pages 23 - 27

What are you thinking Alice!
Alice thought that perhaps her thoughts might be written on her forehead so she had better thought something else quickly. She wrung her hands. As the lump went down her throat, her peter pan collar began to strangle her as if it was an idea that she should not have swallowed. Had someone been feeding her bad ideas?


The Queen was in an off mood. A black swathe of weeping underneath her heartening robes. “Why is it that I’m in such a foul mood everytime someone looks at me. I can’t help it. It is the time of the month for running into cars and ripping people’s heads off.


Then suddenly Alice remembered why she hated all the tarts that had ever existed. At a school camp they had upset her very badly.
“We dare Alice to kiss Jack!”
If Jack had really loved her he wouldn’t have crawled over towards her making grunting noises with his eyes ready to roll out of his sockets and into her pockets. They all laughed merrily because he wasn’t good at English and could always act the fool.


She had dashed into the dark night leaving a trail of tears that no-one followed. And now here she was doing it again because the caterpillar had asked her to take off the blue dress and when she replied that she had tried but she couldn’t he laughed and left.
He laughed and left.


“Twenty cups of tea will fix anything “ said the March Hare.
List
Glasses
Stakes
Book

Morals for every occasion. Even Florence Caulfield Hewlett could not solve her dilemmas.
ASTRAKHAN COLLARS AND CUFFS, To repair.
BLANKETS: to remove teas stains from.
BOOTS AND SHOES, BROWN, to blacken.
BREAD, STALE, to use for.
BUTTONS, PEARL, to preserve when mangled.
FUR, WHITE, To keep in summer.
MUSTARD, value of.
RUGS, to keep flat at edges,
SATIN, BLACK, to renovate.
ANKLES WEAK, BILLIOUS ATTACK, FRECKLES, To remove.

pages 28 - 32

Boo Hoo Hoo
Boo Hoo Hoo
It took me hours to make those tarts, pinching all their little edgings, boiling up the jam as it frothed and settled, frothed and settled. Mixing and rolling and cutting the pastry into little rounds that sit just so in the tart tray. Oh the cheek of him, silently strolling in when my back is turned, and he just flogs them willy nilly and gobbles them up without not one thought for the work I’ve done!


One day Alice met her old school friend Rennay. (Alices’ mouth opened noticeably wide in surprise)
“Rennay – what’s happened . . . . You’ve become a tart!
“Got along a bit with Jack I did”
“Yes but you didn’t have to become a tart!’
“’S Automatic once you sleep with him, didn’t you know his mother’s the Queen of tarts”
“No I thought she was the Queen of . . . .. But surely he could at least marry you with all those babies” ( Rennay had behind her a gaggle of children all falling about each other)
“What’s the point of getting married, I’ve already got all the babies I need. You only get married to ‘ave babies.”

Alice wondered what she could do to help. Maybe we could pick some fruit and I could make some jam or preserves for your babies.
“Got all the jam I need love.”

“How many babies have you got Rennay”, asked Alice looking down for they seemed to be everywhere.
“ 18” said Rennay
“ Eighteen!” said Alice, that’s a lot. . .”
“One for each go at it”, said Rennay.
“You get a baby each time!” started Alice, visibly appalled.
“Yep” said Rennay, suddenly looking doubtful.
“Is it worth it?” enquired Alice
“Small price to pay for a baby” said Rennay.

There was a moment when they had to look around a bit to each gather their thoughts because they had not seen each other for so long it was difficult to make conversation, that with the gentle clamour of 18 babies.

“Anyway why are you still wearing that puffed sleeved dress”, asked Rennay, drawn to pick at Alice’s sleeve.
“It looks fit for a five year old. You must’ve had it 18 years.”
“Yes”, said Alice, “I’ve been wearing it 18 years and I can’t get it off.”
Then it dawned on Alice that Rennay was 18 and she had 18 children!

“the Queen of hearts . . . .” Alice began because she was curious . . .
“It’s all a big front!” blurted Rennay, “It’s just a great big tart factory – they plan to take over the world!”

“It’s all a big front!” Rennay said again, as if the first time she may have been speaking only to herself. “And another thing, Jack is not really her son!”
“Not her son!” exclaimed Alice, willing to join in.
“No, he’s her lover”.
“ Her lover . . . I thought he was your lover!”
“He is the lover of lovers and she keeps him in the castle as her ‘son’ so no-one will know and so he’s handy like.”
“But what about the king, surely he knows? He’s no dimwit. Not a clue?”

Could this be true ? thought Alice


Could this be true?
Some things were true. Some things were not what they seemed and somethings that you thought could not possibly be true because you hadn’t even thought them, were true simply because no-one could think them up. But Rennay had thought this AND also said it.


It’s just a bureaucratic bungle. The people I judge aren’t even real. Their crimes are so petty, I don’t know why I have to waste my time. I cut off all their heads and still nobody notices! The bugger who stole my tarts has still not been apprehended.

pages 33 -37

Guilty of . . . . . walking on living grass, not recycling properly,
not having a matching set of crockery,
having sideburns and long fingernails.


I thought I’d give Rennay a break from her children and took her out for afternoon tea,
but she just started stripping off and dancing on the table.


“You cannot change a tiger’s stripes!” said the Duchess.


I thought I may as well get married.
May as welln’t I?

We were married by the guinea pig Rufus, who though being shy had managed to avoid being suppressed by running very fast whenever anybody spoke. We had a silent ceremony until we had to say the “I dos” and then we turned around to see that he was not there anymore.


Taking advice from the rabbits
I procreated.

pages 38 - 42

She conceived 856 offspring within wedlock.
Her puffed sleeves grew bigger than ever and she still could not take her dress off. She was advised to trim her hair for the births but it grew back immediately. Like one of those dolls.


Dustmites in the sheets! Sponges not sterilized!
Four children were not placed on the control crying regime!
Not looking after yourself!
Letting yourself go !


She was very respectable, though she didn’t want to be. Though having so many children makes it obvious where you’ve laid your eggs. She didn’t really feel up to wearing white anymore.


What was the deal with white rabbits?
Who did they think they were fooling?


Alice remembered the cup who refused to have tea poured into it. Stains!
The cup and matching pot sat on a shelf together for years very still.

pages 43- 47

When Alice was
a tea-pot,
she poured.
Pour pour Alice.

Hot tears
Over a hot face
Soaked up by
the white linen
tablecloth

Sometimes Alice
Would sit and look at each stain
Remembering each
Tear-soaked afternoon.


Puffed sleeves never helped anyone work out what to make 856 children for tea. Tuna mornay again?


And the moral of that is . . . .
Always get take-away!
The duchess always kept a sea of remarks up her sleeves.


In the garden Alice met Sinthea who was looking quite perky with matching twin daughter (all three were matching). Alice had tried for a pair of those and had been rewarded with a pair of unmatching guinea pigs.
Alice knew by Sinthea’s beautiful smile that
Alice looked to Sinthea like the tart that
Alice had always wanted to be.


“It was lovely to see you,” lied Sinthea. They swapped addresses, they would never use, but would leave regretfully folded up in the bottoms of their handbags to torment their consciences for years afterwards.
(Alice and Sinthea were peas in a pod)

pages 48 - 52

She had landed upside down like a beetle. Her little mushroom legs kicking in the air but not prevailing. The rabbit saw it as the opportune moment that he had been waiting for.


Amongst the shopping, burping and feeding, washing up and hanging out the rabbit had been and gone. The thousand labium had opened up and spores were popping into the air. Alice had locked herself into the pantry. Even in that still airless room, she could feel the air between each of her fingers. The cavity beneath her ribs was hollowed out with even more hunger and her bottom half throbbed. She watched the dust motes float in the sunshine that spoked through the slats.

Dips, tissues, crackers, coconut, milk, corned beef, mince, lasagna pasta,
She was a warm muffin of sponge freshly doused in the dripping chocolate icing and was rolling around in the slatternly coconut. Come back and eat me, she called.


Am I taking the mouse out to make tea or am I putting it in to take mouse tea? “Now where was I?” said Alice aloud to herself. She had to speak out loud and clearly to arrange her thoughts and to put one foot in front of the other. Her hair swathed thick around her so that she would not see or hear the children.


If I was a rabbit, I wouldn’t worry about being late. Nor would I eat grass. I would eat Alice, thought Alice.


Where was she and where had she put the children?