Alice-Miranda at Sea Page 13

  ‘A letter?’ Millie quizzed.

  ‘Yes. Neville’s parents live right down the road from Sep’s mum and dad, so I wrote to Sloane asking her if she could deliver a letter to them,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  Millie shook her head. ‘Oh, you know she won’t help. She hates us.’

  ‘Well, I can only try,’ said Alice-Miranda. ‘And you know I don’t think Sloane’s as bad as all that.’

  ‘Well, I hope you’re right.’ Millie skidded down the last step onto the metal floor. ‘Isn’t that the engine room?’

  ‘Yes, through there.’ Alice-Miranda pointed at the large steel door. The roar of the engines had settled to a hum as the ship anchored off the coast for the night.

  ‘Is that where he is?’ Millie asked.

  ‘No, he’s at the end of this hallway in a storeroom.’ The smaller girl led Millie down the dimly lit corridor.

  The girls reached the storeroom and Alice-Miranda knocked gently at the door.

  ‘Neville,’ she whispered. ‘It’s me.’ Alice-Miranda turned to Millie. ‘Just wait here for a moment while I explain about you to Neville.’

  The lock turned and Neville opened the door. Alice-Miranda thrust two dinner rolls into his hands and slipped into the room.

  ‘I’m sorry. It’s all I could get at the moment. And I have something to tell you,’ Alice-Miranda began. ‘I know that I promised not to tell anyone about you, but it’s just that my best friend, Millie, saw me coming out of the kitchen and wondered where I was going.’

  Neville gulped. His throat felt as if there was half a loaf of bread wedged in it and he hadn’t yet taken a bite of his rolls. Streams of perspiration began to run down his forehead and he reached inside his pocket and took two puffs of his inhaler.

  ‘It’s all right, Neville, I promise it is. Millie won’t tell anyone about you. She’s just outside and I’d really like you to meet her.’ Alice-Miranda turned around and unsnapped the lock. She beckoned for Millie to come in.

  The red-haired girl scurried inside and Alice-Miranda locked the door behind her. In the yellow light, Neville’s already pale complexion had taken on a chalky texture.

  ‘Hello,’ Millie spoke.

  Neville managed a gulp.

  ‘Millie is my best friend in the whole world, Neville, and she’s very good at keeping secrets. She won’t tell anyone about you,’ Alice-Miranda reassured him.

  ‘She’s right, Neville. I’m good at keeping secrets. One day, when you’re feeling better, we’ll tell you all about Miss Hephzibah. That was a huge secret to keep.’

  Alice-Miranda guided Neville and Millie to sit down so she could explain her attempts at getting Neville some more food.

  ‘You were in the Albert Suite, weren’t you?’ Alice-Miranda said carefully. ‘I think that’s where our friend Jacinta’s father is meant to be. How long were you there?’

  ‘Until this afternoon, when you saw me.’ Neville had finished the first roll and was almost through the second.

  ‘So, how many people know you were there?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  ‘That doctor who came after me and Henderson, the steward,’ Neville replied.

  ‘And you’re sure that’s all?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  Neville nodded.

  ‘I wonder where on earth Mr Headlington-Bear is, then? He’s meant to be on the ship and clearly he’s not if you managed to stay in his suite for the past couple of days. And I wonder why your butler, Henderson, didn’t realise that you were the wrong person. That’s very shabby security,’ Alice-Miranda thought aloud.

  ‘Please,’ Neville begged. ‘You promised that you wouldn’t tell anyone about me. And you’ve already told her.’ He pointed at Millie. ‘I don’t want to get in trouble and I didn’t mean to get on the wrong ship.’

  Fat tears wobbled in Neville’s eyes and spilled onto his cheeks.

  ‘It’s all right, Neville. I take my promises seriously,’ Alice-Miranda soothed. Her mind was racing. She had thought for a moment that perhaps it would be best to let her father in on Neville and his predicament. Daddy would know exactly how to help. But then, she really didn’t want to cause a fuss before the wedding and poor Neville was so upset.

  ‘What about if we go back upstairs to your suite and I have the food delivered there?’ Alice-Miranda asked. ‘We know Mr Headlington-Bear’s not using it, and if you’re missing, Mr Henderson will likely raise the alarm anyway.’

  Neville hunched further under the desk. ‘I can’t go back. That doctor, he knows I shouldn’t be there and he said that he was going to tell the admiral.’

  Alice-Miranda bit her lip. ‘I’m sure that I can explain to Dr Lush. He’s a perfectly reasonable man and I really don’t understand what he would have to gain from telling on you.’

  ‘But –’ Neville began.

  Alice-Miranda put her finger to her lips. She thought she could hear voices – and they were getting closer.

  ‘What’s that?’ Neville whispered.

  ‘Someone’s trying to open the door,’ Alice-Miranda said.

  ‘Quick!’ Millie shoved Neville into the depths of the storeroom and grabbed Alice-Miranda’s hand. The three of them hid underneath a writing desk that was pushed into the back corner. Neville snatched his trumpet case from the floor beside him but remembered that his kit bag was sitting next to the chair he had been sitting on.

  ‘I’ve got to get my bag,’ he wheezed.

  ‘It’s all right, I’ll get it.’ Alice-Miranda raced out and returned with the kit bag just as the key jiggled in the lock and the door opened.

  Neville’s heart hammered inside his chest and Alice-Miranda thought he might pass out. Jammed in together under the desk, the children couldn’t see who it was that had entered the room. Alice-Miranda hoped they were just after some supplies and would disappear again in a minute.

  The door clicked shut and Alice-Miranda heard the lock turn. She was just about to hop up when a voice growled.

  ‘I can’t believe you. Are you completely thick?’

  ‘No!’ another replied.

  Alice-Miranda listened intently.

  In the darkness under the desk Alice-Miranda could see only the whites of Neville’s eyes.

  ‘Why did you pack her into a trumpet case, you idiot? I’d have thought she deserved better than that.’

  ‘It was inconspicuous,’ the other fellow replied. ‘And I’m in a band.’

  ‘I just can’t believe it. I knew I should have taken care of her myself. We’ve carried her all the way from Russia, she’s the most precious thing in the world, and now you’ve gone and lost her,’ the first voice berated. ‘Why didn’t you keep her in your room?’

  ‘Well, I did but then my room mate came in and saw it and he said that all the instruments had to be left in the storeroom. I took her up, then I took her back down and hid her, but those cabins aren’t very roomy, you know. He must have found her and taken her back up again when I wasn’t there. It’s not my fault. Someone must have picked her up. She can’t have gone far,’ the second man replied.

  ‘If you don’t find her before we get to Venice . . . I just don’t want to think about it,’ the first man spat. ‘What did the case look like?’

  ‘Very shabby and quite beaten up, really. It’s that old one I had when I was a boy, with the giant smiley face sticker in the middle. I can’t imagine that anyone would want it. It’s not worth anything.’

  ‘Not worth anything! Are you kidding? The contents of that case are worth more to me than anything.’ The first man seemed to stifle a sob.

  ‘You’re being a bit dramatic, aren’t you, brother?’

  ‘Dramatic! Dramatic?’ the first man hissed. ‘I’ll give you dramatic!’

  ‘Well, I’m sure the case can’t have gone far,’ the ot
her man spoke.

  ‘Hang on. Did you say a smiley face sticker?’

  ‘Yes, I put it there myself about fifteen years ago.’

  ‘I’ve seen that case. That boy, the one who’s in the Albert Suite. He’s got it,’ the first man exclaimed. ‘He’s a stowaway and a thief. Come on, let’s go back up there now and get it. He’ll have some explaining to do . . .’

  Alice-Miranda’s mind was a whirl. Russia . . . She . . . the most precious thing in the world . . . What did it all mean – and why did it sound so familiar?

  ‘I’ve got a key,’ the first voice hissed. ‘Hurry up, you numbskull.’

  The door opened with a snap and the men exited the storeroom, locking it again from the outside.

  ‘What was all that about?’ Millie said as she hopped out from under the desk.

  Neville’s clenched hands were wet and he felt as though he might throw up.

  ‘I don’t know, exactly.’ Alice-Miranda pushed herself from under the desk and reached out to help Neville to his feet. The children moved back towards the less crowded end of the storeroom. ‘The first man – I recognised his voice.’

  ‘It was Dr Lush!’ Millie exclaimed.

  ‘He’s the man who came looking for me,’ Neville confirmed. ‘But what does my trumpet case have to do with anything?’

  ‘And who was the other man? He called him brother,’ said Alice-Miranda.

  Millie’s eyes widened and she looked like she was about to explode. ‘Alice-Miranda! It was them. I bet they’ve got those jewels your father and Aunty Gee were talking about at dinner the other night. They said they’d carried her all the way from Russia – the most precious thing in the world.’

  Alice-Miranda looked doubtful. ‘Millie, I’m sure that’s not it at all.’

  ‘Why not? It makes sense, doesn’t it? Who would suspect they were carrying one of the world’s most precious diamonds in a battered old trumpet case?’ Millie asked.

  ‘Do you really think the doctor is a thief?’ Neville’s eyes were wide.

  ‘Of course not,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation.’

  ‘But there’s something else I haven’t told you,’ Neville wheezed.

  ‘What is it?’ Alice-Miranda noticed that the boy was shivering despite the temperature in the room being positively tropical.

  ‘When I was getting my bag out of the wardrobe, I saw something. At first I thought it was a laundry bag, but then I pulled it down and it didn’t have laundry in it.’

  ‘Well, come on, Neville,’ Millie coaxed. ‘Out with it. What was in the bag?’

  ‘Well,’ Neville gulped. ‘There was a towel and inside the towel there were . . . jewels.’

  ‘Jewels? What sort of jewels?’ Alice-Miranda asked, aware that it had taken all his strength to say as much as he just had.

  ‘I don’t know, but they were sparkly and there seemed to be quite a lot of them.’

  ‘I wonder who they belong to?’ Alice-Miranda’s thoughts were racing.

  Millie had already made up her mind. ‘They’re stolen, of course. Dr Lush probably hid them there.’ Alice-Miranda opened her mouth to object, but Millie carried on. ‘So are you sure that’s a trumpet in there?’ she gestured towards Neville’s battered case.

  Neville swallowed hard. ‘It’s not a trumpet.’

  ‘What is it, then?’ Millie demanded. ‘Do you have their case?’

  ‘No! It’s a Spanish Greenish Black-tip Euchloe Bazae,’ Neville replied.

  ‘A what?’ Millie asked. ‘Is that a type of jewel?’

  ‘Well, some people think so,’ Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘It’s a butterfly.’

  ‘A butterfly? Well, it won’t last long in there,’ Millie said.

  ‘No, it’s in a frame and it used to belong to Neville’s grandfather,’ Alice-Miranda explained. ‘That’s how he came to be interested in them in the first place. And would you believe that this particular butterfly is meant to be extinct. But clever Neville’s found a whole colony of them and he needs help and that’s why he’s on the ship.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Millie bit her lip. ‘Why did Neville need to come on the Octavia to get help with butterflies?’

  ‘No, he’s not meant to be on the Octavia. He thought he was going to America on another ship, but Aunty Gee persuaded him that he should get on board and here he is.’

  ‘This is very confusing,’ Millie sighed.

  Neville flipped open the locks and pulled a timber frame from the centre of the padded case. He passed it to Millie. A tiny, perfect butterfly, greenish-black, was mounted under the glass. He pulled out an envelope full of photographs and passed them to Alice-Miranda.

  ‘Neville showed me these before. He took them just last month. See, Millie – it’s the same butterfly.’

  ‘Oh, they’re beautiful, Neville,’ Millie admired. ‘You’re a very good photographer.’

  Neville managed a tight smile.

  ‘But why didn’t you just telephone someone at a university or something?’ Millie asked. ‘I’m sure there are people who are into butterflies who could have helped you.’

  ‘I did, but my Spanish is so bad they couldn’t understand me and said that I was a mischief- maker,’ Neville whispered. ‘I tried to tell some people in the butterfly club too but they said I must have been mistaken. But I’m not. I know I’m not and I just wanted someone to believe me. This habitat is going to be bulldozed next month for houses.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell your parents then? Couldn’t they help you?’ Millie asked.

  ‘My dad thinks I’m at football training when I’m hunting butterflies. I didn’t want to disappoint him and I don’t think he’d understand at all. And he’s not exactly into conservation. You see, he’ll quite likely be the one supplying the bulldozers. He’s gone into business with a man called Smedley Sykes and they’re doing lots of developments.’

  ‘Sykes? Did you say Sykes?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  ‘Well, that figures,’ Millie frowned. ‘You’d better convince your butterfly friends to move quick-smart. I bet that’s Sloane’s father, and if he’s anything like her and her mother, your butterfly habitat doesn’t stand a chance.’

  Alice-Miranda could see the fear on Neville’s face. ‘We don’t know for sure,’ she said soothingly.

  ‘So why were you going to America?’ Millie asked.

  ‘I met someone on the internet in our club chat room and I know he can help me,’ Neville began.

  ‘But why do you need to go there?’ Millie asked. ‘Why don’t you just tell him?’

  ‘Because he won’t talk to me any more.’ Neville bit his thumbnail.

  ‘I really don’t understand any of this,’ Millie sighed.

  ‘Don’t worry, Millie. I’ll explain the rest later. I’m sure it will all work out for Neville – and just imagine – he’ll be an environmental hero!’ Alice-Miranda added.

  The corners of Neville’s mouth turned ever so slightly upwards.

  ‘I think we should go back to your suite soon,’ Alice-Miranda said.

  ‘But how?’

  ‘I’ll have a chat with Dr Lush straight away and see if we can get things cleared up,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  ‘No!’ Millie advised. ‘What if he has a gun? Criminals usually carry weapons and you might not be as lucky as the last time.’

  ‘The last time?’ Neville exclaimed. ‘Do you make a habit of this sort of thing?’

  ‘Of course not, Neville.’ Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘I’m sure Dr Lush isn’t dangerous. He was very gentle when he removed that splinter from my foot today. There has to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. I’m sure of it.’

  'There you are, Lush.’ Admiral Harding walked towards the doctor
, who was hurrying along the corridor on his way to the Albert Suite. Nicholas elbowed the tall man with the unmissable hair beside him, who, after some terse words, changed course to slope back to the other end of the hallway and disappeared from sight.

  ‘Sir,’ Lush addressed the admiral.

  ‘I’ve just heard that Her Majesty is not feeling the best. You need to get to the Royal Suite immediately,’ Admiral Harding commanded. ‘It could be one of her allergic reactions by the sounds of things. Heaven only knows how we ended up with crustaceans on the ship – if that’s what it is. You’d better be prepared to stay with her through the night. I’ve already sent Prendergast. Such a reliable young fellow.’

  ‘But, sir, I just need to –’

  ‘Dr Lush, are you telling me that you’re not going to attend to our monarch as a matter of urgency?’ The old man raised his left eyebrow.

  ‘Of course, sir. I’ll go straight there,’ Nicholas Lush sighed. He couldn’t believe he was so close and now this.

  ‘You’d do well to have an attitude adjustment, Lush,’ Admiral Harding advised. ‘Sighing and pouting are two things I will not put up with on this ship.’

  ‘Yes sir,’ the doctor mumbled as he scurried away to attend to the Queen.

  Alice-Miranda, Millie and Neville left the safety of the storeroom and scampered upstairs to the Gallery Deck. Just as they arrived on the landing, Admiral Harding strode along the hallway.

  ‘Good evening, young ladies, young man,’ the admiral greeted the group. Neville thought he might throw up on the officer’s gleaming black shoes. ‘Have you had enough of the party already?’

  ‘Oh no, Admiral, we’re having a wonderful time,’ Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘Have you seen Dr Lush?’

  ‘Yes, just a few minutes ago I sent him up to take care of Her Majesty. She’s not feeling the best.’

  ‘Was he with anyone?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  ‘No, not when I spoke to him. But come to think of it, I saw that extremely tall fellow with the incredible hair scuttling off in the other direction. Don’t know what he was doing with Lush. He’s in the band. I introduced myself to him just yesterday. I’m sure that he should be upstairs working right now.’ The admiral rubbed his chin. ‘I don’t know. It’s so hard to get good help these days.’