Alice-Miranda In New York 5 Page 3
After a delicious stack of fluffy pancakes drowned in maple syrup, Alice-Miranda and her parents headed across the road to Central Park. First stop was the Central Park Zoo, a small but perfectly formed animal kingdom in the heart of one of the largest parks in one of the biggest cities in the world.
‘See here, it says that there are over 1400 animals in the zoo from 130 species. Look, Daddy!’ Alice-Miranda exclaimed. ‘There’s a polar bear.’ Alice-Miranda ran towards the enclosure, scanning for its inhabitant. ‘His name is Gus and it says here that he loves to show off for visitors.’
Just as Alice-Miranda spoke, the enormous snowy bear sauntered into the pool. The girl giggled with delight. The polar bear swam right to the far end of the pool, turned and locked eyes with Alice-Miranda through the glass.
‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Alice-Miranda remarked.
‘Yes, and he’d happily eat you for lunch,’ her father smiled.
‘I don’t think he’d mean to, though.’ Alice-Miranda stretched her hand across the glass. ‘It’s just what bears do, isn’t it?’ The giant white beast swam towards her, then reached up and placed its hairy paw on the other side of the barrier.
A group of visitors milling around were watching the encounter wide-eyed.
‘Goodness, look at that,’ a portly man said, grinning at the huge bear and the tiny girl. Cameras snapped away, capturing the tender moment.
‘I think that daughter of yours must have a way with animals,’ said a man standing beside Cecelia Highton-Smith.
‘I think you might be right. She seems to have a way with most everything and everyone else,’ her mother smiled.
In his best bear-like voice, Hugh Kennington-Jones teased, ‘Hmm, you look like a very tasty little girl. In fact, I think I could eat you up right . . . now!’ He grabbed Alice-Miranda from behind. She shot into the air with a squeal.
‘Daddy, stop!’ Alice-Miranda giggled as Hugh twirled his little daughter up onto his shoulders, where she dangled over his back.
‘Come on, you two,’ Cecelia admonished with a smile. ‘There’s a lot more to see so we’d better get a move on.’
‘Goodbye Gus,’ Alice-Miranda called and waved.
It was hard to believe that a couple of hours had flown past by the time the family left the zoo and headed out into the park.
‘Well, I don’t know about you ladies but I’m feeling rather peckish,’ her father advised. ‘What about lunch at the Boathouse?’
‘Daddy, couldn’t we just have a hot dog from that man over there?’ Alice-Miranda squeezed her father’s hand and pointed at a vendor with his mobile cooking station. ‘If we go to the restaurant it will take much longer and there are so many more things to see.’
Alice-Miranda’s parents exchanged glances.
‘I’m game if you are,’ Cecelia smiled.
‘All right, hot dogs it is,’ Hugh replied.
The family purchased their lunch and went to sit on a bench in the middle of a patch of green lawn. The smell of food brought some other critters out and soon two squirrels were playing hide-and-seek up and down and around a tree beside them.
‘They’re so cute,’ Alice-Miranda declared.
‘Yes, but don’t touch,’ her mother warned. ‘They’re still wild animals and people shouldn’t feed them or they can become a problem.’
Alice-Miranda just loved watching the way they would sit still for a few seconds, twitch, and then run away at lightning speed.
‘Well, you know, sweetie, that was the best hot dog I’ve ever tasted,’ her father declared as he ate the last bite.
‘It’s probably the first hot dog you’ve ever tasted.’ Cecelia Highton-Smith arched an eyebrow at her husband.
‘Of course you must have had hot dogs before, Daddy. That was simply scrumptious,’ said Alice-Miranda.
‘Well, not for a very long time, I have to admit,’ her father replied.
‘I’ll be back in a minute.’ Alice-Miranda leapt from the bench and ran along the path back in the direction they had come.
‘Darling, don’t go far,’ her mother called.
Alice-Miranda reached the hot dog vendor, who was sitting on a folding chair reading the newspaper. His face was lined with the stories of life and his hair had the misfortune of having fallen out in a perfectly round circle on the top of his head. A bushy moustache stood guard over his upper lip.
‘Hello, my name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones,’ she said, smiling at the man.
He looked at her quizzically. ‘And to what do I owe this introduction?’
‘Do you have a name, sir?’ the child asked.
‘Yes, of course, it’s Lou. Lou Gambino,’ he replied slowly.
‘Well, Mr Gambino, I just wanted to say that was the most delicious hot dog I’ve ever tasted. Thank you very much.’
The man smiled. ‘Really? It was good?’
‘Oh yes, delicious,’ Alice-Miranda replied.
‘Would you like another one?’ he asked.
‘I would but not today if that’s all right. I couldn’t fit another thing in.’
‘Maybe you can come back and see me again sometime,’ he offered.
‘I surely will,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I’m staying in the city for a month and I’m starting school tomorrow and I can’t wait.’
The man shook his head. ‘You’re a breath of fresh air if you ask me, Miss Alice-Miranda and I can’t remember the rest.’
‘It’s Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones,’ she replied.
‘Highton,’ he mused, looking up over the trees in the direction of the store.
‘Yes, sir, my mummy and daddy are here to oversee the reopening.’
He grinned. ‘Boy, it must be my lucky day, talking to royalty almost.’
‘Oh no, Mr Gambino, we’re not royalty, not at all.’ Alice-Miranda looked up at him with her brown eyes as big as saucers.
‘You’re the closest thing to it I’ve ever met.’ Lou Gambino glanced up and saw another vendor pushing a pretzel cart towards them. ‘Hey, Geronimo, over here! Come meet my new friend,’ he called.
‘All right, all right, I’m coming. These legs don’t move as fast as they used to,’ the older man yelled back. He pushed his cart slowly. ‘So, who’s your new friend?’ he puffed.
‘Hello Mr Geronimo, my name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.’ The tiny child offered her hand.
‘She’s a Highton – like the store. And what’s more she told me that I made her the best hot dog she’s ever tasted,’ Lou Gambino boasted.
The older man reached down and took Alice-Miranda’s hand in his. She looked into his crystal blue eyes and smiled. ‘Well, miss, you’re something else. You just wait until you taste my pretzels. They leave his dogs for dead,’ the man grinned. The skin around his eyes folded into soft creases and his whole face lit up.
‘That sounds delicious, Mr Geronimo, but I don’t think I can eat another thing today,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I’ll definitely see you again soon though, and then I’ll try your pretzels.’
Cecelia Highton-Smith called out to her daughter.
‘I’d best go or Mummy will start to worry,’ Alice-Miranda declared. ‘It’s been lovely to meet you Mr Gambino, Mr Geronimo. See you soon.’
And with that Alice-Miranda spun around and scampered back up the hill to her parents.
Lou nodded his head. ‘She’s a cutie.’
‘Worth a fortune too,’ said Harry Geronimo. ‘And not like some of the kids around here – wouldn’t give you the time of day. No, that little girl’s a special one.’
Harry set up his stall beside Lou’s. A folding table appeared and Harry produced a chessboard from a cupboard on his stand. The two old f
riends sat opposite each other.
‘You know, Harry, this is a good life,’ Lou smiled. ‘A very good life indeed.’
Alice-Miranda and her parents spent the rest of the afternoon sailing remote-controlled boats in the inaugural Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones family regatta. In the end Hugh managed to beat his daughter, taking out the championship by just half a boat length. Cecelia told him off for being so competitive but Alice-Miranda said that she didn’t mind a bit. Her father had better skills and that was that.
As the late afternoon sun slanted through the trees and warmed Alice-Miranda’s face, she told her mother and father that she couldn’t have imagined a more perfect day. Hand in hand the family walked out of the park and back across Fifth Avenue to their temporary home, where they found Mrs Oliver midway through making dinner.
‘That smells delicious.’ Alice-Miranda sped through the hallway to the kitchen.
‘Yes, it does, if I might say so myself,’ Mrs Oliver replied. ‘How was your day?’
Alice-Miranda pulled over a stool, and used it to climb up onto the end of the kitchen bench. She sat with her legs dangling in the air as she told Mrs Oliver every last detail.
‘Saints preserve us, slow down and take a breath, young lady,’ Mrs Oliver tutted. ‘From all that, I’d say you’ve already befriended half of New York City.’
‘Oh no, Mrs Oliver, that’s just silly. There are over a million people in Manhattan alone and I only met about twenty of them today.’ Alice-Miranda stared up at her.
Dolly Oliver shook her head and smiled. ‘But if I know you, at the end of four weeks that won’t be the case.’
Alice-Miranda offered to set the table for dinner. Dolly had spent the afternoon perfecting a huge pork loin with the crispiest of crackling, baked potatoes and honey-glazed carrots, sautéed green beans with slivered almonds and a homemade apple sauce to top it all off.
For dessert there was chocolate pudding with praline ice-cream.
‘That’s an awful lot of food just for us,’ Alice-Miranda remarked as she busied herself finding cutlery and carrying it through to the dining room next door.
‘Your mother invited Mr Gruber to dinner,’ Dolly replied, as she stirred the thick brown gravy on the stovetop.
Alice-Miranda dashed back to the kitchen to locate the salt and pepper pots. She pulled a pair of crystal shakers with shining silver tops from the sideboard and grabbed an extra knife, fork and spoon while she was there.
‘Thank you, darling girl,’ said Mrs Oliver to her young assistant. ‘Now, why don’t you run along and have a bath and pop one of your pretty dresses on.’
‘That sounds like a very good idea,’ Cecelia Highton-Smith agreed as she entered the room, fresh from the shower herself.
‘You smell delicious, Mummy,’ her little daughter remarked.
‘Thank you, darling.’
Cecelia Highton-Smith wore a smart pair of white trousers and a lovely deep-aqua silk blouse. Her patent aqua pumps were perfectly matched.
Dolly Oliver glanced at Cecelia as she pulled the potatoes from the oven. ‘That’s a great colour on you, ma’am.’
‘Thank you, Dolly. I rather like it too. Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘No, it’s all under control. Alice-Miranda set the table and the dinner’s almost done,’ Mrs Oliver replied.
Cecelia busied herself locating a bottle of champagne from the wine cooler in the walk-in pantry. Being fourteen floors up, it was a little tricky to have a cellar attached to the penthouse; instead, Cecelia’s great-grandfather had included a very large walk-in butler’s pantry off the kitchen. The recent renovations had included the installation of a wine fridge and climate-controlled ‘cellar’ for the reds.
A plate of smoked salmon and chive crème fraîche blini and another of the tiniest roast vegetable tarts were transported by Mrs Oliver to the sitting room where the family would gather before the main meal.
‘Now Dolly, can you join us for a drink before dinner?’ Cecelia asked as Mrs Oliver walked back into the kitchen having delivered the trays.
‘Why not?’ the old woman grinned. ‘Everything’s under control in here and I just have to serve up when we’re ready. So long as you don’t mind, ma’am?’ Mrs Oliver enquired.
‘Oh Dolly, you’re family. And it will be lovely to catch up with Gilbert and find out what on earth has been happening here,’ Cecelia put her hand gently on Mrs Oliver’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze.
‘Don’t go worrying yourself about the store.’ Dolly reached over and patted the younger woman’s hand. ‘Cecelia, if I may say, dear, you are the most organised person I’ve ever met. You could run a country, never mind just the Highton’s empire. In fact, if I think about it, Highton’s and all its staff around the world probably are equivalent to a small country.’
‘Thank you, Dolly,’ Cecelia smiled. ‘You always know just the right thing to say.’
Dolly winked at Cecelia. ‘I learned that from the little one.’
At exactly 7 pm the buzzer rang, signifying the imminent arrival of Gilbert Gruber. Alice-Miranda, in a pretty white dress tied in the middle with a large lemon bow, ran to the hallway to greet their guest. The elevator bell chimed and the doors slipped open. Mr Gruber barely had time to exit the compartment before the tiny child rushed forward.
He bent down and Alice-Miranda pecked him on the cheek.
‘Don’t you look gorgeous, young lady,’ Gilbert admired. With a pirouette of his right index finger, Alice-Miranda twirled like a ballerina. ‘You’re getting taller, my dear. I’m sure that you’ve grown at least an inch since last I saw you.’
‘Well, that’s silly,’ Alice-Miranda giggled. ‘I only saw you last night. I couldn’t possibly have grown an inch.’
‘Oh, you cheeky little thing – I meant since I saw you at Christmas at the Hall,’ Gilbert replied. ‘But your mother is always sending photographs and news about your exploits. I hear you’ve made quite an impression on that school of yours.’
‘I love it!’ Alice-Miranda beamed. ‘It’s beautiful and I have the most wonderful friends and the teachers are so clever.’
‘It must be taking quite a deal of courage to come here and try a new school, even if it is just for a month or so?’ Gilbert Gruber leaned down to meet Alice-Miranda’s gaze.
‘Oh no, not at all. I can’t wait to start tomorrow. And besides, it’s not as if I don’t know anyone. I mean, the headmistress is one of Mummy’s best friends. I’ll miss everyone at home but it’s not permanent and really there aren’t too many girls who have the opportunity to try out school in another country.’
Gilbert Gruber smiled at this child with her cascading chocolate curls and eyes as big as saucers. He’d known her mother and aunt since they were small girls too, but he couldn’t help marvelling that Alice-Miranda seemed to have inherited the elegance of her mother with the no-nonsense, loving heart of her aunt.
‘That’s a very handsome tie, Mr Gruber,’ said Alice-Miranda, admiring the old man’s green polka dot bow tie. Bow ties were his signature look and she couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t wearing one.
‘Thank you, dear. I rather like this one. And I have something for you.’ Gilbert passed Alice-Miranda a beautifully wrapped parcel. ‘And I thought your mother might like these.’ In his other hand was a stunning bouquet of roses.
‘Thank you. May I open it later? I want to share the surprise with everyone.’
‘Of course you may,’ Gilbert Gruber replied. ‘All right, lead the way.’
Alice-Miranda took him by his free hand and together they walked down the hallway to the sitting room.
‘Gilbert, darling, how are you?’ Cecelia Highton-Smith walked through from the dining room just as the pair arrived.
‘These are for you. Beautiful flowers for a be
autiful lady,’ Gilbert winked. Cecelia leaned forward and kissed the old man on both cheeks.
‘You know you don’t have to bring gifts,’ she frowned. ‘But they are stunning. And if I didn’t know better I’d say that they’re an apple blossom pink hybrid tea rose called Audrey Hepburn.’
‘I’m impressed. You certainly know your roses, Cecelia,’ Gilbert smiled.
‘Thank you, Gil, but I’ve cheated a bit. That’s the variety I was planning to fill the ground floor with for the opening,’ Cecelia replied.
‘Oh Mummy, that will be heavenly,’ Alice-Miranda said.
Hugh Kennington-Jones entered the room from the hallway. ‘Ah, there you are, Gil, I thought I heard the elevator. How are you?’ He strode forward and the two men shook hands.
‘All the better for seeing this one,’ said Gilbert, glancing down at Alice-Miranda.
‘Well, she’s kept her mother and me on our toes today,’ Hugh smiled.
‘You’ll have to tell me what you got up to over dinner,’ Gilbert invited.
‘Be warned, Mr Gruber, once she gets started you’ll be hard pressed to stop her,’ Mrs Oliver added as she joined the group.
‘Hello Dolly, lovely to see you.’ Gilbert kissed Mrs Oliver on the cheek.
‘And you too, Gilbert. You must be relieved that the renovations are almost complete,’ Mrs Oliver commented.
‘Absolutely. This has been the longest six months of my life and the staff are very keen to get the doors open again.’
The unmistakable sound of a popping champagne cork got everyone’s attention.
Hugh Kennington-Jones poured four flutes and filled another with pineapple juice from the small bar cabinet in the corner of the room. Cecelia delivered the drinks to Gilbert, Dolly and Alice-Miranda.
Hugh proposed the toast: ‘Here’s to a wonderful reopening and a fantastic time in New York!’
‘Hear, hear,’ the rest of the group chorused.