Alice-Miranda At School (2 page)

Alice-Miranda discovered lots of things. There was an enormous library, a swimming pool and a lake, fields to play games on, tennis courts, stables and classrooms, which – if she stood on tippy-toes and peered through the windows – looked to have the very best equipment. Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale had everything a school could possibly want and more, but she still couldn't help feeling that something wasn't right. There was something missing, something important that should have been there but wasn't.

Alice-Miranda thought and thought, but she couldn't work it out.

She was walking past the kitchen when she heard the unmistakable sound of muffled sobbing. She opened the screen door and marched straight inside. There among the pots and pans, amid a maze of stainless steel, sat Cook. The words on her lips bubbled and frothed like the pot on the stove behind her.

‘She never likes anything I make. All that perfectly good food going to waste. I might as well be invisible.' Cook blew her nose into a tatty tissue then wiped the back of her hand across her apron.

Alice-Miranda walked right up and tapped the woman on the shoulder. In one movement Cook seized the rolling pin in front of her and leapt to her feet.

‘Hello Cook –' Alice-Miranda stopped and inhaled deeply. ‘Ohh!' she exclaimed. ‘May I try one of those delicious-looking brownies there on the bench? The smell is driving my stomach mad.'

Cook didn't know what to say. Children didn't enter her kitchen, let alone ask for something to eat. She hesitated, slowly lowered the rolling pin back onto the bench and gave a funny sort of half-nod.

Alice-Miranda picked up the nearest brownie and took a giant bite. She was careful not to drop any crumbs.

‘That's the yummiest brownie I have ever tasted. And you know, I have had some rather good ones. Last summer Mummy and Daddy took me to Switzerland and we had lunch with their funny old friend the Baron and his cook baked me some brownies but they weren't anything to compare with this one. You must simply be the most superb brownie cook in the whole wide world.'

Cook couldn't think of a thing to say. It was probably best, given that her usual response was to growl at anyone who dared to comment on her cooking.

Alice-Miranda held out her hand (she wiped the crumbs delicately on her handkerchief and popped it into her pocket first). ‘Please excuse me for being so rude. My name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I am very pleased to meet you, Mrs …?'

Cook frowned and somewhat reluctantly took Alice-Miranda's tiny hand in hers.

‘Smith,' Cook replied with a puzzled look.

‘Well, Mrs Smith, I am so pleased to have met you.
I can't wait to eat your delicious meals and I want to say thank you very much for the brownie. You know –' Alice-Miranda tilted her head and thought for a moment – ‘we might even be related somehow. My mother was a Highton-Smith and before that someone must have been simply a Smith.'

Cook shook some imaginary crumbs from her apron and hesitantly asked Alice-Miranda if she would like a glass of milk to have with the rest of her brownie.

‘Oh, yes please. Now, Mrs Smith, I have a question. I've been looking all around this wonderful school, which has everything I could possibly imagine a school would ever need and more, but there's something missing and I can't work out what it is.' Alice-Miranda bit her lip as she pondered the problem.

Mrs Smith couldn't think of anything either. She believed it was just about the poshest school in the world. So after they had thought for a while, they ate their brownies and drank their milk and Mrs Smith told Alice-Miranda about her grandchildren who lived all the way over the sea in the United States of America. Alice-Miranda thought that was marvellous and asked if she had been to visit them and see the Grand Canyon and the Empire State Building and
all the other amazing things America has to offer.

Mrs Smith shook her head and whispered sadly that she hadn't ever been.

‘Why not?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘Well, there'd be no one to cook Miss Grimm's dinners then, would there?' Mrs Smith mumbled.

‘I'm sure we could find someone to step in, just for a little while,' said Alice-Miranda.

Mrs Smith fiddled with the pocket on the front of her apron. ‘I did ask once, a long time ago, and I was told that if I needed to take a holiday then I should make it a permanent one.' Her voice quivered as she spoke.

‘That's terrible.' Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘I'll speak with Miss Grimm right away.' She stood up and headed for the door, but after a moment she turned back and faced Cook. ‘Mrs Smith, holidays are very important. Everyone needs to have one sometime or another. I think Miss Grimm's being a little bit selfish.'

Mrs Smith stood with her mouth open as this tiny girl with cascading chocolate curls marched off into the garden. She felt a tickle around her mouth and realised that she was doing something she hadn't done in years. She was smiling.

On her way to see Miss Grimm, Alice-Miranda passed by a large greenhouse. From inside, she heard the sound of shattering glass and a man's angry voice.

‘Oh, blast it all!' he bellowed.

Alice-Miranda walked straight to the greenhouse door and pushed it open. A giant of a man stood in front of a workbench, muttering to himself and shaking his fist. There was a little pile of glass on the floor at his feet.

‘Good morning, sir,' she said, and took herself
inside. ‘My name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I've just arrived this morning.'

The man looked at Alice-Miranda in surprise, but said nothing.

Suddenly Alice-Miranda rushed to the far corner of the greenhouse. ‘That's the most beautiful
Cypripedium parviflorum
I have ever seen. Last year Mummy and Daddy took me to India and we stayed with Prince Shivaji and he had a beautiful greenhouse with loads of orchids – but there was nothing to compare with this Lady's Slipper Orchid of yours. It's truly amazing. You must be the best gardener in the whole world, Mr …'

Alice-Miranda walked back towards him and held out her hand.

He took her tiny fingers into his large paw and gulped. ‘Charlie,' he whispered hoarsely. ‘The girls call me Charlie.'

‘Well, that won't do at all.' Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘I will call you Mr Charles. Anyone who grows such extraordinary flowers deserves more respect. Now Mr Charles, I see that you have a kettle on that little stove in the corner. Shall I make you a cup of tea and then you can tell me what it is that upset you so?'

Charlie nodded slowly. He picked up a dustpan and broom from the back of the bench and began to sweep up the glass at his feet.

Alice-Miranda quickly found some tea for the pot, boiled the kettle and made him the most delicious cup of tea he'd had in ages.

‘Now Mr Charles, I know that it's most annoying when you break something but surely that's not why you're so dreadfully cross?' Alice-Miranda smiled kindly.

Charlie looked up. He wasn't a very old man but years of working outdoors had rewarded him with deep lines running the length of his cheeks. His eyes, the colour of cornflowers, seemed to have lost their sparkle.

He began quietly. ‘Well, miss, it's the flowers. I want to plant flowers and Miss Grimm, she don't like flowers. The place just looks sad without them.' Charlie stared down into his cup. ‘My dear old dad would turn in his grave knowing the state of this place.'

He could hardly believe that this slip of a girl had come along and made him tea, let alone that he was telling her his problems.

‘Why would your father be upset?' asked Alice-Miranda.

‘He was the gardener here for nigh on forty years before me. It looked a lot different back then, I can tell you.'

Alice-Miranda thought for a moment. ‘Surely it must only be
some
flowers,' she decided. ‘Take, for example, dahlias. My mummy doesn't like them at all. By themselves they're quite lovely but planted en masse she says that they look like a reef of sea anemones – much better left in the ocean than in the garden.'

‘I think it's all flowers Miss Grimm hates,' Charlie replied.

Alice-Miranda sipped her tea. ‘You know, I think she must be allergic. That's got to be it. And surely it's impossible to be allergic to
all
flowers.'

Alice-Miranda leapt up and placed her teacup in the sink. She had decided to tell Miss Grimm about poor Mr Charles and his flowers at once. After all, she thought, flowers were one of the joys of life – everyone needed flowers and surely there were loads of blooms that wouldn't offend her sinuses. Alice-Miranda turned and hesitated at the door.

‘You know, Mr Charles, Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale seems wonderful, but I can't help
feeling that there's something missing. I just can't work it out. Do you know what it is?'

Charlie shook his head. ‘Can't think of a thing, lass. This school has everything and more.'

Alice-Miranda said goodbye to Charlie and skipped through the greenhouse door. As she left, he felt a tingling on his tongue and a tickle on his lips. His face crumpled and his mouth suddenly turned upwards. For the first time in years he found himself laughing.

Passing by the gymnasium, Alice-Miranda heard a piercing scream. She ran towards the open door and saw a young girl, about eleven years of age, sitting on the floor and squealing with the might of ten elephants.

‘Hello.' Alice-Miranda sat down beside the girl. ‘My name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I've just come today.

‘Who cares?' the girl spat. ‘Leave me alone!'

‘But you're upset.' Alice-Miranda reached out and patted the girl gently on the arm.

‘Don't touch me!' she yelled and started screaming again at the top of her lungs.

Alice-Miranda blocked her ears. ‘I wish you wouldn't do that. It's ever so loud.'

Then the girl did the most extraordinary thing. She jumped up and ran down the gym mats, tumbling and twirling.

‘My goodness!' exclaimed Alice-Miranda. ‘You're the best tumbler I have ever seen. Mummy and Daddy once took me to meet a Russian Count and we went to a big party and there were tumblers there, but you are much better than they were.'

The girl took off again, tumbling backwards over and over.

Alice-Miranda clapped and cheered.

The girl stopped. She strode over to where Alice-Miranda was sitting and stood in front of her.

‘My name is Jacinta Headlington-Bear and nobody likes me,' she declared with her hands firmly on her hips.

‘Well, I can't understand why. You are simply the cleverest gymnast,' said Alice-Miranda. ‘Why don't you tell me what's the matter?'

‘Miss Grimm won't let me go to the championships. She says that unless I do my homework I can't represent the school.'

‘That's awfully sad,' said Alice-Miranda. ‘How much homework have you missed?'

‘That's just it. It's only one assignment and I was so ill that I was in the infirmary for almost the whole of the term break. I haven't had a holiday at all because my parents were too busy to come and get me. I think it was just an excuse so Mummy could stay in Bordeaux with her friends while Daddy was away on business. I've been trying to catch up but the championships are on in two weeks and I just can't train and get the stupid project done too.'

‘What's your assignment about?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘The endangered African elephant,' Jacinta pouted in reply. ‘What would I know about silly old elephants?'

‘I can help you,' Alice-Miranda offered. ‘Last year Mummy and Daddy took me on a safari and we got to see the elephants right up close. I have some wonderful photographs.'

Jacinta looked as though she'd eaten a bee. None of the other students had ever been so kind to her
before – mainly because she was the school's second best tantrum thrower and the other girls were scared stiff of having to endure a screaming fit like the one Alice-Miranda had just seen.

Alice-Miranda said that she would go at once to talk to Miss Grimm about the homework, and that Jacinta should meet her at midday and she would help her get it all finished.

Jacinta sat on the mats. She felt a tickly buzz around the corners of her mouth. Anyone who didn't know her would have sworn she almost smiled.