The Liberation of Alice Love(31)
Author: Abby McDonald

Flora looked up, immediately flipping her sketchbook closed. “Oh, OK. Have fun. Will you be back for supper?”

Alice paused. “I think so? Yes,” she corrected herself, seeing Flora’s hopeful expression. She looked very small and delicate, tucked in among the huge cushions. Alice softened. “Did you want to eat together?”

“That would be fun.” Flora smiled. “There’s stuff in the fridge, but we could order takeout. Chinese, Indian…Whatever you want.”

Alice took a step back. “Don’t go to any trouble, really.”

“Oh no, it isn’t.” Flora blinked. “I usually just order in when Stefan’s away. He does all the cooking,” she added, her voice becoming slightly wistful.

“Well, then fine. Takeout,” Alice agreed. “Your pick.”

“I’ll see you later then!” Flora smiled, but she didn’t resume her sketching. Instead, she watched Alice: “You look nice.”

“Oh, thanks.” Alice glanced down, pleased but still self-conscious about her effort. “What are you working on?”

Flora looked embarrassed. “It’s nothing. Just…”—she bit her lip—“I’m trying out a new project. It’s completely different from anything I’ve done before,” she added quickly. “So, I’m kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be,” Alice reassured her. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“I don’t know…” Flora sighed expressively. “It’s much more challenging. But I’ve been wanting to push myself, as an artist, you know? Really try something different, new.”

Alice was surprised. She would have wagered that Flora would keep churning out her dreamy lakeside scenes and pretty still-life paintings for years. “What’s the subject?”

Flora took a breath, as if to brace herself. “Kittens!”

“Kittens?” Alice repeated. Feeling Flora’s gaze on her, she did her best to keep a straight face. “That’s…lovely!”

“I know, right?” Flora broke out into a smile, relieved. “I’ve been doing preliminary sketches, trying to get used to the anatomy and movement, but it’s such a change.” She held out her pad, and Alice had no choice but to come closer and make appreciative noises over the rough sketches of balls of furry delight in various poses. “See, I’ve been working from these photos of Ginny’s new kittens. Here’s Snowball playing with yarn, and Tinkerbell sleeping, and Princess Fluffy…Doesn’t she look so cute, with her little paws!”

“Very cute,” Alice agreed. “Look, I better get going…”

“Oh, of course!” Flora gave her a sunny grin. “You really like them?”

“I do.” Alice nodded, backing away.

***

Leaving Flora to her kittens, Alice took the Tube across town. She was meeting Nathan at his own office this time, in Bloomsbury, and as she made her way down escalators and through the gray, cavernous tunnels beneath London, she couldn’t help but think of her stepsister with a faint twinge of envy. The kitten project would undoubtedly be a huge success: earning Flora adoration and more substantial sums that Stefan would wisely invest on her behalf—further cushioning her in the perfect world of comfort, satisfaction, and zero responsibility that she’d inhabited ever since she was a child. The world seemed to bend itself around Flora in a way it never had for Alice: curving gently to protect her from harsh realities while the rest of them struggled and ached and slammed against rejection and indifference at every turn.

She loved Flora, of course she did—and trying to hold a grudge against her was like holding a grudge against those adorable kittens—but Alice wondered sometimes what would happen to her if this favored existence ever crumbled. Flora folded like tissue paper when her favorite pink pastel broke, so how would she ever cope if, say, Stefan wasn’t around to wrap her in a warm cocoon of cotton wool? But, of course, that would never happen, Alice reminded herself, pushing through the press of sweaty bodies in time to make her stop. Or, if it did, another man would ride up, eager to play Prince Charming. There were probably half a dozen likely prospects already: art collectors or investment bankers who already gazed wistfully at Flora across crowded rooms.

Alice pulled her card from her handbag and briskly swiped through the turnstiles, checking herself A to Z to orientate herself before setting off down the street. Comparing herself to Flora had always been a futile task, she knew, but still, Alice felt a small pang remembering those looks of adoration. She doubted anyone had ever gazed at her like that. She just wasn’t the sort.

***

Nathan’s office wasn’t quite what Alice expected. Or rather, it looked exactly how a serious financial professional would choose to present himself—and that was the odd thing. She didn’t know him at all, but Alice hadn’t thought he was the kind of man to pick dark wood paneling, somber leather furniture, and a wall full of important framed certificates and photos at the golf course/cigar club/yacht club.

“Alice, good to see you.” Nathan’s voice was easy as he ushered her into the room. “You found the office OK?”

“Yes, fine thanks.” He was dressed smarter than she’d seen before, in navy trousers and a crisp white shirt, but as Alice followed him in, she caught sight of his jacket flung over the back of an executive chair; carelessly crumpled. For some reason, she found it reassuring.

“Take a seat. I’d offer you a coffee, but the machine and I are having something of a disagreement.” Flashing her a grin, he took some papers from the top of a filing cabinet. “Well, all-out war, to be honest. Many good beans lost in pursuit of a fine grind, but I’ll beat the damn thing into submission eventually.”

“It’s OK. I’m good without.” Alice took a seat and glanced at his antique desk, curious. It was clear, except for a cluster of small, shiny gadgets: an array of high-tech toys in gleaming monochrome that she couldn’t even begin to identify. For some reason, this didn’t square with her memory of him either, old-fashioned in that linen suit at the garden party.

But, of course, those were only her idle thoughts, Alice reminded herself, feeling self-conscious for even remembering. She didn’t really know him at all.

Alice pulled out her notebook and brandished her pen, trying to snap back into a more businesslike mode. “What’s the news?”