A light flickered as they reached the bottom, and Alice-Miranda realized that it was the television in the side sitting room. She pressed her finger to her lips and started across the kitchen floor. There was a loud grunt, and a snort. Alice-Miranda jumped as she realized that Shilly was sitting in her favorite armchair. The girls froze. And then there was a sound like air escaping from a balloon. Jacinta stifled a laugh. Shilly began snoring very loudly.
The girls reached the outside kitchen door and Alice-Miranda gently turned the handle. It wasn’t locked. The doors never were. On the side porch the girls allowed their eyes to adjust to the light. A golden moon hung in a pillow of clouds, gently illuminating the garden around them. The sky was scattered with diamonds.
“Where did you see him?” Alice-Miranda whispered.
Jacinta pointed toward the walled garden.
The girls crept around the veranda, eager to avoid the crunchy gravel driveway. When they reached the grass, Alice-Miranda grabbed Jacinta by the hand and they shot off into the garden—in search of what exactly, Alice-Miranda still did not really know.
They reached the cherub fountain and at last Alice-Miranda felt it was safe to talk.
“What’s going on?” she demanded.
Jacinta’s eyes were wide with excitement. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would do some stretching on the floor in my bedroom. But then I heard a door click and I thought it might have been you, so I peeked outside for a better look. But it wasn’t you, it was Mr. Ridley and he was wearing a black cloak and carrying a yellow folder. He was checking to see that there was no one in the hallway, so I quickly ducked my head back inside and waited until he had gone. Then I followed him and he went downstairs and out the front door. I was a bit worried about going after him in the dark on my own, so I ran back to the bedroom to see if I could track where he went from the window.”
“He probably couldn’t sleep—like you—and me too now,” Alice-Miranda replied.
“That’s what I thought to begin with, but then I saw a light coming from the field beyond the walled garden. And then there was an outline of a figure. He was meeting someone.”
Alice-Miranda’s mind began to race. Who would he be meeting in the middle of the night? Didn’t Daddy say that it was just a coincidence that he ran into Mr. Ridley at the club? It was rather strange.
“What do you think he’s doing?” Jacinta sounded a little worried—but mostly excited now.
“I don’t know.” Alice-Miranda bit her lip. “Perhaps we should go and see if we can find him?” She took Jacinta’s hand and they scurried to the door in the stone wall, which led through to the long meadow. Alice-Miranda was about to turn the brass handle when they heard voices. They were getting closer. Jacinta grabbed Alice-Miranda’s hand and wrenched her behind a nearby camelia hedge.
The handle turned. Alice-Miranda began to stand up when Jacinta pulled her arm and she fell with a thump onto the lawn.
“What did you do that for?” asked Alice-Miranda as she dusted herself off and kneeled on the ground.
“Sorry,” Jacinta mouthed. “I don’t think you should go out there. What if he’s up to no good?”
Alice-Miranda was not convinced. Jacinta kneeled up too and tried to part the leaves to get a better look, but there was too much foliage. The girls had to rely on their ears instead.
“Thank you,” came Lawrence’s voice. “This is worth more to me than gold.”
The other voice sounded like a woman’s. If the speakers took just a few more steps into the garden, the girls might have heard better.
Jacinta screwed up her nose and looked at Alice-Miranda, who was shaking her head. Neither of them could work out what the woman was saying.
“I’d better get back,” Lawrence whispered. “Don’t want anyone to miss me.”
“… maybe tomorrow or the next day …” was all Alice-Miranda could make out from the female voice.
“Just let me know …” Lawrence closed the door and swept back toward the house.
Alice-Miranda popped up first, followed by Jacinta.
“What was all that?”
“ ‘Worth more than gold?’ I wonder what he was talking about?” Alice-Miranda had a twisting feeling in her stomach. “We’d better get back to the house.”
The girls walked to the edge of the garden and waited until they saw Lawrence disappearing through the front door and up the stairs.
Back in the safety of Alice-Miranda’s bedroom, the pair lay side by side whispering about what they had just seen and heard.
“You should tell your parents in the morning.” Jacinta pulled the covers up under her chin.
“Why don’t we just ask Mr. Ridley?” Alice-Miranda suggested.
“But what if he’s up to no good?” Jacinta replied. “He’s probably a spy or something—he did seem to know lots of things about African governments at dinnertime.” She gasped. “Oh, how romantic.”
Alice-Miranda made up her mind. “Well, I’m going to talk to him as soon as I can. Perhaps I could go now. I’m sure there is a perfectly good explanation for his midnight meeting.” She glanced at the clock beside her bed. It was almost one a.m.—perhaps a bit late to be bothering their guest. “Do you want to stay here tonight?” she asked, turning to her friend. But Jacinta was already fast asleep.
Alice-Miranda was awake early. She had dreamt of all manner of strange things, and it took her a minute to remember that their nocturnal adventure into the garden had in fact actually happened. Jacinta was still asleep. Her delicate even breaths were occasionally punctuated by loud grunts that would rival Shilly’s best efforts. Alice-Miranda was impressed.
Not wanting to wake her, Alice-Miranda grabbed a clean shirt, a pair of socks and the jeans that were hanging over the back of her chair and crept to the bathroom. She dressed quickly and exited through Jacinta’s adjoining room.
She was determined to have a chat with Mr. Ridley before the whole house was awake.
Tiptoeing along the hallway to the blue room, Alice-Miranda raised her tiny hand and knocked ever so gently. From inside she thought she could hear papers rustling, so she knocked again—a little harder. She waited, just a moment, and then turned the handle.
“Mr. Ridley, are you there? It’s me, Alice-Miranda,” she announced. “I wondered if we could have a quick chat?” She leaned around the door to take a peek inside. The four-poster bed was empty and unmade. The curtains were billowing and there were papers scattered all over the floor.
Alice-Miranda climbed up onto the writing table to shut the window. She pulled hard. The giant frame squeaked and shuddered as she hauled with all her might. It finally released and hit the sill with a thud. Alice-Miranda snipped the brass latch before attempting to push the curtains back behind the desk as best she could manage.
There was a yellow folder on the floor—perhaps it was the same one Jacinta had seen Mr. Ridley carrying last night. Alice-Miranda wasn’t going to look at the papers; she knew it was wrong to mind other people’s private business. But Shilly would have a fit if she saw the mess. Anyway, they looked like handwritten letters and she still wasn’t very good at reading fancy curly-swirly writing. Alice-Miranda shuffled the pages back together and was about to place them in the folder when something caught her eye—a name at the bottom of one of the papers.
Kitty. Now, where had she heard that name lately? And then she remembered. What a strange coincidence, she thought. Her mind began to race. Perhaps Lawrence’s meeting her father in the club yesterday afternoon wasn’t just an accident after all.
Alice-Miranda placed the folder on the writing table and promptly left the room.
She scampered down the kitchen stairs, hoping to find Mr. Ridley at breakfast. Mrs. Oliver was bustling about stirring pots and buttering toast. The scrubbed table was set for five, but Alice-Miranda noticed that two spots were already playing host to dirty bowls and plates.
“Hello, my darling girl.” Dolly turned from the steaming pot of porridge
simmering on the stove. “You’re up bright and early. Jacinta still asleep?”
“Yes, I didn’t want to wake her. I mean, it is holidays, after all.” Alice-Miranda pulled out a chair and sat down. “Have Daddy and Mummy had breakfast already?” she asked, surveying the empty plates opposite.
“No, it was your father and Mr. Ridley up early. Shilly and I were having a quiet start to the day, enjoying some tea and toast with a rather thick helping of Mrs. Smith’s cherry jam, might I add, when they clattered downstairs. I don’t know what happened last night but Shilly turned the color of those apples there”—Mrs. Oliver pointed at the bowl of Red Delicious in the middle of the table—“and immediately made an excuse that she needed to start on polishing the silver in the dining room. At this hour. Can you imagine? Anyway, they’ve gone for a ride and I don’t think they plan to be back for quite some time. Your father mentioned something about lunch at the Red Lion, so goodness knows when they’ll return.”
“Oh.” Alice-Miranda’s tone betrayed her disappointment.
“But your father said that when he gets back he will give you girls his undivided attention,” Dolly continued. “He wanted to let you sleep in on your first morning home. Now, what would you like for your breakfast?”
“Umm … scrambled eggs, please,” Alice-Miranda replied. “If that’s not too much trouble. I can have porridge if it’s easier,” she added.
“Get off with you, young lady. You know it’s no bother, and if the day should arrive that it were, I would find myself a cottage and move there in the morn,” Dolly quipped. “Now sit down and pour yourself some of that juice. Mr. Greening picked those oranges just yesterday.”
Alice-Miranda filled a tumbler.
At that moment Cecelia Highton-Smith appeared on the stairs. She was dressed for action, as she would call it, in jeans and a pin-striped long-sleeved shirt. Alice-Miranda knew this could mean only one thing—some or other room was about to get the once-over.
“Morning, darling.” Cecelia kissed the top of Alice-Miranda’s head and sat down opposite her. “You’re up early. I thought you and Jacinta would like a sleep-in. I can always remember the best part of coming home for the holidays was not being woken by that wretched bell.”
Alice-Miranda explained that Jacinta was still asleep but she had hoped to catch Mr. Ridley this morning. There was something she wanted to ask him.
“Darling, please don’t badger Lawrence. I imagine he spends a great deal of his life bombarded with cameras and questions. Can you think what it must be like to live every minute of your life in the spotlight?” Cecelia lectured.
“Of course, Mummy. But … how well does Aunt Charlotte know Mr. Ridley?” Alice-Miranda asked.
“Darling, I’m sure that she would prefer to tell you herself, but seeing that she’s not here—I think that they are very much in love.”
“But how long has Aunt Charlotte known Mr. Ridley?” Alice-Miranda asked before taking a sip of juice.
“I think about six months. But that doesn’t really matter, does it? When it’s right, you just know.” Cecelia smiled.
Alice-Miranda decided then not to tell her mother and father about what she and Jacinta had seen the previous night. She would rather talk to Mr. Ridley herself, and anyway, she didn’t know for sure that he was doing anything wrong. Her parents would only worry, and she didn’t want to cause a fuss if there was nothing to fuss about. And surely there wasn’t.
“What are you doing today, Mummy?” Alice-Miranda asked as Mrs. Oliver placed a plate of creamy scrambled eggs on hot buttered toast in front of her.
“I’m afraid I have rather a lot of work to do. Daisy’s coming over and we’re going to attack the dining room. I think Shilly has asked Mrs. Greening to give us a hand too, and there are some lads coming up from the village, so I won’t be much fun. Why don’t you and Jacinta see what Poppy and Jasper are up to?” Her mother poured herself a cup of tea from the silver pot on the table.
Managing a house the size of Highton Hall demanded strict schedules and almost continuous rosters of dusting, polishing, vacuuming and other maintenance. Alice-Miranda was used to the fact that at least once a week, under Shilly’s military-like command, her mother and Daisy could be found leading the cleaning charge. Cecelia often put her slim figure and stamina down to the never-ending household chores.
“Is Lily helping too?” Alice-Miranda asked, wondering if perhaps she could shed any light on the mystery of Mr. Ridley’s midnight meeting.
“No, darling, I think Lily’s got other things on her mind.”
“The village lads don’t usually come unless there’s something special happening,” Alice-Miranda noted, glancing up at her mother.
“Nothing special, darling. It’s just that Daddy and I have been away quite a lot this last month, so things have been a little neglected. Daisy’s been busy taking care of Granny Bert and Lily has had her hands full too, so we just need to catch up,” Cecelia replied innocently. Alice-Miranda was not convinced.
At that moment Jacinta plodded downstairs.
“Good morning,” Cecelia, Alice-Miranda and Mrs. Oliver chorused.
“Hello, everyone.” Jacinta stretched her arms and yawned. “Oh, excuse me. I don’t know why I’m still tired. I slept like a cat.” A tickle pounced on the tip of Jacinta’s nose and suddenly she sneezed loudly.
“Bless you, my girl,” said Dolly.
“That doesn’t sound too good. I hope you’re not coming down with something, Jacinta. Come and have breakfast.” Cecelia motioned to Jacinta to take her place at the table. “What would you like to eat? You can have anything you want.”
“Goodness,” Jacinta sighed. “That does give me rather a lot of options.” She spied Alice-Miranda’s half-eaten scrambled eggs. “May I have the same as Alice-Miranda, please?” she asked, then yawned again.
“Good choice. Mrs. Oliver makes the best scrambled eggs ever,” Alice-Miranda enthused.
“Did you tell your mother about Mr. Ridley?” Jacinta asked, lowering her voice conspiratorially.
“What about Mr. Ridley, darling?” Cecelia raised her left eyebrow.
Alice-Miranda shot Jacinta a knowing look. “Mr. Ridley’s very handsome, isn’t he, Mummy?”
“Yes, darling. He is,” her mother agreed. “Is that all?”
“That’s all.” Alice-Miranda didn’t like keeping things from her mother, but she really didn’t want to cause a bother. She shook her head at Jacinta, who was about to say something else.
“You are a funny little thing sometimes,” her mother laughed.
Mrs. Oliver placed Jacinta’s perfect scrambled eggs in front of her. Cecelia finished her tea and nibbled at a piece of jam toast while she read the paper.
“What do you want to do today?” Alice-Miranda asked her guest.
“I don’t mind,” Jacinta replied. “Maybe we should go and see Jasper and Poppy. And remember, you promised to take Granny Bert for a wheel around the garden—I just hope she’s in a better mood.”
“Granny Bert in a better mood?” Mrs. Oliver turned from the steaming sink, where she was scrubbing a large frypan. “You’re an optimist if ever I’ve heard one.”
“We’ll go straight after breakfast,” said Alice-Miranda. She stood and carried her plate to the sink. “And hopefully Daddy and Mr. Ridley will be back just after lunch.”
“Thank you, darling girl.” Mrs. Oliver took the dirty dishes and began to stack them in the dishwasher. “Now why don’t you run along and brush your teeth and I will pack a picnic for your lunch. How does that sound?”
“Brilliant!” Alice-Miranda gave Dolly a quick hug. “See you in a minute,” she called to Jacinta.
She bounded upstairs, leaving her mother and Jacinta to finish their breakfast. Cecelia was as unconvinced by her daughter’s earlier answer as Alice-Miranda was of her explanation on the subject of the cleaning. She decided Jacinta might be a more reliable source.
“Jacinta, what did you mean before abo
ut Mr. Ridley? Is there something I should know?” She folded the newspaper and set it to the side.
“No, not at all,” Jacinta replied, a little too quickly for Cecelia’s liking. “Alice-Miranda and I were just talking last night about how gorgeous Mr. Ridley is. No wonder he’s a movie star,” she raved. “Those eyes are soooo dreamy. If only I were ten years older.” She sighed dramatically.
“Yes, he is quite something,” Cecelia agreed. Jacinta’s response satisfied her curiosity for the moment. She had a lot of things on her mind, and besides, Hugh had taken Lawrence out for a ride and she doubted they would be back for hours. Their guest was safe for a little while, at least.
By the time the girls headed off, Jacinta had sneezed another twelve times. Her voice was beginning to croak and Cecelia was worried that she was getting sick. Despite not feeling one hundred percent, Jacinta insisted on carrying the delicious spread Dolly had packed for them.
“If you start to feel worse, Jacinta, please come home,” Cecelia insisted. “We can tuck you up in bed with a pile of books and some tea and crumpets.”
Jacinta didn’t want to admit it, but that sounded rather good. She hated being ill, and it was just her luck to come down with something in the holidays—again. But this time the pleasure of having someone as warm and patient and lovely as Mrs. Oliver or Cecelia looking after her was rather more appealing than she was prepared to confess.
“We’ll go and find Poppy and Jasper first. Maybe we can go for a walk to the stream. And we have an amazing cubby—it’s totally hidden.”
“Aaah-choo!” Jacinta sneezed again and shivered miserably. She didn’t want to disappoint Alice-Miranda, but as always her little friend knew just the right thing to say.
“Bless you. Are you sure you want to go at all?”
“I might feel better for a walk and”—she turned to face Alice-Miranda and mouthed silently—“we have to talk about you-know-what.” Jacinta picked up the pack and hauled it onto her shoulder.
The two girls set off across the lawn toward the walled garden and the scene of the previous night’s mystery meeting.
Alice-Miranda on Vacation Page 6