Dirty Life's Dirty History

Late 1961

It wasn't that she hadn't been invited. It was that she hadn't been planning to go until Mallory and Vi begged her. And the both Mallory and Vi had to work and couldn't make it in time and neither were interested in fashionably late entrances. They wanted to stare at Robert for the full duration. They also wanted Alice to stare at Robert for the full duration because it had been almost three years since they first encountered him and in those three years, Alice had heard of nothing but him. He was almost a mythological creature, really. A name instead of an actual person. She had almost stopped believing he existed.

Her mother hired a driver to take her up to Manchester. Randolf was due at another function with the company and her parents couldn't attend. This would be the first time Alice was going anywhere completely alone without any connections at all, except her name and her family. But her name and her family was somehow relevant to every party. She didn't feel overwhelmed, just nervous. She wasn't interested in being the center of attention.

Dressed in a dark green cocktail dress, with dark green, almost black gloves to match, she looked like the center of attention, in any case. Their family's driver gave her dark red hair a kiss as he helped her out.

"What time do you want me back?" he asked. "I told your mum I'd have you home by midnight."

"Then, um, I don't think I'll be staying long. Two hours, tops."

Their driver nodded and gave her a little salute. "Enjoy yourself, Miss Alice."

"I will!" she called, her heels clicking on the pavement as she entered the elegant hotel and sought out the ballroom.

Summer of 1960.

“Well, what am I to do?” Alice asked, swinging her feet beneath her so that her heels bounced off the cabinets below. The kitchen counter was no place for sitting, but Margaret was out for the afternoon. “And I don’t understand her fix with me absolutely not being in the wedding.”

“She hasn’t got a fix, Alice,” Scott muttered around an apple. It was caught between his teeth as he used both hands to search for a knife.

“She’s not letting me, though. It’s not as though you have a dozen sisters. There’s no rule for how many bridesmaids you have. Mum and Dad had loads of people in their wedding!”

“She wants to keep it small, Alice. Plenty of groom-sisters don’t make it into weddings.”

“That isn’t fair for any of us.” Alice looked out the window at the bright day and let her heel bang more resolutely against the wood cabinet. “I’m afraid I can’t like Winifred anymore.”

Scott looked up, knife in hand, though he hardly looked dangerous with an apple in his mouth. “What?”

( 'She’s a domineering psychopath.' )