The teacher reached out to shake the child’s hand.
‘Thank you, Miss Reedy,’ Millie said quietly. ‘You didn’t have to do this. I’m just glad that Alice-Miranda is going to be okay.’
‘You were terribly brave, Millie – and we’re all very grateful,’ the teacher whispered, then stepped back to the microphone. ‘Please join me in a round of applause.’
Within seconds, the entire assembly was on their feet, stamping and clapping and cheering.
‘Thank you, girls,’ the woman said. ‘With only two days to go, I’d like to congratulate everyone on an excellent term. We have some certificates to hand out, but I think we should wait until dinner tomorrow evening so that Miss Grimm can join us.’
There were a few groans, which Livinia managed to silence with a raised eyebrow and a glare. Noticing that Miss Wall had returned to the stage, she called the woman over to give a run-down on end-of-term activities and transport arrangements for Saturday. The PE teacher stood up and walked to the microphone, but not before whispering something in Miss Reedy’s ear.
Livinia stepped back and, while Benitha talked about pack-ups and pick-ups, her thoughts drifted to the headmistress. She hoped with all her might that the woman’s current state didn’t have anything to do with the recent Kennington’s food-poisoning outbreak.
Daisy Rumble thumbed through the patient files, ensuring they were all in perfect alphabetical order. Mrs Minchin would be back from her holidays tomorrow and the woman was a stickler for detail. Daisy remembered the last time the woman had almost bitten her head off, when she’d put McDonald before MacMahon. Daisy enjoyed her work at the surgery and was quite hopeful that Mrs Minchin might retire soon. The woman’s husband seemed keen to spend a lot more time on the road in their caravan, but when Daisy had mentioned something about becoming grey nomads, Mrs Minchin had suddenly grown short of breath and wild-eyed.
Dr Everingham was such a kind fellow, Daisy knew she’d enjoy a permanent position in the practice. Although, Daisy still had her work at Highton Hall and spent at least two days of the week going to visit Granny over at Pelham Park. Daisy had also picked up some part-time cleaning work there too, for Matron Bright.
The telephone rang, interrupting her thoughts.
‘Good afternoon. Dr Everingham’s surgery, how may I help you?’ Daisy chirped into the handset.
Clearly, the man on the other end of the line hadn’t realised who she was as he asked twice if she could give him Daisy Rumble’s number. Finally, she managed to convince him that she was in fact Daisy Rumble and she’d be delighted to fill in for their nanny, who was unwell. Daisy could well attest to the girl’s miseries as Penny had been in the surgery earlier with a head full of flu. She couldn’t possibly have managed the children in that state. Daisy liked the Treloar youngsters, having looked after them a couple of times before when Penny had been away on holiday. Their father, Bentley, was a bit of an odd bod, and the wife seemed wound up like a clock most of the time, but it wasn’t as if she was going to be looking after either of them. Their oldest, Dottie, was such a sweet little girl and Leo and the baby were adorable.
Daisy hung up the telephone and glanced at her watch. She’d have to dash home first and collect a change of clothes as she was required to stay overnight. Bentley Treloar was on the night shift and his wife worked away during the week. The man had sounded quite desperate and had even offered to pay twice her normal rate. That wasn’t necessary, of course. Daisy Rumble had been brought up never to take advantage.
Adrienne Treloar kicked off her shoes and plonked down on the ancient armchair in the tiny flat she called home during the week. She’d just worked a double shift and was due back in six hours, but for now she had to attend to some important matters before snatching a couple of hours’ sleep.
Today she’d received the call she’d been waiting for. There was a second interview, and with the work she was currently doing, there was no way she could be overlooked again. Head of Paediatrics at a major children’s hospital was something Adrienne had dreamed of since she was a little girl, having been overlooked for everything else in life. But she’d show them all – especially that slimy hospital administrator, Edwin Rochester. It was his fault that her last tilt at a promotion had fallen through. Well, perhaps not entirely his fault, but he was the one who ultimately put the kybosh on things. She had been going to head up a research team with funding from the Paper Moon Foundation until it all went sour, thanks to the rotten man who made off with every last cent.
Adrienne opened her laptop and checked the news websites. The Kennington’s food-poisoning scare was certainly dominating the nation’s headlines. Her eyes skimmed the list of research sites she’d bookmarked for reading. It was a good thing she enjoyed work and could exist on an extremely minimal amount of sleep.
For a moment, her mind wandered to Bentley. He was the smartest person she knew yet, in the ten years since everything he’d been working towards had been ripped from his hands, he’d changed. Instead of trying to reclaim what was rightfully his, a sort of malaise had taken possession of her husband. It was almost breathtaking how one person’s actions could affect the lives of so many others. Since then Adrienne had had to work twice as hard and aim twice as high to keep a roof over their heads and to pay back the loan Bentley had taken out to fund his research and development – all of which had amounted to absolutely nothing.
It was disappointing, to say the least. Bentley could have won the Nobel Prize by now if only he hadn’t been such a coward. Adrienne sighed and returned to the task at hand. If she had any say in the matter, things would come right in the end and perhaps she’d be the one with the Nobel Prize instead.
Cecelia Highton-Smith pulled up to the side entrance of Highton Hall and turned off the ignition. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied, she might have noticed the standard roses had been trimmed into the most perfect round balls, their delectable pink blooms fragrant in the evening air. Mr Greening and Max were on hand to greet them, having received a call from Mrs Greening at the gatehouse a few minutes earlier, alerting them to Cecelia’s impending arrival.
‘Hello Mr Greening, hello Max,’ Alice-Miranda called. She waved from the back seat, where she had been positioned with her leg elevated and a pillow tucked behind her head. Apart from a few bumps in the road and a slightly twisted seatbelt, the journey had been a relatively comfortable one.
‘Hello there, poppet,’ Mr Greening replied, carefully opening the door so she wouldn’t tumble out. ‘It’s good to have you home. You gave us quite a scare, you know.’ He peered into the back of the Range Rover. ‘Did you happen to rob a florist on the way here?’
Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘This isn’t half of it, I’m afraid. There were so many stunning arrangements, but nothing compares to seeing your roses here at home,’ she said, and wrapped her arms around the man’s neck. She pecked his cheek as he lifted her out of the car. ‘You won’t have to do this for long, I promise. I’ve had a few days of practice on my crutches and I’m certain I’ll be wheeling about the grounds in no time.’
‘I think we’ll get you inside and then you can show off to your heart’s content. But I’m not trusting this loose gravel out here,’ the man said.
‘Just wait until I get my hands on Bonaparte,’ Max growled. ‘It’s extra training for that little blighter over the next few weeks. Teach him to baulk at hares in the grass.’
‘Please don’t be cross with him, Max,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘It wasn’t entirely his fault, and the loyal beast stayed with me the whole time. When Millie came back with help, they found him nibbling at my hair and licking my face.’
‘Well, perhaps I won’t be too hard on him then,’ the young man relented. ‘I’m off to pick him up tomorrow.’
‘Poor Chops will miss him,’ Alice-Miranda said.
But there was no point having Bony over at school when there was no one to ride him, and at least here at home Max could keep him lunged and out of the long gras
s.
‘Where’s Daddy?’ Alice-Miranda asked, realising that her father was missing.
Cecelia looked at Shilly, who frowned. ‘He’s had to go away for a couple of days. They’re investigating one of the factories and he was anxious to be there.’
Alice-Miranda stared at her mother blankly. Then it all came rushing back to her. ‘Oh, Mummy, I’d completely forgotten about Kennington’s,’ she gasped. ‘I haven’t thought of it once since I hit my head. Anyone would think I had a touch of amnesia! Here I was worrying about flowers – how thoughtless of me. Have you found the source of the contamination?’
‘That’s not for you to worry about,’ Shilly said firmly. ‘You need to devote all your energy to getting better.’
‘Please tell me what’s going on,’ the child implored. ‘I’m sure I could do something to help.’
But it was no use. It seemed the entire household had closed ranks against her. She looked to Mr Greening, who remained tight-lipped. Even Max shook his head.
‘Shilly’s right, darling,’ her mother said softly. ‘Leave it to Daddy and me to sort out the business. I’m sure we’re very close to a breakthrough.’
Mr Shillingsworth glanced at Cecelia. The pair knew that was an out-and-out lie. So far there had been no progress whatsoever.
Dolly appeared at the kitchen door, wiping her hands on her apron. Her immovable brown helmet of curls sat immaculately in place, as always, and she’d even managed to put on some lipstick just as the car had pulled up. She rushed out and gave Alice-Miranda a kiss on the forehead before hugging Cecelia tightly. Alice-Miranda didn’t miss the look that passed between the two women. It felt as if everyone knew something and they weren’t telling.
‘Welcome home, darling girl,’ Dolly trilled. ‘Come on inside, then. I’ve got soup and bread fresh from the oven for everyone. Then, young lady, it’s off to bed for you.’
‘But I feel so much better than I did yesterday,’ Alice-Miranda protested.
‘Nevertheless, I’ll feel better when you’re tucked up in your own bed and getting the rest you need.’ Dolly reached into her apron pocket for a tissue but pulled out a potato peeler instead. She wondered how long it had been there and why. With everything that was going on, she was beginning to feel a bit addled.
Mr Greening carried the child inside. Dolly had laid the scrubbed pine table in the kitchen for supper and there was a special seat with a stool for Alice-Miranda to rest her leg at the end.
The child raised her nose into the air. ‘Something smells delicious,’ she said, sighing happily. ‘Is it pumpkin and sweet potato with just a hint of ginger?’
Dolly tapped the side of her nose. ‘I see your sense of smell is as good as ever.’
‘Mrs Smith insisted on bringing me meals from school because she said that the hospital offerings were atrocious, but I had a couple of snacks and they weren’t too bad at all,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘I didn’t want to hurt the hospital cook’s feelings by not eating their food, so I gave my helping to one of the orderlies. Mr Kendall always looked hungry and he was very grateful. I think he had a tear in his eye when I insisted he take that beautiful bouquet of lilies from Prince Shivaji for his wife too. He was such a kind fellow – they all were. I don’t think I could have had a lovelier experience for my first time in hospital.’
‘That’s wonderful, dear,’ Dolly said, slicing up a fresh loaf of bread. ‘I just hope it will be your last time in hospital for a very long while.’
There was a knock on the door followed by the sound of Mrs Greening’s cheery voice. The woman had been eager to see for herself that Alice-Miranda was doing as well as had been reported. ‘Hello, everyone,’ she called, then bustled over to Alice-Miranda. ‘How are you, sweetheart?’
Alice-Miranda smiled up at her. ‘Much better, thank you,’ she said, yawning widely. ‘Oh, perhaps the drive has taken more out of me than I thought.’
The family and friends took their seats around the table and in no time flat Mrs Oliver and Shilly had served steaming bowls of soup and chunks of warm bread. Alice-Miranda managed to eat half of her helping before her head began to nod and she was having trouble keeping her eyes open.
‘I think that’s enough for you, darling,’ Cecelia said, looking at her daughter. ‘Mr Greening, would you mind helping me take Alice-Miranda up to her room? It’s bedtime for our lady of the hour.’
‘But it’s not even dark outside,’ the child said, yawning again.
‘Goodnight,’ the group chorused.
Harold Greening scooped Alice-Miranda into his arms. She held on as he followed Cecelia up the back stairs to the second-floor landing.
‘We’ve made some changes so you’ll have everything you need up here,’ her mother said.
Cecelia pushed open the door to the child’s pretty bedroom, with its huge four-poster bed, pair of cedar armoires and black marble fireplace. In one corner was an enormous doll’s house, which was an exact replica of Highton Hall right down to the cellars and secret passageways. The evening before their arrival, Shilly had been up dusting and polishing and arranging several bouquets of flowers that had been sent directly to the house. The most gorgeous array of blue hydrangeas sat in the middle of the mantelpiece, in one of Shilly’s favourite crystal vases. She hadn’t thought Cecelia would mind her using it on this occasion.
‘There’s a bell you can ring if you need us, and we’ve installed an intercom system too. Well, it’s your old baby monitor, but it still works perfectly,’ Cecelia prattled. She drew the curtains and turned to find Mr Greening holding a finger to his lips. It seemed Alice-Miranda hadn’t heard a word, as she was already fast asleep.
‘The food-poisoning outbreak that has now affected more than two hundred people around the country remains a mystery as Hugh Kennington-Jones prepares to hold his first press conference since the riding accident last weekend, which landed his nine-year-old daughter in hospital for several days,’ the newsreader announced. ‘We’re going to throw to our man on the ground, Simon Brent. Good morning, Simon,’ the woman said.
‘Turn it off, Shilly,’ Dolly said wearily as she walked into the side sitting room. ‘We know what he’s going to say.’ She plucked some lint from the front of her navy cardigan and yawned.
Mrs Shillingsworth picked up the remote and did as she was bid. ‘It’s terrible how many children are among the sick. I wonder if it’s something they particularly like to eat.’
‘That’s a very good point, Shill. They recalled all the bread and milk, as they were the things most shoppers had purchased in common, but I’ve tested the samples myself and there is nothing wrong with any of those products. It just doesn’t make any sense. I’ll speak with Hugh and see if there’s an abundance of school snacks or juice pops on the grocery receipts,’ Dolly replied.
‘What about the stores?’ Shilly asked. ‘Could it be some sort of environmental contaminant?’
Dolly Oliver placed the tea tray on the small table and proceeded to pour her and Shilly a strong brew. ‘Hugh’s had each one thoroughly investigated and scrubbed from top to bottom. I’ve never seen the man so anxious – and with Alice-Miranda’s accident at the same time. I can’t tell you what this whole fiasco has done to my nerves.’
The ladies sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts about the events of the past week. It had been a challenging time, to say the least, but there was one bright spot with Alice-Miranda now home and on the mend and the house full of gorgeous flowers. Despite leaving most of them behind with the hospital staff, well-wishers had continued sending more and Highton Hall was beginning to resemble the village flower show. The last arrangement that had arrived from Baron and Baroness von Zwicky required two men to carry it into the house and it now sat pride of place in the front entrance hall.
Shilly reached for her diary, which she had tucked into the side of the armchair, and flipped it open on her lap. She looked at the page then at her friend, her mug frozen midway to her lips.
Dol
ly glanced up from her brew. ‘What is it?’
‘It seems, with everything that’s been going on, I’ve put the garden party and open house completely out of my head. It’s the weekend after next – that’s not even ten days away!’ Shilly gasped, feeling the full weight of the revelation. ‘Good heavens, Dolly, I must have lost my mind. Perhaps I’ve got Alzheimer’s. Can one get such a thing overnight?’
Dolly reached across and patted the woman’s arm. ‘There, there. I’m sure you don’t have anything of the sort, my dear. We’ve had quite a few shocks this week. I’d completely forgotten about it myself.’
Shilly’s mind was reeling. ‘There’s so much to be done. I’ve got to clean the house from top to bottom and sort the flowers and what am I going to do with all those arrangements that have been arriving? They’ll be dead by then and I’ll have to deal with them all over again. We need to move the furniture in the large drawing room, and there are some carpets that must be steamed. Never mind fetching the endless miles of rope barriers from the attic – I won’t have any little horrors going places they shouldn’t. Not to mention the gardens. Is Harold on top of that? Heavens! Her Majesty will be here to relaunch the foundation. Oh, whatever am I going to do?’
‘Shilly, please calm down. The last thing we need is for you to have a heart attack on top of everything else,’ Dolly urged. ‘Fortunately, I’ve already planned the catering and ordered most of the food for the tea tent, but I have yet to organise any additional staff. Perhaps I can ask Doreen if she can come and help, given it’s school holidays next week and she told me last time we spoke that she didn’t have any plans.’
‘Good idea. Why don’t you call her now?’ Shilly took a deep breath, then smacked her forehead. ‘No wonder Lily rang to ask when I needed her again. She must think I’ve lost the plot.’
Dolly shot her a reproachful look. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no one who runs a household like you. I’m sure you can galvanise the troops and have everything done in time. At least we never have a minute to sit still and think too much around here.’
Alice-Miranda Holds the Key 15 Page 5