Alice-Miranda at Sea
Page 19
‘Good morning, young ladies,’ said Winterstone as he appeared at the bedroom door. ‘I trust you slept well after last night’s adventures?’
‘Oh, yes, Mr Winterstone. It was rather adventurous wasn’t it? But everyone’s fine now and today is going to be wonderful.’ Alice-Miranda charged over to the old man and gave him an unexpected hug.
‘Oh, goodness, what was that for?’ he said, trembling.
‘Just because,’ she whispered. And I love your new haircut too.’
The old man blushed. ‘Ahem, there’s been a delivery for you, miss.’
‘Oh, how exciting. May I have it, please?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to collect this one in person. From Admiral Harding’s study.’
‘That sounds intriguing.’
Alice-Miranda rushed to the bathroom and washed her face. By the time she returned to the bedroom, Winterstone had already laid out her clothes for the day, along with Jacinta’s and Millie’s.
‘Thank you, Mr Winterstone,’ the tiny child called to the steward, who was busying himself pouring juice in the sitting room. He allowed himself the pleasure of a small smile.
Alice-Miranda dressed and headed off to see the admiral. She wondered what on earth could have arrived that had to be delivered to his study all the way up on the bridge. Alice-Miranda knocked loudly before being summoned inside.
‘Sloane,’ she gasped. ‘How wonderful to see you!’
Neville Nordstrom was standing beside Sloane Sykes and two men she didn’t recognise. From the shock of snowy hair and caterpillar eyebrows, she guessed that the shorter one was Neville’s father and the taller man looked rather like Sloane. Aunty Gee was seated beside Admiral Harding with Dalton hovering close behind. Next to the admiral, Alice-Miranda was surprised to see a familiar face, although she’d never met the man before.
‘Hello everyone.’ Alice-Miranda looked around. She offered her hand to the short man with the fair hair. ‘My name’s Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones.’
‘Lenny Nordstrom,’ the man nodded, taking her hand into his.
The taller man shook her hand as well. ‘Smedley Sykes.’
‘Oh, how lovely to finally meet you, Mr Sykes. I’ve heard so much about you from Sep,’ she exclaimed. The man grinned.
Alice-Miranda walked over and shook the final man’s hand. ‘Hello President Grayson, it’s an honour to meet you and a wonderful surprise. I hadn’t expected to see you today. Are you staying for the wedding?’
The handsome man with the chiselled jaw smiled broadly. ‘It’s lovely to meet you too, miss, and yes, Her Majesty has suggested we stay for the night. And you know, it’s pretty hard to say no to her,’ he drawled in his delicious southern twang.
‘Good morning, Aunty Gee,’ Alice-Miranda greeted the monarch.
Queen Georgiana gathered the tiny child into a bear hug.
‘I believe you’ve got quite a tale to tell, young lady,’ Admiral Harding said seriously.
‘Oh, Admiral, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to keep Neville a secret. It’s just that things got so very complicated these past couple of days and . . .’
Admiral Harding held up his hand to stop her babbling. ‘Alice-Miranda, I’m sure that you will regale us with the full tale later. But thanks to your harbouring young Neville with the very dirty shoes, and writing that letter – golly, I am impressed by how this royal mail system works – you’ve helped capture Prendergast and saved Her Majesty’s life.’
‘But how?’ Alice-Miranda gasped. ‘We watched him get away last night.’
‘Well,’ Sloane began. ‘It all started yesterday afternoon when I took your letter around to Neville’s parents. I was showing them what you’d written to me when there was another visitor – a rather unexpected one.’ She pointed at President Grayson. ‘President Grayson was so surprised about what you said that he organised straight away for us to come and make sure that Neville was all right.’
‘But how did you find us so quickly?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘Well, for a start you wrote the letters on the paper from the Octavia,’ Sloane began.
‘I know. I did that on purpose, I’m afraid.’ Alice-Miranda flicked an apologetic smile at Neville. ‘I’d promised Neville that I wouldn’t tell his parents where we were, but I rather hoped you’d pick up on that clue.’
‘And President Grayson is the President of the United States,’ Sloane replied. ‘He has access to quite a few resources.’
‘Oh, of course he does. You should be a detective, Sloane.’
‘Thank you. Anyway, let me get back to the story.’ She was clearly revelling in this. ‘On the way out, we saw a boat bobbing about in the waves. Smoke was pouring from the engine and there was a man on board cursing madly. A message had come through from Interpol to be on the lookout for him. President Grayson’s security men picked him up. And now we’re here,’ Sloane finished.
‘But what about the butterflies?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘That’s another story. And I’m starving. Do you think we could talk about it over some breakfast?’ Sloane asked.
‘Oh, yes, please,’ Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘Millie and Jacinta and the boys will be so surprised to see you all.’
Alice-Miranda raced over and gave Sloane a tight hug. She hugged Neville too.
That evening, Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Lawrence were married under a moonlit sky on the Royal Deck. Alice-Miranda was an adorable flower girl in her pale pink organza dress, carrying a bouquet of matching peonies. Charlotte was breathtaking in a stunning white gown, with a lace bodice and full silk skirt, and Lawrence Ridley lived up to his status as the most handsome movie star on the planet.
At the reception, the ballroom sparkled under thousands of fairy lights and the reflection of hundreds of jewels. It seemed that most of the female guests had taken their style tips from Lady Sarah, and were wearing every piece of jewellery they owned.
‘Aren’t they perfect together?’ Alice-Miranda said out loud as she watched the happy couple making their way onto the dance floor.
‘Absolutely, cuz,’ Lucas replied as he smiled at his father and new stepmother.
As members of the wedding party, Lucas and Alice-Miranda were seated next to each other at the head table but tonight the rest of the children were sitting with their parents.
Ambrosia Headlington-Bear was trying to make up for lost time with Jacinta.
‘I’ll come to school and take you out during the term and I might even rent a cottage nearby and then I can spend some time with you during the week too.’
Jacinta frowned. ‘Mummy, please don’t overdo it. We need to take things slowly, and remember that most days I’m training. I’d much rather you come and visit me a couple of times than promise me the world and deliver nothing. And I don’t need you getting in my way at school. I’ve done fine by myself for this long and I don’t want you turning into one of those dreadful pushy stage mothers. That would be even worse.’
Ambrosia swallowed hard. She wasn’t used to being told what to do and was about to respond when something made her stop.
‘Of course, darling,’ she replied.
Then Jacinta did something completely unexpected. She turned around and hugged her mother tightly. Ambrosia Headlington-Bear didn’t know what to do. Her arms hovered in the air for a few uncomfortable seconds, before she reached out and hugged her daughter right back.
Hugh and Cecelia were standing together with the admiral and Aunty Gee. Dalton was loitering closely to Her Majesty. She stepped aside and motioned for him to join her.
‘Well, Dalton, this is another fine mess you knew nothing about,’ she whispered. ‘Why don’t you go and keep Mrs Marmalade company? I think she needs a dance partner.’
‘But ma’a
m, I don’t think I should,’ Dalton objected.
‘Of course you don’t, but consider this your punishment. You’ve gotten off very lightly.’ Queen Georgiana arched an eyebrow and flicked her hand.
She watched as he grumbled his way across the room to where Mrs Marmalade was standing on the edge of the dance floor.
‘They’ve located Whitley Prendergast, thank heavens,’ the admiral advised as Her Majesty rejoined the group. ‘Apparently his twin brother Arthur had recently been released from prison having served ten years for armed robbery. Whitley was on shore leave two weeks ago and when Arthur came to call on him, the poor unsuspecting lad gave his brother a place to stay and said that he’d help him find a job.’
‘Yes well, I think Arthur helped himself, didn’t he?’ Hugh added.
‘So where has Whitley been all this time?’ Aunty Gee enquired.
‘The police found him tied up in the basement of his house, almost starved to death and delirious with worry,’ the admiral replied.
‘Oh, poor man.’ Aunty Gee clasped her hands together.
‘I was wondering how Arthur seemed to know everything about the ship. But of course he’d had a full week on board before you arrived for the wedding party. I should have known, though, when he offered to help Lush with that stocktake of the medical supplies. Whitley is so dedicated to his role on the bridge he hardly leaves the room when we’re at sea. And here was I being taken for a ride, just thinking that it was good for the lad to assist in other areas. Who’d have thought twins could be so incredibly alike and yet so horribly different?’
‘So is Arthur responsible for those thefts of Russian jewels as well?’ Hugh furrowed his brow.
‘No, I think he just saw the Octavia providing his retirement fund. I called Inspector Gerard this morning to see whether any of this made sense to him, but he said they have a strong lead with the Russian jewels – they’re after some lunatic who thinks he’s Alexei Romanov, the murdered son of the last Russian Tsar. Gerard said they almost had him last week but he’s disappeared again. So, no, Arthur’s not mad, just a nasty piece of work,’ the admiral concluded.
‘Oh well, thank heavens everyone’s safe,’ said Aunty Gee. ‘And this is a lovely wedding.’
‘Thanks to you, Aunty Gee,’ Cecelia smiled at her godmother.
On the other side of the room, Sloane and Sep Sykes were sitting together with their father Smedley, and Neville and his father Leonard.
‘Mummy would have loved all this,’ Sloane smirked.
‘Yes, I think you’re right there,’ her father said. ‘Perhaps we won’t tell her.’
‘Dad?’ Sep shook his head. ‘Where does she think you are? She must be worried sick.’
‘Well, I told her that your sister and I had some urgent business to attend to and we’d be back sometime after Friday.’
‘Poor Mum.’ Sep folded his arms in front of him.
‘Well, I called my wife Sylvia and sent her around to see your September,’ Leonard Nordstrom explained. ‘I suggested that they might like a day at the spa – my treat.’
‘Good plan,’ Smedley Sykes agreed. ‘Might go some way to getting me off the hook.’
‘I hardly think so, Dad,’ Sloane scoffed. ‘Mum was whining about not being invited to the wedding and how it was so unfair that Sep got to go. I think you’ll be buying her flowers every week for the rest of your life.’
Smedley Sykes was lost in his thoughts. He’d spent long enough with September to know that she could hold a grudge. Flowers every week would be getting off very lightly as far as he was concerned.
Millie was sitting at an adjacent table with her parents and fiddling with her camera.
‘I think you’ve found your calling,’ her father laughed.
‘A photographer?’ Millie asked.
‘No, a private investigator,’ he grinned. ‘Or you could be one of those dreaded paparazzo.’
‘Very funny, Dad,’ Millie replied.
‘You’ll have to check back through all your photographs to see if you don’t have any suspicious activity going on in the background,’ her grandfather laughed.
‘I’d like to take a photograph of my family, if I may.’ Millie urged her parents, grandfather and Mrs Oliver closer together. She set the timer on the camera, placed it on the table and raced around to sit on her father’s lap, just as the flash went off.
‘How do we look?’ her grandfather asked.
Millie reviewed the picture and burst out laughing. ‘Grandpa! You weren’t supposed to be kissing Mrs Oliver! We have to take another one.’
Over in the corner of the room, Vladimir had emerged from the kitchen to survey his feast.
Nicholas Lush was standing nearby and walked over to say hello. ‘Your food is wonderful,’ the doctor congratulated him.
‘Yes, food is good,’ Vlad replied. ‘So, your mother, she was Maria Bella Lushkov?’ Vlad asked.
‘Yes,’ Dr Lush nodded. ‘How did you know?’
‘The little one, Alice-Miranda, she bring me the inscription. I translate for her,’ Vlad replied. ‘She clever child. I like her.’
‘Yes,’ Nicholas agreed.
‘And your mother, I love her. She best singer in the world to me,’ Vlad announced.
‘Thank you, Vladimir. Thank you very much.’ Nicholas Lush reached out and shook the chef’s hand.
Sitting among the band members, Alex glanced up and gave the pair a wave.
Back at the Sykeses’ table, Smedley was still worrying about how he might appease his wife and was listening to a range of suggestions from the children and Lenny.
‘Excuse me, Mr Nordstrom, may I borrow your son for a moment?’ President Grayson interrupted.
‘Of course, your presidency, I mean your highness, I mean Mr President,’ Lenny Nordstrom fumbled his words.
‘Please just call me Gatsby.’ The President slapped Lenny playfully on the back.
‘Of course.’ Lenny’s ears turned bright red.
President Grayson led Neville to the corner of the room, where there were a couple of armchairs.
‘Please sit,’ the President directed. ‘I’m sorry about what happened, son, with us talking on the internet. It’s just that you were too clever and I wasn’t.’
‘What do you mean?’ Neville’s forehead wrinkled.
‘Well, you worked out who I was and so the Secret Service and the CIA and the FBI and Homeland Security and all those people who have to protect me decided that you were a threat. And that’s why I couldn’t talk to you any more. But you’d told me enough and so I wanted to see for myself. I had to go find you. You’re a smart boy, Neville, and we’re gonna save those butterflies and we’re gonna make sure that habitat is protected forever.’
Neville grinned. ‘Thank you, Mr President.’
Over on the dance floor, Alice-Miranda and Lucas had been taking a twirl, then decided to have a break. Lucas went to get some drinks when Alice-Miranda spied Neville and the President.
‘Oh hello, Neville, Mr President.’
‘Hello there, little lady,’ said the President. ‘Come join us.’
‘I didn’t mean to intrude,’ Alice-Miranda replied.
‘That’s quite all right. Young Neville here was just about to tell me exactly how he discovered that Euchloe Bazae.’
‘He has the most amazing photographs. You’ve got to see them.’
Neville blushed. ‘Perhaps we could have breakfast together tomorrow, Mr President,’ Neville suggested. ‘I can show you everything then.’
‘Well that sounds perfect, young man, just perfect.’ President Grayson stood up. ‘I think I might see if your Aunty Gee fancies a spin around that dance floor.’
Alice-Miranda sat down in the armchair opposite Neville.
&nb
sp; ‘Thank you,’ the boy said, looking at her. His ink-blue eyes sparkled and he grinned widely.
‘What for?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘For everything,’ Neville replied.
Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘Would you like to?’ She glanced towards the dance floor, which was packed with guests.
Neville nodded.
‘Okay, but Granny Bert’s looking very dangerous out there with that stick – consider yourself officially warned.’
Neville took Alice-Miranda’s hand and led her into the crowd. Millie and Jacinta, Sloane, Sep and Lucas soon joined them, dancing and twirling and laughing. Millie snapped away taking photographs of everyone.
‘You know,’ Alice-Miranda beamed, ‘this really is the best day ever.’
Arthur Prendergast returned to prison for a very long time, convicted of armed robbery, kidnapping and attempted murder of the Queen – but he wouldn’t own up to bringing the prawns on board. His brother Whitley spent a few days in hospital recovering from his ordeal and returned to work to a rousing welcome. Henderson was given a stern talking-to from the admiral but was relieved to keep his job.
Upon reaching their destination in Venice, Dr Lush and Alex invited Alice-Miranda to go ashore with them. The tiny child stood in silence on the Rialto Bridge over the Grand Canal as the two men scattered their beloved mother Maria Bella to the wind, just as she had wanted.
Mr Winterstone took Alice-Miranda’s advice and decided that he would try to inject some fun into his life. The first thing he did was take a spin on the new jet boat with Her Majesty, Granny Valentina and a very attentive Dalton.
Sloane Sykes turned over a new leaf. She promised to write to Alice-Miranda and secretly hoped she might convince her father to allow her to go back to Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale.
Neville had been wrong about the butterfly in the frame. It hadn’t belonged to his grandfather at all. It was his father’s. It seemed Leonard loved butterflies as much as the President.