Alice-Miranda to the Rescue (13 page)

As the girls headed across the quadrangle towards the dining room, the door to the headmistress's flat opened. A ball of caramel fur scampered out, dashing into the garden and nipping at the flowers. Ophelia Grimm and her husband followed the pup.

‘Hello Miss Grimm, Mr Grump!' Alice-Miranda called. ‘We've finished delivering the flyers and there are posters all over the village.'

Sloane ran to play with the puppy, who was now
charging at the flower heads and barking at his own shadow.

Miss Grimm smiled. ‘Well done, girls. I wonder if anyone will come forward.'

‘I saw a young man outside Mr Munz's shop and he seemed to take quite a bit of notice of the sign, but when I asked if he knew who might own the puppy, he said no,' Alice-Miranda told them. ‘We also bumped into the Chairman of Chudleigh's. He's a very nice man called Major Foxley.'

Sloane picked up the puppy and cuddled him close as she walked back to join the group. ‘We should give him a name,' she said, giggling as he licked her nose and cheeks.

Aldous Grump grinned at the girl. ‘I've been saying that too.'

‘Aldy, I've told you we can't name him because it will make it that much harder when his owner is found,' his wife scolded.

‘If he does have to go, do you think we might be able to get a school dog, anyway?' Alice-Miranda asked.

Mr Grump was nodding his head at a great rate behind his wife, who was being much more coy.

‘Well, perhaps we can think about it. It's just not a pet for term time, though. We'd have to work out
who could look after the animal during the holidays as people often want to get away,' the woman said.

‘Ophelia, there is always someone here,' her husband reasoned. ‘Besides, you can play tough all you like, but I know you're hoping we get to keep him. You should have seen the pair of them curled up together on the lounge last night. It was adorable.'

She shot the man a reproachful look as Sloane gathered the creature into her arms. The pup wriggled around and pressed his wet nose against her cheek.

‘It's true, Miss Grimm. He loves you,' Sloane said. ‘Who'd have thought?'

‘Excuse me, young lady,' the headmistress said, feigning offence.

‘She's right, you know.' Mr Grump wrapped his arms around his wife and planted a kiss on her cheek.

The woman blushed a bright shade of red. ‘Aldous, not in front of the children.'

‘Yeah, we don't need any PDA around here,' Sloane said, looking green.

‘PDA?' Miss Grimm frowned. ‘What's that?'

Sloane and Mr Grump pulled faces at each other. ‘Public displays of affection,' the pair said in unison. ‘Snap!'

Ophelia laughed and shook her head, just as Miss Reedy and Mr Plumpton came out of the dining room on the other side of the courtyard. The woman was walking beside her fiancé, gesticulating wildly, and her face looked set to explode. The pair seemed completely oblivious to everyone else.

‘Josiah, you promised me that you'd have your suit fitted this afternoon,' Miss Reedy fumed. ‘We've only got a week until the wedding! What if you can't get your buttons done up on the day?'

‘Livinia, darling, please calm down,' the man implored. ‘I've made an appointment with the tailor for Monday afternoon. I wanted to help you today.'

‘We have our staff meeting on Monday afternoon. Did you think of that? You didn't, did you?' she snapped. ‘And we
still
have to choose the toppers for the cake. I asked you what you wanted last week and you
still
haven't told me. Why is this all up to me? It's not fair,' the woman said, her face beginning to crumple.

‘Sweetheart, let me make you a cup of tea and we can talk about it then.' Mr Plumpton touched her shoulder.

‘I don't want tea!' she yelled at him. ‘I want a blinking decision!'

Livinia turned on her heel and stormed away, with her fiancé running double-time to catch up to her.

Mr Grump grimaced. ‘Looks like there's trouble in paradise.'

‘I think Miss Reedy must be a little bit stressed about the wedding,' Alice-Miranda said.

Ophelia Grimm sighed. ‘Oh dear, and I haven't helped. I feel awful that I didn't realise the weekends were one and the same when I was roped into the dog show. I'll have a quiet word and see if there's anything I can do.'

‘I'd stay right away at the moment, Ophelia,' her husband advised. ‘A bolshy bride can be downright dangerous.'

Sloane giggled. ‘Millie was right.'

‘About what?' Mr Grump looked at the girl quizzically.

‘She said that Miss Reedy was going to turn into a bridezilla,' Sloane said. ‘And there the monster goes.'

Millie sighed happily as she helped Jacinta set the long table under the wisteria-covered pergola in Ambrosia's back garden. She was pleased to have escaped the prospect of being stuck at the house with Caprice all night. ‘How was training?' she asked.

Jacinta looked up from counting out the knives and forks. ‘It was better. Maybe I'm not as bad as I thought.'

‘Of course you're not,' Millie said. ‘You can't give up now. We're all banking on you winning a gold medal at the Olympics.'

‘As if,' Jacinta chuckled. She began to lay the cutlery for each place setting. ‘Did you have to spend much time with Caprice today?'

‘No, she was carting poop,' Millie said triumphantly, ‘and tomorrow she's going to be doing it again when she fertilises the new vegetable patch.'

Jacinta grinned. ‘She must be hating that.'

‘Let's just say she hasn't been very talkative,' Millie replied. ‘I'm glad that she's got a proper punishment for a change.'

Alice-Miranda was in the kitchen chopping cucumbers for the salad when the doorbell rang. ‘I'll get it,' she called out, and wiped her hands on a tea towel before scurrying to the front door. She opened it to find Sep and Lucas on the porch. ‘Hello, did you just walk over from school?'

‘Yeah, sorry we're a bit late,' Lucas said as he and Sep followed Alice-Miranda to the back garden. ‘The professor was going on about the dog show and we had to have a meeting about how we're going to help out.'

Ambrosia met them outside. With her blow-dried hair and immaculately made-up face, she could easily have graced the pages of
Gloss and Goss
. The house looked stunning, too, with its white-on-white accents and elegant furniture. In the pretty cottage garden, a border of purple salvias and verbena was still in bloom among the otherwise autumnal hues. A huge vase of pink peonies sat in the middle of the long white table.

‘Oh, hello you two,' Ambrosia said, smiling at the pair. ‘Thanks for coming.'

‘Thanks for inviting us,' Lucas replied. He grinned at Jacinta, who was putting the finishing touches to the table settings. The girl looked up and melted. ‘I'm really looking forward to a steak. Our cook only knows two recipes – mystery meat hotpot and sock pudding.'

Millie laughed. ‘Sock pudding? It can't be that bad.'

‘We'd happily trade old Sizzler for Mrs Smith any day,' Lucas said.

‘Why do you call her Sizzler?' Jacinta asked. ‘Is she hot or something?'

Lucas and Sep looked at each other and gagged. ‘Hot?' Sep exclaimed. ‘No, she's something – and that would be about one hundred.'

‘We call her Sizzler because she burns everything,' Lucas explained. ‘Even water.'

‘Well, you can't have Mrs Smith,' Millie said. ‘She's been really good ever since she and Mrs Oliver became besties and Dolly taught her how to cook. She even tried this ridiculously difficult chocolate gateau the other day for Ella's birthday and it was amazing.'

‘Who wants to help me get the plates?' Jacinta asked.

‘I will,' Lucas volunteered, and followed the girl inside.

‘They're so cute,' Sloane giggled.

‘They're just friends,' Sep said. ‘They're way too young for anything serious.'

Millie smiled. ‘I don't know. I predict we'll be going to their wedding in about ten years' time.'

The doorbell rang again. This time Ambrosia rushed off to answer it while Millie and Sep scraped the barbecue hotplate, and Alice-Miranda carried the salad and cheese platter outside.

Ambrosia led their guests of honour through the double doors at the back of the house. A blonde-haired woman in a pair of flared jeans with sky-high white heels and a white peasant-style blouse blanched at the sight of the six youngsters. ‘Are they
all
yours?'
she asked. She was carrying a small poodle with a long fringe, which flicked out perfectly from her pointy snout. The dog was wearing a white trench coat.

‘Yes, all mine,' Ambrosia said, winking at the children. ‘Sextuplets.'

Jacinta rolled her eyes. ‘Mummy, that's not even funny. You couldn't deal with me until recently, let alone six of us.'

‘So they're not yours,' the woman said, visibly relieved.

‘No, this is my daughter, Jacinta, and these are her friends,' Ambrosia said, and proceeded to introduce the group. ‘Everyone, this is Mr and Mrs Dankworth.'

‘Please, we're Barry and Roberta, and this is my baby, Farrah Fawcett,' the woman said.

‘She's very sweet,' Alice-Miranda said. She reached out to pat the poodle, but the creature growled and barked at her sharply.

‘Farrah, stop that,' Roberta scolded. ‘I'm sorry. She takes a while to warm up to people, but once she knows you she'll be your friend for life. Barry, why don't you set up her highchair?'

The man nodded and produced an odd little seat from his bag. It resembled something a child might
sit on at the back of a bicycle and came complete with a harness. He attached it to the table with a series of clamps, then strapped in the dog.

‘Is her name really Farrah Fawcett?' Sep said.

Roberta looked at him in surprise. She assumed the famous starlet would have predated the boy's knowledge. ‘Do you know who that is?' she asked.

Sep nodded. ‘She's one of my dad's favourite television stars from a long time ago. She was in that show called
Charlie's Angels
and she had really flicky hair and was very pretty.'

‘Yes, you're absolutely right,' the woman replied, fluffing her own tresses. ‘And do you think she looks like anyone you know?'

The boy shrugged. ‘Your dog?'

‘I've got a picture of her on my phone,' Roberta said, passing it to the lad. ‘Now, seriously, who do you think she looks like?' The woman struck a model pose and awaited his reply.

Lucas leaned across to look. ‘Now,
she's
hot!'

Millie walked over and had a peek, then gave Sep a sharp nudge. He looked up and caught a glimpse of Mrs Dankworth preening herself and tossing her hair about. She pouted her lips and rolled her
shoulders. ‘I think,' he said tentatively, ‘that maybe she looks a lot like you, Roberta?'

Barry let out the breath he'd been holding. His wife was already wound up tighter than a yoyo string without some poor unsuspecting lad offending her.

‘Do you really think so?' Roberta said, smiling from ear to ear. ‘People tell me that all the time.' She covered Farrah's ears. ‘In fact, I think my Citrine is probably more of a Farrah lookalike but the kennel club wouldn't let me call her that.'

Millie and Sep exchanged grins. ‘You can thank me later,' Millie whispered. ‘I think she'd have thrown you on the hotplate if you didn't work it out.'

‘Can I get anyone a drink?' Ambrosia asked, getting up.

‘Oh, yes please,' Roberta said.

Barry offered to help and followed their host into the kitchen.

‘So you breed Afghan hounds, Mrs Dankworth?' Alice-Miranda said.

‘Please, call me Roberta. It sounds like you're talking to Barry's mother and, believe me, I don't ever want to be confused with that old dragon,' the woman said. She flicked her hair and admired
her long fingernails. ‘Yes, my Citrine is the current Chudleigh's Best in Show.'

‘Major Foxley told me,' the child said. ‘You must work very hard with them.'

‘Morning, noon and night, they are my number-one priority,' the woman confirmed.

Barry Dankworth emerged from the kitchen with a tray of glasses. He passed his wife a tall iced tea and walked around, offering the children a variety of coloured refreshments.

‘I'd love to meet them,' Alice-Miranda said. ‘I imagine they are incredibly beautiful.'

‘Stunning,' Roberta said, nodding. ‘I could take the six of you to have a look at the babies after supper if you like.'

‘I'd love that,' Alice-Miranda said, and the rest of the children agreed.

Roberta cut a small triangle of cheddar and held it out for Farrah. The little dog licked it and took a nibble before Roberta popped it into her own mouth.

Millie screwed up her nose and looked at Sep, who made a silent gagging motion. ‘Do you want us to put the sausages on, Ambrosia?' Millie asked.

Alarmed, Roberta turned to their host. ‘Are we just having sausages tonight?'

‘Oh no, there are some lovely fillet steaks as well,' Ambrosia said.

‘That's a relief. Farrah only eats the best quality meat,' Roberta replied.

Just as she finished saying so, there was a rustling sound and Mr Parker appeared at the side gate.

‘I don't know why we can't use the front door like every other civilised person on the planet,' Myrtle blustered from behind him.

‘Good evening, all,' Mr Parker called cheerfully, holding the gate open for his wife. Myrtle cast him an evil glare as she tottered past, clutching a giant cake box.

‘Welcome,' Ambrosia said, planting a kiss on Myrtle's cheek.

‘Sorry we're a bit late,' Reginald apologised. ‘But Myrtle –'

‘I had to finish the lemon meringue pie,' the old woman griped. ‘I hope it's edible. With everything on my plate at the moment, I just don't know what it will be like.'

‘I'm sure it will be lovely,' Ambrosia said, flashing Reg a grin.

Myrtle stalked into the house and proceeded to move everything in the refrigerator to find a spot for it.

‘Barry didn't tell me we were supposed to bring anything,' Roberta said through pursed lips.

‘We've got plenty of food,' Ambrosia reassured her. ‘Mrs Parker didn't have to bring anything, either.'

‘Really? Well, you should have told me that before I started making the pie at four o'clock after a full day of meetings,' the woman called out.

‘I did tell you, Myrtle, but you insisted, remember?' her husband reminded her.

‘Who arrives at a barbecue for this many people without making a contribution?' Myrtle said, walking out onto the patio. ‘That would be the height of rudeness.'

‘Let's get you some drinks, shall we? I think we might put the rest of the meat on. How are those sausages looking, Millie?' Ambrosia asked.

‘They're sizzling!' the girl replied. ‘A bit like the atmosphere,' she whispered to Sep, who stifled a laugh.

Alice-Miranda turned back to Mrs Dankworth. ‘Major Foxley is a lovely fellow,' she said.

‘Oh, yes, he's a darling,' Roberta said, ‘and he was overwhelmed by my facilities this afternoon, wasn't he, Barry?'

‘Yes, dear,' the man said, nodding eagerly.

Roberta glanced at Farrah, who was wriggling about in her seat. ‘Barry, she needs to go for a walk.'

Her husband immediately sprang into action. He unstrapped the dog and placed her on the ground, where she pranced like a pony across the paving stones to the grass. Once there, the poodle stood on tiptoes, trying to pick her way through the blades. She found a spot and froze, glancing back at the table.

Sloane giggled. ‘She's so cute.'

‘Please don't watch her,' Roberta said. ‘She has a shy bladder.'

‘A what?' Lucas snorted.

‘It's no laughing matter, young man. Farrah finds it very hard to do her business when she knows someone is watching,' Roberta explained.

The boy looked confused. ‘Seriously? But she's a dog. Dogs go everywhere.'

‘Well, my dog doesn't,' the woman said firmly.

‘What sort of dogs does Major Foxley have?' Alice-Miranda asked, trying to steer the conversation into more pleasant waters.

Roberta frowned, or at least she tried to. ‘I don't know. Isn't that odd? He's been around forever but I've never thought to ask what sort of dogs he has. He doesn't actually show at all himself – it's against
the rules. When Emerson Finchley died, he became the Chairman of Chudleigh's. I think they knew each other from the army but they didn't seem to like one another much from what I recall.'

‘I wonder if Major Foxley's limp is the result of a war injury,' Alice-Miranda said.

‘Oh yes, apparently he was a highly decorated hero,' Roberta replied. ‘He's getting on a bit but he's still terribly handsome.'

‘I'm going to meet Mrs Finchley tomorrow,' Alice-Miranda said.

Roberta's eyes widened. ‘Do you mean Becca Finchley? Why? Does she live around here?'

Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Yes, just near Chesterfield Downs. Major Foxley is inviting her to present the new award they've created in memory of her husband and father-in-law,' she explained.

‘Oh, how lovely, that's such an appropriate honour. Those men worked so hard for many years in our industry.' Roberta smiled and lifted her glass to her lips.

Barry Dankworth rejoined the group at the table and strapped Farrah back into her chair.

‘And Mrs Finchley's entering the show again,' Alice-Miranda added.

Roberta Dankworth made a choking noise and spat iced tea all over Ambrosia's white tablecloth, narrowly missing the top of Farrah's bouffant head. ‘She's what?!'

‘Are you all right, Mrs Dankworth?' Alice-Miranda rushed around and began to thump her sharply between the shoulderblades. She was worried the woman might have inhaled an ice cube.

Roberta coughed and sputtered until finally she took another sip and began to calm down.

‘But I'd heard that her dogs had been stolen,' Barry said quietly.

Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Major Foxley said that she had one left – her grand champion. I think he called her Siggy.'

Roberta glared at her husband.

A feeble smile spread across his face. ‘You know you've got this year in the bag, Roberta,' he whispered.

‘I'd better,' she snapped.

Alice-Miranda walked back to the other side of the table and picked up her drink. She felt bad that she'd overheard their conversation. Apparently the competition at Chudleigh's was even fiercer than she'd imagined.