d never talked to Larry before about anything more important than the photocopying.

She waited for him to say something else, wondering how long he would keep her. He obviously needed to talk to somebody and she couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.

All of a sudden, he cleared his throat and sat down in the chair opposite her.

‘What is it?’ she dared to ask, seeing a strange look cross his face. Now she came to think of it, he did look rather flushed. He wasn’t about to have a heart attack, was he?

‘Alice,’ he said. ‘I’m leaving my wife.’

‘Yes, you said.’

He frowned. ‘You don’t understand. I’m leaving my wife for you.’

For a moment, the words hung in the air between them and Alice wondered if she had heard him right.

‘Pardon?’ she asked.

‘I’m leaving my wife for you,’ he repeated.

‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ Alice said with a nervous little smile.

‘I mean, I’m in love with you, Alice, and I can’t understand how I haven’t noticed it before.’ His forehead was ridged and furrowed as if he was in some sort of pain and his hands were reaching out towards her across the table like a pair of predators.

Alice automatically leapt up out of her chair. ‘I can’t listen to this,’ she said, making a run for the door.

‘No!’ Larry yelled, springing up from his chair with the speed of a man half his age. He grabbed Alice’s arm and spun her around. She tried to wriggle free but his grip was too firm.

‘Larry!’ she shouted. ‘You’re hurting me!’

He let go but placed a hand firmly on the door so that she couldn’t escape. ‘Listen to me, Alice. You mean the world to me and I have to be with you.’

‘For goodness’ sake – you’re a married man!’

‘Yes, but I’m married to the wrong woman.’

Alice shook her head. This couldn’t be happening – it was just too surreal. ‘You really need to think about what you’re saying,’ she told him as she looked desperately around the room for some hidden exit that she hadn’t noticed before.

A strange sound left Larry – part groan, part howl. ‘What have you done to me?’

‘I haven’t done anything!’ Alice said, hopelessly.

‘I didn’t feel like this when I left home this morning. You must have done something, Alice!’

‘What do you think I could possibly have done?’

He clutched his head like a bad actor. ‘I’ve got to get out of here.’ He opened the door and charged out into the corridor.

‘Larry, where are you going?’ Alice called, following him as fast as she could.

‘I don’t know,’ he said, mopping his brow with an oversized handkerchief. ‘Home.’

‘You won’t do anything stupid, will you?’

‘You mean like leave my wife?’ he cried, causing a few heads to pop up from behind their computers in the open-plan office.

Alice watched as he grabbed his briefcase from under his desk. ‘We’ll talk about this tomorrow,’ he said, stopping briefly and giving her a strange woebegone look before leaving the department.

Alice stood dumbstruck. This was crazy. Larry Baxter had barely acknowledged her existence over the last few years and yet here he was professing his undying love for her and telling her that he was going to leave his wife.

She returned to her desk and sat down, her hands shaking visibly in her lap. It was the wish, wasn’t it? First Wilfred, then Bruce and now Larry. It was too much to believe that it was a coincidence. She could see that now.

It was then that something else occurred to her.

‘Milo.’

She’d thought she’d met the man of her dreams and that they’d genuinely fallen in love but it had only been the result of the wish, hadn’t it? Sadness swelled her heart as she realised that, even if there hadn’t been the obstacle of him being married with an enormous family, he’d never really been in love with her anyway, had he?

Alice closed her eyes and sighed. Milo was in the past now and she had quite enough to deal with in the present.

‘Oh, God!’ she whispered. ‘What am I going to do?’