Alice-Miranda in the Alps

by Jacqueline Harvey

  Sep and Sloane took off after her, both determined to not let her win.

  ‘You’re asking for it, Caprice,’ Millie grumbled, pushing herself to her feet. She helped Nina up and seconds later the girls were charging down the slope with Alice-Miranda in hot pursuit.

  ‘Go, Nina!’ Lucas yelled as the girl flew off a jump that propelled her almost level with Caprice.

  Caprice glanced over her shoulder and shrieked. ‘Where did you come from?’

  ‘You’re not so clever now, Miss Smartypants.’ Nina’s hips swung from side to side as she powered down the snowy terrain.

  ‘Don’t let her win!’ Sloane shouted as Nina overtook Caprice.

  Millie and Alice-Miranda were gaining fast. They could see Michaela at the bottom, waving her stock in the air. Suddenly, Caprice let out a scream. Everyone turned to see her hit a jump and fly into the air. She flipped backwards and miraculously landed on her feet.

  Nina crossed the line first with Millie close behind.

  ‘It’s all your fault!’ Caprice wailed as the rest of the children zoomed past her. ‘You forced me over that jump.’

  ‘Nobody made you do anything,’ Millie yelled at the girl. ‘It’s called karma.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Caprice said, shoving Millie on the shoulder. ‘It was a stupid race, anyway.’

  ‘Stop it!’ Michaela ordered. ‘You were lucky that Alice-Miranda saw you, Caprice. You would have frozen up there overnight, and your parents must be worried sick – although, if I were them, I’d be glad for a night off.’

  Caprice’s mouth opened, then closed again.

  ‘Now, stop your nastiness, or I’ll hand you over to the ski patrol and they can look after you until the morning,’ Michaela said.

  ‘She’s fantastic,’ Millie whispered to the others. ‘Do you think she’d be open to teaching at our school?’

  Nina grinned. ‘I’m sure Caprice is not the first spoilt brat Michaela has had to deal with up there.’

  Cecelia Highton-Smith and her husband had spent the day with the Von Zwickys, going through their financial statements and trying to pinpoint exactly when the hotel’s occupancy had begun to decline. There had been a steady drop-off in clientele for the past year but the crisis had really become apparent at the beginning of what should have been their busiest time.

  ‘Have you telephoned any of your regulars who haven’t turned up this year?’ Cecelia asked.

  ‘I’ve tried a couple,’ Florian said, ‘but I’ve had no luck getting through.’

  Cecelia pointed to a name on the list. ‘What about this chap? He seems to have been coming here for the past few seasons.’

  ‘Ah, yes, Herr Schwieserhof,’ Florian said. ‘He and his family have been guests for a long time. I do remember that Valerie telephoned him and found out he was having a knee reconstruction.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ Hugh said, continuing down the list.

  ‘What about this one?’ Cecelia tapped her finger on another name. ‘James Vandergraff.’

  Hugh’s brows furrowed. ‘I know that name from somewhere.’

  The Baron nodded. ‘Herr Vandergraff owns –’

  ‘Vandergraff Industries,’ the two men chorused.

  ‘I saw him last week in St Moritz,’ Hugh said, slapping his forehead. ‘He was staying at Fanger’s Palace. We had a chat about organic farming.’

  The Baron shrugged. ‘Perhaps he just wanted a change of scenery this year.’

  There was a knock on the door and Valerie poked her head inside. ‘Excuse me, I thought you could all do with some refreshments,’ she said, pushing the door open with her body. She walked into the room carrying a tray of tea and biscuits.

  ‘Thank you, Valerie. That’s very thoughtful of you,’ the Baron said as she placed the tray on the sideboard. ‘Hugh, Cee, what would you like?’

  ‘White tea, thank you,’ Cecelia replied gratefully.

  ‘Same for me,’ Hugh said with a grin.

  ‘Are you making any progress with your investigations?’ Valerie asked, picking up the teapot.

  ‘Perhaps, but I think we need to make some telephone calls,’ the Baron replied.

  ‘May I be of any help?’ the young woman asked. She smiled and brought him his cup of tea.

  ‘I think you have enough to do,’ the Baroness said gently. ‘Are the housekeeping rosters completed?’

  Valerie turned around and placed the Baroness’s tea in front of her. ‘Almost,’ she replied. She then poured Cecelia’s tea and set the cup down too. ‘Would you like me to bring you a list of numbers?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary. I’ve got them here,’ the Baron said.

  ‘Oh, did you print that from the computer?’ the girl asked as she went to place Hugh’s tea on the table.

  Florian shook his head. ‘You know how dreadful I am with the technology. We found an older one among the registers from the past couple of years – it should do fine.’

  Valerie turned to put the Baron’s teacup down when, suddenly, she began to wheeze.

  ‘Are you all right?’ the Baron asked. As he leapt up to help her, the teacup went flying. Its milky contents spilled all over the table, soaking the documents.

  ‘I’m so sorry, sir,’ Valerie said, gasping for breath. ‘I need my inhaler.’

  Cecelia jumped up and ran into the office next door. She spotted a large black handbag on the floor beside one of the desks and dived into it, searching for the puffer. She found it in the side pocket and was about to run back with it when she noticed the girl’s phone light up. The ringer was on silent but the caller ID was clear: Aunt Delphine.

  For a fleeting second Cecelia wondered if it could possibly be Delphine Doerflinger, then she shook the thought from her mind and raced back into the room. Valerie was now sitting in a chair with the Baroness hovering nearby, concern etched into her features.

  Cecelia handed the device to Valerie, who tore off the lid and inhaled deeply. ‘Thank you,’ she breathed. ‘That’s much better.’

  ‘You must go home and rest, my dear,’ Giselle said.

  ‘I am fine. It happens all the time,’ Valerie replied, standing up. She looked at the tea-soaked papers. ‘I’ve caused such a terrible mess.’

  ‘Never mind about that,’ the Baron replied.

  While the others were attending to the girl, Hugh dashed out to the kitchenette to get some paper towels. He returned and picked up the sodden pages, attempting to delicately prise them apart.

  ‘Just put them in the bin,’ the Baron said, scooping up a small receptacle from the end of the room.

  ‘I will print you off a new copy right away,’ Valerie said.

  ‘Please do not fuss,’ the Baroness insisted.

  ‘No, really, I am fine. These attacks go as quickly as they come.’ Valerie excused herself and walked to the adjacent office. She sat down at her desk and pulled her phone out of her handbag. There were six missed calls.

  Valerie put the phone down and wriggled the mouse beside her computer. That had been far too close. She resolved to be more careful from now on, and for the moment Aunt Delphine would have to wait. She had a list to print.

  Lights twinkled in the village and on the mountainside as dusk fell. Alice-Miranda stomped up the front steps of the Grand Hotel Von Zwicky. An old man with a bright smile greeted her at the door. ‘Good afternoon, young lady,’ he said.

  ‘Herr Schlappi!’ Alice-Miranda beamed. ‘It’s lovely to see you again.’

  The man dipped his top hat, now flecked with snow. ‘It is lovely to see you too.’

  ‘Have you seen Mummy and Daddy?’ she asked.

  ‘They have been in the boardroom with the Baron and Baroness for most of the day,’ the doorman replied. ‘Would you like me to get them?’

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ the child said. ‘I really need to talk to Mummy, and I shouldn’t walk through the hotel in my ski boots.’

  The man nodded and disappeared through the doors. He promptly returned with Cecelia, w
ho had an anxious look on her face.

  ‘Is everything all right, darling?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, we had the most wonderful day. The snow is beautiful and Michaela took us on lots of secret trails. We found big jumps and we had a race and Nina won,’ the child prattled on excitedly. ‘Oh, and we found Caprice by herself near the top of the mountain. Is it all right if she stays with us?’

  ‘Caprice?’ Cecelia looked out at the children, who were standing together a little way off. She counted the heads and saw that there were indeed eight children instead of seven.

  Michaela waved and skated over to join Cecelia and Alice-Miranda.

  Cecelia smiled at the woman. ‘I hope the children weren’t any trouble.’

  ‘No, not at all,’ Michaela replied. ‘But I do have an extra one for you. I am afraid the cable car had closed and I wasn’t able to take her back over to Cervinia to her parents.’

  ‘Oh, goodness, they’ll be beside themselves,’ Cecelia gasped. ‘I’ll call her mother right away.’

  Cecelia whipped out her phone and scrolled through her list of contacts. She quickly found Venetia Baldini’s number and dialled, hoping that she wasn’t out of range.

  ‘Hello Venetia, it’s Cecelia Highton-Smith,’ she began. ‘Before you say anything I’ve got Caprice here with us in Zermatt and she’s fine.’

  Michaela and Alice-Miranda heard a high-pitched squeak on the other end of the line, and winced.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Cecelia said, trying to calm the distraught woman. ‘She can stay with us tonight and we can meet you somewhere tomorrow. Don’t worry another minute. Let’s talk in the morning, shall we?’ The women spoke for another couple of minutes before Cecelia said goodbye and hung up. ‘Thank you, Michaela. I suspect you’ve earned your keep today.’

  Michaela’s mouth turned up at one side. ‘It’s okay. She’s not the worst I’ve ever come across.’

  Cecelia grimaced. ‘Really?’

  ‘Well, she’s close,’ Michaela conceded with a chuckle.

  ‘Right, let’s go and get everyone sorted,’ Cecelia said, walking out onto the snow. ‘Hello Caprice. This is a surprise.’

  ‘Hi Cee,’ the girl replied sweetly.

  ‘I’ve just spoken with your mother and everything’s fine. We’ll get you some spare pyjamas and you can stay here tonight. Actually, do you want to talk to her? I can call her back.’

  ‘No,’ Caprice snapped. She paused and took a deep breath. ‘I mean, no thank you.’

  ‘I had better get moving,’ Michaela said. ‘I’ll meet you all at the ski school in the morning.’ She gave them a wave and skated off into the fading light.

  ‘Bye,’ the children chorused.

  ‘I should go too,’ Nina piped up.

  ‘Can you ski with us again tomorrow?’ Alice-Miranda asked. She turned to the others. ‘I wish you could all see Nina’s grandfather’s museum. He is so clever. I promise you won’t have seen anything like it before.’

  ‘Perhaps you can come later,’ Nina suggested, although she knew her father would disapprove of her playing any of the instruments. He had caught her a couple of days ago, when he returned from work a little early, and was not at all pleased. He worried that she would break something, not realising that her grandfather had taught her well.

  ‘Nina!’ her father called as he trudged along the roadway towards the house.

  ‘Hello Papa,’ she said.

  ‘Herr Ebersold,’ Cecelia said, stepping forward to shake the man’s hand. ‘I am so sorry to hear about your wife,’ she added quietly.

  ‘Thank you,’ Sebastien replied. He put his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. ‘Did you have a good day?’

  Nina smiled up at him. ‘The best.’

  ‘I can’t wait to hear all about it, but we should probably rescue Frau Gisler from your grandfather first,’ the man joked.

  Nina and Sebastien bade farewell to the group and walked across the street.

  ‘So, is anyone hungry?’ Cecelia asked.

  ‘Starving,’ Lucas replied.

  Sep nodded like a jack-in-the-box. ‘Me too.’

  ‘I could eat a horse,’ Millie said, then thought for a second. ‘They don’t eat horses in Switzerland, do they?’

  ‘No, only in France and Belgium,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  Millie nodded. ‘Phew!’

  ‘Come inside,’ Cecelia said, ushering them over to the hotel steps. ‘I’ll order you hot chocolate and cake while you put your skis and boots in the drying room.’

  The children headed around to the side of the hotel where there was direct access to the ski shop and storerooms beneath the hotel. As Lucas and the others disappeared inside, an explosive whinny sounded from the stables. Millie nudged Alice-Miranda.

  ‘Look,’ she said, pointing to a group of men in black. ‘It’s those maniacs who nearly ran me over.’

  Alice-Miranda looked over and frowned. ‘I wonder what they’re doing,’ she said.

  Millie stood her skis up in the rack beside the door. ‘Come on, let’s see what they’re up to.’

  Alice-Miranda followed suit, and the two girls trudged through the garden. It was impossible to scurry in ski boots but the soft snow disguised their footfalls.

  There was another loud whinny and the sound of a horse stomping its foot. Alice-Miranda and Millie hid behind a hedge, craning their necks to see what was going on. The horses were hitched to the carriage and they could see Marius Roten around the back. One of the men in black was standing in front of Hazel, slapping the horse’s nose with a glove. Millie gasped and was about to run over to stop him when Alice-Miranda grabbed her and held her back.

  ‘Would you leave her alone?’ Marius shouted.

  ‘Why? She likes my tickles,’ the young man retorted.

  Marius stalked around to the front of the carriage. ‘Stop it, Dante!’

  Alice-Miranda glimpsed two men struggling to carry a big white box out of the stables. They lifted it into the trailer that was attached to the back of the carriage. Another two men followed behind them, carrying an identical box.

  ‘Hurry up, this weighs a tonne,’ one of the men groaned.

  ‘Do you think it’s the boxes of Fanger’s Chocolate?’ Millie whispered. ‘I thought Marius said they were empty, and eating them is like nibbling clouds, anyway.’

  Once the second box was loaded, they saw Marius shut the lid of the trailer and secure it with a large padlock. ‘Take your backpacks and get out of here,’ he barked.

  A deep line appeared on the bridge of Alice-Miranda’s nose. She wondered why anyone would take such care to lock a trailer filled with empty boxes.

  ‘Are you ready for the big shipment?’ one of the men said.

  Marius shrugged. ‘The contract hasn’t been signed yet, so I know as much as you.’

  ‘Well, things had better be in place by the end of the week or there will be hell to pay,’ another man said. ‘We need somewhere more secure than this for the amount that is coming.’

  The two girls looked at each other.

  ‘Millie, Alice-Miranda, are you out here?’ Jacinta called into the night.

  The men stopped and glanced over. ‘What was that?’ one of them said.

  ‘Go and look,’ Marius ordered, pointing in the girls’ direction.

  ‘Come on,’ Alice-Miranda whispered, grabbing Millie’s arm. The two of them backed away from the hedge, then turned and dashed through the garden.

  The man walked through the archway and spotted fresh footprints leading to the side entrance.

  ‘Just kids,’ he said, noting the size of the prints.

  Marius narrowed his eyes. He had a strong suspicion it was that pesky little brunette and her red-haired friend, who had arrived yesterday. She was the most curious creature he had come across in a while. He made a note to put a stop to her snooping. He had been working too long and too hard for her to come along and ruin things now.

  Caprice sat down on the
foldaway bed and frowned. ‘This bed is horrible,’ she complained.

  ‘Feel free to go and sleep in another room,’ Millie said. ‘There are plenty of spares.’

  Caprice poked out her tongue and stayed put. The girl would never admit it, but she hated the idea of being on her own in unfamiliar surroundings.

  ‘You can have my bed if you want,’ Alice-Miranda offered, drawing the curtains.

  ‘No, she can’t,’ Millie said, outraged by such a proposal. ‘She shouldn’t even be here.’

  Caprice glared at the girl.

  Millie ignored her and hopped under the covers. ‘You still haven’t told us why you were so mad with your mother.’

  ‘Who said I was mad with my mother?’ Caprice snapped.

  ‘Well, you didn’t want to talk to her on the phone and something must have caused your massive tantrum up there,’ Millie said.

  ‘You won’t care, so why should I tell you?’ Caprice muttered, throwing her full weight back onto the bed.

  Alice-Miranda propped herself up on her pillows. ‘Be fair, Caprice. Millie is one of the most caring people I know.’

  ‘Weren’t you supposed to be at home helping your mother film Sweet Things?’ Millie said, referring to Venetia Baldini’s cooking show.

  ‘The filming went faster than Mummy thought, so Daddy decided we’d go skiing for a week,’ Caprice said. ‘Not that I have to explain myself to either of you.’

  Millie folded her hands behind her head and gazed up at the beautifully carved ceiling. ‘So, you get to come to Italy and Switzerland on a surprise skiing holiday and you’re still in a foul mood?’ she asked, incredulous. ‘I guess there’s no pleasing some people.

  Caprice balled her fists in frustration. ‘Stop talking!’ she ordered.

  ‘You can’t tell me what to do in my own room,’ Millie retorted.

  ‘Please don’t argue,’ Alice-Miranda said, trying to keep the peace. ‘Caprice, are your brothers here too?’

  The girl rolled over to face the wall. ‘Yes, and I hate them all.’

  ‘What on earth did they do?’ Millie asked. She was beginning to wonder if there was anyone in the world the girl actually liked.