Alice-Miranda Holds the Key 15

by Jacqueline Harvey

  ‘Good morning, Mummy,’ she said brightly, easing herself onto a chair at the scrubbed pine table. ‘Where’s Mrs Oliver?’

  ‘Dolly and Daddy are downstairs in the lab going over some things,’ Cecelia said. ‘And Shilly’s upstairs, I think.’

  ‘I saw her coming out of the blue room. Is someone staying?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  ‘No, she was just tidying up in case Granny decides not to drive home when she’s here next week,’ Cecelia said. That wasn’t exactly true, but Valentina had mentioned on the telephone that she was intending to come and have dinner sometime soon. Cecelia buttered several slices of toast, then filled two bowls of porridge, placing one in front of her daughter and the other opposite.

  ‘Thank you, Mummy,’ Alice-Miranda said. She drizzled honey on top of her breakfast, then swirled it about with her spoon.

  Cecelia sat down and noticed Alice-Miranda staring into her breakfast bowl. ‘Are you all right, darling?’ she asked, wondering if the child should be getting more rest. She seemed to be spending an unusually long time focused on her breakfast.

  Alice-Miranda looked up. ‘Sorry, Mummy. It’s just that I’ve been having some very peculiar dreams recently and I was trying to recall more of the details.’

  ‘Well, you have had a head injury, sweetheart. It’s perfectly understandable that your thoughts are a little mixed up.’

  ‘Do you think it could be possible that someone is trying to sabotage Kennington’s?’ the child asked. ‘It just seems strange that no one has found an answer to it yet. Mrs Oliver is so thorough … and if there are other scientists as clever as her working on the case, why hasn’t anyone found the cause?’

  ‘Sabotage is usually about money and no one has come forward making demands,’ Cecelia replied. ‘That would be too horrible for words – imagine if all of those people were getting sick on purpose.’

  ‘It’s probably my imagination getting the better of me again,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘But did you know there are poisons that would be almost impossible to detect, like cyanide and arsenic? Sometimes they make people just a little bit sick. Thankfully, even though there are lots of people in hospital, they’ve only complained of tummy troubles and disorientation, right?’

  Cecelia swallowed a mouthful of porridge and nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what we’ve been told. How much study did you do on poisons, exactly?’

  Alice-Miranda shrugged. ‘I just read a few extra pages for my Science project.’

  ‘You’re like a sponge,’ her mother marvelled, shaking her head. Do you ever forget anything?’

  Alice-Miranda’s brows knitted together. ‘I don’t remember,’ she said, bringing a smile to both their faces.

  At that moment Dolly and Hugh came in through the back door.

  The man walked over and kissed his daughter on top of her head. ‘Hello darling.’

  ‘Good morning, Daddy,’ she said. ‘Mrs Oliver, is that a Post-it note stuck to your forehead?’

  Hugh turned and looked at the woman. ‘So it is. Sorry, Dolly, I hadn’t even noticed,’ he said sheepishly.

  The woman reached up and pulled the yellow slip from her brow. ‘Oh, gracious. I think I must be going mad. What does that say?’ Dolly slipped on the glasses hanging by the chain around her neck. ‘Poisons. Ah, yes. I want to investigate that option. Marjorie mentioned what you’d said to her last night, Alice-Miranda. Perhaps if you’re up to it, you can help me do some more research?’

  The girl nodded eagerly. ‘Of course.’

  Cecelia quickly got her husband and Dolly something to eat.

  Hugh picked up a piece of bacon and took a bite. ‘Marjorie called to say there are at least a dozen new cases of food poisoning this morning. We’ve got to do something soon – I just can’t have this continue.’

  ‘Is it time?’ Cecelia asked.

  ‘Well, if there aren’t any developments today, I think we’ll have no other choice,’ Hugh said.

  Adrienne Treloar yawned widely, then quickly tried to cover it up. She glanced at her watch, realising she should have been off shift hours ago, but with an influx of patients overnight, the hospital was as busy as it had ever been.

  ‘Why don’t you go and get some sleep, doctor?’ the young nurse beside her suggested.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Adrienne snapped. ‘I just need a coffee. I’d like a full suite of blood tests on the lad and get an IV line in stat. He needs some fluids.’

  The tiny boy on the bed moaned and clutched his stomach before vomiting into the bucket his mother was holding.

  ‘Oh, darling,’ she cooed, wiping his mouth. She turned her pleading eyes to Adrienne. ‘Doctor, isn’t there something else you can give him? He’s suffering terribly.’

  Adrienne felt a twinge in her chest. They were so dreadfully understaffed and completely unprepared. The ward was almost at capacity with six fresh cases of what looked to be food poisoning presenting that morning. She smiled gently and nodded. ‘Let’s make him comfortable,’ she said to the nurse before hurrying from the room.

  The hospital administrator, Edwin Rochester, caught up to the woman as she was making a beeline for the staff lounge. ‘Dr Treloar, may I have a word?’

  She spun around, surprised to see him at this time of day. He was usually in the coffee shop, eating his body weight in bacon and eggs.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked impatiently. Edwin Rochester was one of her least favourite people on the planet, but she was in the unfortunate position of having to be nice to the man, especially since he would be sitting on the panel of her job interview next week.

  He ran a hand through his greasy hair and puffed out his chest. ‘You’ve been putting in some big hours lately,’ he commented. ‘I hope you’re not going to be worn out for your interview next week.’

  ‘Someone has to be here,’ Adrienne replied, trying to disguise the contempt she felt for the man. ‘The Kennington’s crisis is showing no signs of abating.’

  ‘Yes, I imagine if you could crack that case, Queen Georgiana would likely make you her own personal physician, never mind the Head of Paediatrics here. You could pick and choose whatever job you wanted.’ Edwin raised his bushy eyebrow.

  Adrienne blinked. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘Well, I was joking about Her Majesty, but it would certainly stand anyone in good stead.’

  Funnily enough, her husband had said almost the same thing when they’d spoken on the phone last night, except for the nonsense about Queen Georgiana.

  ‘Perhaps if we were properly staffed …’ Adrienne began.

  A sneer crept onto the man’s face. ‘What are you implying, Dr Treloar?’

  Adrienne swallowed the urge to tell him exactly what she was thinking. Ever since the smarmy little man had taken over the staffing, they’d found themselves running on a skeleton medical team at best. His protestations that there was simply no money didn’t wash with Adrienne, particularly not when he seemed to be able to find the funds to swan off to several international conferences each year.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Do yourself and everyone else a favour and take a few hours to get some sleep. I don’t want you to make any mistakes on my watch,’ he said.

  She knew immediately that it wasn’t a suggestion, it was a threat. ‘Thank you for your concern, sir,’ Adrienne said. ‘I was just on my way to the on-call room.’

  That was a lie. She had no intention of sleeping. There was work to be done. Enough was enough – there were far too many people sick. She had to put a stop to things right away.

  Francesca Compton-Halls stared out of the window as the countryside rushed past in a blur. She could hardly believe it when Mrs Fairbanks had delivered the news last night that her mother wouldn’t be collecting her from school today. Not only that, Chessie wasn’t going home at all. So much for feeling happy about the holidays. She looked at her watch and realised that in just over an hour she would be at her grandmother’s house. The first-class carriage was al
most empty apart from a man in a suit ahead of them who hadn’t looked up from his book once and a lovey-dovey young couple who stared relentlessly into each other’s eyes.

  To add insult to injury, Chessie was spending the entire journey with Madagascar Slewt. The snooty girl had whinged and griped the whole way, although it hadn’t been a surprise to anyone else that she’d been farmed out to her aunt for the holidays. Fortunately, she’d had a selection of students to torment for much of the journey, but after five hours, it had whittled down to just the two of them. Chessie and Madagascar sat opposite one another, wilfully ignoring the other’s presence until Madagascar slammed her book shut.

  ‘Why do you always carry that stupid dog around with you?’ she demanded, pinching her nose. ‘He stinks!’

  ‘My uncle gave him to me when I was a baby,’ Chessie murmured.

  ‘When was that? A week ago?’ Madagascar chuckled, thinking herself very clever.

  Chessie clutched Rodney tighter, her stomach turning loops. In her dreams last night, she had finally worked up the courage to phone her new stepfather to see whether she was right about him not wanting her. But then she woke up and it had never happened. The few times she’d met him before the wedding, he’d seemed rather nice, actually – not an obvious child-hater, at any rate. And to be fair, her mother had never said that about him. Chessie wished she knew why she was being shipped off to her granny. Mrs Fairbanks said that her mother was ‘overwhelmed’ with a lot on her plate, but what did that even mean? Chessie and her mother had been extremely close – or that’s what she’d thought. And now her mother lived in a huge house with a butler and a cook. How could she be so busy that she didn’t want to see her only child? None of it made any sense at all – unless of course it was because her stepfather didn’t want to have her around and her mother couldn’t bring herself to say so.

  Thankfully, Madagascar lost interest and returned to her book. Chessie glanced up at the map on the wall at the end of the carriage. This term there had been more than a few times she’d wished she could just run away to a place where no one would ever have to worry about her again. But she hadn’t. She wasn’t brave enough, for a start.

  A young woman with a pile of soft auburn curls pushed a trolley laden with chips and chocolates and an array of soft drinks down the aisle. Her name was Isabella – it said so on her badge.

  ‘Would you like any snacks, girls?’ Isabella asked. She had a cheerful voice and kind honey-coloured eyes.

  Chessie shook her head. ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Hot chocolate,’ Madagascar ordered, not even bothering to say please or look up from her book.

  ‘You must be nearly home,’ the woman said as she bent down to get a cup and saucer from the underside of her trolley.

  Chessie nodded, smiling shyly. She wasn’t exactly sure how much longer it was but she knew she had to get off at Nibley Green, which was the closest station to her grandmother’s house.

  ‘I’m on until the end of the line,’ Madagascar huffed. ‘It’s so boring. And make sure you come back again sooner next time. I’m almost dying of thirst here.’

  ‘Oh, I am sorry to hear that,’ said Isabella. ‘There’s a dining car in the middle of the train. You can pop in there anytime if you need something urgently.’

  ‘Yes, but I shouldn’t have to get up. It’s your job to look after us,’ Madagascar retorted. ‘Clearly, you’re not very good at it. Perhaps I’ll get my mummy to write to your supervisor, Isabella.’

  The way Madagascar said Isabella’s name sent a shiver up Chessie’s spine. She glanced at the woman, who gulped and brushed at her eyes.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Chessie whispered, making sure Madagascar wasn’t watching. She handed over a tissue from her pocket.

  Isabella took it gratefully and blew her nose. The train slowed to a stop. Chessie had learned that this usually meant the driver was waiting for another train to pass. The young woman poured a large cup of hot chocolate and passed it to Madagascar.

  ‘Oh, look, that’s Bedford Manor over there,’ she said, doing her best to sound chirpy again. She pointed to a dense grove of trees and hedges across an open field. A huge roof dotted with chimney pots was visible in the distance.

  Madagascar rolled her eyes. ‘Am I supposed to be impressed? Our house is much bigger than that.’

  Chessie slid across and leaned against the window to get a better look. She turned back to the woman. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked. ‘Is that really Bedford Manor?’

  Isabella nodded. ‘Yes, I know it well. My great-aunt has been Lord Tavistock’s cook since forever and I’ve visited her there lots of times. I think I’ve explored places in that house I probably shouldn’t have. She was terribly sad when the old man passed away, although she said that the new Lord is a lovely fellow.’

  As the train resumed its journey, Chessie consulted the map on the wall. The next station was Highton Mill, and she assumed it couldn’t possibly be far from there to Bedford Manor.

  ‘Enjoy the rest of your trip,’ Isabella said. She mouthed her thanks to Chessie before pushing her trolley forward and moving on to the car ahead.

  Green fields flashed by and soon houses began to appear. Chessie’s mind was a whirl of thoughts – none of them rational.

  The brakes screeched and the train slowed as the guard announced that they were approaching Highton Mill. By Chessie’s reckoning, it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since they had stopped near Bedford Manor. She stood up and hurriedly stuffed her book into her backpack, along with Rodney.

  Madagascar glared at her. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Uh …’ Chessie hesitated. ‘It’s my stop,’ she said, then dashed off to fetch her luggage at the end of the carriage.

  As the train ground to a halt, a man helped to lift Chessie’s bag down.

  ‘Is someone meeting you?’ he asked, and she recognised him as the fellow who had been reading his book.

  Chessie’s heart thudded in her ears and her mouth felt like a desert. She managed a squeaky yes and a swift nod, which was enough to send the man on his way among the other alighting passengers. Chessie walked along the platform, her pulse racing. What had seemed like a good idea five minutes ago didn’t seem even a tiny bit sensible right now.

  The whistle blew and the guard called, ‘All aboard!’

  Chessie turned to run back, but it was too late. The train rolled forward, every revolution of its wheels increasing in speed.

  ‘Oh no, what have I done?’ she whispered.

  She looked up to see Madagascar at the window, poking out her tongue and making a face. The platform that had been busy with people moments earlier was just about deserted and there was now a chill in the air. On the other side of the platform another train pulled into the station.

  Chessie trundled her bag towards the exit, thinking there should be a telephone box nearby. What she would say to her grandmother, though, she wasn’t quite sure. She walked down a small ramp and peered up the street. A woman wearing a dark-brown suit, her arms laden with grocery bags, strode purposefully towards her. Chessie tried to avoid eye contact, but the woman stepped into her path, blocking her way.

  ‘Is someone coming to collect you, dear?’ the woman asked.

  Chessie gulped and somehow worked a smile onto her face. ‘Yes, my mother will be here any minute.’

  The woman frowned and looked over the girl’s shoulder. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Ten,’ Chessie said with as much confidence as she could muster.

  The woman exhaled loudly and let her bags drop to the ground. ‘I’ll wait with you, then. My name is Mrs Bottomley and I’m a teacher at the village school. I think you’ll find that I’m perfectly well qualified to supervise you until your mother arrives, though, really, you should know not to talk to strangers.’

  Chessie’s mind was agog. She needed to find a phone before her grandmother left for Nibley Green station or she’d be in huge trouble. She thought for a second.
‘Oh my goodness, I’m so silly. Mummy said that I would have to meet her at the hairdresser. I’d best be going or she’ll be wondering where I am,’ she said, hurrying off.

  ‘I think you’ll find the hairdresser is in the opposite direction,’ the woman called after her.

  Chessie swiftly turned about face and headed the other way, muttering her thanks.

  ‘What’s your name, dear?’ the woman asked, but Chessie pretended she hadn’t heard and kept on walking. Mrs Bottomley seemed the kind of teacher who liked to know much more than she needed to.

  Finally, Chessie spotted a phone box on the next corner and raced over to it. She rummaged around in her wallet for some change, then, with trembling fingers, rang her grandmother’s number.

  ‘Hello Granny,’ she said cheerily.

  Her grandmother was surprised to hear the child on the other end of the line and wasn’t the least bit impressed when she was told there’d been a change of plans. She’d had to beg off a trip she’d been looking forward to taking with her sisters when Jemima had asked her to look after Chessie over the holidays. Fortunately, she babbled all about it to her granddaughter.

  ‘Mummy said you should go on your trip and she’ll call you when you get back,’ the child said shakily. She’d never told so many lies in all her life and half-expected to walk out of the telephone booth with a nose as long as Pinocchio’s.

  Her grandmother then spent the next couple of minutes ranting and raving about whether there was enough time to get organised, but by the end of the conversation she’d decided that she would throw some clothes in a bag and head off immediately. She told Francesca that she loved her and promptly hung up the telephone.

  Chessie looked at the receiver and sighed. She couldn’t work out if she was relieved or terrified, though it was most likely a mixture of both. She walked back out along the high street, wondering how on earth she was going to find her way to Bedford Manor. There weren’t many people about and she was beginning to think this was probably the worst idea she’d ever had. Her mother would be furious and her grandmother would never trust her again. But another part of her thought that, surely, her mother would be so excited to see her that she’d overlook Chessie’s disobedience. This was the new Chessie, the brave one who wouldn’t put up with being sent away to boarding school. Well, that’s what she’d told herself yesterday when she was feeling a whole lot better about life.