Alice-Miranda In New York 5

by Jacqueline Harvey

  Despite what his own daughter thought, Morrie hadn’t enjoyed pulling her out of school. But she had to understand what it meant to be a Finkelstein. He was protecting her. She’d only be hurt. Everyone knew that the Hightons hated the Finkelsteins. It was a fact of life, like breathing.

  Alice-Miranda and Dolly Oliver arrived home armed with some remarkable findings.

  ‘Mummy, are you here?’ Alice-Miranda called as the lift opened into the hallway. ‘Daddy, are you home?’

  But the apartment was silent.

  ‘Come along, dear, why don’t you go and have a bath and hop into your pyjamas and I’ll make us something to eat. I’m sure your parents will be home soon enough.’

  ‘I wish I had Lucinda’s telephone number.’ Alice-Miranda looked at Dolly. ‘I have to tell her what we found out.’

  ‘I don’t think Morrie Finkelstein would appreciate your call, dear, and I suspect the Finkelsteins would have a private number anyway. Perhaps you could write to her instead.’

  Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘That’s exactly what I’ll do. And then I’ll write some more postcards to Millie and Jacinta and everyone back at school as well.’

  ‘After your bath, all right?’ Dolly instructed.

  Alice-Miranda nodded and ran to her room.

  Dolly walked through the hall and into the kitchen where she saw the light on the telephone blinking. She pressed the button to listen to the messages.

  ‘Hello Dolly, hello darling, Mummy here. I’m so sorry but I’ve got to entertain some important suppliers tonight. Morrie Finkelstein has done some serious damage this afternoon. He’s very cross with me. I think I made a big mistake telling him that you and Lucinda were friends and now he’s even more determined to ruin us. But don’t worry – Mummy’s made of sterner stock than that. I hope you had a lovely afternoon with Dolly. Now run a bath and hop into your PJs and I’m sure that Dolly will make you something yummy to eat. Love you. Oh, and Daddy’s joining me a little later. He had some business back at the store so he won’t need any supper either.’

  Dolly opened the refrigerator and pulled out four eggs.

  ‘Boiled eggs and toasty soldiers will do us just fine this evening,’ she said to herself.

  She took a saucepan from the drawer and was filling it with water when the telephone rang.

  ‘Hello, Dolly Oliver speaking,’ she answered. ‘Hello Ambrose, dear, how wonderful to hear from you. Yes, yes, all going well. Keeping very busy. And what about you?’ Dolly pulled up a stool and settled in for a long chat.

  Alice-Miranda decided against a bath and instead hopped into the shower for a quick scrub. She dried herself off, pulled on her pyjamas and shoved her feet into her slippers. Outside her bedroom she saw that there was a light on in her father’s study and wondered if he had arrived home while she was in the shower.

  She skipped to the end of the corridor and knocked gently on the door.

  ‘Daddy,’ she called. ‘Are you there?’ Alice-Miranda turned the handle and poked her head inside. Her father was nowhere to be seen. She was about to leave when something caught her eye. It looked like a letter and it was lying untidily in the middle of the floor as if perhaps her father had dropped it on his way out. She opened the door and walked inside, scooped the letter up and placed it carefully on the vast desk beside an ancient leather-bound book. She couldn’t help noticing a couple of notes, in her father’s own handwriting, hastily scrawled onto a notepad.

  Painting in Met – how did it get there?

  Xavier alive?

  Where is he?

  And there was a newspaper cutting too. Alice-Miranda picked it up. It was a death notice for Arabella Grace Kennington-Jones and Xavier Edward Kennington-Jones. Her grandmother and uncle.

  Her mind buzzed. Xavier had been killed in the same accident that had claimed her granny, hadn’t he? But why did her father write Xavier alive? She wondered if it was possible that her father’s brother wasn’t dead after all these years.

  Alice-Miranda ran her fingers over the leather-bound book beside her father’s note. She opened the cover. Tucked inside was another much smaller book.

  ‘Wow!’ Alice-Miranda exclaimed to herself. ‘That’s beautiful.’ She studied the illustrations closely, smiling at the surprising details.

  Something tugged at Alice-Miranda’s memory.

  ‘Oh my goodness!’

  It was no wonder her father had been so distracted these past few days. Alice-Miranda bit her lip. It seemed that everyone had a mystery to be solved.

  The next morning, after a dream-filled sleep, Alice-Miranda awoke to find her mother had already left the apartment for work and her father had apparently flown home on some urgent Kennington’s business.

  ‘Your mother’s quite beside herself,’ Dolly Oliver announced as she placed a mountain of scrambled eggs and crispy bacon on Alice-Miranda’s plate. ‘And who knows if your father will even get back in time for the opening?’

  ‘Poor Mummy,’ the tiny child sighed. ‘It’s not fair that Mr Finkelstein should make her life so complicated.’

  ‘Well, your mother feels terrible that she’s not here for you either, my dear. She was wondering if you might be better off going back to Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale.’

  Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘That’s silly. I love Mrs Kimmel’s and there’s still so much of the city I haven’t seen and we’ve only got another week or so. You don’t mind keeping me company in the afternoons, do you?’

  ‘Good heavens, dear, not at all, although you must remember that even with my new Bollywood fitness regime, I’m still not as young as I once was,’ said Dolly Oliver, smiling down at her young charge.

  ‘Besides, I’ve got to help Lucinda. Hopefully what we found out yesterday about Ruby Winters might make Mr Finkelstein see that there’s absolutely no point at all to his feud with Mummy. I mean, it’s really too stupid for words,’ Alice-Miranda babbled.

  ‘Well, your mother will be pleased that you’re not upset with her,’ said Dolly as she buttered some toast.

  Alice-Miranda couldn’t imagine there was a reason to be upset with her mother at all.

  ‘Come along, dear, stop talking and start eating or you’ll be late for school,’ Dolly instructed.

  Lucinda Finkelstein was tired of crying. Her face was a patchwork of red and she shuddered with every breath. When she and her father had arrived home yesterday he locked her in her room and told her that she was a traitor.

  Morrie had forbidden Gerda from spending any time with Lucinda either, telling his wife that ‘the child needs to understand what it means to be loyal’.

  Gerda had begged Morrie to at least let her take Lucinda her evening meal but he wouldn’t allow it, instead timing Dolores’s visits in and out to deposit a plate of goulash and some bread, both of which were returned uneaten to the kitchen.

  Morrie had arranged for his personal assistant to interview several tutors this morning.

  Lucinda dragged herself out of bed and shuffled to the window, peering through the drapes as her father’s car disappeared into the traffic on Fifth Avenue.

  Almost at the same time, a key turned in the lock and her mother entered the room.

  ‘Lucinda,’ Gerda spoke gently from the doorway.

  Lucinda didn’t reply.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lucinda. I wanted to come last night but your father wouldn’t allow it,’ Gerda sniffed.

  ‘I don’t care, Mama,’ Lucinda snapped.

  Gerda walked over to where Lucinda was standing at the window. She put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

  Lucinda recoiled. ‘Don’t touch me!’

  Gerda withdrew her hand and hovered behind her. ‘Your father is . . .’

  ‘Insane,’ Lucinda whispered.

  ‘Lucinda! He just wants
the best for you.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know anything about me. He treats me like I’m a possession, not a person. He might as well sell me at the store. And you never stick up for me. What sort of a mother allows her daughter to be treated like . . . goods?’ Lucinda turned and faced her mother.

  Gerda’s lips quivered. ‘The same mother who can’t even stick up for herself.’

  ‘I’m going back to school, Mama,’ Lucinda announced.

  ‘No! You mustn’t. Lucinda, I will do my best to speak to your father, I promise, but please don’t do anything to make the situation worse. I beg you.’ Gerda’s face was now streaked with tears. ‘He’ll calm down in a week or two and then I’m sure you can go back. When is the Highton child leaving?’

  ‘What’s that got to do with anything? Alice-Miranda is my friend and, yes, she is leaving soon but what about Quincy and Ava? Father forbids me to have anything to do with them too,’ Lucinda said.

  ‘Yes, but I’m sure things can go back to the way they used to be. Your father didn’t make such a fuss about them. I’ve known for a long time that you played with Ava and Quincy at school and I did my best to keep it from him. It’s just that yesterday when Cecelia Highton-Smith told him that you and her daughter had become such good friends, he was so mad. I’ve never seen him like that before. Well, not for a long time,’ Gerda explained. ‘I don’t understand him either, at times.’

  ‘Alice-Miranda is the kindest person I’ve ever met, Mama. I don’t understand why we can’t be friends. She said herself that we probably have more in common than anyone. Father might be able to keep me locked up now, but just wait, as soon as I’m old enough I’m leaving and then I will never, ever be back. Is that what he wants?’ Lucinda threw herself onto her bed.

  ‘Of course not, darling,’ said Gerda, sitting down beside her.

  ‘Please leave me alone, Mama,’ Lucinda breathed into her pillow. ‘Just go!’

  Gerda Finkelstein stood up. How did she ever let it all get this far? Things had to change and fast, for everyone’s sakes.

  Alice-Miranda barely saw her mother over the next few days. And when she did, Cecelia was so busy on the telephone and running up and down to the store that there never seemed a right time to tell her about their discovery at the library. Her father still wasn’t back, either. And school was different too. There should have been four friends and now there were only three. It was all a little off balance. Alice-Miranda enjoyed Mr Underwood’s lessons and she had fun with Quincy and Ava, but Lucinda should have been there.

  Alice-Miranda had written to her every day, but so far there was no reply. She wondered if the letters were even getting to Lucinda at all. She had asked Mrs Oliver for some plain paper and envelopes rather than her usual embossed stationery. Ava and Quincy didn’t have Lucinda’s telephone number and when Alice-Miranda asked Miss Cleary, the receptionist told her that she wasn’t allowed to hand over private information.

  Mrs Oliver met Alice-Miranda every afternoon after school and together they explored the city. They’d been to Staten Island and Ground Zero, across the Brooklyn Bridge and to tea with the storybook character Eloise from Eloise at the Plaza. Alice-Miranda loved their adventures and she was pretty sure Mrs Oliver was going to relent sooner or later and take a ride in a pedicab.

  Alice-Miranda was finishing off her and Lucinda’s Science project.

  ‘That’s looking good,’ Felix Underwood commented.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Underwood. I just wish Lucinda was here,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  Felix sighed. ‘Sometimes rich people are really hard to figure out.’

  ‘Why do you say rich people?’ Alice-Miranda asked. ‘I’d have thought all people can be a little perplexing at times.’

  ‘I suppose I look at someone like Morrie Finkelstein: he has everything a man could possibly want and more, and he’s so bitter and angry. He doesn’t appreciate that he has a great daughter and more money and opportunities than anyone has a right to. I just don’t understand. If I had heaps of money, I’d rather use it to help other people than keep it all hoarded away for me.’

  ‘I see what you mean, Mr Underwood. Mummy and Daddy say that being wealthy is a huge responsibility and we should never take anything for granted,’ said Alice-Miranda, nodding her head.

  ‘It sounds like your parents have their heads screwed on exactly the right way.’ Felix grinned at his youngest student. ‘So,’ he said, ‘are you game to look after Maisy again at the park today?’

  Alice-Miranda glanced over at Ava and Quincy who were arguing over whether Jupiter or Saturn was closest to the sun.

  ‘Why not? I’m pretty sure I’ve got that dog’s measure now,’ Alice-Miranda smiled.

  The bell rang for the start of lunch and Alice-Miranda trotted downstairs to get Maisy’s lead and accessories.

  ‘You’re not really taking her out again, are you?’ said Miss Cleary, as she reluctantly handed over the goods.

  ‘I’ll be fine, Miss Cleary. Truly. I know what sets her off and I’m almost certain I won’t have the same problem again this time.’

  Ava and Quincy were horrified when Alice-Miranda met them at the cafeteria and told them her plans.

  ‘But what about Thea?’ Ava asked. ‘She’s got it in for you, Alice-Miranda, and one “s” word and Crazy Maisy will be off.’

  ‘I don’t think I have to worry about Thea,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  ‘Why? Is she away?’ Quincy asked.

  ‘No, she’s here,’ Alice-Miranda said.

  As always, Maisy was at the back door with her tail on high speed dusting the walls and everything else in her path. Alice-Miranda clipped the lead onto her collar.

  ‘Now, Miss Maisy, are we going to have a good time at the park today?’ Alice-Miranda bent down and looked into the labrador’s big brown eyes.

  Maisy frowned.

  ‘I think you know exactly what I just said.’

  Maisy’s tongue shot out and she slobbered on Alice-Miranda’s cheek.

  ‘Yuck.’ She wiped her face with a tissue.

  ‘Hi there.’ Gretchen walked over and scratched Maisy between the ears.

  ‘Hi Gretchen. You know, if you keep doing that, she’ll be your friend for life,’ Alice-Miranda said as Maisy began to drool all over the floor. ‘Where’s Thea?’

  ‘She’s just gone to get her sweater,’ Gretchen replied. ‘Thanks for telling me all that stuff the other day. It explained a lot and well, you know, she’s not all bad.’

  ‘I know that,’ Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘Nobody is.’

  Thea appeared and the two girls split apart.

  ‘What are you doing with that dog?’ Thea narrowed her eyes. ‘She’d better not come anywhere near me.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure that nobody is going to do anything to upset her,’ said Gretchen, glaring at Alethea. ‘Are they?’

  ‘No, and why are you looking at me like that, Gretchen? I thought we were friends,’ Alethea said.

  Gretchen was stern. ‘We are friends, Thea. I’d say I’m your best friend. And I’d really like it to stay that way.’

  Alice-Miranda laughed as Gretchen and Alethea squabbled the whole way to the park.

  Lucinda had been imprisoned at home for four days. Her father had employed a tutor, Miss Hinkley, who arrived each morning at nine and departed by three. Lessons were taken in the study attached to Lucinda’s bedroom and while Miss Hinkley was nice enough, Lucinda had no desire to befriend the young woman, in case she might think the job was permanent.

  Each afternoon, Lucinda’s mother would appear and insist that she put on a dress so they could go and visit one or another of her awful friends and their hideous daughters. Lucinda despised those outings but her mother insisted that they may make her father feel better about sending her back to scho
ol.

  Gerda poked her head into the room. ‘Lucinda, please meet me downstairs in five minutes.’

  Lucinda didn’t answer. She walked into her wardrobe and put on the dress Dolores had selected earlier in the day. She scraped her hair into a ponytail, cursing the springy curls that escaped around her face, and went downstairs.

  Her mother was already in the car. Gerda leaned forward and spoke to their driver, Raymond, in hushed tones.

  ‘Are you sure, ma’am?’ Lucinda heard him reply.

  ‘Very,’ Gerda replied.

  ‘As you wish.’ Raymond looked at Gerda in the rear-vision mirror.

  Lucinda’s eyes were fixed on the street outside the gates. She watched the children bounding along with their friends on the way home from school.

  Most of her mother’s friends lived uptown, so Lucinda was surprised when Raymond didn’t make a left turn into one of the cross-streets but instead headed downtown, past East 75th and further down past Highton’s. But she didn’t ask. Her mother likely had some errand to run.

  She looked out the window at all the people in the city going about their business. It was strange to live in such a big place and not really know it.

  The car continued through Midtown and into the lower part of Manhattan. Lucinda had really begun to wonder about their destination; she couldn’t remember travelling this far downtown in her life.