Alice-Miranda Takes the Stage Page 8

  “Lucas?” Jacinta asked, wide-eyed.

  The other girls nodded.

  Jacinta gasped. “That’s fantastic. I can’t wait to see him.”

  Millie rolled her eyes. “Three weeks ago, you couldn’t stand him. Now I think you’ve got a serious crush.”

  “No, I don’t,” Jacinta protested. “We just understand each other, that’s all.”

  “Well, I don’t think we’ll get to see Lucas tomorrow.” Alice-Miranda shuffled along, edging closer to where Mrs. Smith was pushing out plates of steaming hot roast beef, crispy potatoes, beans and cauliflower cheese covered with lashings of thick gravy. “But Mummy said that she would see if Aunt Charlotte and Lawrence can pop in and say hello once they’ve got Lucas settled.”

  “Ohhhh,” Jacinta sighed. “Imagine, Lawrence Ridley—here—at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale. Best keep that between us or the poor man will be mobbed. He’s sooo dreamy.”

  Millie and Alice-Miranda giggled.

  “I’m sure you’ll look after him, Jacinta.” Millie grinned.

  “Yes, of course I will. He’s a national treasure and in my favorite ever movie.”

  The girls hadn’t noticed Sloane, who had slipped into the line behind Millie and was eavesdropping on their conversation.

  “Did you say Lawrence Ridley?” Sloane asked. “As in Lawrence Ridley, the movie star?”

  “Oh, hello there, Sloane.” Alice-Miranda leaned around Jacinta and Millie so that she could see her. “Yes, that’s right. Jacinta did say Lawrence Ridley.”

  “How do you know him?” Sloane demanded. “If you actually do, that is.”

  “Oh yes, I really do. We all do. Lawrence is my aunt Charlotte’s fiancé and his son Lucas is starting at Fayle tomorrow. Do you remember I told you about them when we were out riding this morning?” Alice-Miranda smiled.

  “No, you didn’t. You didn’t say anything about Lawrence Ridley. I’d have remembered that,” Sloane replied.

  “Well, I thought I did, but perhaps I didn’t. Anyway, he’s the loveliest fellow and terribly handsome too.”

  “Will I get to meet him?” Sloane demanded.

  “Quite possibly, if he and Aunt Charlotte come over tomorrow once they’ve dropped Lucas off.” Alice-Miranda picked up her knife and fork as the group moved down the counter.

  “You have to introduce me,” Sloane insisted. “Meeting Lawrence Ridley is definitely on my to-do list.”

  “You’re well organized, having a to-do list. Oh, hello, Mrs. Smith.” Alice-Miranda reached the front of the line. “It looks like you’ve outdone yourself tonight. Dinner smells delicious.” She picked up her plate and held it under her nose. “And thank you for the picnic today—it was scrumptious. That chocolate cake was one of the best ever.”

  “My pleasure. Dolly gave me a few pointers with my cauliflower cheese, so I’m hoping that it’s up to scratch. I know there’s no one makes it like she does, but I am trying.” Mrs. Smith pushed forward another plate, which Millie scooped up.

  Alice-Miranda nodded. “I think it looks perfect.”

  Mrs. Smith smiled. It seemed to be her automatic response whenever Alice-Miranda appeared.

  The girls moved off to find a table. Sloane followed rather more closely than Jacinta was comfortable with.

  “Are you going to sit with us, Sloane?” Alice-Miranda turned and asked her. “You’re most welcome.”

  Millie and Jacinta exchanged frowns.

  Sloane gave a halfhearted nod. Although she would have preferred to be with some of the older girls, she wanted to find out more about Lawrence Ridley. It really didn’t seem fair at all that the painful little brat would end up with a movie star for an uncle.

  The dining room hummed as girls swapped stories of their day. Alice-Miranda was so pleased to see Miss Grimm and Mr. Grump sitting with Mr. Plumpton and Miss Reedy, chatting and smiling. Mr. Plumpton’s red nose glowed like a beacon as he roared laughing at something Mr. Grump had just shared with the group. This was exactly what school should be like, she thought. But there was something worrying her too, and it was all to do with her new friend Hephzibah.

  Sloane interrupted her thoughts. “So what’s he really like?”

  “Who?” Alice-Miranda looked up from where she had just pushed her knife through a plump potato.

  “Lawrence Ridley, of course.” Sloane rolled her eyes. “Don’t you ever listen?”

  “Oh, he’s a darling,” Alice-Miranda replied.

  “But what else?” Sloane quizzed.

  “What do you mean, what else?” Alice-Miranda asked.

  “Well, he’s a movie star. He must have loads of girlfriends and go to parties all the time and get himself into lots of trouble,” Sloane purred.

  “No, I don’t think so. He’s really just an ordinary person,” said Alice-Miranda. “More handsome than the average fellow, but perfectly normal, as far as I can tell.”

  Sloane sneered. She was clearly disappointed by Alice-Miranda’s response. “Well, he doesn’t sound like any of the movie stars I know,” she huffed.

  “And who do you know?” Millie queried.

  Sloane glared at Millie. “Loads of people.”

  “Really? Such as?” Millie invited.

  “You wouldn’t know them.” Sloane picked up her plate and stalked off to sit at another table.

  “You know she’s lying.” Millie shook her head. “I’m sure she doesn’t know anyone.”

  “Give her a chance, Millie,” Alice-Miranda replied. “She’s just trying to fit in.”

  Toward the end of the meal, Miss Reedy stood up from her seat and moved to the podium.

  “Ahem.” She cleared her throat. “Girls, I just wanted to remind you all that auditions will commence tomorrow afternoon at two p.m. in the Great Hall. The schedule has been posted on the noticeboard. Please take note of the time you have been allocated and don’t be late, as we have a lot to get through.”

  “That’s so exciting!” Alice-Miranda gasped when Miss Reedy finished her speech.

  “Yes, let’s just hope that you-know-who doesn’t get the main role.” Jacinta nodded toward Sloane, who had taken her dessert off to yet another table. “Her head’s big enough already.”

  Alice-Miranda came to Sloane’s defense. “If she does, she’ll have earned it. You know Miss Reedy doesn’t play favorites.”

  The girls finished their butterscotch pudding and raced off to check the time of their auditions. Millie ran her finger down the list, finding Alice-Miranda at 2:30 p.m., Jacinta at 2:45 p.m. and her own name at 3:00 p.m.

  “I’d better let Mummy know to tell Aunt Charlotte not to come until afternoon tea time so we can all be finished,” Alice-Miranda said as the three girls skipped back to Grimthorpe House and an early night.

  An hour after lights out, Alice-Miranda lay awake in bed, her mind a whirl. She was excited about the auditions tomorrow, but there was something else. She couldn’t stop thinking about Hephzibah. She knew her friend wasn’t ready for one of her parents’ rescue missions—not just yet. Alice-Miranda wanted to visit again in the morning, but she couldn’t go riding on her own. It wasn’t allowed, and for good reason too. There was only one thing for it. She had to tell Millie.

  “Millie,” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

  Millie rolled over and faced her friend. “Yes, I thought you were asleep. I’ve been trying to remember my lines and now I can’t stop thinking about them.”

  “I can’t sleep either—but it’s not because of the auditions. I have to tell you something, but you must promise not to tell anyone else. It’s terribly important.”

  “Of course,” Millie replied as she wriggled out from under the covers and propped herself against her pillow.

  Alice-Miranda sat up and hugged her knees under her chin. A shard of moonlight fell through the window, creating a soft half-light.

  “What is it?” Millie looked at her friend. She couldn’t remember Alice-Miranda ever looking so serious.

&nbs
p; “Well, you know this afternoon when Bonaparte bolted?” Alice-Miranda began.

  “Yes, the little monster. I think that pony of yours has bionic smell power.” Millie giggled at her own joke.

  “That’s for sure. But it’s just that I didn’t tell you the whole story,” Alice-Miranda continued.

  Millie raised her eyebrows. “The whole story?”

  “I met someone, and they helped me find my way back to the fork in the path.”

  “Who was it?” Millie asked. “Was it a gypsy or a tramp or someone?”

  “No, of course not.” Alice-Miranda shook her head.

  “Well, why are you being so secretive about it?” Millie frowned. “Did they hurt you?”

  “Goodness, no!” Alice-Miranda gasped. “We’re friends. I want to go and visit her again tomorrow, and I’d like you to come with me.”

  “Of course I will,” Millie replied. “We’ll go early, just after breakfast.

  “You must promise that you won’t be scared,” Alice-Miranda added.

  “Why would I be scared if she’s your friend?”

  “Well, it’s just that there are stories. You see, she has a rather large number of cats.”

  Millie’s eyes widened. “No!” she gasped. “You didn’t.…”

  “Are you going riding again?” Jacinta moaned as Alice-Miranda and Millie arrived at the breakfast table dressed in their jodhpurs, shirts and boots. Millie placed her plate down opposite Jacinta while Alice-Miranda slid in next to her.

  Ignoring the question, Millie looked up and asked Jacinta if she was training that morning.

  “Of course,” she replied.

  “Then why are you whining about us going riding?” Millie frowned. “You don’t have time to play anyway.”

  “Oh, good point.” Jacinta took a mouthful of cereal.

  “Hello, Sloane.” Alice-Miranda smiled as the school’s newest student set her plate down at the end of their table.

  “Don’t expect me to come riding with you two again,” Sloane grouched when she noticed the way Alice-Miranda and Millie were dressed. “After what you did yesterday, I’ll wait until Hugo arrives, thank you very much.”

  “Well, for your information, we weren’t going to ask you anyway,” Millie replied. “And I thought you said that your horse was called Harry?”

  “No, I didn’t.” Sloane narrowed her eyes. “You just don’t listen.” She stuck her nose in the air, picked up her plate and headed off to sit with Ivory and Ashima, who didn’t exactly look pleased to see her.

  The girls tucked into their breakfast.

  “Yum, that was delicious.” Alice-Miranda licked her lips. “I love Sundays—Mrs. Smith always does something extra yummy.”

  Millie stabbed at the last piece of pancake on her plate and popped it into her mouth.

  “We should get going,” Alice-Miranda suggested. “We don’t want to be late getting back.”

  “If we come back.” Millie raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jacinta quizzed.

  “Nothing.” Alice-Miranda smiled. “Millie’s just being dramatic. Isn’t that one of the lines in your audition piece?”

  “Ha ha!” Millie replied, her face deadly serious.

  “I’ll see you both later, then.” Jacinta scraped the last of her cornflakes from the bowl before starting on her pancakes.

  “Bye,” Millie gulped.

  “See you soon, Jacinta,” Alice-Miranda called.

  The two girls headed for the stables, where they promptly set about saddling Bony and Chops. It was Wally’s day off so, in accordance with school rules, Alice-Miranda scratched a note on the old chalkboard which hung at the building’s entrance, saying what time they were heading out and when they thought they’d be back. It was also one of the rules to say where they were going. Without wanting to lie, Alice-Miranda jotted down—Millie and Alice-Miranda, same as yesterday.

  The girls mounted their ponies and walked lazily out of the stable block and into the warm morning sunshine.

  “You must have had a good sleep, Bonaparte—you do seem to be in a better mood today.” Alice-Miranda squeezed her legs and the pony sprang to life, jogging down the path toward the gate which led to the forest beyond the school’s boundaries. Millie was unusually quiet as she trotted alongside her friend.

  Finally, she spoke. “Are you sure she’s not … you know?” Millie asked for at least the tenth time since Alice-Miranda had shared her secret the night before.

  “Millie, I promise, she’s not. But if you don’t want to come in, you don’t have to,” Alice-Miranda reassured her.

  Millie wanted to believe her tiny friend. But she’d heard the story about the witch a few times since she started at the school. It was hard to believe that it wasn’t true. Deep down, she wasn’t sure if she actually believed in witches at all, but the witch in the woods had been folklore at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale for generations.

  The girls continued through the woods, following the map Hephzibah had drawn for Alice-Miranda the day before.

  As they approached the estate, Bony thrust his nose in the air and whinnied. Alice-Miranda held the reins as tightly as she could. “I don’t think so, mister—you’re not running off today. There are no vegetables in that old patch anyway.” Alice-Miranda guided Millie toward the first set of gates, which yesterday had been a passing blur. Two limestone pillars, an indication of the grandeur of the estate contained within, towered next to an unwieldy yew hedge. The rusted gates, held hostage by years of untended foliage, bore an intricate pattern.

  “Look at that.” Alice-Miranda pulled on the reins and Bonaparte stopped in the middle of the entrance. “Can you see that, Millie?” She pointed at the gate on the left-hand side. “It looks like a giant C wrapped into the iron.”

  Millie nodded, too in awe to speak.

  “Oh, and look there, on the other gate—there’s an M … CM—of course, Caledonia Manor! Gosh, someone went to a lot of trouble with this place,” Alice-Miranda prattled.

  “And look at that.” Millie’s voice trembled. There was a weathered sign covered with vines poking out of the bushes. It read, KEEP OUT! TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.

  “Are you sure we should go in?”

  “Of course,” Alice-Miranda replied. “Don’t pay any attention to that silly old thing.”

  The girls continued on their journey up the overgrown drive, past the ancient vegetable patch with its weedy scarecrows. The ponies clip-clopped toward the dilapidated stable block with its missing slates and grimy walls. A black cat with huge green eyes appeared on the top of the outer wall and was immediately joined by three of his friends—a ginger, a tabby and a gray.

  “Good morning, pussycats,” Alice-Miranda addressed the row of felines. They responded with a cacophony of meows. “How sweet—a welcome song from the Kitty Chorus,” Alice-Miranda giggled.

  It didn’t even raise a grin from Millie. Her mouth seemed plastered shut as she took in their surroundings.

  “We’ll leave the ponies here.” Alice-Miranda slid down off Bonaparte and took the reins forward over his head. She scrounged around in her pocket for a sugar cube, which Bony nibbled from her outstretched hand.

  Millie found her voice. “Why can’t we ride the whole way?”

  “I think it’s safer to tie them up here than somewhere near the house. This is where I left Bony yesterday,” Alice-Miranda replied. “I don’t want him getting any more ideas about that vegetable patch. It’s perfectly safe.”

  Millie hopped down from the saddle and followed Alice-Miranda into the outside stall. Both girls looped their reins through the bridles so the ponies could move freely around the yard. A heavy overnight downpour had half-filled a smooth stone water trough in the corner that Bonaparte rushed straight for.

  “Are you sure they’ll be all right?” Millie followed Alice-Miranda out of the enclosure.

  “Positive.” Her friend nodded, checking the latch. “It’s
not too far to the main house. Just wait until you see it, Millie—it’s amazing.”

  Millie was not convinced. So far, the stables and the gardens looked like a picture from one of her old Grimm’s fairy tale books. She seemed to recall that the owner of that house had some rather nasty magical powers.

  Alice-Miranda took off up the drive with Millie in tow. This time, the cats from the stables seemed happy to stay where they were, lolling about in the sunshine, keeping one eye on their equine friends.

  As the girls reached the second set of gates, Alice-Miranda noticed that the ivy she’d pulled from the gatepost only the day before had already begun to reattach itself to the brass nameplate.

  “Caledonia Manor? More like Creepy Manor if you ask me,” Millie muttered under her breath as she looked around at the fossilized garden urns and enormous derelict fountain overgrown with weeds. She half expected a giant or troll or some other fairytale creature to emerge from the thicket beside them at any moment.

  The girls rounded the final bend and there in all its tumbledown splendor was Caledonia Manor. Millie gasped as Alice-Miranda had done the day before. “It’s huge,” she breathed.

  “Yes, it’s amazing, isn’t it?” Alice-Miranda replied. “Such a lovely house.”

  “Lovely?” Millie questioned. “I can think of some other words that would better describe this place.”

  “Oh, I know it’s far from perfect,” Alice-Miranda began, “but if you look past the flaky paint and the grubby windowpanes, there’s a real beauty underneath.”

  Millie was not so sure. The house was enormous, that was true. But as for beautiful, she was not at all convinced.

  “Come on,” Alice-Miranda called as she ran toward one side of the building.

  Millie gasped again when the girls emerged from the tangled undergrowth and onto the open lawn at the rear of the house.

  Alice-Miranda continued on her way, jogging up the stone steps with their zigzag balustrade. “Hurry up,” she called. Millie’s heart hammered in her chest. Her mouth was dry, as if she’d eaten a bucket of rocks.

  Alice-Miranda reached the back porch and waited for Millie to catch up.