Alice-Miranda at Camp 10

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Alice-Miranda at Camp 10 Page 19

by Jacqueline Harvey


  Hugh scanned the first two pages. It was a full confession as well as Donald’s wishes that all of the paintings be returned to the galleries from which they’d been stolen.

  Hugh sucked air between his teeth. ‘This is a revelation.’

  Donald stared at his daughter. His seawater-green eyes clouded over. ‘I’m sorry, Fen. Is your mum home yet? School’s out early again.’

  Alice-Miranda looked at the man in confusion.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I’ll pack Dad’s things tonight,’ said Fenella, fighting back tears. ‘He’ll be charged, of course.’

  Hugh shook his head. ‘Please don’t do that. Your father has a home here for as long as he wants one.’

  Alice-Miranda rushed over to her father and threw her arms around his waist. ‘Thank you, Daddy.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ Fenella breathed. ‘Thank you, Mr Kennington-Jones.’ She turned to her father. ‘Come on, Dad. I’ll get you upstairs and you can have a lie down.’

  Mr Plumpton looked at his watch and cleared his throat. ‘Right. Well, I’m sure that by now Mr Lipp has lost his mind over you lot going missing from the choir. Perhaps we should get back outside and try to enjoy the rest of the afternoon? Queen Georgiana will be coming shortly so, Miss Reedy, you’ll need some time to get the rest of those awards sorted.’

  Miss Reedy nodded, and Alice-Miranda and her father led the group out of the cellar.

  ‘Still here,’ Jezza moaned.

  ‘Don’t worry, old chap. Someone will be back to get you soon,’ said Ed. He closed the cellar door and turned the key in the lock.

  As expected, Harold Lipp exploded like a firecracker when he saw the children and adults appear. ‘Where have you lot been?’

  Miss Reedy glowered at him. ‘They have been with us. And any further information is on a need-to-know basis. You don’t need to know.’

  ‘What?’ Harold huffed.

  ‘Sorry, Mr Lipp,’ Alice-Miranda apologised. ‘But we’re here now and I think Aunty Gee is on her way.’

  The whump of a helicopter rotor had indeed filled the air.

  ‘Places everyone. Don’t let me down. Thank heavens for Caprice. She’s been my saving grace this afternoon.’ He beamed at the child and wrinkled his lip at the others.

  But Caprice was annoyed. It didn’t look as if Alice-Miranda and her friends were in trouble at all.

  The rest of the students, residents and guests jammed into the marquee to await Her Majesty’s arrival.

  There was a collective gasp and spontaneous round of applause as Queen Georgiana entered the tea marquee flanked by her personal bodyguard, Dalton, and her lady-in-waiting, Mrs Marmalade.

  ‘Hello everyone,’ the Queen called. ‘How lovely to be here. I trust you’re having a wonderful day.’

  ‘Hello Aunty Gee.’ Cecelia rushed forward and gave the woman a hug.

  Her Majesty studied her god-daughter’s face. ‘Are you all right, darling?’

  ‘I’ll tell you all about it in a moment. I think the children are going to perform for you first.’

  ‘Oh, lovely.’ Aunty Gee looked up at the choir and smiled. Alice-Miranda and Millie were standing front and centre. She gave them a wave. ‘Hello darlings.’

  Matron Bright approached and nervously directed the Queen to her seat at the ornately decorated table closest to the stage.

  Mr Trout glanced at Mr Lipp, who held his hands aloft ready to start. Mr Trout began his extravagant introduction on the keyboard and Caprice’s angelic voice rang out.

  ‘Oh my goodness, she’s a talent,’ Mr Mobbs said loudly.

  ‘What? I can’t hear anything,’ yelled Mr Johnson.

  ‘Turn up your hearing aid, you silly old coot.’ Mr Mobbs made a twisting motion near his ear.

  The children joined in with the chorus and finished their first song to a rousing ovation.

  After five more tunes they completed their set and Caprice stepped forward to take a bow.

  Miss Grimm walked towards the stage and spotted Miss Reedy off to the side.

  ‘Has it all gone well?’ Miss Grimm whispered pointedly. She was wondering why she hadn’t been able to find Miss Reedy earlier.

  ‘Let’s just say we had an unexpected adventure,’ the English teacher murmured back. She handed the headmistress a sheet of paper. ‘These are the Queen’s Blue recipients and the winner of the medal.’

  ‘This is a surprise,’ Miss Grimm remarked as she scanned the page and approached the microphone. The choir was still standing in their position on stage.

  Caprice had been listening to the teachers’ conversation, her heart pounding. She was about to receive a medal from the Queen herself.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Lipp and the Winchester-Fayle Singers. That was a truly delightful performance. Stunning,’ Miss Grimm began, and led another round of applause. ‘Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Ophelia Grimm and I am the headmistress of Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale Academy for Proper Young Ladies. On behalf of Professor Winterbottom at Fayle School for Boys and myself, I would like to thank the staff and residents of Bagley Hall and Pelham Park for being part of our camp week. Some of you may not be aware that we have been trialling a new youth-award system for Her Majesty. From all reports it’s been a wonderful experience and one that our students won’t soon forget. So may I invite Queen Georgiana to the stage to announce the names of the students who will receive the newly founded award, the Queen’s Blue, which is the first level of a broader scheme called the Queen’s Colours.’

  Queen Georgiana approached the stage.

  ‘Oh, I told you I liked her,’ Mr Mobbs said. ‘That’s a good-looking woman.’

  Mrs Marmalade turned and scowled.

  Queen Georgiana thanked a raft of people before she looked down at the awards list. Her forehead creased and she looked up at the teachers. ‘Do you mean to tell me …?’

  Miss Reedy nodded.

  ‘Good heavens! Well, my life has just been made very easy.’ Queen Georgiana grinned. ‘There’s no need to read a long list of names … every single child has achieved their Blue. Well done to all of you.’

  A cheer went up from the children. Millie looked at Alice-Miranda. Both girls were stunned. They were sure they’d missed out after all the disasters they’d had.

  Caprice was far less impressed. ‘What? But that’s impossible. Alice-Miranda messed up lots of things.’

  Miss Reedy glared at the girl from the side of the stage.

  Queen Georgiana’s eyes flicked to Caprice for a split second, and then she spoke again. ‘I do, however, have the honour of reading one name. The winner of the Queen’s Medal for outstanding all-round qualities is …’ She paused for effect.

  Caprice was listening. She closed her eyes and heard her name. ‘Me!’ she yelled and stepped forward.

  ‘Not unless your name is Septimus Sykes, dear,’ Queen Georgiana announced.

  Caprice looked set to erupt. ‘What? It can’t be him!’

  Sep strode over to Her Majesty.

  There was a loud cheer from the other students as the boy shook Queen Georgiana’s hand.

  ‘This is not happening!’ Caprice screamed. ‘That’s my medal. I earned it. You don’t know what I had to make Millie do to stop her from winning it.’ She pointed at Alice-Miranda. ‘Give me that medal!’ Caprice rushed at Sep and snatched the award from the boy’s hand.

  ‘Excuse me, young lady.’ Queen Georgiana promptly snatched it back, then turned to Miss Reedy and Miss Grimm. ‘Perhaps you might like to rethink the awarding of a complete set of Blues?’

  ‘Caprice, sit down now,’ the English teacher barked at the child.

  ‘She might sing like an angel and look like one too, but that’s where the resemblance stops,’ Mr Mobbs called out.

  Queen Georgiana arched her eyebrow. ‘I quite agree.’

  Caprice stormed off the stage and stomped out of the marquee.

  Mr Lipp ran after her. ‘Caprice, come back. We know you didn’t mean it …


  Mr Plumpton and Miss Reedy stared at each other, goggle-eyed. It seemed that Caprice had saved her most impressive performance until the very end.

  ‘Oh dear, I think I owe Millie an apology,’ Mr Plumpton whispered. ‘And Alice-Miranda.’

  Miss Reedy nodded. ‘Yes, me too.’

  Alice-Miranda and Millie looked at each other. They hadn’t needed to do a thing about Caprice Radford. She had brought herself well and truly unstuck.

  Millie squeezed Alice-Miranda’s hand. ‘Well, that was a surprise.’

  ‘I think there’s been a few of those today.’ Alice-Miranda grinned and squeezed Millie’s hand right back.

  Donald Freeman had indeed been Henry Kennington-Jones’s best friend. One dreary winter’s afternoon Henry, or Harry, as he was then known, had convinced Donald to go shooting with him. They were after pheasant or rabbits but Henry had terrible aim. After one particularly wild shot, the boys heard a sickening thud. They ran towards the sound and found Henry’s father’s prize stallion dead. Henry handed Donald the gun just as the young stablehand arrived to bring the beast in for the night.

  Henry ran and left Donald holding the evidence. The boy was blamed for the horse’s death and his father was dismissed from Pelham Park. But worse was still to come. Donald was sent to a home for delinquent boys. He never got over being blamed for a crime he didn’t commit. As far as Donald knew, rich people could do anything and get away with it. Donald’s love of art blossomed a few years later when, to appease his guilt, Henry had sent the young man an artwork from the house with a note instructing him to sell it and make a better life for himself.

  Donald fell in love with the picture, a Turner. But in the end he sold it on the black market to fund his studies. He always hoped he’d get it back again one day but he didn’t know how. When one of his clients couldn’t pay a bill, he offered him an artwork instead. It was that very same Turner that came back to him. Over the years Donald received more stolen works and stored them in the cellars at Highton Hall, knowing that if they were found, the blame would fall on Henry Kennington-Jones. It seemed only fair.

  Fenella had no choice but to charge Donald with receiving stolen goods. He was placed on a lengthy good behaviour bond. Hugh Kennington-Jones vouched for the man, just as he had promised. The judge considered Donald’s age and state of mind and decided that a stint in prison was not in anyone’s best interests.

  The artworks were returned to their owners, including Ed Clifton’s painting, which went back to its home at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. It was a mere coincidence that Addison Goldsworthy had received that painting last of all.

  Nigel and Jezza were charged with theft and numerous other crimes. They confessed all, which turned out to be a far bigger case than the one against Donald Freeman. The night before the fair, just as they were depositing Ed Clifton’s stolen painting, they’d received instructions to remove everything from the vault the next day and meet a ship that was sailing for Russia. Addison Goldsworthy had done the biggest deal of his life with a treacherous oligarch called Boris Karlovsky, but instead of receiving a fortune he earned himself several more years in prison.

  Fenella was promoted, however, she requested her transfer be put on hold for a little while so she could stay close to her ailing father.

  Ed Clifton made peace with Pelham Park and her ghosts. He visited his parents’ grave and laid flowers for his mother. He thought that next time he came home, he might stay at Highton Hall instead – surely he’d have a quieter time there.

  Caprice Radford lost her Queen’s Blue. Miss Grimm met with her parents and, despite Caprice throwing the most enormous tantrum and demanding to be expelled, the adults decided that she should stay on at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale. Her parents couldn’t have been more grateful to Miss Grimm for keeping her at the school. Miss Reedy questioned Millie and Alice-Miranda but neither girl said anything about Caprice’s manipulations. They had both decided not to make her life any harder than it was set to become. Caprice was in enough trouble as it was.

  Apart from a few pieces that Hugh and Ed kept for themselves, the rest of Arabella Kennington-Jones’s art collection was sold off. The money would ensure Pelham Park would exist for a very long time to come.

  Aunty Gee was thrilled to roll out her Queen’s Colours program around the country and had already started devising the next level. She thought Plum had a nice ring to it.

  The Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones family

  Cecelia Highton-Smith

  Alice-Miranda’s mother

  Hugh Kennington-Jones

  Alice-Miranda’s father

  Ed Clifton

  Hugh’s brother

  Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale Academy for Proper Young Ladies staff

  Miss Ophelia Grimm

  Headmistress

  Aldous Grump

  Miss Grimm’s husband

  Mrs Louella Derby

  Personal Secretary to the headmistress

  Miss Livinia Reedy

  English teacher

  Mr Josiah Plumpton

  Science teacher

  Miss Benitha Wall

  PE teacher

  Howie (Mrs Howard)

  Housemistress

  Shaker (Mrs Shakeshaft)

  Assistant housemistress

  Mr Cornelius Trout

  Music teacher

  Mrs Doreen Smith

  Cook

  Charlie Weatherly (Mr Charles)

  Gardener

  Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale students

  Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones

  Millicent Jane McLoughlin-McTavish-McNoughton-McGill

  Alice-Miranda’s best friend and room mate

  Jacinta Headlington-Bear

  Friend

  Sloane Sykes

  Friend

  Caprice Radford

  New student

  Susannah Dare, Danika Rigby, Shelby Shore

  Friends

  Fayle School for Boys staff and students

  Professor Winterbottom

  Headmaster

  Mr Harold Lipp

  English and Drama teacher

  Septimus Sykes

  A student and Sloane Sykes’s brother

  Lucas Nixon, George ‘Figgy’ Figworth, Rufus Pemberley

  Students

  Other

  Matron Bright

  Manages Pelham Park aged care home

  Donald Freeman

  Resident of Pelham Park

  Detective Sergeant Fenella Freeman

  Local police officer and daughter of Donald Freeman

  Beth, Lionel

  Instructors at Bagley Hall camp

  Jezza, Nigel

  Criminals

  Check out the newest Alice-Miranda adventure:

  ALICE-MIRANDA AT THE PALACE

  Available February 2015

  Read on for a sample chapter!

  A man in a bowler hat and charcoal overcoat dashed out of the alley and through the pounding rain. Just as he did so, a sleek black car pulled up to the kerb. He glanced left and right, then quickly folded his umbrella and jumped into the passenger seat.

  The driver gave a swift nod. ‘Good evening, Sir.’

  ‘I’d hardly call it that, old chap,’ the passenger replied, brushing the droplets of water from his shoulders.

  The windscreen wipers swiped at the deluge as the driver checked his side mirror and pulled out into the deserted street. Without a word, he handed the passenger a manila folder.

  The man scanned the contents, a row of frown lines settling on his forehead. ‘Why her?’ he asked. ‘She’s not a relative.’

  ‘No, but she makes perfect sense. Rich parents, adored by all and apparently just about the sweetest child you’ll ever meet. She’s a natural target.’

  ‘Do you think this is enough to force Her Majesty’s hand?’ the passenger asked.

  ‘That, and this.’ The driver passed the man a plastic sleeve con
taining a single document. ‘Everything we need is there.’

  The passenger nodded. ‘So it’s true, then?’

  ‘Yes. It was never witnessed and countersigned. It should never have been her and it most certainly won’t be him.’

  ‘How did you get this, or do I not want to know?’

  ‘I have someone on the inside. Very reliable and even more ambitious,’ the driver replied.

  ‘It’s not the original, is it?’

  ‘Heavens, no. But don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll have it when we need it.’ The driver slowed down as the traffic lights ahead turned red.

  ‘When do we begin?’

  ‘The first letter will arrive tomorrow, then there’s no going back.’ The driver swallowed hard. ‘Are you ready?’

  ‘Since I was fifteen years old,’ the man in the bowler hat said.

  ‘Very good, Sir.’ The driver pulled up outside a row of Georgian townhouses.

  The passenger shook the other man’s hand. ‘No going back,’ he said firmly and opened the car door. The man popped up his umbrella and scurried away towards the yellow glow of a porch light.

  ‘Ooh, she gives me the creeps,’ Millie whispered, glancing at the new teacher sitting at the end of their row. The tall woman with a pixie hairdo, dressed in a sensible beige pants-suit, looked up just at that moment and their eyes met. Startled, the child quickly turned back to the front.

 

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