Alice-Miranda on Vacation Page 5

  “Evening, Shilly,” Hugh Kennington-Jones greeted Mrs. Shillingsworth as she entered the hallway and took his coat. “Come and meet Mr. Ridley. He’s going to be our guest for the week.”

  Mrs. Shillingsworth frowned ever so slightly, then smiled and nodded at Mr. Ridley. She knew there was no point being upset, as Mr. Hugh had rather a habit of bringing friends home unannounced. And it wasn’t as though they were short of room.

  Hugh looked sheepish. “I know—this is going to be such a busy week with all the preparations for the par—”

  “Hugh!” Cecelia interrupted him. “Why don’t you take Lawrence up to the blue room and I’ll get the girls organized for dinner.” She turned around and raised her right index finger to her lips. The action was accompanied by what could only have been described as a meaningful look.

  “Oh, of course, darling. Oops, almost let the cat—”

  “Go!” Cecelia commanded.

  “Mummy, what was Daddy going to say about cats?” Alice-Miranda gazed wide-eyed at her mother.

  “Nothing, sweetheart, nothing at all. Now why don’t you girls go upstairs and get cleaned up before dinner. Mrs. Oliver has the most divine roast lamb on the go.”

  “But Mummy, if it wasn’t important why can’t you tell us?” Alice-Miranda insisted.

  “Just grown-up things,” her mother replied. “Now off you go or you’ll be late for dinner.”

  “Come on, Jacinta.” Alice-Miranda bounded up the stairs with Jacinta close behind.

  “Do you think your parents are getting you a cat?” Jacinta asked.

  “I can’t imagine. Mummy’s allergic to cat fur, and the only cats allowed live in the stables,” said Alice-Miranda, shaking her head.

  Back in the hallway, Mrs. Shillingsworth was also shaking her head.

  “I should have known he might say something,” said Cecelia, with her hands on her hips. “He can never keep a secret, and I want the girls to get a surprise. But isn’t it lovely that Lawrence can spend some time with us?” she asked.

  The two women walked through to the sitting room, where Shilly began to prepare a drinks tray. She gathered crystal tumblers from a decorative Regency cabinet and set them on a silver tray. Cecelia disappeared to the kitchen and reappeared a few minutes later with a jug of water and a bucket of ice.

  “I’m sorry about the extra work, Shilly,” Cecelia said apologetically as she set the jug and bucket on the sideboard. “You know Hugh can’t help himself when it comes to guests. And he is rather gorgeous, isn’t he?” Cecelia raised her arched eyebrows.

  “Who, ma’am?” Shilly asked remotely, trying to be cross. She wasn’t very good at it.

  “Mr. Ridley, of course,” Cecelia replied. “I think Charlotte’s a very lucky girl.”

  Shilly tried to suppress a smile but then giggled like a schoolgirl. “Well, I don’t think I mind too much. I think it’s those eyes—impossibly dark, aren’t they? Ever since Dolly and I watched that movie, you know the one where he pretends to be a writer in France—he sends all those love letters. What was it called again?” Shilly dropped an ice cube into one of the glasses. It tinkled loudly against the crystal.

  “Letters from Lyon.” Lawrence suddenly appeared in the doorway.

  “That was quick!” Cecelia spun around.

  “Sorry—I shouldn’t have been listening,” he said.

  “Very good, sir,” Shilly whispered, her cheeks lighting up the room. “I’d better attend to the table,” she muttered, bustling off. “Small dining room tonight, ma’am.”

  “There’s no need to go to any trouble,” Cecelia called. “We’d be happy to eat in the kitchen with you and Dolly.”

  But Shilly had gone.

  “Lawrence, you naughty thing,” Cecelia admonished. “Poor Shilly won’t be able to look at you again.”

  “Sorry, Cee—I only heard the part about the movie. Thought I’d help her out.”

  “She was telling me how much she admired your work, among other things,” Cecelia added.

  “Oh. I’ll see what I can do to put her at ease,” Lawrence offered.

  “Come on, then, let’s have a drink before dinner.” Cecelia linked her arm into Lawrence’s and led him across the room.

  The family was seated around a rectangular mahogany table in the small dining room, adjacent to the kitchens. The main dining hall at the front of the house was reserved for formal occasions only. With its table for one hundred and two, they had little use for it on a daily basis. The family usually ate with Mrs. Oliver and Shilly in the kitchen, but the unexpected arrival of Lawrence Ridley had prompted Mrs. Shillingsworth to move the evening meal to the dining room instead. That and her fear of having to face him again after their earlier encounter.

  Dinner had been a mostly happy affair. Amid the chinking of glasses and cutlery, Alice-Miranda talked nonstop about school and all the things she had done in the past term. Hugh and Cecelia were so pleased to have her home that they hadn’t stopped smiling. Jacinta spent the entire meal gazing at Mr. Ridley, which to begin with he found quite sweet, but after a while thought somewhat unnerving.

  “That was delicious,” Alice-Miranda enthused as Mrs. Oliver appeared and began clearing the plates. “You know, I think your roast lamb is my absolute favorite. And that cauliflower cheese was superb—there’s no one makes it like you do. Mrs. Smith does try, but it’s just not there yet—but please don’t tell her I said so. I would hate to hurt her feelings.” Alice-Miranda began to stand. “Would you like some help cleaning up?”

  “No thank you, darling girl. Shilly was coming but she seems to have disappeared.” Mrs. Oliver frowned.

  “I’ll give you a hand, Dolly.” Hugh rose from his seat at the head of the table and gathered up his and Lawrence’s plates.

  “Thank you, sir.” She nodded.

  “You know, your Mrs. Oliver reminds me of someone.” Lawrence frowned as Dolly and Hugh left the room.

  “She looks just like Mummy’s godmother, Aunty Gee,” Alice-Miranda offered.

  “Would I know your Aunty Gee?” Lawrence quizzed.

  “You might have seen her once or twice,” Cecelia teased.

  “So, what’s it really like being an actor, Mr. Ridley?” said Alice-Miranda, focusing on their guest. “Is it very exciting and glamorous? Do you get to meet lots of other actors and have amazing adventures all over the place?”

  Lawrence wiped a minuscule spot of gravy from his lip and folded his napkin neatly on the table. “I’d say it has its moments,” he began. “There are some very exciting parts and then quite a lot of not-so-exciting parts. We spend a great deal of time rehearsing, then one scene can take days to film depending on how many takes there are. And then when you’re not involved in anything you tend to spend quite a while playing cards with whoever else is at a loose end.”

  “That doesn’t sound very glamorous at all, does it, Jacinta?” Alice-Miranda turned to her friend, who was staring doe-eyed at Mr. Ridley.

  “Yes, glamorous …” Jacinta sighed.

  Alice-Miranda giggled.

  Hugh Kennington-Jones reappeared carrying a tray of steaming chocolate puddings. Mrs. Oliver was close behind with a jug of cream. She followed Hugh around the table setting the bowls down and pouring cream onto the puddings, which were nestled beside a dollop of ice cream.

  “That smells amazing.” Alice-Miranda raised her button nose into the air and drew in a deep breath.

  “Join us, Dolly?” Hugh motioned toward the empty seat beside Mr. Ridley.

  “Thank you, sir, but if it’s all the same, I’ve made some rather exciting progress downstairs and I’m very eager to continue.” She nodded her head, barely suppressing a satisfied smile.

  “That sounds interesting. Mind if I pop down later?” Hugh asked.

  “Perhaps if you wait until next week, I’ll have more to show you,” Dolly replied.

  “You just let me know when I can have a look,” Hugh asked. “Now leave us to do the kitchen. I’m sure
cleaning up will be a novelty for the girls.” Hugh winked at Alice-Miranda.

  “Very well, sir,” said Dolly. She turned and bustled out of the room.

  Lawrence was confused. “Progress? Downstairs? What was she talking about?”

  Hugh’s face mirrored that of a proud parent. “Well, Lawrence, you see, our Dolly is not only the most brilliant cook, she’s also something of a scientist. Years ago, Cee’s father set her up with a laboratory in the cellars and since then she has made amazing discoveries. I’m not entirely sure what she’s up to at the moment. You know she perfected FDF miniaturization earlier in the year?”

  “FDF?” Lawrence frowned.

  “Freeze-Dried Foods,” Alice-Miranda replied. “We’re all trying to come up with a better name for it when it goes into production. FDF is a bit dull. Anyway, Mrs. Oliver started with baked dinners—they’re so delicious you really can’t tell the difference between them and what we had tonight. I ate them for three nights when I was on my hike last term,” she enthused. “And they hardly weigh a thing, so you can carry days’ worth of food without even thinking about it.”

  “Might I have read something about that in the paper a little while ago?” Lawrence asked. “I mean, freeze-drying is nothing new, but this article made out that you could, um, what was it, just add water to a handful of beans and, hey presto, you’ve got yourself a baked dinner?”

  “Yes, that’s right. There was a small article in the Times,” Hugh replied. “But the chap writing it was something of a cynic, and he made it all sound like the stuff of science fiction.”

  “Mrs. Oliver has invented lots of other FDF recipes—she’s so clever.” Alice-Miranda nodded.

  “And now we’re working with Care Planet to get government distribution contracts,” her father added.

  “Really?” Lawrence said thoughtfully. “And she does all that in the cellar here”—he took a mouthful of pudding—“on your time?”

  “Dolly’s not just an employee,” Hugh rebuked his friend. He thrust his spoon into the pudding, spewing a splodge of ice cream over the side of the bowl and onto the tablecloth.

  “Well, I imagine her invention hasn’t made her very popular with some of the Third World bureaucrats,” Lawrence went on, seemingly oblivious to the distaste of his host.

  Hugh swallowed deliberately. “I don’t think any of us cares about whether the local authorities like it,” he retorted. “As long as there’s a water supply, which tends to be the most difficult part of the whole equation, it will work. I think Dolly has made one of the most important discoveries the world has known. We have teams out building wells all over the place, but there’s a lot of red tape.”

  “Must be costing you a bomb,” Lawrence observed. “I hope the old bird cuts you some of the action.”

  Alice-Miranda looked at her father, then at Mr. Ridley as their conversation ricocheted back and forth across the table.

  “That is actually none of your business, Lawrence,” Hugh snapped. “I think this has more to do with giving people a better quality of life. I couldn’t care less about the money.”

  Lawrence looked sheepish. “Don’t get me wrong, Hugh. It’s just that when I was filming in Africa last year it seemed to me that corruption was a way of life in many places. I’d have thought some governments would have been just as happy to see the starving stay that way.”

  “Is that true, Daddy?” Alice-Miranda asked.

  “Unfortunately, sweetheart, Mr. Ridley is right—about that. There are governments who stay in power because they control pretty much everything. Including people’s access to food, housing, education and medical care,” her father said, before shoveling another spoonful of pudding into his mouth.

  “That’s horrible,” Jacinta added, her attention turning from Mr. Ridley for the first time since they had sat down.

  “Well, I’m sure there’d be more than a few people who’d like to get their hands on your Mrs. Oliver’s formulas. I hope she has them locked up tight,” Lawrence continued.

  “She keeps it all up here.” Hugh tapped his temple.

  Lawrence looked aghast. “What? Nothing written down? That’s a bit risky.”

  “Perhaps some basics, but I know the secret ingredients are safely secured in Dolly’s head. It’s likely she has them somewhere else, but she’s never told me,” Hugh replied.

  “Well, I hope nothing happens to the old girl. That’d be a disaster,” Lawrence added.

  “Nothing’s going to happen to Dolly.” Hugh slammed his spoon down onto the table. “She’s as tough as old boots and as clever as a cat. No doubt there’s a contingency plan somewhere—Cee and I will hear about it when we need to,” Hugh replied, fiddling with the corner of his napkin. An uneasy silence hovered in the room.

  Aware of her husband’s discomfort, Cecelia attempted to change the subject. “So tell us, girls, what did you get up to this afternoon?”

  “Look, Hugh, I didn’t mean anything by that,” Lawrence said.

  Hugh glanced across at his wife, then back to their guest. “Yes, well, I suppose the whole situation is a little unusual,” he replied as the frown lines on his forehead began to smooth out. “It’s just that Dolly’s a member of the family, Lawrence. Her work is important to all of us.”

  Lawrence nodded.

  “Sorry, darling,” said Hugh, turning to Alice-Miranda. “Mummy asked what you girls got up to today and we didn’t let you get a word in.”

  “Well, we had the most wonderful time. First we went to see Jasper and Poppy. Then we all went together to visit Daisy and Granny Bert,” Alice-Miranda began.

  “Then we had afternoon tea with the Greenings,” Jacinta continued.

  “And we met that boy, Mummy, the one in the laneway,” Alice-Miranda added.

  “Yes, that awful boy,” Jacinta emphasized. “He was in one of the oak trees in the field and he pelted us with stones. Then he pushed Alice-Miranda over.” Jacinta was still indignant on her friend’s behalf.

  “A boy?” Lawrence looked at Jacinta. “Where did he come from?”

  “Well, I don’t really know exactly. Poppy said that he belongs to them because his mother doesn’t want him anymore,” Alice-Miranda explained. “But that just sounds too awful for words. Imagine, not being wanted.”

  “Does this boy have a name?” Lawrence asked.

  “Lucasss,” Jacinta hissed.

  “Oh,” Lawrence nodded. “Awful, you say?”

  “Yes, he’s a total brat,” Jacinta proclaimed.

  “I wouldn’t say that, Jacinta. We really don’t know him at all. Do you know anything about him, Mummy?” Alice-Miranda asked, turning to her mother.

  “Well, if his name’s Lucas then he’s Lily’s nephew, darling. I don’t know much about him either, other than that he came to stay a couple of weeks ago. I haven’t had a moment to meet him yet. But if he pushed you over, I will have a word to her tomorrow,” her mother added.

  “It’s all right. He didn’t hurt me,” Alice-Miranda protested. “There was something about him, something sad.”

  “How do you mean?” Lawrence asked.

  “Well, I think he’s sad because underneath all that toughness, he’s just angry and upset. If it’s true that his mother doesn’t want him, then really, who would blame the poor boy for being that way? That’s awful. I don’t want him to get into trouble,” Alice-Miranda reassured her parents. “You know I can look after myself.”

  If there was one thing they most certainly did know, it was that their daughter was more than capable of looking after her own affairs. After the term she had just had, they were convinced more than ever that she really was a most capable child.

  That night, Alice-Miranda lay in her bed thinking about her day. She had been looking forward to coming home, and it was so lovely to see everyone. But there was something bothering her. Not anything in particular, just a strange feeling that things weren’t quite right. And Alice-Miranda had a very good nose for strange feelings.

>   Lying in her enormous bed, she felt awfully small.

  Alice-Miranda stared at the canopy above her, fighting off the sleep that threatened to interrupt the movie of the day she was replaying in her head. There had been lots of lovely things, but she was worried about Lucas. And then Daisy was upset too, but she wouldn’t say why. There was that strange black car in the laneway and then Mr. Ridley arrived. He was very friendly and terribly handsome, but he had argued with Daddy at dinner and that had given her a bad feeling.

  Her eyelids were getting heavier and her mind was drifting when the door to her bathroom flew open and Jacinta leapt onto her bed.

  Alice-Miranda sat bolt upright. “What? What is it?”

  “I need you to see something,” Jacinta whispered loudly.

  “What’s the matter?” Alice-Miranda’s brown eyes were at once wide and alert.

  “I just saw Mr. Ridley in the garden.”

  “What were you doing in the garden?” Alice-Miranda asked.

  “Come on, I’ll show you.” Jacinta pulled back the covers and grabbed Alice-Miranda’s arm.

  She opened the bedroom door and leaned her head outside, then turned back to her friend. “Clear!”

  On bare toes, the girls crept along the hallway to the top of the staircase.

  “I think we should use the kitchen stairs.” Alice-Miranda tugged Jacinta’s arm and motioned toward the other end of the hall. “It’s quieter than the foyer, and we don’t want to wake up the whole house, although Daddy seems to have bionic hearing and sleeps with one eye open.” She giggled until Jacinta hushed her with a fierce look.

  “Then stop talking!” Jacinta hissed. “What about Mrs. Oliver and Shilly?”

  “Most likely in bed.” Alice-Miranda pointed at the grandfather clock that stood on the landing halfway down the main staircase. It was about to strike twelve.

  The girls made their way along the hall, anxious that every step could be their undoing. Old houses had a way of giving up their secrets at the most inopportune times; the girls listened for every creak and groan and tiptoed down the kitchen stairs.