‘No. Well, not really,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I thought you might have been playing a trick on me when I saw Jacinta wink at you at breakfast.’
‘Hurry up,’ Millie ordered, nodding at the parcel. ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’
Alice-Miranda tore open the paper and pulled out a beautiful silver photo frame.
‘Look!’ she exclaimed. ‘This picture was taken on the Octavia at Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Lawrence’s wedding – everyone’s there.’
‘Let me see.’ Sloane had arrived and joined the group. ‘Look! That’s me.’ She pointed at herself standing beside Millie.
‘Der.’ Millie rolled her eyes.
Sloane wrinkled her nose.
‘What else is in there?’ Jacinta asked.
Alice-Miranda peered into the package and pulled out a beautiful pair of leather riding gloves, several pretty hairclips and a lovely blue dress.
‘I’ve had some other parcels delivered to the house, too,’ Mrs Derby said.
Alice-Miranda beamed. ‘It sounds like my whole day is going to be full of surprises.’
‘Come on,’ Millie urged. ‘I’m starving and that cake of yours looks really good.’ She eyed off the large wedges of chocolate cake set out along the servery.
As the girls ate their delicious morning tea, Millie and Alice-Miranda agreed to meet at the stables at lunchtime and see how Chops and Bony were getting on.
Jacinta said that she was heading off to the gym during the lunch break and Sloane mentioned that she needed to go to the library and make a start on some research for an assignment.
Jacinta stared at her room mate and frowned. ‘Who are you and what have you done with the real Sloane Sykes?’
‘Jacinta! I think it’s wonderful that Sloane wants to get her work done,’ Alice-Miranda said.
‘Well, I’d rather go to the library than to the stables any day. I’m never riding again – horses are horrible.’ Sloane curled her top lip, recalling her last outing on Stumps, which saw her galloping through the woods, completely out of control.
‘You know, maybe you’re not so bad after all,’ Jacinta said and raised her hand to high-five Sloane across the table. ‘We might have more in common that I first thought.’
The girls went off to their lessons, and on the way Alice-Miranda ducked into the kitchen to see if she could organise some sandwiches for her and Millie to take with them at lunch.
‘Hello, Mrs Smith, are you here?’ the child called as she entered the cavernous space. It was filled with rows of stainless steel benches and pots of all shapes and sizes hung overhead like a colony of metal bats.
Doreen Smith was in the coolroom, checking on supplies.
‘Wait there a tick, darling girl. I’ll be out in a moment,’ she called back.
Alice-Miranda stood beside the area of bench that Mrs Smith liked to call her ‘office’. There was a corkboard with recipes and a couple of her favourite photographs, including one of Mrs Smith and her good friend Dolly Oliver at Highton Hall, and another of her grandchildren standing in front of the entrance to Disneyland.
‘Well, hello there,’ the cook said as she emerged from the coolroom.
‘Thank you for my scrumptious cake – and that delicious breakfast. I was a bit surprised to find the crispy bacon with the pancakes,’ said Alice-Miranda.
‘It was my pleasure,’ Mrs Smith replied. ‘You know I developed quite a taste for that myself when I last visited the grandchildren.’
They were interrupted by the telephone ringing.
‘Hang on a tick, dear. I’ll just get that,’ said the cook as she picked it up. ‘Hello Dick, how are you? Really? Oh heavens.’ Mrs Smith inhaled sharply. ‘Is she going to be all right? What a terrible shock. Just let me know what I can do.’ There was a short pause. ‘Oh, that’s easy, no trouble at all.’
‘Is something the matter?’ Alice-Miranda asked as Mrs Smith placed the phone back in its cradle and sat down on the stool. Her shoulders slumped as if someone had just pricked her with a pin and all the air was leaking out.
‘That was Dick Wigglesworth, the stable foreman at Chesterfield Downs. Evelyn Pepper was found unconscious in the tack room this morning with a broken hip and a nasty bump on the head,’ Mrs Smith began.
‘Poor Miss Pepper. That’s terrible. What happened to her?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘It seems she’d gone to get some gear but the light was broken. She must have tripped in the dark. Mr Wigglesworth found her. She’s been taken off to hospital in Downsfordvale and will likely be there a couple of weeks. If I know Evelyn, she’ll be beside herself. Chesterfield Downs won’t be the same without her. She rides track work, trains all those horses and feeds everyone who works there too,’ Mrs Smith explained.
‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘That’s what Mr Wigglesworth phoned about. He wondered if I might be able to organise some meals for them, just lunch and some afternoon tea. Which of course I can do in a heartbeat.’
‘Well, I’m going to write Miss Pepper a card this afternoon. I’ve only met her a couple of times but Bonaparte took a real shine to her when we were riding through the village last term. And you know Bony doesn’t like many people straight away. Come to think of it, Bony doesn’t like many people, full stop.’
‘I’m sure Evelyn would love a cheery card.’ Mrs Smith stood up and glanced at the kitchen clock. ‘But I think you should be on your way to class, even if it is your birthday.’
‘Oh, I almost forgot. I came to ask if Millie and I could have some sandwiches to take to the stables at lunchtime, please. We want to check on Bony and Chops and spend some time with Mr Walt before he leaves at the end of the week,’ said Alice-Miranda. ‘And I’ve got hockey practice this afternoon and a drama lesson tomorrow after school so we can’t ride until at least Wednesday.’
‘How does ham and a little dash of mustard, some tomato, Swiss cheese and lettuce sound?’ Doreen Smith asked.
‘Perfect, thank you,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
The child exited the kitchen through the back door and walked across the cobblestoned courtyard to her class.
‘I wish Wally wasn’t leaving,’ said Millie. She and Alice-Miranda were munching on their sandwiches as they headed for the stables.
‘Yes, but he said from the time he arrived that it’s been his dream to work with thoroughbreds in a racing stable,’ Alice-Miranda replied.
‘But why? What’s wrong with ponies like Chops? Who’d want to work with a single breed when you can have twelve varieties in one special little package?’
Alice-Miranda laughed. ‘Mmm . . . I can see your point.’ She held her hands out as if weighing each option. ‘Working with Rockstar, the most successful racehorse on the planet, or working with Chops, the laziest pony on earth.’
‘Hey, don’t talk about my boy like that – he’s got feelings too, you know.’ Millie smiled, and then thought about it a bit more. ‘No, scratch that – he can’t feel anything. I have to kick him so much to get him moving, I think he must have armour underneath that furry coat of his.’
Alice-Miranda giggled.
As the girls entered the cool stone building, Bonaparte let out an ear-piercing whinny and hung his head over the stall door.
‘Hello to you too.’ Alice-Miranda grabbed a couple of carrots from the feed room and strode over to the stall. She thrust the orange vegetables towards Bonaparte, who ignored them completely and reached out to nibble the birthday garland on Alice-Miranda’s head. It was tradition to wear the flowers all day.
‘Excuse me.’ Alice-Miranda pulled back to see Bonaparte chewing on a purple iris, which he promptly spat onto the ground.
‘That will teach you,’ she chided. ‘Not very tasty, I assume.’
Chops, on the other hand, was dozing, completely oblivious to the arrival of his mistress.
‘Hey lazybones,’ Millie called as she went to get a brush and comb from the tack room. Chops opened one eye and then closed it again.
Wally Whitstable appeared pushing an empty wheelbarrow.
‘Good afternoon, girls, and happy birthday, Miss Alice-Miranda,’ the lad said with a nod. He deposited the wheelbarrow into an empty stall and retrieved a rake that was leaning against the wall. ‘I can’t imagine those two ponies of yours being more different. Chops here has been sleeping all morning and that bloke –’ he pointed an accusing finger towards Bonaparte – ‘has been trying to break out of his stall. Rotten little monster almost took my hand off before and I was gonna give him a treat. But he can forget that now.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Alice-Miranda apologised on Bonaparte’s behalf. ‘I thought his manners had improved lately but obviously not.’
‘If you’re going to work with racehorses, you’d better get used to it,’ Millie piped up from inside the stall where she was combing Chops’s matted mane.
‘I suppose you’re right there,’ Wally agreed.
‘When do you start your new job?’ Millie asked.
‘On the weekend,’ Wally replied. ‘But I don’t want to leave Charlie in the lurch, either. He had a lad lined up to take my place here but the boy’s been offered a spot at a farm in Downsfordvale that’s closer to his home and so now Charlie’s back to square one.’
‘No doubt Mr Charles will find someone. This is such a wonderful opportunity for you, Mr Walt,’ Alice-Miranda said reassuringly as she walked over to the tack room and emerged with a hoof pick. She placed her floral garland on a small table in the main part of the stables before she opened Bony’s stall door, walked inside and ran her hand down his foreleg. ‘Have you heard about Miss Pepper?’
‘No, what about Miss Pepper?’ Wally replied.
‘I’m afraid she had an accident this morning and broke her hip. She’s going to be in hospital for a couple of weeks,’ said Alice-Miranda.
Wally winced. ‘Goodness, that sounds bad. I wonder who’ll be riding Rockstar now.’
‘Maybe you will,’ Alice-Miranda said.
‘No way! I’m not riding him. Everyone says he’s the meanest racehorse in the world, except with Miss Pepper. I heard he even bit Her Majesty last time she was here.’
‘Oh goodness, really? Aunty Gee would have given him a big telling-off for that sort of behaviour. I think she’s very proud of him, most of the time,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘She says he’s the best horse she’s ever had. Anyway, I think you’ll have a wonderful time at Chesterfield Downs and hopefully we can come over and visit.’
‘I’d like that,’ Wally replied. ‘Dick Wigglesworth, the stable foreman, has known me since I was a boy. He’s a good fellow and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you popping in to say hello. Besides, isn’t Queen Georgiana your aunty or something anyway?’
‘She’s Mummy’s and Aunt Charlotte’s godmother and Granny’s best friend since kindergarten,’ said Alice-Miranda.
‘And she and I are like that.’ Millie crossed her fingers and held them in the air. ‘She gave me a hug on board the Octavia and you know Her Majesty doesn’t just hug anyone.’
Wally laughed at the thought of Queen Georgiana offering random hugs to strangers. He glanced at his watch.
‘Hadn’t you two better be getting back to class? You don’t want to miss your afternoon lessons,’ he said.
‘I do,’ Millie groaned. ‘I’ve got PE and Miss Wall is making us run cross country. I’d rather do Jacinta’s dirty laundry than run that course.’
Alice-Miranda let go of Bony’s foot and ducked around under his head. She popped up hanging over the stable door. ‘You know, if Charlie doesn’t find someone, Millie and I can take over here for a little while. I don’t mind mucking out,’ she offered.
‘Pooh! Speak for yourself.’ Millie hauled herself up onto Chops’s bare back. ‘I’d rather go riding.’
‘We can still ride,’ Alice-Miranda said, ‘but they’re our ponies. We should be looking after them.’
Millie grinned mischievously. ‘Maybe we can get Sloane to give us a hand.’
‘I think you’ve got more chance of Chops winning the Queen’s Cup,’ Alice-Miranda giggled.
‘You’re right about that,’ Wally nodded.
On Wednesday after school Alice-Miranda and Millie saddled up their ponies and headed out for a short ride. There wasn’t enough time to go on their favourite route over to Gertrude’s Grove, so instead they headed in the opposite direction, down along the river to Duck’s Flat.
‘We should go and see Miss Hephzibah and Miss Henrietta on the weekend,’ Alice-Miranda turned and called to Millie, who was having trouble getting Chops to keep up.
‘Caledonia Manor looks incredible. They should be ready to open the teaching college soon,’ Millie called back. She gave Chops a sharp kick in the flank, to little effect. ‘I think I might retire Chops soon and start riding Stumps instead.’
Chops seemed to take this rather personally and launched himself into a fast-paced canter alongside Bonaparte, who turned his head and attempted to give the old fellow a nip.
‘Bonaparte!’ Alice-Miranda tugged sharply on the reins. ‘Behave yourself, you naughty little beast.’
‘I’m not stopping now,’ Millie shouted as Chops surged forward, picking up the pace and belting off across the paddock. ‘Race you to the pond.’
Alice-Miranda urged Bony into a canter and then a gallop. She liked the way the crisp afternoon air prickled her face.
Millie reached their destination first, as Alice-Miranda knew she would. Although Chops impersonated a sloth most days, when he got going there was no way Bonaparte could beat him. Millie leapt out of the saddle and led the pony to the edge of the pond for a drink. Alice-Miranda did the same and the two girls stood side by side as Bony and Chops slurped the cool water.
On the far side of the pond swam a brown mother duck followed by five fuzzy ducklings.
‘Oh, they’re so sweet,’ said Alice-Miranda as she watched the little ones race to stay close to their mother.
Then something else caught her attention.
‘Do you see that?’ She tapped Millie on the shoulder and pointed.
‘What?’ said Millie, squinting into the distance.
‘I think it’s the top of a tent,’ Alice-Miranda decided. ‘We should go and say hello. The campers probably don’t know they’re on private property.’
Alice-Miranda gathered Bony’s reins and led him around the edge of the pond and over the stream via an ancient stone causeway. Millie and Chops followed.
‘Hello, is anyone here?’ Alice-Miranda called as she approached the camp site. A two-man tent was pitched beside a scrubby bush. Wisps of smoke rose from a camp fire and beside it, a young man was sitting on a log and cooking sausages. There was a billy boiling on the fire too.
‘Hello,’ Alice-Miranda called again.
‘Oh, hello yourself.’ The fellow stood up. He was short and stocky with dark hair and tanned skin and he had the most unusual tawny-coloured eyes. Alice-Miranda thought he looked about the same age as Mr Walt, probably late teens or early twenties.
‘That smells delicious.’ Alice-Miranda nodded at the sausages as they sizzled away. She held out her hand. ‘My name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr . . .’
She waited for an answer.
The man’s brow wrinkled. ‘Um.’ He looked at the fire and then at her, then down at the ground. ‘Billy. Billy, uh . . .’ He hesitated for another moment. ‘Boots, Billy Boots.’ He stepped forward and took Alice-Miranda’s tiny hand in his.
‘Well, it’s lovely to meet
you, Mr Boots,’ Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘This is Millicent Jane McLoughlinMcTavish-McNoughton-McGill, but she prefers Millie.’
‘I can see why,’ said Billy. ‘That’s more than a mouthful.’
Millie said hello and reached forward to shake the young man’s hand too.
‘Are you on holiday?’ Millie asked, glancing around at the camp site.
‘Sort of. Bit of a boy’s own adventure,’ he replied. ‘I’m picking up some work here and there. Finding my fortune I suppose you could say.’
‘Oh,’ said Alice-Miranda. ‘What sort of work do you do?’
‘I’m not fussy.’
And then like a lightning bolt, Alice-Miranda remembered. ‘Mr Boots, are you any good with horses?’
‘I’ve had some experience and I like ’em well enough,’ he replied.
‘Mr Walt is leaving us at the end of the week and we need someone to help out at the stables at school. You should come and see Mr Charles about the job. I’m not sure if he has anyone lined up but it can’t hurt to ask,’ Alice-Miranda fizzed. Then she stopped for a moment, frowning. ‘But I don’t think you can live here. I mean, it’s a lovely spot to camp but I can’t imagine that Miss Grimm will be very happy about it.’
‘I think there’s a flat above the stables,’ Millie offered. ‘Wally doesn’t live there because he lives in the village with his parents.’
‘Oh, it’s too perfect for words,’ said Alice-Miranda, beaming.
Billy nodded slowly. ‘Yeah, it sounds all right to me, I suppose.’
Millie nudged her friend. ‘Come on, we need to get going, Alice-Miranda. It’s getting dark.’
‘I hadn’t realised it was so late,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘But why don’t you come to the school tomorrow, Mr Boots, and ask to speak with Mr Charles Weatherly. I’ll let him know that Millie and I met you. Probably best to head over about morning tea time – that’s eleven o’clock.’
Billy reached out to give Bonaparte a pat. Bony bared his teeth, and then did the strangest thing. He licked Billy’s arm.
Alice-Miranda Shows the Way Page 2