Alice-Miranda Holds the Key 15

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Alice-Miranda Holds the Key 15 Page 3

by Jacqueline Harvey


  Myrtle Parker glared at her husband. ‘Well, don’t come crying to me when you’re back in the hospital.’

  ‘You mean from Thursday night’s meatloaf?’ he teased.

  Myrtle huffed and jabbed her slice of orange cake with her fork. Stan thought it best not to mention that all of the ingredients in that had come from Kennington’s too.

  Millie racked her brain for something to say, eager to change the mood. Her eyes twinkled as she happened upon just the thing. ‘Do you want to hear about our trip to China? I ate a scorpion on a stick in the night market.’

  Myrtle blanched and choked on her cake. ‘Good heavens! How ghastly.’

  ‘Oh, that’s fantastic!’ Ursula gasped. ‘I did that too, years ago.’

  For twenty years Ursula had travelled the globe, amassing a wealth of experiences before only quite recently being reunited with her father.

  Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘And we helped to solve a case involving a huge robbery.’

  ‘Of priceless Ming Dynasty chicken cups,’ Millie added. ‘I know that doesn’t sound like much, but Alice-Miranda brought down some really big crooks – whales, actually.’

  Alice-Miranda blushed. ‘I didn’t do it on my own, Millie.’

  ‘What on earth are you talking about now?’ Myrtle tutted before sipping her tea. The old woman was also keeping one eye on the jam jar, as though the spoon might suddenly levitate and drop its red peril onto her plate if she dared turn her cheek.

  ‘Whales, high rollers, super-big gamblers,’ Millie replied. ‘The Chinese government gave Alice-Miranda a hefty reward too, which she donated to the Wongs’ new acrobatic school.’

  Silence fell over the table and all three adults leaned in, their curiosity piqued.

  Reg winked at Alice-Miranda. ‘Well, come on then, sweetheart. You’d better start from the beginning.’

  Adrienne Treloar folded the shirt and placed it on top of the clothes that were already packed neatly into her suitcase. She could hear the thumping of tiny feet in the hallway before the bedroom door burst open and a small boy with a mop of orange locks, and an even smaller girl with two feathery pigtails, flew into the room squealing. The boy leapt onto the middle of the bed, where his sister couldn’t climb.

  ‘Martha can’t get me! Martha can’t get me!’ he teased.

  The little girl’s face crumpled and she began to cry. ‘Mama!’ she yelled. ‘Leo’s a poo.’

  The boy giggled. ‘Martha said poo-oo! Martha said poo-oo!’ he chanted.

  ‘Leo, please stop tormenting your sister.’ Adrienne reached down and picked up the baby, who clawed at her neck. ‘It’s all right, blossom,’ she cooed, but it was too late. Martha was wound up like a top and no amount of cuddles and kisses were going to curb the impending wobbly.

  Adrienne looked at the clock on the bedside table.

  ‘Bentley!’ she shouted over the ruckus. ‘I need you to take Martha so I can finish packing.’

  Leo stopped his teasing. ‘Daddy’s in the shed,’ he said.

  ‘Of course he is,’ Adrienne muttered. She often wondered what her husband did all the time he spent out there. He claimed to be thinking. Well, that was a load of piffle if ever she’d heard it. He couldn’t even remember to take his swipe card to work. Adrienne had had to make a trip to the factory on a rare night off the other evening to deliver it. She really wished he’d do less thinking and more doing. If Bentley better acquainted himself with the housework and cooking and all the other things that needed to be done around the place, she wouldn’t have to rely so much on their nanny, Penny. Heaven knows his work was hardly what she’d have called stressful. It annoyed her no end that he’d settled for something so far beneath him. ‘Come on, then. We’d better go and find him.’

  Adrienne reached for Leo with her free hand, but the boy ignored her and jumped off the bed, racing ahead.

  ‘Be careful on the stairs,’ she called after him, her words falling on deaf ears.

  There was a huge crash as the lad missed the last step and hit the timber floor at the bottom with a thud. For a second Martha stopped screaming and a long, lung-sucking silence filled the house.

  ‘Leo!’ the woman cried out and scurried downstairs.

  She picked the boy up in her other arm and he clung to her, sobbing his almost-five-year-old heart out. She wished Dottie was home. Her older daughter was marvellous with the little ones and seemed to be able to calm them down better than anyone. It was hard to imagine she was only in the third grade.

  Adrienne walked through the house to the back door. She adjusted Leo’s dead weight on her hip. ‘Do you want to go and find Daddy for me?’

  Leo blinked his long wet lashes and nodded, then slipped from her grasp and ran into the garden, shouting out to his father.

  Adrienne watched after him, thinking how he had the most beautiful green eyes, just like her husband, until the kitchen clock refocused her attention. She cuddled Martha, whose bellowing had softened to a whimper, and headed back upstairs. If she didn’t leave in twenty minutes, she’d be late and that wasn’t part of her plan. She needed to be firing on all cylinders. This time she wasn’t going to be overlooked. She deserved this promotion more than anyone else and nothing and no one was going to stand in her way.

  After three attempts to entice Bonaparte to the gate with a variety of treats, Alice-Miranda finally succeeded with a handful of juicy carrots Mr Frost had pulled from his garden. Millie had only to whistle and Chops galloped over, but Bony was having far too much fun playing chasings with Cynthia and the goats.

  Alice-Miranda’s first try saw Cherry sprint from the other side of the field and snatch the apple from her outstretched hand, while her second go involved Pickles leaping more like a gazelle than skittering like the goat she was, to hoover up some lettuce leaves.

  ‘Poor Cynthia. There’s never anything left for you with those two bandits about,’ Mr Frost said. He pulled another carrot from his back pocket and made sure that the donkey had it all to herself.

  Alice-Miranda hugged the man. ‘Thank you for a lovely lunch. It’s just what I needed.’

  ‘Thank you for taking the time to drop by and for that delicious chocolate cake,’ Stan replied. ‘Mrs Smith has truly outdone herself this time.’

  ‘We’ll be sure to pass on the compliment,’ Alice-Miranda said as she placed her left foot into the stirrup and swung up into the saddle.

  ‘And I’m sorry about Myrtle’s nonsense earlier on in there.’ Stan looked pink around the ears. ‘She’s always been one for saying the first thing that pops into her head.’

  Millie rolled her eyes. ‘If it only came into her head it wouldn’t be a problem – it’s the flying out of her mouth that’s the issue.’

  Stan grinned. ‘I’m pretty sure she has a broken filter, Millie. I’ve never known her to be any different.’

  ‘Mrs Parker didn’t mean any harm and I rather like the fact that you always know where you stand with her,’ Alice-Miranda reasoned. ‘Besides, she is right. We can’t be too careful. We wouldn’t want anyone else to fall ill.’

  Millie quickly mounted Chops as Stan opened the gate.

  ‘It was lovely hearing your stories of China,’ he said. ‘I might even consider a little trip of my own one of these days.’

  ‘Good for you, Mr Frost,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘My granny says that you’re never too old for an adventure. Apparently, she and Aunty Gee are planning a trekking holiday in Patagonia next spring. Granny says they’ve been on quite a few explorations incognito over the years.’

  ‘Aunty Gee’s the best,’ Millie said fondly. ‘I can just see her and your granny with their backpacks, dressed in their safari suits, cutting a swathe through the jungle.’

  Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘Aunty Gee, yes – she’s up for anything – but it’s harder to imagine Granny Valentina out there. I guess it must be true, though, and Granny has been known to surprise us.’

  ‘Take care, girls,’ the man said, waving them farewell
. ‘I’d better make sure Maudie and Itch haven’t demolished the kitchen. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave those two inside with food on the table.’

  ‘Goodbye, Mr Frost,’ Alice-Miranda said, waving back. ‘Thank you for having us.’

  Cynthia heehawed, and Cherry and Pickles bleated loudly.

  ‘Bye!’ Millie called as the ponies began to trot.

  Bony and Chops quickened their pace and in no time the girls had crossed the creek and were bounding up the other side of the bank, heading for home.

  ‘I love Wood End,’ Millie sighed wistfully. ‘We should visit more often. I could sit and watch those silly goats forever.’

  ‘They’re comedians, all right,’ Alice-Miranda agreed. ‘As well as magicians.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you like to know how they get themselves on the roof of the shed and in that tree?’ Millie thought for a moment. ‘Maybe they have a ladder.’

  Alice-Miranda giggled, picturing the two creatures whipping out a ladder and scurrying up the rungs.

  As the two girls wove their way through the woods to the meadow known as Gertrude’s Grove, Millie turned to her friend. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

  Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘Much better. It was good to get out and think about other things.’

  ‘Even if Mrs Parker does have the tact of a pig in a pie shop,’ Millie grumbled.

  Alice-Miranda chuckled. ‘I seem to remember I promised you a race, so we’d better give you one.’

  Millie looked at her sideways. ‘You’re on, but just don’t cry about coming second. Countdown from three, two, one!’ she shouted.

  Both girls dug their heels into their ponies’ flanks and the little beasts took off. It was neck and neck as they traversed the field and galloped over the hill into the dale below. They slowed down to splash across the stream, then charged up the bank. Bony was doing well to keep up alongside Chops, who was renowned for his speed. Both ponies thundered on as they headed for the woods that separated the grove from the school.

  ‘Come on, Chops!’ Millie urged.

  ‘Go, Bony!’ Alice-Miranda called. She leaned forward in the saddle, ducking under a low-slung branch, which narrowly missed the top of her head.

  Chops surged ahead. Millie stole a glance, hoping they’d put some distance between their rivals. ‘Come on, boy, they’re gaining!’ she cried out.

  As Millie turned back to the track ahead there was an almighty shriek. She tugged hard on Chops’s reins and managed to bring him to a halt. As she wheeled around, her freckles disappeared under a complexion the colour of milk.

  Millie leapt from the saddle and ran to her friend. ‘Oh no, no, no, no!’

  Alice-Miranda was lying on her back, a trickle of red oozing from her lip. The silence was sickening. Millie crumpled beside her friend. Bonaparte stood over them, as if keeping guard. Millie realised there was blood coming from somewhere on the back of Alice-Miranda’s head. She gently removed the girl’s helmet, then tore off her jersey and wedged the garment between Alice-Miranda’s head and the ground to keep an even pressure and stop the flow. Tears began to cloud Millie’s eyes.

  ‘Wake up, wake up, please wake up,’ she whimpered. She tried desperately to remember what she should do first. What was that acronym? Doctor something. Dr ABC.

  ‘Danger,’ she said out loud.

  Millie cast around for any signs of danger, but there was none as far as she could see.

  ‘Response.’

  She lightly tapped Alice-Miranda’s cheek and called her name, but the girl was out cold.

  ‘Airway.’

  Millie leaned in close. She could feel Alice-Miranda’s breath on her cheek and see her chest rising and falling.

  ‘Good, that all looks good,’ the girl rambled to herself. ‘She’s breathing.’

  Millie noticed that her jersey was now soaked through. She needed something else to wrap around Alice-Miranda’s head. She stood up and ran to Chops, grabbing the tea towel Mrs Smith had used to package their picnic from her saddlebag. She bit the fabric, creating a tiny tear, then ripped it into two long strips to use as bandages. She tied them as tightly as she dared.

  ‘Be strong. Be brave. Be bold,’ she chanted under her breath. ‘It’s just a cut. Head wounds always bleed a lot. Remember when you had that tiny cut on your forehead? There was loads of blood, but you weren’t even really hurt. It doesn’t mean anything.’

  In the distance Millie heard a tractor engine start up. She jumped to her feet, trying to see where it was, and spotted a puff of dark smoke against the light grey sky.

  Chops was standing near the fence, his head in a thick clump of grass, tearing at the long tufts. She whistled and called him over to her. The pony looked up and did exactly as she’d asked. Millie hauled herself into the saddle.

  ‘Bonaparte – don’t move,’ she ordered.

  The little black pony whinnied loudly, and it sounded almost as if he were saying sorry.

  ‘And you,’ she said to her friend, ‘don’t you dare go anywhere either. I’ll be back in just a minute.’ Without another moment to spare, Millie dug in her heels, and she and Chops shot off in search of help.

  Millie picked at the skin around her thumbnail, replaying the events of the past several hours on a loop inside her mind. Her stomach twisted, perhaps from hunger, but she couldn’t contemplate eating a thing. Fortunately, she’d found Charlie Weatherly on the tractor quite close to the scene of the accident. He’d called for an ambulance, then raced off to open the gates while Millie had hurried back to Alice-Miranda and held her hand until help arrived. There had been no change, but at least the bleeding had almost stopped and the paramedics had congratulated Millie on her quick thinking with the makeshift bandages. Now, sitting in the hospital room with Alice-Miranda’s parents, there was nothing anyone could do but wait. She glanced over at the bed just as Alice-Miranda’s eyelids fluttered open.

  ‘She’s waking up!’ Millie exclaimed, rousing Cecelia and Hugh from their dozy states.

  ‘I’ll get the doctor,’ Hugh said groggily, and pushed himself out of the armchair in the corner.

  Cecelia rushed to her feet and stood beside Millie, watching her daughter. ‘Darling, we’re all here,’ she said softly.

  And she wasn’t understating the fact. Down the hallway, Miss Grimm, Miss Reedy, Mr Charles, Mrs Smith, Dolly Oliver, Mrs Shillingsworth, Mrs Greening, Jacinta and Sloane were all eagerly awaiting any news. Myrtle and Reg Parker were there too, along with Stan Frost. Even Evelyn Pepper had joined the group a couple of hours ago to see if there was anything she could do.

  Alice-Miranda ran her tongue around the inside of her mouth. ‘Water, please,’ she whispered hoarsely. She wrinkled her nose at the strong smell of antiseptic in the air.

  Cecelia quickly poured a glass from the jug on the side table and popped in a straw. ‘Take it slowly, darling,’ the woman said. ‘You’ve got some stitches inside your lip.’

  Alice-Miranda reached up and felt the back of her head. There was a tender bump and her hair was matted and crusty.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Millie asked, a warm rush of relief spreading through her veins.

  ‘Strange,’ Alice-Miranda replied, her brows furrowing. ‘And really tired.’

  Her father reappeared with the doctor in tow. The woman wore a white coat and had a stethoscope slung around her neck.

  ‘Hello there, Alice-Miranda,’ she said. ‘I’m Dr Miller and you’re in the children’s hospital in Chattering. You have a nasty bump on your forehead and there’s a cut inside your mouth, which we’ve had to stitch up, along with a gash at the base of your skull.’

  Alice-Miranda began to nod, then grimaced.

  ‘I’m afraid you’ve also got a badly sprained ankle. It’s bandaged now and we’ve done some X-rays. There’s nothing broken, so I’m sure you’ll be up and about in no time,’ the woman said as she checked the child’s pulse and blood pressure and shone a small torchlight into her eyes. ‘There are a lot of
people who are going to be very happy to hear that you’ve woken up.’

  ‘How long have I been asleep?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  Millie checked her watch. ‘About six hours.’

  ‘Goodness, I must have given you all a terrible fright,’ the girl said apologetically. ‘Is Bony all right?’

  Millie smiled. ‘He’s fine.’

  ‘And he’s in our bad books,’ Cecelia said, her mouth set into a grim line.

  Alice-Miranda frowned as a memory scratched at the back of her mind. ‘But it wasn’t Bony’s fault, Mummy,’ she said quietly. ‘We were having a race and of course Millie and Chops were in the lead when suddenly there was a hare. It jumped out of the grass in front of us and Bony tried to avoid it. I remember now. He went one way and I went the other and that’s why I fell off.’

  ‘Well, we can work out what to do with Bony later.’ Hugh kissed the child’s forehead, then hastily brushed at the side of his face.

  Alice-Miranda smiled at him. ‘There’s no need to be upset, Daddy. I’m already much better than I was an hour ago.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that,’ the man said, not attempting to stem the tide of tears this time.

  Cecelia sniffled into a bundle of tissues.

  ‘Shall I tell everyone she’s awake?’ Millie asked. She thought it best to give Cecelia and Hugh some time alone with Alice-Miranda.

  ‘Why don’t you and I both go?’ Dr Miller suggested. ‘But Alice-Miranda won’t be able to have any more visitors until tomorrow at the earliest. She needs to rest.’

  Millie nodded, and the pair walked outside into the hallway.

  ‘You’re a lovely friend, Millie,’ the woman said. ‘Alice-Miranda’s very lucky you were there when the accident happened. All that blood must have given you quite a scare.’

  ‘My mother’s a vet, so I’ve actually seen plenty of blood before, but I guess it’s different when it’s your best friend. It was a bit frightening,’ Millie admitted, chewing her thumbnail. ‘I can still remember the thud when she fell – it was so loud. I have to say, I’m amazed I managed to do anything useful. My brain felt like a lump of dough. It must have been the adrenaline.’

 

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