Alice-Miranda Shines Bright 8 (7 page)

 

A
lice-Miranda was awake much earlier than she should have been, considering how late she and Millie had got to bed. She rolled over to see Millie was still fast asleep. Alice-Miranda threw off the covers and silently gathered up some clean underwear, her jodhpurs and a t-shirt. She grabbed the towel hanging on the back of the door and headed to the shower.

The room was already a hive of activity with the older girls getting ready for their orientation day at Sainsbury Palace.

‘Good morning, Susannah,' Alice-Miranda said to the girl who was brushing her hair in front of the mirror.

‘Hello Alice-Miranda,' Susannah smiled. ‘I wish I could come out on Buttercup and help you look for Mr Parker today. I don't know why we had to have orientation day on the weekend. It's not fair!'

‘I'm so sad that you're leaving,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘It won't be the same without you here and I know Bony will miss Buttercup, even though he's not always the best mannered around her.'

‘I don't want to go either. None of us do. If you'd asked me a year ago, I would have said that I couldn't wait to get out of this place, but we've had so much fun lately. Miss Grimm is brilliant and Miss Reedy's English classes are amazing.'

Alice-Miranda frowned.

‘What's the matter?' Susannah asked.

‘Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about something you said.'

‘Well, I hope you find Mr Parker,' said Susannah.

‘Me too,' the tiny child called after her. ‘Have a good day.'

Alice-Miranda was showered and dressed by the time Jacinta appeared in the bathroom.

‘Hello,' Alice-Miranda said. ‘Did you sleep well? I had lots of dreams about Mr Parker and Mrs Parker and your mother too.'

Jacinta ignored Alice-Miranda and walked straight over to one of the shower cubicles. She hung a lemon-coloured dress on the hook outside.

Alice-Miranda looked at the pretty outfit. ‘I thought you had to wear your uniform for the orientation.'

‘I'm not going,' Jacinta informed her.

‘Why not?'

‘Because I'll be grounded for sure,' Jacinta said matter-of-factly.

‘Oh, Miss Grimm won't do that,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘She won't want you to miss out. You might have some extra chores to do later but I'm sure she knows how important it is for you to go to the orientation.'

Jacinta hopped into the cubicle and slammed the door.

Alice-Miranda wondered if she should go and see Miss Grimm before Mrs Howard could tell her about Jacinta's late-night expedition.

‘See you at breakfast, Jacinta,' Alice-Miranda called over the noise of the shower.

There was no answer. Clearly Jacinta was upset at having done something to jeopardise her good record, thought Alice-Miranda. She knew exactly what she had to do.

 

‘Good morning, Miss Grimm,' Alice-Miranda said.

‘To what do I owe this early visit?' Miss Grimm was standing in the back doorway of the flat that was part of Winchesterfield Manor. She was still in her pale pink dressing-gown, with a matching pair of fluffy slippers on her feet.

‘I'm sorry to be a bother, but I really need to speak to you.'

‘This sounds serious,' Miss Grimm replied.

‘I think it is,' Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘It's about Jacinta . . .'

Alice-Miranda was welcomed into the kitchen, where Mr Grump was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. She sat down and began to explain.

A little while later when Alice-Miranda arrived in the dining room, Jacinta was already lined up at the bain-marie, which was loaded with scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns. Alice-Miranda slotted in behind her friend and was about to let her know about her conversation with Miss Grimm, when Miss Reedy appeared.

‘Jacinta, can you tell me what you're wearing?' she asked, glaring at Jacinta's lemon-yellow dress.

‘A dress,' the child said curtly.

Miss Reedy frowned. ‘Of course I can see that it's a dress but it's not the right dress, is it?'

‘I'm not going,' Jacinta said as she continued along the line. She dumped an extra-large spoonful of Mrs Smith's creamy scrambled eggs onto her plate.

‘Of course you are,' Miss Reedy said. ‘Last time I looked you were in the sixth grade.'

‘But I'm in trouble. I'm sure that Miss Grimm is about to send for me at any minute and so I'm not going,' Jacinta said.

Alice-Miranda interrupted the pair. ‘Excuse me, Miss Reedy, Jacinta. Good news – Miss Grimm said that of course you can go to the orientation today but she'll speak to you when you get back this evening.'

‘What did you do?' Jacinta demanded.

‘I knew you were upset about what happened last night and so I talked with Mrs Howard and Miss Grimm and they decided that there must have been a reason for your disappearing like that and of course it's very important that you go today so that you'll know more about the new school,' Alice-Miranda prattled.

‘Disappearing?' Miss Reedy looked at Jacinta.

‘It's all right, Miss Reedy. Millie and I found her and there was no harm done,' Alice-Miranda smiled.

‘Really? Is that what you think?' Jacinta snatched up a slice of toast.

‘It sounds to me, Jacinta, like you have Alice-Miranda to thank for not being basted today. Hurry up and eat your breakfast and I'll see you, in uniform, at the bus in twenty minutes.' Miss Reedy watched as Jacinta stalked off to a table in the far corner of the room.

Alice-Miranda looked at her teacher. ‘I was only trying to help.'

‘Yes, I know you were, sweetheart. Perhaps Jacinta's just going through a phase,' Miss Reedy explained.

‘That's what Mummy said. I hope so. She seems awfully cross.' Alice-Miranda picked up a plate and served herself breakfast. She spotted Jacinta dumping most of her breakfast in the bin. Moments later the girl was gone.

 

 

M
illie had entered the dining room just as Jacinta was leaving. She told Alice-Miranda that her attempt to say hello had been completely ignored and Jacinta's face was darker than a thundercloud.

The girls decided that they would try to talk to her again that evening. There had to be a reason for her foul mood. They finished their breakfast and headed off to see Mrs Smith.

‘Good morning, my lovelies,' Doreen Smith greeted the girls. ‘And what can I do for you today?'

‘We're going to the police station to see if we can help Constable Derby look for Mr Parker,' Alice-Miranda explained.

‘We should be able to cover a fair bit of ground on Chops and Bony,' Millie added.

‘And you're after some lunch to take with you, I presume.' Mrs Smith walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a slab of cold roast beef, some lettuce, tomatoes and cheese.

Both girls nodded.

‘Why don't you go back to the house, brush your teeth and gather your things, and then you can pop back in ten minutes and I'll have it ready,' the cook promised. ‘I do hope that they find the poor man. I've been feeling sick about it all night.'

Just as the girls were about to leave, the screen door opened and Charlie Weatherly walked in.

‘Dor, are you here?' he called. The trio were in the far corner hidden by a rack of saucepans hanging above one of the giant cookers.

‘Yes, Charlie,' Mrs Smith called back.

The old man walked into view. ‘Morning, girls,' he nodded.

‘We're going to look for Mr Parker,' Alice-Miranda informed him.

Charlie's brow knotted. ‘I'm afraid that won't be necessary.'

‘Has Mr Parker been found? Is he all right?' Alice-Miranda babbled.

‘We don't know, but the police have found Nurse Raylene's car at one of the main train stations up north. A bag of Reg's clothes was in the boot and his watch was in the car too.'

Alice-Miranda and Millie looked at each other, then back at the adults.

‘Oh.' Alice-Miranda's face fell.

‘Well, at least they should be able to see whether he was with her,' Millie began. ‘Don't they have cameras all over the railways?'

‘Yes, they're hoping to find something, but the ticket seller said that he remembered a woman fitting Nurse Raylene's description buying two tickets and there was a man with her,' Charlie explained.

‘So they should be able to find out where they've gone,' Alice-Miranda said. ‘I suppose it's good news in a way. At least Mr Parker is alive and hopefully there's a good explanation for why he's gone with Nurse Raylene.'

‘Can you imagine how smug Sloane will be when she hears this? She'll think she's the next Sherlock Holmes,' said Millie, rolling her eyes.

Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘And poor Mrs Parker. She'll be devastated.'

‘Don't you worry about Myrtle,' Mrs Smith told the girls. ‘I'll bake her something nice and go and have a cup of tea with her.'

‘And I'll pop over and offer to mow the lawn.' Charlie winked. ‘That should help.'

‘Now what about that ride?' Mrs Smith asked.

‘Do you still want to go out?' Millie asked Alice-Miranda.

Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Why not? We can go exploring and then we can see Miss Hephzibah and Miss Henrietta on the way back.'

‘I wonder if they know about Mr Parker,' said Millie.

‘I suspect Myrtle might want to keep this news to herself for a while, now that it looks like he's run off with his nurse,' Charlie said.

‘I don't suppose anyone could blame her, if that's really what's happened,' Millie said.

Alice-Miranda frowned. ‘We still don't know for sure. There has to be a reason Mr Parker's gone with Nurse Raylene.'

‘Because she didn't nag him to death,' Millie said with a snort.

Charlie Weatherly smiled.

‘Mrs Parker's not that bad,' Alice-Miranda insisted.

Millie and Charlie exchanged grins.

‘We don't have to live with her,' Millie said.

‘Oh, stop that, you two,' Mrs Smith admonished. ‘Now run along and get your things. I'll have your lunch ready soon and I'll call Miss Hephzibah and let her know to expect you later on.'

The girls bade the adults farewell and scampered out the back door.

 

 

S
ilas Wiley had hoped to undertake the first part of his special mission for Finley Spencer on Saturday, but a series of disasters had put paid to that idea. For several years, Silas had run a small pizza restaurant. He'd had modest success until a well-known pizza chain had opened a shop on the high street and drawn many of his customers away. Now, just as things had finally begun to look up, the excellent young chef he'd employed had called it quits without giving any notice at all. Apparently the man had been offered twice as much money by the chain restaurant down the road. Silas hadn't a hope of matching the offer and could hardly leave the spotty fifteen-year-old assistants in charge. So he had spent his entire Saturday up to his elbows in pepperoni and cheese and wondering where he would find another chef with half the skills of his former lad.

Silas rolled over and glanced at the clock. He rubbed his eyes and was shocked to see that it was already past ten. He hopped out of bed and got under the shower. The icy water prickled his skin and he cursed the hot water heater being on the blink again.

Silas lived in the same terrace house he had grown up in. Since his parents passed away he'd been meaning to renovate but hadn't yet got around to it. Florence and Eb Wiley had not been wealthy but they had always worked hard and saved their money. Hence Silas, their only child, had been left the house and a good deal of cash. Sadly, he'd invested that in a range of faltering businesses, including the pizza restaurant and a hire-boat venture on the edge of the village. Unfortunately, a long list of new safety regulations had brought the boat business unstuck faster than a faulty zipper. These days there really wasn't any money left to buy hot water heaters or new appliances, at least not until his businesses were back in the black.

He shivered as he towelled himself dry. Silas chose a white shirt and black trousers from his immaculate wardrobe. Although the house was old and unfashionably decorated, his mother and father had taught him the virtues of being clean and tidy. His clothes were always neatly pressed and he took great pride in his appearance.

Silas finished getting dressed and headed downstairs, where he made a cup of tea and devoured some toast and jam. He opened the envelope from Finley Spencer and unfolded the map. Silas traced the road with his forefinger and wondered how long it would take to reach his destination. He'd never been to that part of the district before and hoped that his horrible sense of direction wouldn't make the assignment more difficult than it should be. If the owner hadn't responded to any of Finley's approaches, Silas wondered why she thought he'd have any more luck. But then again, he was the mayor and that carried quite some weight. Finley Spencer did say that there were rich rewards in her industry and Silas could be very persuasive when he needed to be.

Silas stacked his teacup and saucer on top of the plate and deposited them in the empty sink. He looked at the photograph of his mother and father on the sideboard and silently apologised to them for leaving the place in a mess. The washing up would have to wait.

Silas folded the map, picked up his wallet and car keys, and gathered up the envelope too. His shiny black hatchback was parked on the street out the front of the house. He hopped in and punched the destination into the satellite navigation system he'd recently had installed, courtesy of his mayoral allowance. It wasn't a good look for a man in his position to arrive late, and given that his sense of direction was more like that of a lost sheep than a homing pigeon, it was an essential piece of equipment. A route appeared and Silas started the car, eager to be on his way.

Mrs Potts was tending to her roses in the little front garden across the street. The old woman smiled and waved as Silas eased the car away from the kerb. She'd liked him since he was a little boy. That was the thing, really. Silas was a terribly likeable fellow, in spite of himself.

He turned into the high street and followed the road to the edge of the town, towards Winchesterfield. His navigation system worked a charm, although he did get rather sick of the woman inside bossing him about. Sometimes, on short journeys where he was fairly certain of the way, he'd take a deliberate wrong turn along an alternative route just so he could argue the point with her.

The little car whizzed past the turn-off to Chesterfield Downs and then the girls' school on the right and into the village. He continued past the few shops and the boys' school, Fayle, which he'd begged his parents to let him attend. Unfortunately for Silas, there was no way they could afford the fees. After he failed the scholarship examination it was totally out of the question, so instead he went to the local secondary school in Downsfordvale.

When Silas reached the turn-off he was feeling quite pleased with himself. Not one foot wrong so far. But his smug smile didn't last long. He soon found himself at the mercy of the woman inside his machine. She seemed to have as much idea about where to go as he did. He took the first turn off the main road and ended up on a narrow lane bordered on either side by low stone walls. He wondered how long it would be until he came across a sign, but the road seemed to go on forever until another lane branched off to the left. The map on the satellite navigation looked nothing like where he was. Silas had no idea which way to go so he stayed on the main track. It was no wonder Finley Spencer's people were having trouble making contact with this person. Christopher Columbus could get lost out here.

Silas was relieved when a large set of gates hove into view. At least there must be a house somewhere, he thought to himself. He turned into the driveway, past what looked to be an enormous, dilapidated stable block and on through another set of more elaborate iron gates. The overhanging trees thinned out and he found himself in the most beautiful garden. Up ahead stood one of the most magnificent mansions he'd ever seen. He couldn't understand why he'd never heard of this place before, let alone why the council didn't have it registered as part of their rather profitable open garden scheme. He'd have to talk to the owners about that.

The hatchback puttered around the carriage loop and came to a stop underneath the huge portico. The double front doors had recently been painted and the whole place had an air of renovation about it. Surely in a house this size there would be someone who could assist him with his enquiries and help him on his way.

He hopped out of the car, walked to the front doors and pressed the buzzer on the side. Chimes reverberated inside the house. Silas stood and waited for quite some time before he pressed the buzzer again. Finally the door opened and an old woman peered out.

‘Hello, may I help you?' she asked.

‘Yes, yes, I hope so. My name is Silas Wiley. But then again I'm sure you know that already.' He smiled broadly at her.

The woman looked blank and shook her head.

He assumed that she must be hard of hearing and repeated his name for her benefit. ‘I said that I'm Silas Wiley.'

She shook her head again.

‘The Mayor of Downsfordvale,' he prompted, expecting a flicker of recognition.

‘That's nice, dear,' she said. ‘Would you like to come in?'

What Silas really wanted was to find out where he was and get on his way, but the house was calling to him. He'd always been fascinated by great big piles like this one, and particularly how people ever had the opportunity to live in them – let alone afford their upkeep. He nodded.

‘Through here,' she said and shuffled away.

Silas looked around at the beautiful entrance foyer with its dual staircases rising up either side. The woman led him through a hall that opened into a large country kitchen and directed him to sit down at the table.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?'

Silas thought about it for a moment.

‘It's not a trick question, dear.' She turned and filled the kettle. ‘I'm having one, so it's no bother.'

Silas accepted her offer.

‘I'm afraid you didn't tell me your name earlier,' he said. His eyes darted about the place, taking it all in.

‘Oh, no I didn't.' She smiled. ‘It's Henrietta Sykes.'

‘It's lovely to meet you, Mrs Sykes, and I must say that you have a most magnificent home,' he said sincerely.

‘Yes, she is a lovely old girl. A bit big though.'

‘Surely you don't live here on your own?' he enquired.

‘Oh no. My sister Hephzibah is here and soon enough we're going to have a whole lot of young people too.'

He wondered what she meant. A vague memory scratched at the back of his mind. He remembered there being some debate at the council over a large house on the edge of the woods – now what were they intending to do with it again?

‘Half of the house is being turned over for use as a teaching college,' Henrietta explained. ‘If we can ever get the permissions through the council.' She winked at Silas.

‘Oh, of course, this is Caledonia Manor, isn't it?' Silas had seen the sign on the gate and wondered why the name sounded familiar.

‘Yes, we're hoping to open very soon. It will be lovely to have a house full of youngsters.'

Henrietta set a teacup down in front of Silas and offered him some milk. He nodded and she poured in rather more than he would usually have. He looked longingly at the sugar bowl but shook his head when she held it towards him.

Henrietta sat down opposite him. ‘Now, how can I help you, Mr Wiley?'

‘I was out here looking for someone and I fear I'm a little bit lost,' he began.