‘Hello,’ Alice-Miranda said with a knowing smile.
‘My mother has taken the rest of the children to the hospital to visit my father. She thinks I’m with you, Alice-Miranda. I’m sorry, I should have checked to make sure it was okay to use you as my cover again,’ Zahra said, biting her lip.
Millie frowned. ‘What are you covering for?’
Alice-Miranda looked at Zahra. ‘Millie’s my best friend in the world. I promise she can keep a secret.’ Zahra nodded her consent and Alice-Miranda told the whole story.
‘Zahra should come with us,’ Millie said.
Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘I don’t suppose it would do any harm. You’re meant to be with me anyway.’
Zahra was intrigued. Alice-Miranda grabbed her hand and they ran along the lane to the Parkers’, where they sped up the front steps and rang the bell. Minutes later, they were greeted by Mrs Parker. She had her sleeves rolled up and was wearing an apron over the top of her lemon-coloured dress. There was a smudge of flour on the woman’s forehead and the scent of fresh baking wafted out from behind her.
‘Hello girls,’ she said, eyeing the trio. ‘This is a surprise. Zahra, does your mother know you’re here?’
The girl cast her eyes to the ground. ‘She knows that I’m with Alice-Miranda.’
‘Well, they’re in the garage,’ Myrtle said, standing aside.
‘Thanks, Mrs P,’ Millie called as the three girls scampered past the woman, down the hall and out through the kitchen doors.
‘My name is Mrs Parker, Millicent,’ the woman called. ‘And don’t you forget it, young lady.’
Millie knocked on the side door of the garage and Mr Parker poked his head around.
‘Ready?’ he asked.
‘As we’ll ever be,’ Millie fizzed.
‘What’s the matter?’ Jacinta demanded in the middle of the velvet green lawn. ‘A week ago, you were holding my hand and telling me how glad you were that we’d be able to spend time together at rehearsals and this week you haven’t come to any of them. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were doing your best to avoid me, Lucas. Miss Crowley probably won’t even let you sing with us at the festival, you know.’
‘Oooh,’ George Figworth teased from above. ‘Trouble in paradise.’
Jacinta and Lucas gazed up to find they’d attracted quite the audience, with several boys lining the upstairs windows of the Fayle boarding house.
‘Put a sock in it, Figgy!’ Jacinta scowled and threw the lad a rude gesture.
‘Jacinta,’ Lucas chided. ‘You’ll get thrown off campus if anyone sees you doing that.’ Then he looked up at the window and shouted, ‘Get lost, Figgy, and take your mates with you!’
Jacinta shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. ‘I don’t care if someone throws me out. I want to know why you’re acting like this.’
‘I’m just trying to protect you, that’s all,’ Lucas said quietly.
‘I knew it! You’re leaving and going to live in New York, aren’t you?’ she said, folding her arms tightly.
The boy sighed. ‘No, I’m not. Well, not now, anyway. I might when I’m a bit older, but I’d talk to you before I made a decision. I’ve been thinking that we should do an exchange at the same time, but it would be better if we were in our second-last year, when we’ll have loads more freedom.’
Jacinta felt her muscles begin to relax and the blood start flowing again. ‘That would be … amazing,’ she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. ‘Well, if it’s not that, then what?’
‘Come with me.’ Lucas took her by the hand and guided her to a garden seat around the side of the building. At least it afforded them some privacy, out of sight of the boys’ prying eyes. Jacinta sat on the bench and rubbed her palms on the tops of her thighs. The two of them faced out towards the garden. ‘I saw your father last weekend in the village.’
‘So?’ she said, touching her delicate gold necklace.
Lucas turned to her and took her hands in his. ‘Jacinta, I think he wants to get back together with your mum and I’m not sure his motives are entirely pure.’
Jacinta raised an eyebrow and laughed. ‘You sound like some knight from the Middle Ages, Lucas. Please, just say what you mean.’
‘Your father needs to get back with your mother because of some business deal. He’s planning on them moving to the city and then, when the deal is done, he’s going to dump her again,’ Lucas said.
Jacinta snatched her hands away, her forehead puckering. ‘No, he’s not. You’re just saying that because your mother’s getting married and you don’t like the guy.’
‘But I do,’ Lucas said. ‘Jacinta, I wasn’t sure whether to tell you this or not because I didn’t want to upset you, but I promise I heard your father talking on the phone and I’m not making it up. Why would I?’
Jacinta stood up. ‘It’s not true, Lucas,’ she insisted. ‘Why would you say such a horrible thing?’
She turned and ran, her feet pounding grass and pavement all the way to Rosebud Lane. She sped past her father’s car parked in the driveway and around the back of the house but stopped short when she saw her parents through the glass doors. They were standing in the kitchen, looking at each other. Her father stepped towards her mother and touched her cheek, then he kissed her – and it wasn’t a peck either. This was a proper kiss, like in romantic comedies when the two people realise they truly love each other. Jacinta knew that Lucas was wrong. He had to be, or else her father was nothing short of a monster.
Alice-Miranda, Millie and Zahra were floating on air as they walked back to school.
‘That was amazing,’ Zahra gushed.
‘You were amazing,’ Millie said. ‘You’ll definitely win the talent quest and I can’t wait to see Caprice’s face when you do. She’s going to hate you, by the way, but don’t worry, she’ll still hate me more.’
The girls charged up the driveway, past Caledonia Stables and towards the Manor. As they neared the mansion, they could hear the sound of children’s voices, like bell chimes and giggles all mixed into one.
‘Oh no, Mama must be back,’ Zahra said. Her stomach clenched and she felt as if she had a fever.
‘But you’re with us, just like you said you were,’ Alice-Miranda said, giving the girl a reassuring squeeze.
The trio rounded the corner to find Ada Abboud rocking the twins in their pram while Hatice and Esma chased Cleopatra across the lawn.
‘Mama, hello,’ Zahra called out. ‘How is Papa?’
Ada smiled, her eyes crinkling in the corners. ‘Your father is awake and asking after you. He is doing much better,’ Ada said. ‘I told him that you would come with me tomorrow and then perhaps we will tell him about the festival.’
‘How much longer will Mr Abboud have to stay in hospital?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘There is a chance he will be able to come home in another week or two,’ Ada said. ‘Girls, would you like to join us for dinner tonight? I have made moussaka and I am sure Zahra would enjoy the company, as would I.’
Zahra nodded eagerly. ‘Please say yes.’
‘That would be lovely, Mrs Abboud. We just need to tell Mrs Clarkson where we are,’ Alice-Miranda replied.
‘We’re technically not allowed on the teachers’ floor of Caledonia Manor,’ Millie whispered out of the side of her mouth.
Alice-Miranda frowned. Millie was right, but perhaps Mrs Clarkson would make an exception in this case. After all, a couple of weeks ago no one would have imagined a family of six living up there either.
Hatice ran to Alice-Miranda, holding a bright pink dahlia in her tiny hand. ‘I picked this for you,’ she said. ‘From over there.’ She pointed at the garden, then tugged on Alice-Miranda’s arm, bringing her down to the same level where she whispered in the girl’s ear.
‘Of course we can,’ Alice-Miranda replied. She helped the girl choose another stem, which Hatice gave to Millie. As she did, something caught Al
ice-Miranda’s eye. She peered into the foliage and pulled out a scrunched-up piece of paper, which she opened and pressed flat.
It was a note bearing Miss Reedy’s personal letterhead. It looked like she must have made a mistake partway through, but how on earth it had come to be in the garden was anyone’s guess. Alice-Miranda looked up to the windows. Then she scanned the page. It seemed a particularly sensitive message to have disregarded so carelessly. Hopefully Miss Reedy had changed her mind about its contents and that was the reason it was tossed away. Alice-Miranda folded the note and popped it into her pocket. But what she’d do about it was another matter altogether.
Percy Pratt walked out of the Science storeroom and down the hall, carrying a box with the chemicals he required for his lessons on Monday morning. He’d decided to get the preparation done this afternoon then tomorrow he was off to the city for a lecture at the Science Museum.
‘Oh, hello Mr Pratt,’ Josiah Plumpton called out, startling the man and causing him to stumble.
The bottle of sulphuric acid teetered, but Percy managed to regain his balance. He spun around. ‘Yes, what do you want?’
‘I was wondering if you might like some company tomorrow,’ Josiah said. ‘I hear Professor Padbury is a very impressive speaker.’
Percy’s eyes narrowed. ‘How did you know I was going?’
‘Livinia told me. She was the one who suggested I join you – actually, she sent me a note.’ The man pulled it from his trouser pocket. ‘I saw her for a moment just now and mentioned that I was going to speak to you and she thought it was a splendid idea. Poor love is swamped – I don’t know how she’s getting everything done with all the interviews on top of running the school. I’ve barely seen her all week and she can’t seem to remember things from one day to the next.’
‘Your wife has had a lot of interesting ideas lately, so in that case, I don’t suppose I can say no.’ Percy rolled his eyes and began walking towards the lab.
Josiah chuckled and hurried to open the door for him. ‘Wonderful. What time shall we leave?’
The thought of spending an entire day with Josiah Plumpton was almost too much for Percy to bear, but he had no one to blame but himself. ‘Meet me at my car at half past seven,’ he said.
Josiah beamed. ‘Very well. I’m so looking forward to it.’
If Alice-Miranda thought last week was busy, the days leading up to the festival were nothing short of a blur. Thankfully, Mr Charles had mobilised a force of volunteers from the village to help get the grounds ready. Everyone was keen to pitch in and Myrtle Parker had insisted on supervising the delivery and placement of the portaloos and marquees, making sure they were installed according to the children’s masterplan. Alice-Miranda couldn’t have been more grateful, considering the infrastructure was delivered and set up on Friday during lessons.
Jacinta, meanwhile, had spent the week ignoring Lucas. She refused to take his calls and, when it came time for choir rehearsals, made sure to sit as far away from him as humanly possible. Sep had implored her to speak to the lad, but she was still upset with Lucas no matter how much she missed him. He had to understand that you shouldn’t go around spreading gossip that wasn’t true.
Saturday was chaotic, but the girls couldn’t make a proper start on things until after sport. Alice-Miranda had decreed that all committee members would meet on the oval at two o’clock, when they would get to work putting up signs, bunting and decorations, and sound-check the three stages.
While all this was going on, Ophelia Grimm was still recovering from the worst flu she’d ever known. The fevers had been blinding and, coupled with a hacking cough and headaches that felt like someone was poking her in the eye with a knitting needle, she was finally beginning to feel better – a week and a half after being struck down. She was glad that Aldous and Aggie had managed to stay healthy, but their absence was doing nothing to improve her spirits. Thankfully, the doctor said that she was no longer contagious and they could return home on Saturday evening. Ophelia was dozing between episodes of her favourite crime drama when she suddenly realised there was a lot of noise coming from the oval. With all the shouting and hammering and roaring of engines, it sounded as if a carnival had come to town.
‘Hello dear,’ Mrs Smith called, gently tapping on Ophelia’s bedroom door. A second later, she appeared with a pot of tea and plate of homemade shortbread on a tray. She put it down on the bedside table and walked over to open the curtains. ‘You need some air in here.’
‘What’s all that racket?’ Ophelia asked. She wondered what day it was.
‘The festival preparations,’ Mrs Smith answered with a smile. ‘It’s on tomorrow, and I must say that everything looks fantastic. Those girls have worked terribly hard and I think you’ll be very proud of them.’
Ophelia sighed. ‘I can’t imagine why I was so opposed to the idea in the first place.’
‘If I may be so bold, Miss Grimm,’ Mrs Smith began.
‘For goodness sake, Doreen, call me Ophelia. I’m not that woman any more.’ The headmistress rolled her eyes and sat up against her pillows.
‘All right. Well, Ophelia, I think perhaps you were that woman again for a moment there. I’d blame it on the hormones and the changes that having a child brings. I suspect you might have felt as if you were losing control because Miss Reedy was doing such a sterling job, so you asserted yourself. Yet you knew all along that our girls would be up to the task,’ Doreen said. ‘Anyway, drink your tea and focus on getting better. The staff and students need you and so does that husband and adorable little girl of yours. I’ve made dinner for them so Aldous doesn’t have to worry. There’s a fridge full of food, and I’ll make sure to have dinners sent from the dining room.
‘And just between you and me, I’m afraid that in the past few weeks Miss Reedy has undone all of her good work and completely lost the plot – not with the girls, as far as I can tell, but if she sends one more offensive note to a staff member, there will be an uprising with pitchforks and fiery torches. They’ll run her off the premises and Mr Plumpton along with her.’
Ophelia’s eyes widened. ‘Goodness, is it really that bad?’
‘Possibly worse,’ Doreen said. She turned and walked out of the room, leaving Ophelia alone with her thoughts.
Alice-Miranda pulled on her long white socks and slipped her feet into her leopard-print shoes. She jumped off the edge of the bed and grabbed her brush from the bedside table, then tied her hair into a high ponytail, adding a pink scarf around her head.
‘I can’t believe Britt pulled all this together and got it here for us in time,’ Millie marvelled, swishing her tulle skirt.
Alice-Miranda shrugged on her black leather jacket. ‘She is amazing.’
When the parcel had arrived for the girls mid-week, neither of them could believe it. Alice-Miranda had felt so awful about not having written to Britt for a month that she’d decided to call the girl instead and, during their telephone conversation, they’d talked about the festival. Britt had then surprised Alice-Miranda and Millie with what had to be the trendiest outfits they could have imagined and now they were about to give them their first public showing at breakfast. They were almost matching, except that Alice-Miranda’s headscarf was pink and Millie’s was green, which looked perfect against her red hair and matched the sparkly green heart on her white T-shirt.
‘And we get to stay in these clothes all day instead of having to wear our stuffy, old Winchester-Fayle Singers outfits. Miss Crowley is cool with a capital “C”,’ Millie said, grinning at her room mate in the mirror. ‘Ready?’
Alice-Miranda nodded and added a touch of lip gloss. ‘It’s been a lot of work for everyone, but I just know today is going to be incredible. The most important thing is we help the Abbouds get back in their house and rebuild Fattoush as quickly as possible.’
‘I hate to admit it – and I probably won’t to anyone other than you – but Caprice did a good thing,’ Millie said.
‘And afte
r all is said and done, Millie, I think you should tell her that. It would go a long way to making things better between you two. I would almost guarantee it.’ Alice-Miranda considered her friend’s outfit and pinned one last badge onto her jacket.
‘I hate it when you’re right.’ Millie smiled and gave Alice-Miranda a huge hug. ‘Come on, let’s get this show on the road!’
The girls hurried down the hall to the dining room, where the atmosphere was electric. Nick Waterford’s ‘Greatest Hits’ was playing through the speakers and, interestingly, quite a few of the girls were singing along despite their previous protestations that he was ancient. Everyone had pulled together something fabulous to wear too, including the teachers. Miss Crowley was in skinny jeans, black ankle boots and a shimmery silver top. Mrs Clinch had gone for gothic revival and had kitted herself out in black from head to toe, while Miss Wall was barely recognisable without her tracksuit on.
‘Have you ever seen Miss Wall with her hair out?’ Sloane whispered to Jacinta. The girl shook her head, her fishbone plaits flying from side to side.
Benitha Wall’s long, dark hair was blow-dried and the woman had on a full face of make-up too. She looked like a completely different person in a short skirt and peasant blouse. Percy Pratt also caused quite the stir when he walked into the room. Gone was his lab coat, replaced with stonewashed jeans and a denim jacket over a dark denim shirt.
‘Wow.’ Millie giggled into her hand. ‘I thought double denim was dangerous, but Mr Pratt’s taken it to the next level.’
But something wasn’t right – and not just with his outfit. The man had a face like thunder as he marched over to his colleagues. He produced a piece of paper from his pocket and the group huddled together. At one point Miss Wall threw her hands into the air and declared that she was going to see Miss Grimm. She strode from the room, leaving the girls wondering what on earth Miss Reedy had done now. Come to think of it, none of the girls could recall the last time they’d seen the acting headmistress. She’d been holed up in Miss Grimm’s office, conducting interviews for over a week, and hadn’t come to dinner at Caledonia Stables at all. Mr Plumpton had been nigh on invisible too.
Alice-Miranda Keeps the Beat Page 17