Alice-Miranda Takes the Lead Page 16

  ‘You haven’t got any proof. I didn’t change your stupid tests. Anyway, it’s too late to stop things now. Mummy said that she’s already got a buyer for the place,’ Sloane spat.

  ‘You’ll get what’s coming to you,’ Millie threatened.

  Sloane laughed. ‘And what’s that, millions of dollars, you little twit?’ She pushed her way through the children and strutted back to the hall. Sep and Lucas followed her.

  Millie was grim. ‘She’s had her chance.’

  Alice-Miranda agreed.

  September Sykes had refused to listen to the pleas of Professor Winterbottom, her own son, and even the gardener, who had all begged her to think again. But with Smedley safely out of the way working on the property business, there was nothing that would stand in her way. September didn’t see any need for her husband to know a thing until the deal was done. Soon the Sykeses would be rich. They would be invited to the best parties, they would have the most important friends, and September could buy anything she ever wanted. No doubt there’d be an invitation to Lawrence Ridley’s celebrity wedding too.

  Meanwhile, the children had been rehearsing for weeks. But as the play drew closer, it seemed that a cloud of gloom had descended over the village of Winchesterfield. The cast all knew their lines by heart, the costumes were dazzling and the backdrops superb, but there was one thing missing – excitement. The usual theatrical buzz had all but disappeared.

  The days leading up to the performance were almost unbearable as the students and staff contemplated the closure of Fayle forever. Only Alice-Miranda and Millie seemed anything like their usual selves.

  ‘Come on, everyone,’ Alice-Miranda pleaded when the cast gathered together before the curtain went up on opening night. ‘Cheer up! It’s not the end of the world.’

  ‘No, but it’s the end of our school,’ Grumpy the dwarf frowned.

  ‘Well, maybe there’s a bit of magic left in the old place yet,’ Alice-Miranda smiled.

  ‘Can I come to Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale next term?’ the little boy playing the role of Happy asked.

  ‘Hey, that’s not as silly as it sounds!’ Millie smiled and winked at Alice-Miranda. ‘We can ask Miss Grimm. I’d love to know what she thinks about that idea.’

  ‘I already have asked her,’ Miss Reedy informed the group. ‘Never say never.’

  ‘Only so long as we don’t have to wear dresses,’ Lucas added.

  There was a collective giggle and the mood began to lift.

  ‘Well, come on, everyone, I can see all the parents arriving.’ Alice-Miranda poked her nose through the side curtain. ‘Look, there’s Mummy and Aunt Charlotte and Mrs Oliver and Shilly and Daisy … Oh goodness, I think everyone’s come to watch.’ She squeezed Millie’s arm.

  ‘There’s my mother and father too.’ Millie winked at them through the gap in the curtains.

  Jacinta looked over the top of the girls’ heads. She’d heard earlier in the day that her mother had telephoned Mrs Derby to say she was stuck in Monaco. Her father had said that he would try to get there, but as yet there was no sign. It didn’t matter anyway. She hadn’t reserved them any tickets.

  Jacinta turned to Alice-Miranda. ‘Where’s your father and Mr Ridley?’

  ‘They’ll be along soon. They’re just getting something sorted,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  Mr Lipp bustled onto the stage and began ushering the girls and boys away from the curtains. ‘Come along now, children. ‘Places. We’re starting in five minutes.’

  Miss Reedy and Mr Lipp had the children form a circle backstage.

  ‘Well, girls and boys, this is it. You’ve been rehearsing for weeks now and I know you’re all going to do a wonderful job this evening. You are a credit to yourselves and your schools.’ Miss Reedy wiped a tear that had formed in the corner of her eye.

  ‘I couldn’t agree more, Livinia,’ Mr Lipp began. ‘It’s been a pleasure working with you all. I will miss …’ Mr Lipp began to blubber like baby.

  Miss Reedy pulled a tissue from her pocket and handed it to him. He blew his nose like an off-key trumpet.

  ‘And we’ve had the best time working with you too,’ said Alice-Miranda, smiling at the teachers. She glanced around the circle at the other students. ‘Now, I think we owe it to Miss Reedy and Mr Lipp to put on the best performance of our lives. Three cheers for the teachers, hip hip hooray, hip hip hooray, hip hip hooray! And one cheer for us – HOORAY!’

  Break a leg,’ Millie whispered to Sloane, as she took up her position behind the Magic Mirror.

  ‘I hope you break your leg,’ Sloane spat back.

  Millie sat in the chair behind her mirror. Charlie had helped to build the props and he’d done an especially wonderful job with this. He’d used a reflective surface that allowed Millie’s face to fade in and out whenever she spoke to the Queen. Mr Plumpton had also been involved, giving Mr Charles some new-fangled materials that he’d been working with.

  Miss Grimm and Mr Grump took their seats beside Professor Winterbottom and his wife Deidre, in the middle of the third row. The theatre was almost full, except for one empty seat in the centre of the second row. The lights began to dim.

  ‘Hang on a tick. I’m not in my seat yet!’ September Sykes teetered at the top of the stairs. The entire audience swivelled their heads in unison to see the outline of a woman in a minuscule dress, with more hair than your average lion, trying to navigate her way to the front. ‘Put the lights on, please,’ September asked in a syrupy voice.

  There was a gasp as the parents and teachers squinting through the darkness realised exactly who the woman in the too-tight dress was.

  ‘That’s her. The one who’s making the school close … she’s vile … it’s disgraceful …’

  When nothing happened, September asked again. ‘Put the lights on, NOW!’ This time, there was not even a touch of sweetness in the request.

  The poor young teacher at the lighting desk almost jumped out of his skin. He brought up the house lights. The audience couldn’t take their eyes off September. She bounced and flounced to the second row and edged past the seated guests all the way to the middle, trampling more than one set of toes as she went.

  September took their gasps and groans as compliments.

  ‘Thank you, thank you.’ She finally reached her seat. ‘You can turn the lights off now,’ she shouted.

  A drum roll rumbled and the curtains went up.

  ‘Once upon a time, long, long ago, a beautiful queen wished more than anything to be blessed with a child,’ Jacinta narrated.

  ‘You might want to wish for something less bothersome,’ September quipped.

  Ashima, in the role of Snow White’s mother, stood at an open window with her needlework. She ignored the heckle and continued with her lines. The scene finished and the curtains closed, amid hearty clapping from the audience.

  ‘She wasn’t that good,’ September said under her breath.

  As the curtains opened again, the Evil Queen stood in the centre of the stage, her back to the audience. Her Magic Mirror sat on an elaborate dressing table facing the audience.

  ‘Sloane!’ September called and waved. ‘That’s my girl up there. Mummy’s here, darling, front and centre.’

  The audience were fast losing their patience with this horrid woman.

  Sloane was perfect in the part. She primped and preened. She checked her nails and brushed her hair and spent rather more time than Miss Reedy remembered from the rehearsals before she spoke to the mirror.

  ‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?’ Sloane gazed lovingly at her own reflection.

  Suddenly the mirror swirled and Millie’s face appeared.

  ‘Thou, Queen, there is none fairer than you,’ the mirror replied, and with that, Millie disappeared.

  ‘Bravo, bravo!’ September shouted.

  ‘Keep it down, woman.’ It was Hedges, Fayle’s gardener, who had the dubious pleasure of sitting beside her.

  Th
e play continued. The audience clapped and cheered for Snow White at the end of her scene with the Woodcutter, and laughed and laughed when she was found by the dwarfs. In no time at all, it was interval.

  September turned to the man sitting on her left. ‘Isn’t she adorable?’

  ‘Yes, she’s a special one that Snow White,’ he replied. It was Charlie and, next to him, Wally from Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale.

  ‘Not that brat,’ September grizzled. ‘I meant the Queen – my daughter. She’s lovely.’

  ‘That’s one word for her,’ Wally quipped. But perhaps not the first one that springs to mind, he thought silently.

  Interval lasted just a couple of minutes. Alice-Miranda grabbed what looked to be a script from backstage and handed it to Jacinta. ‘Use this one from now on. There’s no time to explain. Just go with it at the end – and don’t be frightened. It’s very important.’

  Jacinta had no idea what her friend was talking about. And she didn’t have time to look either. In a blink, the sets were changed and the curtain went up again.

  ‘I haven’t even had time for a toot break,’ September complained. ‘No champagne either. What sort of a play is this?’

  ‘A school play, love,’ Hedges leaned over and whispered, rolling his eyes at the dim-witted woman.

  The scenes with Snow White and the dwarfs were wonderful. Poor old Sneezy’s allergies were playing up more than ever and at one point he sneezed fifteen times in a row before they could continue.

  ‘And here he goes again, and again, oh, now for something different …’ Grumpy’s improvisations delighted the audience, who were in hysterics.

  There were boos for the Evil Queen as she tricked Snow White into eating her poison apple and sniffles when Snow White was found by her little friends and lifted into her glass coffin. Charlie, Wally and Hedges all produced large handkerchiefs to catch their torrents of tears. And then the Handsome Prince arrived to save the beautiful princess. When she awoke, the auditorium filled with cheers. The Prince’s proposal had all the ladies swooning. Sep made a very handsome suitor indeed.

  At last, it was nearing the final scene. The Evil Queen appeared on stage, fawning about all over herself.

  ‘Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?’ she demanded.

  Sloane turned her back to the mirror and gazed out at the audience. There was a loud gasp. This time, it wasn’t Millie in the mirror.

  ‘Look!’ Wally called out. ‘It’s the witch. It’s the witch from the woods. Ahhhhh!’ The young lad clung to Charlie beside him. The whole audience drew in a collective gasp.

  There in the mirror was Hephzibah, her scarred face hidden by her black veil.

  ‘Jacinta,’ Alice-Miranda whispered off stage. ‘Just say it.’

  ‘Dear Queen,’ Jacinta looked at the script. She was completely bewildered. ‘Your cheating ways and evil lies, have earned you now the greatest prize, a dear, dear friend has come to speak, about the havoc you did wreak.’

  ‘That’s not how it goes.’ Sloane looked over to where Jacinta was standing. Miss Reedy was on the other side of the wings, flapping her arms about wildly. ‘Who are you, anyway?’ Sloane demanded, as she turned back to the mirror.

  ‘She’s the witch from the woods,’ Wally shouted. ‘Everyone knows that!’

  ‘What witch?’ Sloane folded her arms in front of her.

  And then the mirror spoke.

  ‘I know what you have done, Sloane Sykes.’

  ‘I haven’t done anything,’ Sloane gasped and turned back to face her accuser. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I’m afraid you do, Sloane Sykes,’ Hephzibah continued. ‘You changed those papers. You made the boys fail.’

  The audience had no idea what was going to happen next. Sloane began to shake. She did not know who this woman was, but she certainly didn’t like her tone.

  ‘It wasn’t me. I didn’t do anything,’ Sloane protested.

  ‘I don’t believe you, Sloane Sykes. And do you know what happens to little girls who tell lies? Would you like to find out?’ Hephzibah was shaking too.

  Sloane started to cry. She spun around and pointed straight at her mother. ‘It was her. It was all her idea. She made me take the papers and change the answers. She said that we would be rich. Like all of you!’

  September Sykes sat with her mouth open like a stunned goldfish. The young teacher on the spotlight wheeled it around and suddenly there was September: a deer in the headlights, in a tiny green dress with nowhere to go.

  ‘I don’t know what she’s talking about,’ September blurted. ‘She’s such a liar. Aren’t you, Sloane? Always telling lies. Why do you think I sent her to boarding school in the first place?’

  The audience drew in another collective gasp.

  ‘I hate you, Mummy,’ Sloane screeched and fled from the stage.

  Alice-Miranda coughed and nodded at Jacinta who could hardly believe what she had just seen. Hephzibah was gone and the mirror was just a mirror.

  Jacinta cleared her throat. ‘The Evil Queen was banished from the kingdom and Snow White and her Prince were married and lived happily … ever … after …’

  There was a pause as the children gathered their wits about them and flooded back onto the stage for the wedding party. The music struck up and Snow White and her Prince danced left and right, to much cheering and stamping of feet.

  The scene ended, the cast took their bows and the audience clapped loudly. As the noise died down, Alice-Miranda invited Miss Reedy and Mr Lipp to join the group, where they were both presented with enormous bunches of flowers. The cast bowed once more and then stood in two lines, facing an expectant audience.

  Professor Winterbottom moved from his seat to the microphone.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, girls and boys, I’m sure you will agree with me that we have seen an astonishing performance here this evening – not exactly as expected, but fantastic just the same.’

  September Sykes was wondering how on earth she could get out of the building. She needed to find her snivelling daughter and they needed to leave, as quickly as possible.

  ‘I’m sure you’ve all heard about the recent real-life dramas here at Fayle. For a while, we thought the school would be closing at the end of the term, but as you saw tonight, that’s not going to happen. And I’d personally like to thank Mrs Sykes for that. You see, if she hadn’t tested the waters, so to speak, we might never have read the very fine, fine print, which actually told us that clause thirty of the Fayle School Charter could at any time be revoked by the oldest living relative of Frederick Fayle. Therefore, I do hope tonight that we can repeal that somewhat silly old rule and, while I can assure you the boys at Fayle will not fail, we will no longer have that hanging over our heads.’

  ‘But I have Granny Henrietta’s power of attorney,’ September spat. ‘I made her sign it … I mean, she insisted I have it.’ September stood up. ‘And I’m not changing that rule. There will come a day when these boys will fail and then all this –’ she waved her arms like a model from The Price Is Right – ‘will belong to me.’

  ‘It may be true that you have acquired your step-mother-in-law’s power of attorney, Mrs Sykes, but you should check your facts. It seems that Henrietta is not Fred Fayle’s oldest living relative,’ said Professor Winterbottom.

  September gasped. ‘What are you talking about, you silly old man?’

  ‘If you’d take your seat, Mrs Sykes, I’d like to invite Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones to speak to us. I think she might be able to shed some light on this mystery.’

  Alice-Miranda stepped forward to the microphone. Professor Winterbottom adjusted it downwards.

  ‘Thank you, professor. Hello everyone, it’s so lovely to be here tonight. If you would allow me, I’d like to tell you a story. You see, on the first night back this term, the girls in my house at school told me a tale about a witch who lived in the woods. That weekend, I went out riding with
Millie and Susannah and Sloane and, well, I have a very naughty pony who loves vegetables …’

  ‘You can say that again,’ Mr Greening, the Highton-Smith-Kennington-Joneses’ gardener, called from the audience. He received a sharp jab in the ribs from Mrs Greening beside him.

  ‘Well, we had a lovely ride and a delicious picnic, and then when we were all on our way home, Bonaparte sniffed out a vegetable patch, so the girls went one way and I went another, and I ended up meeting a wonderful lady and I’d like to introduce her to you all now.’ Alice-Miranda looked to the wings and beckoned with her right hand. Millie helped Hephzibah walk slowly onto the stage. No longer dressed in black, Hephzibah wore a lovely dress of purple and red, with a dainty hat and small net veil covering her face.

  ‘Everyone, this is my dear friend, Miss Hephzibah Caledonia Fayle. She’d like to say something to you all.’

  The audience gasped.

  ‘She’s not a Fayle!’ September blurted. ‘I’ve got the family tree and she’s not on it.’ But a sick feeling rose in September’s stomach as she remembered that there was a corner of the document missing.

  Hephzibah stood beside Alice-Miranda, who turned and gave her a gentle hug. Professor Winterbottom reached forward and raised the microphone.

  ‘Hello everyone.’ Hephzibah’s voice wavered. ‘As you’ve just heard, my name is Hephzibah Caledonia Fayle.’ She spoke slowly and deliberately. ‘I am an old woman who has spent most of her life being frightened. I have hidden from the world, too scared to show my face. In fact, everyone believed that I had perished in the fire which claimed my beloved parents many years ago, and I was happy for them to think that. And so, I became a sort of legend – the witch in the woods with her hundreds of cats. But this little girl, this wonderful little girl …’ Hephzibah leaned down and kissed the top of Alice-Miranda’s head, ‘has shown me how to live again. She has made me laugh and cry, she’s fed me some delicious chocolate brownies, and introduced me to her delightful friend, Millie.

  ‘You see, my younger sister Henrietta gave up the best years of her life to be with me. Together, we made a life – and never left our home. Percy Sykes, a kind and wise man, delivered our groceries for years. He thought Henrietta lived at the manor alone – you see, I always hid from view if anyone ever came in. I hid in the playroom, of all places. It was where I felt safest. When Percy lost his own dear wife, over time he and my sister fell in love.