Alice-Miranda At School (20 page)

Apple filling

4–6 large Granny Smith apples

Tiny amount of water to cover the bottom of the saucepan

3–4 cloves

2 tablespoons of sugar

Pastry

60 grams butter

5 tablespoons milk

2 cups of self raising flour

Apple filling

• Pre-heat oven to 190°C
  
• Peel and slice the apples carefully – you don't want any apple skin in the pie (it's just not nice)
  
• Place the sliced apples, cloves, water and sugar in a saucepan
  
• Bring to the boil and simmer for 10 minutes or until tender
  

Pastry

• Melt the butter and milk together over low heat
  
• Add enough flour to make a stiff dough – this can be a little tricky
  
• Divide the mixture in half and roll out both sections separately on greaseproof paper to make the top and bottom of the pie crust
  
• Place one piece of pastry into a pie plate – make sure that it comes up the sides
  
• Spoon the apple mixture into the pie plate (take out the cloves first – they taste really yucky if you leave them in and accidentally eat one – believe me!)
  
• Place the other piece of pastry on top to make a lid. Make sure that it fits well – I like to get my fingers in and press it down around the edges
  
• Use the leftover pastry to make a criss-cross pattern with little balls on the top. Be creative – this is a really fun bit!
  
• Brush a small amount of milk on the lid and sprinkle some sugar over the top (just a little bit)
  
• Bake the pie for 20–25 minutes
  
• Serve hot with ice cream or cream (or both!)
  
• Eat and enjoy!
  

Read on for a sample of
Alice-Miranda on Holiday

 

Prologue

 

 

‘Oh my dear man, you're too kind.' Granny Bert blushed, her cheeks matching the colour of her rose-pink teacup.

‘No, Mrs Rumble, it is
you
who is too kind. I've so much to do and so little time – your help is humbly appreciated.' The visitor loaded his cake fork with a mouthful of passionfruit sponge.

‘Please, call me Albertine,' Granny insisted as she admired the cut of his pinstriped suit.

The small sitting room, already bulging with antique furniture, seemed to overflow with the man's presence.

‘Albertine it is, then,' he began. He studied the set of faded plans in front of them. ‘Now, what can you tell me? I want to know
all
the secrets.'

As Granny began to reveal the mysteries of Highton Hall, she failed to notice the sickly smile that had spread across her guest's handsome face.

Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones said goodbye to her friends on the steps of Winchesterfield Manor.

‘Please try to be brave, Mrs Smith.' She wrapped her arms around the cook's waist.

‘Dear girl.' Mrs Smith sniffled into her tissue, then fished around in her apron pocket to retrieve a small parcel wrapped in greaseproof paper. ‘Some brownies for the drive.'

‘Oh Mrs Smith, my favourites! You really are
the best brownie cook in the whole world. I'll share them with Mummy and Jacinta. You know, I was thinking you should make them for Kennington's. I'm sure we'd sell kazillions. Imagine: “Mrs Smith's Scrumptious Melt-in-Your-Mouth Chocolate Brownies”.' Alice-Miranda underlined the invisible words in the air. ‘Wouldn't that be amazing – you'd be famous!'

Mrs Smith turned the colour of beetroot and shook her head. ‘Off you go,' she smiled. ‘And please tell Dolly I'm looking forward to seeing her next week.'

Alice-Miranda stepped back and moved along the line.

‘Now, you look after those flowers while I'm gone, Mr Charles,' she said, smiling up at her weathered friend. His eyes, the colour of cornflowers, sparkled in the morning sunlight and he brushed a work-worn hand across the corner of his face.

‘Ah lass, I'll have those blooms perfect by the time you get back,' he nodded.

Alice-Miranda stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his middle.

‘Off with you now,' he said and patted her shoulder.

Mr Plumpton and Miss Reedy stood side by side. His nose glowed red, while she maintained her usual dignified stance.

‘Thank you, Miss Reedy.' Alice-Miranda offered her tiny hand, which Livinia shook most vigorously. ‘I've had a wonderful term.'

‘You have a lovely break, Alice-Miranda. It's hard to believe you've been here only three months.' Miss Reedy smiled down at her youngest student. The girl was a constant source of amazement.

‘And Mr Plumpton, your science lessons have been truly fantastic. I will never in my life forget that volcano experiment. All that frothing and fizzing and then – boom!' Alice-Miranda laughed.

Mr Plumpton's forehead wrinkled. ‘That wasn't my best work, Alice-Miranda. Not quite the outcome I was expecting.' He blushed deeply from his shirt collar to the tip of his very bald head.

‘But Mr Plumpton, it was magnificent – even if it did blow rather a large hole in the ceiling and spew that icky liquid all over the lab.'

‘Yes, well, I can only imagine how the volcano's vent ended up with a cork wedged in it.' He tried not to, but couldn't help showing an embarrassed smirk.

Next in line stood Mrs Derby. Alice-Miranda was
only just getting used to Miss Higgins's new name.

‘You have a lovely holiday, sweetheart,' the young woman beamed.

‘Thank you, Miss Higgins, I mean, Mrs Derby,' Alice-Miranda corrected herself.

Mrs Derby knelt down and brushed a stray curl behind Alice-Miranda's ear. The tiny child leaned forward and threw her arms around Mrs Derby's neck.

‘Now what was that for?' she asked, as surprised as she had been the first time Alice-Miranda had offered such affection.

‘Just because I love you,' the tiny girl whispered.

At the end of the line loomed the headmistress, Miss Grimm, in a striking magenta suit. Her hair, now swept up loosely, no longer pinned her face into a pinched scowl. Today she was elegant and quite beautiful.

‘Alice-Miranda,' she barked sternly, and then as if remembering she was no longer
that
person, she cleared her throat and began again.

‘Alice-Miranda.' This time her tone was soft. ‘Thank you for your hard work this term. It has been a pleasure.' Her dark eyes smiled and her mouth curved upwards.

‘No, thank
you
, Miss Grimm. Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale Academy for Proper Young Ladies really is the most beautiful school in the whole wide world and you are the best headmistress in the world too. Even when you were, well, upset and angry pretty much all of the time, I knew that wasn't really you. You were far too stylish and lovely to be as mean as all that.' Alice-Miranda stopped suddenly.

Miss Grimm's eyes narrowed.

‘What I meant to say, Miss Grimm, is that I knew it wasn't the real you; the one who spied on us and never came out to see the girls and the staff and wouldn't let Mrs Smith take holidays or Mr Charles plant flowers, or Jacinta go to the gymnastics championships –'

‘Stop!' Miss Grimm held up her hand.

‘But Miss Grimm, what I really meant to say –'

‘Enough,' Miss Grimm cut her off again, her steely eyes threatening. ‘No more. Do not say another word, Alice-Miranda.'

Suddenly Ophelia's face crumpled and she found herself smiling at this infernal child with her cascading chocolate curls. She bent down to meet Alice-Miranda's brown-eyed gaze.

‘Now, Miss Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones,
as your headmistress I am commanding that during this term break you must assure me that you will under no circumstances spend time studying for ridiculous academic tests, nor will you set off on any wilderness walks on your own and you most
definitely
will not train for onerous physical challenges. After what I put you through at the beginning of the term, I expect nothing less than three weeks of purely childish pursuits befitting that of a girl aged seven and one-quarter.'

‘Oh dear, I am sorry, Miss Grimm, but I can't guarantee any of those things,' Alice-Miranda whispered.

‘And why ever not, young lady?' Miss Grimm snapped.

‘Because, Miss Grimm, I'm actually now seven and a half,' Alice-Miranda beamed.

Before she knew what she was doing, Ophelia Grimm leaned forward and hugged Alice-Miranda tightly.

‘Thank you, Miss Grimm.' Alice-Miranda hugged her right back. ‘And you and Mr Grump enjoy your honeymoon, too. Goodness knows you've waited long enough for it.'

Now it was Ophelia's turn to blush.

Alice-Miranda ran toward her mother's shiny silver car parked at the bottom of the steps.

‘Come on, darling, time to go home,' said Cecelia Highton-Smith, dabbing a tissue to her eyes.

‘Hurry up, Alice-Miranda,' Jacinta called from the back seat. ‘Bye everyone,' she shouted, waving furiously.

The staff could hardly believe just how much things had changed in the eleven weeks Alice-Miranda had been at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale. And who would have thought that Jacinta Headlington-Bear – the school's former second best tantrum thrower – would ever be invited home for term break?

Having been a teacher for such a big part of my life, Alice-Miranda is so many children I have adored. Children who have made me laugh and cry and who have continually surprised and inspired me with their determination, their humility, generosity and humour.

Alice-Miranda and I couldn't have made this journey alone – there are many people who have supported and encouraged me along the way. And so to them I say thank you.

My most ardent supporter, my husband Ian, has been known to laugh, particularly when I am pulling faces trying to imagine what something
looks like in words, but he never tires of listening and reading – and in the process very often comes up with wonderful ideas to add to the story. He is the reason I am able to do what I do because above all else he believes in me – even when I don't. He knows I think he's amazing – and now everyone else who's read this does too!

I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my amazing publisher at Random House, Linsay Knight. Her professionalism and friendship are greatly valued and I thank her for loving Alice-Miranda. Thank you too, to Kimberley Bennett, my editor – who has been an absolute joy to work with. Kimberley has challenged me to be a better writer – something I have yearned for and will continue to in the future. I look forward to many more adventures together.

Thank you to Nerrilee Weir, clearly the cleverest Rights Manager in Australia and to Catherine Drayton at Inkwell Management, for helping Alice-Miranda get her passport to the United States (and beyond!).

To my dear friend Sandy Campbell, who in the midst of her epic battle, sat up all night and read
Alice-Miranda
. It was Sandy who wrote an email to Linsay recommending the story. Although Sandy is not here to see Alice-Miranda on her journey, I feel
she is certainly with us in spirit, with the warmest of hugs, and yummiest of scones, cheering us on. I miss her very much.

To my mother, Jennifer, and beloved grandmothers, Betty Earnell and Edna Jones (the real Nana Jones), thank you for passing on your wonderful recipes and teaching me how to cook.

To my sisters and brother-in-law, Sarah, Natalie and Trent, thank you for listening to all my harebrained ideas and reading manuscripts in record time. And to Darcy and Flynn, well, thank you for being you – you inspire me and I love you both to bits!

To my Poppy and Grandad, Norman and Colin, my dad, Gary, stepdaughter, Olivia, and my mother- and father-in-law, John and Joan – the best cheer squad I could have hoped for. I know John would be very proud to see Alice-Miranda making her way in the world.

And lastly a huge thank you to the staff, students and parents at Abbotsleigh, who have given me loads of encouragement and support. It is a joy to share stories with the girls and I love that they are so honest in telling me what they really think, especially when a response is prefaced with, ‘Well you know, Mrs Harvey, I really like you, it's just that …'