Alice-Miranda Shows the Way Page 3

  ‘Oi, what are you doing!’ The young man pulled away.

  ‘Bony!’ Alice-Miranda giggled and tugged firmly on his reins. ‘That’s very strange. I’m sorry but that means he likes you. And believe me, he really doesn’t like most people at all – especially young men.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ said Billy, frowning at the pony. ‘They’re not all like him are they?’

  ‘Oh no, not at all,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘The other ponies are much friendlier.’

  The two girls hauled themselves into the saddles and wheeled Bony and Chops around.

  ‘See you tomorrow,’ Alice-Miranda called.

  ‘Yeah, tomorrow.’ Billy raised his chin in a sort of backwards nod.

  Millie and Alice-Miranda made it back to the stables with just enough time to give Bony and Chops a quick rub down and some food before the girls were due at their evening meal. As they were finishing up, Wally Whitstable and Charlie Weatherly drove up in the four-wheel drive with a fresh load of straw on board.

  Alice-Miranda met them as they got out of the vehicle. ‘Hello Mr Charles, Mr Walt. I’m glad that we’ve run into you.’

  ‘Did you have a good ride?’ Charlie asked.

  ‘Yes, thank you,’ Alice-Miranda nodded.

  Millie appeared from the tack room where she had just put Chops’s saddle away.

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Millie,’ Charlie said with a nod at the red-haired girl.

  ‘Hello Charlie. Did Alice-Miranda tell you that we met a young man camping down near Duck’s Flat?’ Millie asked. ‘He’s on an adventure.’

  Charlie’s brow puckered. ‘What sort of an adventure?’

  ‘I’m not really sure,’ Alice-Miranda answered. ‘But he was friendly and he said that he was looking for work.’

  ‘Is the fella any good with horses?’ Wally piped up.

  ‘He said that he’s had some experience and he likes them and so I thought perhaps he might be able to help out here – even if just for a little while,’ Alice-Miranda suggested.

  Charlie smiled at this tiny child with her cascading chocolate curls and brown eyes as big as saucers. He wondered if there was any problem she couldn’t solve.

  ‘I suggested to Mr Boots that he should come over around morning tea time tomorrow,’ Alice-Miranda said.

  ‘Sounds good, don’t you think, Charlie?’ said Wally eagerly.

  ‘We’ll see,’ the older man replied. ‘You two girls had best be getting off to dinner and if Wally ever wants to go home tonight we’d better unload this straw.’

  After a chat with Charles Weatherly, Billy Boots was offered a job and moved into the flat above the stables on Thursday afternoon. It was up to Wally to show the lad the ropes and make sure he was aware of all the tasks that needed doing. Wally decided he was friendly enough but very quiet, the sort of fellow who didn’t want to talk much about himself. When Wally asked him about this adventure he was on, Billy changed the subject. When Wally asked where he came from, he just said, ‘Up north.’ There was something about him that niggled, but Wally really couldn’t say what it was. He felt like he’d seen him somewhere before, but Billy insisted that this was his first time in the village.

  In truth, Wally was just relieved that there was someone to take his place. It didn’t matter if he was talkative or not. Looking after the stables at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale was a much bigger job than Wally had first imagined and he hated the thought of Charlie having to take it all on again. The poor man had enough to do tending the gardens and cultivating all those prize orchids.

  On Friday after school, Alice-Miranda had found Wally in the tack room oiling saddles and lured him to the dining room, with the excuse that Mr Charles needed him for some urgent last-minute chores. But of course it was all a set-up and the girls had organised a special afternoon tea to wish him well at his new job. Wally left Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale with a huge smile and promises of a visit over the weekend from Alice-Miranda and Millie.

  On Saturday morning the residents of Grimthorpe House were busy getting ready for the various activities they had planned for the day. The cavernous downstairs bathroom sweated under the steam of constant showers while girls jostled for mirror space.

  ‘What are you doing today?’ Alice-Miranda asked Jacinta, who was busily brushing her teeth.

  ‘Ma muvva tak me ut,’ she said, before spitting a mouthful of frothy toothpaste and water into the sink.

  ‘Did you say that your mother is taking you out?’ Alice-Miranda repeated.

  ‘Yes.’ Jacinta wiped her face with her towel and grimaced.

  ‘But that’s lovely,’ Alice-Miranda enthused.

  ‘We’ll see. Sloane’s coming with me, just in case Mummy is foul.’

  Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘I bet you’ll have lots of fun. Your mother was pretty upset about you being abducted on board the Octavia. I’m sure she’s changed for the better.’

  The tall girl shrugged. Jacinta knew that a couple of visits didn’t mean Ambrosia was in the running for mother of the year. But underneath her bravado, she was rather hoping that their relationship had turned a corner.

  Jacinta stared into the foggy mirror as Sloane appeared in the bathroom. ‘Hey, what are you wearing?’ she growled.

  ‘Uh, a dress,’ Sloane replied.

  ‘But that’s my dress,’ Jacinta snapped.

  ‘You said that I could wear anything in your wardrobe, so I chose this.’ Sloane stared back at Jacinta in the mirror.

  ‘It looks lovely,’ said Alice-Miranda.

  ‘I don’t remember saying that,’ Jacinta pouted.

  ‘I do,’ Millie piped up from the other side of a shower cubicle where she had just turned off the tap. ‘You said it at lunch the other day.’

  Jacinta was cornered.

  ‘If you don’t want me to wear it, I can find something else,’ Sloane offered.

  Jacinta looked as if she’d been struck by lightning. ‘Really? You’ll change?’

  ‘Of course. I only wore it because when you unwrapped the parcel from your mother last week you didn’t seem to like it very much. You’ve got heaps of clothes in that enormous wardrobe of yours,’ Sloane said. ‘I’ll find something else.’

  ‘Well, I would like to wear it,’ said Jacinta, watching Sloane carefully.

  Millie emerged with a towel wrapped around her and a cute shower cap covered in ponies on her head. She and Alice-Miranda exchanged smiles. Jacinta and Sloane had certainly both come a long way lately.

  Sloane glanced at Alice-Miranda, who was wearing jodhpurs and a shirt. ‘I suppose you’re spending the day on that nag of yours?’ The blonde girl tousled her hair with her fingers and then pulled a brush out of her toiletries bag.

  ‘Yes,’ Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘First we’re going to see Miss Hephzibah and Miss Henrietta and have a look at what’s been happening at Caledonia Manor, and then we’re going to ride over and visit Mr Walt at Chesterfield Downs. If there’s time we’ll go to Fayle and say hello to Lucas and Sep but that might have to wait until tomorrow. We should do some proper training for the show too. We’re going to enter all the pairs events in hacking and then I think we should try the barrel racing and keyhole too – they’re loads of fun.’

  Sloane wrinkled her nose. ‘I can’t imagine. And don’t bother going to Fayle. Lucas and Sep are out on some horrible cadet camp this weekend. Do you think there could be anything more revolting than traipsing around the woods pretending to be soldiers?’

  ‘It sounds like fun to me,’ said Alice-Miranda. ‘What are you two doing?’

  ‘Ambrosia’s taking us to the movies and then to have milkshakes,’ said Sloane, looking pleased with herself. ‘But say hello to Granny Henrietta and tell her I’ll get over and visit her soon.’

  Alice-Mirand
a nodded. ‘We will.’

  One by one the girls finished their morning ablutions and headed back to their rooms.

  Alice-Miranda and Millie said goodbye to Jacinta and Sloane and raced off to the stables. There was no sign of anyone about so the girls tacked up the ponies and wrote a note on the blackboard indicating their plans.

  ‘I wonder where Mr Boots is,’ said Alice-Miranda as she nimbly threw her leg over Bonaparte.

  ‘He must be some kind of superman,’ Millie commented, looking around at the stalls with their fresh straw. The tack room was positively gleaming and there wasn’t a thing out of place. ‘I hate to say it but he makes Wally look lazier than Chops.’

  Alice-Miranda clicked her tongue and Bonaparte walked out into the bright sunshine. Millie was having a quiet word in Chops’s ear. Whatever she said must have worked because as soon as they were outside he began to trot.

  The two girls decided they would take their favourite route over to Gertrude’s Grove, have their morning tea there and then head to Caledonia Manor. Mrs Smith had supplied them with a lovely spread comprised of roast beef sandwiches, poppy seed cake, apples and a couple of chocolate-iced cupcakes thrown in for good measure. Millie was carrying it all in a small leather satchel attached to the side of Chops’s saddle.

  The ponies walked and trotted through the woods before they reached the clearing that led up over a rise and then down to Gertrude’s Grove. Millie challenged Alice-Miranda to a race and the two girls found themselves cantering along, enjoying the warm sun on their faces and the breeze in their hair. But just as Millie reached the top of the hill, she tugged violently at Chops’s reins and the pony came to a jerky halt. Alice-Miranda pulled up beside her.

  ‘What’s the matter? Why did you stop?’ she asked.

  ‘Look down there.’ Millie pointed at an array of vehicles: trucks and trailers, caravans and the odd car. The whole of the flat beside the stream had been transformed into a giant camping ground.

  ‘I wonder who they are,’ said Alice-Miranda.

  ‘Carnies,’ Millie replied.

  ‘You mean show people? The ones who run all the rides and things at the show?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  ‘Yup.’ Millie began to wheel Chops around.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  Millie wrinkled her nose. ‘We can’t go down there now.’

  ‘Why ever not?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  ‘Because they’re carnies,’ Millie said.

  ‘But what’s wrong with them?’ Alice-Miranda turned Bonaparte back around and scanned the impromptu camp site.

  ‘I don’t know exactly, but I heard Charlie telling Howie last year that they weren’t to be trusted,’ Millie said. ‘I think there were some robberies around the village when the show was on. But I don’t think Constable Derby ever caught anyone.’

  Alice-Miranda had never met anyone who ran a carnival before. ‘That’s a bit unfair, don’t you think – blaming the carnival people? It could have been anyone. And if they’re so terrible, how come everyone loves it when the carnival comes to town? These people earn their living making children happy. If they were really dangerous, surely they wouldn’t be welcome at all.’

  Millie thought about it for a moment. Her friend had a point. ‘Maybe we should just go and see Miss Hephzibah and Miss Henrietta?’ she suggested. ‘And we can meet the carnival people another time.’

  ‘Look,’ said Alice-Miranda, pointing. ‘There are some children. I think they’re playing a game. Come on, don’t you want to say hello?’

  Millie shrugged. Before she had time to protest, Alice-Miranda and Bonaparte were trotting towards the group of youngsters who were running around in a large clearing beside the caravans.

  ‘Alice-Miranda,’ Millie called, but her words were carried away on the breeze. There was only one thing for it. Millie kicked Chops in the flank and raced to catch up.

  As Bonaparte jogged towards the caravans, Alice-Miranda could see a group of about ten children kicking a ball. A chubby girl standing on the sideline looked up and pointed at her, then shouted something, and the game came to an abrupt halt. All eyes were on the two ponies and their riders.

  ‘Hello,’ Alice-Miranda called and waved.

  ‘Hello,’ the small girl who had first spotted them called back. ‘Who are you?’

  Alice-Miranda slid down from the saddle and walked Bonaparte over to where the group was standing. She undid the strap on her helmet and took it off.

  ‘My name’s Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones. And that’s my friend, Millicent Jane McLoughlin-McTavish-McNoughton-McGill, but she prefers Millie.’

  ‘Hi,’ Millie called and waved. She dismounted too and pulled the reins over Chops’s head.

  ‘Geez, listen to you two with your posh names and your posh-lookin’ ponies. I suppose you’re probably related to the Queen too,’ a tall boy sneered.

  ‘No, Aunty Gee’s not a blood relative but she is Mummy’s godmother,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  The boy rolled his eyes.

  ‘What’s your name?’ Alice-Miranda asked him.

  ‘If you must know, Miss Nosey, I’m Pete and he’s Robbie and he’s Jim and that’s Lola and Fern and Rory and Stephen and Indigo and Nick and Ellie.’ He pointed at them all one by one. ‘And that little pest there –’ he waved a finger at the chubby girl – ‘is Ivy.’

  She poked her tongue out at him. ‘Am not a pest!’ Ivy was holding a tatty doll. It had matted hair and was missing an arm.

  ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to remember all your names straight away.’ Alice-Miranda looked at Ivy and her doll. ‘You must love her a lot.’

  The small child nodded.

  ‘What are the ponies called?’ Ivy asked.

  ‘He’s Bonaparte,’ Alice-Miranda replied, ‘and that’s Chops.’

  ‘What a daft name for a horse,’ Pete scoffed. ‘In’t that a brand of dog food?’

  ‘So what if it is?’ Millie retorted.

  ‘I’m getting a pony,’ Ivy said.

  ‘No, you’re not,’ Pete snapped. ‘Where are we gonna put a pony? All the rides round here are mechanical. You know how much Alf hates havin’ more mouths to feed.’

  At the mention of the name ‘Alf’, a suffocating silence fell over the group. Alice-Miranda wondered if he was in charge of the carnival, and why his name had such an effect.

  ‘Can we play?’ Alice-Miranda asked as she glanced around and spied the scuffed football that the boy called Rory was holding.

  ‘What do you think?’ Pete asked the other kids. ‘Should we let the poshos play? Reckon they’re any good?’

  ‘Oh, I’m afraid I’m not,’ Alice-Miranda said, ‘but Millie’s fantastic.’

  ‘All right, let’s pick the teams again. Rory, you can be the captain for the Rangers and I’m the captain for the Stars. I’m going first. I want Robbie.’ Pete pointed at the boy with dark curls.

  ‘Stephen.’ Rory pointed at a kid with closely cropped blond hair.

  ‘I want li’l Jimmy,’ Pete continued.

  Rory pointed. ‘Nick.’

  ‘Hey, what about the girls?’ Indigo called out. ‘It’s not fair. You always pick the boys first.’

  ‘Indigo, you’re with us.’ Pete pointed at her and she smiled.

  ‘Lola,’ said Rory.

  ‘Fern,’ said Pete.

  ‘Ellie,’ said Rory.

  ‘Red.’ Pete pointed at Millie.

  Millie rolled her eyes. ‘My name’s Millie.’

  ‘Yeah, whatever,’ Pete replied. ‘I’m calling you Red.’

  ‘Alice-whatever-your-name-is,’ said Rory.

  ‘What about me?’ Ivy whined.

  Rory shook his head. ‘No, the teams a
re even. You can’t play.’

  ‘That’s not fair!’ Ivy stamped her foot and threw her doll on the ground. ‘I’m going to tell my dad on you, Rory.’

  Rory relented. ‘All right, you can be the ref, then.’

  Ivy turned around and smiled with all her teeth. ‘You gotta give me the whistle.’

  Rory sighed. ‘Just don’t lose it or you’re buying me a new one.’ He took a whistle on a string from around his neck and placed it around Ivy’s.

  ‘Are they playing too?’ Pete asked, looking at the ponies. Millie and Alice-Miranda were holding their reins loosely and the hungry pair were now chomping on the long clumps of grass which grew on the edge of the field.

  Alice-Miranda laughed. ‘Oh, I don’t think so. Bony would be much too competitive. Come on, mister.’ She pulled hard on the reins and managed to get Bonaparte’s head out of the grass. Millie did the same and the girls walked the ponies over to the fence and hitched their reins to the wire. On the other side, along the bank of the stream, a stand of willow trees swayed lazily in the breeze like a row of hula dancers.

  ‘I suppose they seem okay,’ Millie whispered to Alice-Miranda.

  ‘Bony and Chops will be fine here,’ Alice-Miranda nodded.

  ‘I meant those kids. Except that one who keeps calling me Red.’

  ‘Oh.’ Alice-Miranda smiled at Millie. ‘Maybe he just couldn’t remember your name.’

  The teams lined up against one another. Sticks at either end of the field marked out goalposts. Other than that there were no lines. It was up to Ivy to blow the whistle when she thought there was an infringement. Rory had won the toss and as Ivy blew the whistle, the lad kicked off. He shot the ball backwards to Stephen, who dribbled it down the pitch before running into Pete, who stole the ball and kicked it to Robbie, who was quickly cornered by Rory and Nick.

  ‘Over here,’ the thin girl with dark hair called.

  ‘Fern!’ Robbie shouted and booted it towards her. She dribbled the ball up the field, managing to dodge Rory, then Stephen. She was close to the goal.