Alice-Miranda in Paris 7

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Alice-Miranda in Paris 7 Page 11

by Jacqueline Harvey


  ‘Oui. Of course. A very bad business,’ he replied.

  ‘Well, I picked this up on the train this afternoon.’ She placed the paper on the bench in front of him and stood up on her tippy toes.

  Under the headline was a photo of Christian Fontaine and a smaller photo of a woman. She had long straight hair and was very thin and pretty.

  Monsieur Crabbe scanned the page. ‘That woman was married to Monsieur Fontaine but she disappeared many years ago after he caught her stealing. Although it was never proven in court – this article says that there is still a warrant out for her arrest. It was a terrible scandal. They had been like pin-ups for love. Their photographs were all over the place and their business was very famous. It did not make any sense at all. He says that it is the same thing happening all over again.’

  Alice-Miranda frowned. ‘Does it say what she stole?’

  ‘Yes, she was selling his designs and fabric to people who were making copies,’ Monsieur Crabbe replied.

  ‘I wish we’d been able to meet Monsieur Christian today but we didn’t even see him. He looks so sad in that picture.’

  ‘It is not for you to worry about, little one. The police are working on the case.’

  ‘Of course,’ Alice-Miranda nodded and looked at the photographs again. ‘It’s just that she looks sort of familiar.’

  ‘Really? Can you think why?’ the man asked.

  Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘No, it’s just something about her.’

  ‘Well, if you remember, you must tell me and we can alert the police,’ Monsieur Crabbe said. Alice-Miranda waved goodbye to the man and raced upstairs. Something about those pictures niggled at her. She had a strange feeling about that woman she simply couldn’t shake.

  ‘My crepes were delicious,’ Alice-Miranda remarked as she bounded along beside Sep on their way back to the hotel that evening. ‘Chicken and mushroom is almost as good as lemon and sugar.’

  ‘Nutella is still my favourite,’ the boy replied. ‘I think I might move to Paris. Chocolate crepes three times a day sounds perfect to me.’

  The group formed a long line, with Miss Grimm in the lead and Professor Winterbottom bringing up the rear. They were spread out for quite a distance, snaking all the way back to the restaurant. As Alice-Miranda and Sep rounded the corner into their street he noticed the man he’d seen earlier in the week, standing out the front of the townhouses.

  Millie had caught up and was walking beside the pair. She noticed the man too. ‘Hey, isn’t that the guy who told us off when we were at the park the other afternoon?’

  Alice-Miranda looked. ‘Yes, I think so. Perhaps he’ll be in a better mood this evening.’

  ‘I doubt it. He was horrible,’ said Millie. ‘He certainly didn’t like children or dogs. Not one little bit.’

  Sep glanced at the girls. ‘What do you mean he told you off?’

  ‘You know, the first day we were at the park. We took Lulu for a walk and there was a secret part to the garden. All of a sudden Lulu started growling and barking and then that man came through a gate and told us to get lost,’ Millie explained.

  ‘I saw him the first night we were here. He was carrying long rolls of something out of a car and into the basement of that townhouse there.’ Sep pointed at the place with the black door. ‘That’s right! Before that he was having a pretty big argument with someone over the phone. It was mostly in French but then I remember he said something about a chinchilla – I thought it was a weird thing to say.’

  As the children drew closer, Alice-Miranda called ‘Bonjour, monsieur.’

  ‘Bonjour, mademoiselle.’ The man nodded at her and dipped his cap but his expression remained stony.

  After the trio had passed him, Alice-Miranda whispered, ‘We must have caught him on a bad day before.’

  ‘I suppose so, but he wasn’t exactly friendly just then,’ Millie replied.

  Alice-Miranda was thinking. She turned to Sep. ‘Do you remember if he said anything else in English?’

  ‘No,’ Sep replied. ‘He was across the road and he was speaking French most of the time. Why?’

  ‘No reason,’ Alice-Miranda said. But her mind was ticking. She thought about Monsieur Fontaine’s story in the newspaper. It did seem like a very strange coincidence that the man would be so upset about a small South American rodent.

  ‘And he took the rolls into the basement of that house there?’ Alice-Miranda pointed.

  Sep nodded. ‘Who are you? Inspector Clouseau?’

  Alice-Miranda shook her head. Suddenly she turned and ran back towards the man.

  ‘Alice-Miranda, what are you doing?’ Millie called after her.

  She reached the fellow and stopped.

  ‘Bonjour, monsieur,’ Alice-Miranda said again. She studied his pointy face.

  ‘Bonjour,’ the man replied. His brow wrinkled slightly as he pondered the reason for her return.

  ‘My name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones.’ She held out her hand.

  The man looked at her for a moment but did not respond.

  ‘Monsieur?’ she asked. ‘Do you have a name?’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, but didn’t offer it.

  ‘Monsieur,’ she began, ‘my friends and I are staying just over there at l’Hôtel Lulu. It’s a lovely place and Monsieur and Madame Crabbe are wonderful hosts. We met the other afternoon. Do you remember?’

  He glanced at her face, shrugged and then looked away into the distance.

  ‘We were in the park and we had Monsieur Crabbe’s little dog, who is also called Lulu, with us. She was rather upset about something and you came out through a gate,’ Alice-Miranda reminded him. She wondered if he really couldn’t remember or if he was just avoiding the conversation.

  ‘Ah, oui. The barking dog. I was, how you say it? Not happy. I had a headache and your dog was causing me pain,’ the man said matter-of-factly.

  Alice-Miranda frowned. ‘Oh, I am sorry. We didn’t mean to upset you,’ she said. ‘I’m glad you didn’t call the police.’

  The man cleared his throat. ‘I wasn’t really going to call the police,’ he said.

  ‘I am glad about that,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I’m sure the police are far too busy dealing with real criminals.’

  ‘What criminals?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, whoever has stolen that expensive fabric from Monsieur Christian, for example,’ said Alice-Miranda. She watched his face closely.

  ‘What fabric?’ His voice was rock-steady.

  ‘The vicuna. But it sounds like the police have some good leads. I’ve heard that the police think Monsieur Christian’s ex-wife is part of it. Well, it’s nice to see you again, monsieur.’

  The man simply nodded, then walked down the steps into the basement.

  Alice-Miranda stared at the door. She must have got it wrong, she thought. The man hadn’t been feeling well, that’s all. But as she ran back towards her friends she had a strange feeling that there was more to him than met the eye.

  ‘What did he say?’ Millie asked.

  ‘He said that he had a headache when we saw him in the park. That’s why he was so upset,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  ‘You don’t look convinced,’ said Sep.

  Alice-Miranda tried to shake off her strange feeling. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing,’ she said. ‘Come on, we don’t want to miss out on Monsieur Crabbe and Mr Trout’s musical extravaganza, do we?’

  ‘Really?’ Millie rolled her eyes. ‘I think we do.’

  Alice-Miranda grabbed her friend’s hand and they ran along the footpath with Sep close behind.

  Millie was sure that there was something Alice-Miranda wasn’t telling them. She would have to find out later.

  Charlotte Highton-Smith sat at the computer scanning the contents of her mail. Her sister was sipping a cup of tea and reading the morning newspaper on the sofa behind her.

  Charlotte giggled.

  ‘What are you laughing at?’ Cecelia looked up an
d asked.

  ‘Rosie Hunter’s first article. It’s a general overview of what happens at Fashion Week – you know, the chaos and things celebrities will do to get the best positions at the shows. She was reminding me of that hideous woman at reception yesterday. When I checked in she was demanding that her mistress’s bath be filled with goat’s milk warmed to 44 degrees. I thought I was hearing things but no, that was the request.’

  ‘Who are these people?’ Cecelia giggled. ‘That’s a new one. But do you remember the first year Mummy and Daddy brought us to the shows and that ghastly pop star had her ridiculous hat fashioned from a full-sized ironing board. She had people diving for cover every time she turned around.’

  ‘And didn’t she have a pet rabbit in her handbag, too? I can’t imagine how it just sat there. Probably loved the entertainment, actually,’ Charlotte added.

  ‘It sounds like you’re happy with Rosie’s first effort, then?’ Cecelia quizzed.

  ‘Oh, yes. I’m disappointed she didn’t make it to Versailles yesterday for Christian’s show. But I think this article will make a splash and then hopefully she’ll be feeling better and can get out to cover more things.’

  ‘Poor woman can’t help being unwell, Cha,’ Cecelia said, ‘and it sounds as if she’s keen to impress.’

  Charlotte stared at the screen. She read the last few lines of Rosie’s email and then read them again.

  ‘So are you okay if we leave in about half an hour? We can take a taxi over to the children’s hotel in St Germain and then we can walk from there,’ Cecelia said.

  Charlotte didn’t respond. She was still engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

  ‘Charlotte, did you hear what I said?’ Cecelia asked a little louder.

  ‘Sorry, Cee, I was just reading something that Rosie had written in her email. She’s left me a bit of a teaser.’

  ‘What is it?’ Cecelia asked.

  ‘She hasn’t said much, just that if things unravel the way she’s expecting them to, we’ll have a huge scoop,’ Charlotte explained.

  ‘I wonder what she means by that? A huge collection, a huge frock, a huge designer? I hope the woman’s not trying to be too clever. I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,’ said Cecelia. ‘Now are you sure about today?’

  Cecelia Highton-Smith had arranged with Miss Grimm to take Alice-Miranda and Lucas out. The headmistress had scheduled a quiet day – the group might venture to the park or on a short walk but she didn’t want the children to be too tired before their performance at the mass at Notre Dame that evening. Cecelia had been very surprised to learn too that the Finkelsteins were in town. She was thrilled when Morrie gave his permission for Lucinda to join their outing. Sep, Sloane, Jacinta and Millie were coming along too, so in all they would be looking after seven children.

  ‘Oh yes, I can’t wait to see the kids. But you haven’t said where we’re going yet,’ her sister replied.

  ‘Somewhere Mummy and Daddy used to take us when we were girls. You always loved it,’ Cecelia said mysteriously.

  ‘Okay, if you say so.’ Charlotte hit send. She had replied to Rosie that she loved the article and it would be posted on the Highton’s website immediately. As for the other teaser, she didn’t comment. Better not to engage with the woman on that until there was something to comment about.

  The children were gathered in the dining room for their breakfast when Miss Grimm pulled Alice-Miranda aside. She ushered her upstairs into the hotel foyer.

  ‘I know that you were looking forward to spending the day with Lucinda but I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans,’ the headmistress informed her.

  ‘Really? Did Mr Finkelstein change his mind?’ Alice-Miranda asked. ‘I’m sure I could call and convince him that Lucinda will be perfectly safe with us for the day. I mean, you’re a headmistress and we also have a headmaster with the group too and everyone knows you have to be more responsible than almost anyone in the world. Except perhaps someone like Mr Grayson, who looks after a whole country.’ Alice-Miranda was referring to the President of the United States, whom she had met at her aunt’s wedding earlier in the year.

  ‘Oh, you’re very kind, young lady, but I’m afraid things have changed,’ Miss Grimm said with a frown. The headmistress was facing the hotel entrance and had just seen Alice-Miranda’s mother enter.

  ‘I hope you’re not too disappointed, darling,’ Cecelia Highton-Smith added.

  Alice-Miranda spun around. ‘Mummy!’

  Cecelia scooped the tiny child into her arms. Charlotte walked through the door just as Alice-Miranda’s feet touched the floor again.

  ‘Aunt Charlotte,’ she cried and raced towards her favourite aunt. Charlotte leaned down to hug the child. She then kissed her on both cheeks, on the tip of her nose and on her forehead, just as they always did. It was their own special greeting.

  Alice-Miranda frowned. ‘Am I too heavy now that I’m eight?’ she asked, referring to the fact that Charlotte usually picked her up and twirled her in her arms.

  ‘Oh, darling.’ Charlotte smiled. ‘It’s not that at all. I just have to be a little bit careful at the moment.’

  ‘Did you hurt yourself?’ Alice-Miranda stepped back and looked at her beloved aunt.

  ‘No, nothing like that. But where’s Lucas? I’d like to talk to you both.’

  Miss Grimm was way ahead of her and had already gone downstairs to get the lad.

  He walked into the foyer and was stunned to see his stepmother and her sister.

  ‘Charlotte, what are you doing here?’ Lucas hurried over and gave her a hug.

  ‘Hello, handsome. Cecelia and I thought we’d surprise the two of you. We went to a show yesterday expecting to see some fabulous new singing group who were supposed to be performing but they didn’t turn up,’ Charlotte teased. ‘It was at the Palace of Versailles, too. Imagine that!’

  ‘We were there. They moved us to this out-of-the-way place and nobody saw us,’ Lucas protested. ‘But what are you doing in Paris? Is Dad here too?’

  ‘Cee and I decided to spend the week together and see some of the shows. And of course your shows too – if you ever bother to turn up.’ Charlotte winked. ‘And no, your father is in the wilds of Colorado shooting scenes for the movie.’

  Madame Crabbe was watching the scene play out from the reception desk. She was trying to keep quiet but could no longer contain herself. She practically burst through the reception counter as she scurried over to Charlotte.

  ‘Excuse me, madame,’ she said, ‘I couldn’t help hearing. Are you married to this man?’ She was holding the photograph of her and Lawrence Ridley.

  Charlotte studied the picture. It was her husband all right. And the woman in front of her.

  ‘Oui, madame,’ Charlotte said kindly. She thought Lawrence looked a little overwhelmed but she wasn’t about to say so.

  ‘You are a beautiful woman. And if he can’t have me then he deserves someone as beautiful as you. And your children, they are beautiful too.’ Mrs Crabbe glanced at Alice-Miranda and Lucas, who both grinned.

  ‘Thank you,’ Charlotte giggled. ‘I see you’ve met Lawrence.’

  ‘Oui. He is a gentleman and I adore his movies.’

  ‘Tell her the truth, wife,’ shouted Monsieur Crabbe, who was watching the interaction from behind the desk. ‘You adore her husband full stop, amen. But I have told her that a handsome man like Monsieur Ridley will not be interested in an old woman like her.’

  ‘Monsieur Crabbe, that’s horrible,’ Alice-Miranda scolded. ‘Madame Crabbe is lovely and young and she’s very beautiful. You are lucky to have her. And she’s lucky to have you too, of course.’

  ‘Merci, Alice-Miranda. You see what I have to put up with,’ Madame Crabbe tutted, and shook her head. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, madame.’ She took Charlotte’s hand in hers and drew in a sharp breath. ‘You and Monsieur Ridley will have a beautiful baby too.’

  Charlotte’s eyes widened.

  ‘How did y
ou know?’ she looked at Madame Crabbe.

  The woman shrugged. ‘Just a feeling, but it seems I was right.’

  ‘What baby?’ Lucas asked.

  Alice-Miranda beamed. ‘That’s why you didn’t pick me up. You’re having a baby!’

  Charlotte looked at Lucas and Alice-Miranda and nodded.

  ‘That’s fantastic!’ Lucas exclaimed. ‘I’m going to be a big brother.’

  ‘And I’m going to be a big cousin,’ Alice-Miranda added.

  ‘Well, there’s a little bit more to it than that,’ Charlotte gulped. ‘You see, Lawrence and I are having . . .’ She held up two fingers and whispered, ‘twins.’

  Alice-Miranda and Lucas looked at each other, their mouths gaping open.

  Lucas finally found his voice. ‘Two?’

  Charlotte nodded. Cecelia was standing beside her sister, watching the children’s reactions.

  ‘That’s awesome!’ Lucas reached out and hugged his stepmother, then released her quickly. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Sorry, little guys,’ he said, staring at Charlotte’s middle.

  Charlotte shook her head. ‘I think these babies are going to be tougher than you think.’ A tear wobbled in the corner of her eye. ‘I know your father wanted to be here to tell you too, Lucas, but he’ll be so thrilled that you’re happy.’

  Lucas looked surprised. ‘Of course I’m happy. I’ve always wanted a brother or sister. I just wanted to know who my dad was to start with, and now I have all of you. It’s unreal!’

  ‘Your father is here, Monsieur Lucas.’ Madame Crabbe held up the photograph of her and Lawrence. ‘And he is smiling . . . all the time.’

  Everyone laughed.

  Alice-Miranda hugged her cousin. ‘It’s going to be great, Lucas,’ she said as she stepped back. ‘We’ll be able to look after the babies and give them their bottles and change their nappies.’

  He wrinkled his nose. ‘You can take care of the nappies, little cousin.’

  Miss Grimm congratulated Charlotte, as did Madame and Monsieur Crabbe.

 

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