“She’s Mummy and Daddy’s cook. She can stay for the whole time you’re away, and she’s really not half bad either,” said Alice-Miranda, “although she simply can’t bake brownies like yours. So, Mrs. Smith, I think you should go pack your bags and I’ll keep an eye on that pot.” Alice-Miranda pulled up a stool to stand on.
Before she had time to change her mind, Cook handed the wooden spoon to Alice-Miranda and rushed to her room. She could hardly believe what she was doing—but it appeared that Alice-Miranda was not a child to be trifled with.
An hour later, Alice-Miranda heard the familiar chop-chop-chop of Birdy’s whirring blades. It was a sound she had come to recognize well in her seven and one-quarter years. It usually meant that her parents were home and it always made her heart pound with excitement. Cyril landed the helicopter on the lower oval, and out hopped Mrs. Oliver, suitcase in hand. She wore her trademark blue suit, and her immovable brown curls sat immaculately in place as always. Hugh Kennington-Jones often teased that he thought Dolly must take her hair off at night and rest it on the nightstand. It was a running joke in the Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones household that Dolly could well have been the lost sister of the Queen. She had the same regal look—even when she was emerging from under the rotors of a helicopter. Within a minute Mrs. Smith had hopped in and Birdy hovered overhead, leaving Miss Grimm in her study wondering what that infernal noise was.
Mrs. Oliver was installed in the kitchen in a blink. Miss Grimm’s dinner was delivered without a minute’s delay and for the first time in years she ate everything on her plate and secretly wished for more. Mrs. Smith might have been the best brownie cook in the world, but Dolly Oliver could do cauliflower cheese better than anyone Alice-Miranda knew.
That evening, Alice-Miranda had her tea in the kitchen with Mrs. Oliver and Jacinta, then took herself off to her room to read. Miss Higgins came to tuck her in and say goodnight.
“Now, I’ll be busy in the morning,” Miss Higgins said distractedly as she smoothed the blanket, “but I shall leave Cook a note to ask her to wake you.”
Alice-Miranda thought she should probably explain about Mrs. Smith’s holiday, but Miss Higgins was in even more of a muddle than she had been earlier in the day, mumbling about unreliable house mistresses and mountains of work to be done. So Alice-Miranda decided that she wouldn’t worry Miss Higgins with the news—she would simply tell Miss Grimm in the morning instead.
She was really quite exhausted and looked forward to it being Sunday tomorrow. There would be lots of girls arriving back for the start of term and Alice-Miranda could hardly wait to meet them. She kissed Brummel Bear on the top of his head and drifted off to sleep.
Over in the headmistress’s study, Miss Grimm’s mind suddenly turned to the uncomfortable incident earlier in the day. She hadn’t seen a child for years and this one was the most insistent little creature she could remember. Ever since their meeting, Miss Grimm had had a knot in her stomach that felt as if it were being steadily pulled at either end. She tried to put all thought of the brat out of her mind. It wouldn’t do. Really, it wouldn’t do at all. Her school was a tight ship and her job was to keep it that way.
Alice-Miranda rolled over and rubbed her sleepy eyes. She yawned and stretched, then studied the pattern on the ceiling. She’d slept well, being quite used to staying in unfamiliar places when she traveled with her parents. The boardinghouse around her creaked and groaned as though it was waking up too. Her own house, Highton Hall, was full of grumbles in the morning—she liked to lie in bed and listen, imagining that the house was like an old friend full of stories. This morning she was wondering about the tales that this place, Grimthorpe House, could tell. Alice-Miranda picked up Brummel Bear and was about to ask him how he’d slept, when Mrs. Oliver popped her head around the door.
“Good morning, darling girl,” she said with a smile.
“Hello, Mrs. Oliver,” said Alice-Miranda, sitting up. “Did you sleep well?”
“Not too badly, although I have to say poor Mrs. Smith’s bed is a brute. The woman will come back better than new if she just has some time on a decent mattress,” Dolly said with a frown. “Now, you need to get yourself dressed, poppet, and come to the kitchen. And I’d best get a move on myself.” Dolly bustled out of the room.
After breakfast—the most delicious eggs Benedict with smoked salmon—Alice-Miranda headed off to find Miss Grimm. She couldn’t believe that even on a Sunday the headmistress would be too busy to speak with one of her students. Besides, Alice-Miranda was eager to let her know about Mrs. Smith’s holiday.
The door to Miss Higgins’s office was slightly ajar. Alice-Miranda knocked loudly and poked her head around the corner. There was no one inside, but a sliver of light came from Miss Grimm’s study. Alice-Miranda scurried through the office and pushed open the study door, announcing herself with a cheerful “Hello, Miss Grimm, are you there?” She clicked the door shut behind her.
Miss Grimm was sitting at her desk, pen in hand, except this time she was not in her dressing-gown.
“Oh, there you are, Miss Grimm. I knew Miss Higgins had made a mistake with her note yesterday. I simply knew it wasn’t true that you didn’t see students—that would be ridiculous. Allow me to introduce myself properly. I know yesterday I caught you when you were obviously not ready to see anyone, but today, goodness, what a lovely suit. I think my mummy has one quite like it. Are you friends with Mr. Valentino too? I hope so. He simply is the most charming man and he has already told me that when I get married in a squillion years’ time he wants to make me a gown. Dear me, I am talking a lot. My name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I am truly honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Grimm.” Alice-Miranda walked around the desk and held out her hand.
Miss Grimm swiveled slightly in her chair and peered over her spectacles, as if she were inspecting a grubby spill on the carpet. Alice-Miranda’s hand hovered before finally, after what seemed more than a minute, Miss Grimm reached out. As their fingers met, Miss Grimm recoiled, pulling her hand away as though she’d been snapped at by an angry terrier. Alice-Miranda jumped in fright. The friction between them was like a bolt of lightning. Miss Grimm’s face drained of color—she looked as if she had seen a ghost.
Alice-Miranda giggled. “It must be the dry wind. All that static electricity in the air. It makes my curls very frizzy.” She twisted a strand of hair around her finger. Miss Grimm stared.
Alice-Miranda looked around the study and spied the empty breakfast tray on the side table. She inquired whether Miss Grimm had enjoyed her meal. Miss Grimm’s eyes were fixed on Alice-Miranda but she seemed to nod ever so slightly.
“I am glad. You see, I hope you don’t mind, but I have sent Mrs. Smith away to America for a holiday.”
“You’ve done what?” Miss Grimm whispered. The color rose back into her cheeks.
“Well, I know I should have asked you yesterday and goodness, I did try, but you were not ready for visitors and when I came back there was a note saying that you were too busy to see anyone. I had arranged it already and I really didn’t think you’d mind all that much as long as there was someone to cook your dinners. I’m sure you’ll agree that Mrs. Oliver hasn’t let us down yet. Last night’s dinner was simply delicious and her eggs Benedict is one of the best I’ve ever tasted. You should have seen Mrs. Smith. She was so excited when she flew off in Birdy.”
Miss Grimm’s mind wandered to the delectable cauliflower cheese from last evening. She couldn’t remember eating anything so tasty in years. But there was still the troubling issue of this child and her impudence.
“Alice-Matilda, I will not have my students arranging things without my knowledge. I run a tight ship here at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale and I will not have the likes of you ruining things,” Miss Grimm hissed.
Alice-Miranda took a giant step backward. “I beg your pardon, Miss Grimm, it’s Alice-Miranda, and I am sorry about the timing. I know I should have asked you first but I co
uldn’t help myself when I saw how sad Mrs. Smith was about her grandchildren.”
“Grandchildren? What are you talking about? The woman is barely old enough to be married, let alone to have grandchildren,” Miss Grimm retorted.
“But she does have grandchildren. I’ve seen the photographs. And I beg your pardon, Miss Grimm; I’m no expert but I think Mrs. Smith is quite a lot older than you think.”
At this stage Alice-Miranda felt it best to retreat to the other side of the desk. She climbed up onto a chair, a safe distance from Miss Grimm.
“Anyway, Mrs. Smith will be back in two weeks and I’m sure that she will be so much happier. Holidays are very important. When was the last time you had a proper break away from the school, Miss Grimm? Somewhere you could read books and eat all manner of tasty things and lounge about doing absolutely nothing—if that’s what you wanted.”
“Frankly that’s none of your business, Alice-Marika.” Miss Grimm pulled her lips together very tightly. “I’m not interested in holidays. I’m interested in results. Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale didn’t get its reputation by being on holiday.” She thumped her fist on the desktop.
Alice-Miranda sat up straight in her chair. She drew in a deep breath. “Yes, Miss Grimm, I quite agree, but everyone needs a holiday at least once a year, and twice and three times is even better. Anyway, I don’t think we need to talk about that anymore. There are a couple of other things I’m worried about.”
Miss Grimm stared at the large leather-bound book in front of her.
“I really don’t have time for this, Alice-Morganna. As far as I know there are no problems in my school, and if there were, Miss Higgins would alert me immediately. So, if you wouldn’t mind, I have pressing business to attend to and you need to go and do whatever it is that students do.” Miss Grimm began to write at a furious pace. She did not look up again.
Alice-Miranda knew that things were far worse than she had first feared. With or without Miss Grimm’s help, there were jobs to be done. She slipped off the green leather chair and scampered to the door.
“Goodbye, Miss Grimm. I’ll come and see you tomorrow when you have a minute, unless of course you’d like to take a walk in the garden later today. It’s such a beautiful morning—Mummy says days like these are priceless treasures and I couldn’t agree more,” she said hopefully. She turned the brass doorknob and slipped into Miss Higgins’s office, closing the door behind her.
“Hello, Miss Higgins.” Alice-Miranda smiled.
Miss Higgins almost fell off her chair. It seemed that was something she did quite regularly.
“Alice-Miranda, wherever did you come from?” Miss Higgins asked anxiously.
“I’ve been having a lovely chat with Miss Grimm, but she’s very busy now so I have to come back tomorrow.”
“Didn’t you get my letter?” Miss Higgins clenched her hands together.
“Yes, of course, but I thought you couldn’t possibly be serious. It’s just plain silly. Of course Miss Grimm sees people. How else would she know what goes on?”
Miss Higgins put her face in her hands—as though she were watching a really scary horror movie and something terrible was about to happen.
“Are you all right, Miss Higgins?” Alice-Miranda asked.
“Oh, Alice-Miranda, I can’t believe that you ignored my letter. Whatever were you thinking going back in there again?” She clasped her hands so tightly they were beginning to turn white.
“It’s all right, Miss Higgins. Miss Grimm and I had a good talk. I told her all about Mrs. Smith’s holiday to America and that Mrs. Oliver was having a marvelous time in the kitchen. I think she really liked Mrs. Oliver’s cauliflower cheese.”
“Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Smith’s holiday?” Miss Higgins’s face was ghostly white.
“Well, when I met Mrs. Smith yesterday she was very upset and it turns out that she was awfully sad that she had never gone on holiday to America to see her grandchildren. I asked her why—I mean, if it was because she couldn’t afford it, I could well understand, but she said that wasn’t the problem at all and she had lots of money saved up. The real reason was that Miss Grimm wouldn’t let her take a holiday because there would be no one to cook her dinners. So I called Daddy and asked if I could borrow our cook, Mrs. Oliver, and he said yes. He and Mummy are going to town for a little while and so Mrs. Oliver wasn’t busy anyway. And would you believe that Daddy was sending our plane to America for some special refitting and it was leaving yesterday afternoon?” Alice-Miranda paused and took a deep breath. “Anyway, it was too splendid an opportunity to miss and so Daddy sent Cyril, Birdy and Mrs. Oliver and then Mrs. Smith hopped into Birdy and away she flew. She’ll be back in two weeks and I’m sure that she will be a different person. I can’t imagine what it must be like for her never to see her grandchildren—I mean, most grandparents adore their grandchildren more than anything in the world. I know my granny does. She’s always in trouble with Mummy for spoiling me. So I tried to tell Miss Grimm all about it yesterday but you left me the note and then I thought I would tell you last night but you were so busy, so I came today to catch her up.”
“Oh dear.” Miss Higgins looked close to tears. “Was she awfully mad?”
“No, not at all. We had a lovely chat about holidays.”
Miss Higgins’s forehead wrinkled like a dried apricot. “Did she really talk to you … about holidays?”
“Well, sort of. I told her that I think everyone needs to take holidays at least once a year and possibly twice, and even better still, three times. I don’t think Miss Grimm’s been on holidays for years,” Alice-Miranda explained.
“You’re right about that.” Miss Higgins frowned. “Now, young lady, for your own good, I really must beg you not to visit Miss Grimm again. She doesn’t like to be interrupted and I am afraid that having to deal with you will likely have put her into a very bad mood.”
“I don’t think she’s in a bad mood,” Alice-Miranda thought out loud. “Perhaps she just needs to get out more.”
And with that Alice-Miranda skipped out of the office and down the hallway. She had far too many things occupying her mind to be worried about Miss Grimm’s mood.
Alice-Miranda took herself for a walk through the gardens. She was busy thinking about how to help Mr. Charles. Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale had beautiful grounds indeed. There were miles and miles of hedgerows, enormous oak trees and even a maze made entirely from tightly clipped box hedges, but it was true: there were no flowers. Alice-Miranda decided that it was like looking at the Mona Lisa without her smile. While it was almost perfect, there was just one thing that would make it even better. Alice-Miranda ran off to call her parents.
“Hello, Mummy,” she said, beaming down the line.
“Oh, darling, it’s so good to hear your voice.” Her mother did not even try to hide the fact that she was crying.
“Mummy, do stop crying. Are you and Daddy having an awfully bad time in town?” Alice-Miranda asked.
“No, of course not, sweetheart,” her mother replied.
“So you’re having a lovely time and I am too. Please don’t be upset. Before you can even think about it, it will be midterm and I’ll be home again,” Alice-Miranda said sternly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” her mother replied.
“Mummy, there is something I thought you could help me with.”
“Anything, darling.”
“Well, you know the grounds here are lovely,” Alice-Miranda began.
“Of course I do. I remember when I was a girl, the gardens were simply bursting with flowers: hollyhocks and daffodils, jonquils and irises. Every time one of the girls had a birthday, all her friends would make the most beautiful crown of flowers for her to wear all through the day and into the night.”
“Well, I don’t see how the girls could do that anymore.”
“Why ever not, darling? Don’t tell me some silly girl was stung by a bee and now it’s too dangerous?” Alice-Miranda’s moth
er giggled.
“No, Mummy. It’s just that, well … there are no flowers,” Alice-Miranda whispered.
“Of course there are flowers. Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale is famous for its flowers. I remember kindly old Weatherly—he had the greenest thumbs.”
“No, Mummy, I can assure you—there are no flowers.”
“Why ever not?” Her mother sounded shocked.
“You see, I was talking to Mr. Charles—I think he must be Mr. Weatherly’s son—and, well, he’s in charge of the gardens now and is quite the gentlest giant of a man.” Alice-Miranda hesitated. “He says that Miss Grimm doesn’t like flowers. Can you imagine anyone not liking flowers? It sounds too silly for words. I’m sure she must be allergic.” Alice-Miranda stated it as a known fact.
“Yes, I’m sure you’re right, sweetheart. Imagine not liking flowers—they are one of life’s purest pleasures.”
“Mummy, do you think you and Daddy could help bring back the flowers?” Alice-Miranda asked.
“Yes, of course, darling. I’ll send Mr. Greening and his team right away. Do you know, Daddy was telling me only yesterday that some very clever people working in our development laboratory have just created the most perfect array of flowers with absolutely no smell at all? People with nasty hay fever and other allergies can have them in their gardens without getting all sneezy and wheezy.”
Alice-Miranda beamed at her mother’s words. “Oh, thank you, Mummy. I know that once Miss Grimm sees the flowers she’ll just love them. I’d better go. There are loads of girls arriving and I want to meet every single one.”
Alice-Miranda’s heart leapt for joy.
Alice-Miranda bounced off to the front of the school. There was a row of shiny cars lining the driveway. Girls of all shapes and sizes were gathering their suitcases and darting off this way and that. Alice-Miranda couldn’t wait to meet them all and decided she must go at once to make friends. The first girl she came across was not much bigger than herself but with a brilliant crown of red hair. Her face was covered in freckles and she wore a particularly stylish pair of green spectacles.
Alice-Miranda at School Page 3
