‘Daniel, it’s not your fault. Come and sit down and we can talk about things.’
‘I don’t want to,’ he said, sucking in a deep breath. He could feel the anger surging. ‘I’m going for a run.’
‘Please, just stay here with me,’ Becca called after him, but Daniel was already gone.
She watched through the glass door as he jumped the low stone wall that separated their farmhouse garden from the open field and jogged off into the distance.
Mr Trout’s fingers ran along the piano keys as he ended the accompaniment with a flourish. He closed his eyes and meditated on the last note before speaking. ‘Caprice, that was astonishing!’
Harold Lipp nodded. ‘I have a good feeling about you retaining that crown at the National Eisteddfod, my dear.’
Caprice Radford smiled sweetly and flounced her copper curls over her shoulder. ‘I love that song. Do you really think it suits my voice?’
‘It’s perfect and you can thank Mr Lipp for that,’ Cornelius Trout replied as his colleague gathered his musical scores together and placed them into a briefcase.
‘I just knew it would be right.’ Harold smiled, then glanced at his watch. ‘Oh dear, I must get going or I’ll be in trouble with Professor Winterbottom. We’ve got a late staff meeting. I’ll see you again soon.’ And with that he hurried out the door.
Cornelius Trout stood up and closed the piano lid. ‘You must be exhausted, Caprice. I’ll walk you back to the boarding house.’
Although Mr Trout and Mr Lipp had expressed their disappointment with the girl’s behaviour at the school camp, both men seemed to get over it very quickly – unlike horrible Mr Plumpton. Caprice couldn’t believe he wouldn’t allow her to miss a few silly Science lessons so she could fit in extra singing rehearsals. His classes were mind-numbing anyway and she could already recite the periodic table off by heart.
Her thoughts wandered to the uncomfortable conversation she and Millie had overheard in Miss Grimm’s study that morning. Plumpton was definitely out to get her. There was no reason why he should think the paint bombs were her doing when all the evidence pointed straight at Millie. The girl’s mind raced as she tried to think of what lesson she could teach the man for being so mean.
‘Come along,’ Mr Trout said, ushering her from the room.
As they reached the entrance to the building, Miss Grimm appeared. ‘Oh, good, you’re still here,’ she said. ‘Mr Trout, could we have a quick chat about the music for this week’s assembly?’ the woman said.
‘I was just about to walk Caprice back to the boarding house,’ Cornelius replied.
Ophelia didn’t want to miss her favourite television show that was due to start in half an hour and she knew that conversations with Mr Trout tended to be longer rather than shorter. ‘I’m sure Caprice is more than capable of getting herself back to the house.’ The headmistress looked at the girl. ‘Aren’t you?’
Caprice nodded. ‘Of course, Miss Grimm.’
She said goodnight and walked down the path and across the quadrangle. Lights shone in the kitchen window and she could see Mrs Smith’s silhouette at the sink. Caprice was lost in her thoughts when she rounded the corner, past the newly planted flowerbeds, and heard a plaintive cry. She stopped and glanced around. ‘Hello?’ she said softly. ‘Who’s there?’
A mournful squeak replied.
Caprice crouched down and peered through the flowers. She parted some spindly chrysanthemums and saw a puppy with huge eyes and a wagging tail sitting in the garden. She knelt down and held out her hand. ‘Aren’t you cute,’ she said.
The puppy took a couple of tentative steps forward, then retreated underneath a large leaf.
‘Are you hungry?’ Caprice asked. She felt around in her pocket to see if she had anything to eat, but all she found was an empty lolly wrapper.
The pup began to cry again.
‘Stay there and I’ll get you something,’ Caprice instructed.
She fled across the quadrangle and around the back of the kitchen to the garbage bins. As much as Caprice loathed the idea of rummaging around in the rubbish, the puppy needed food and this was the best place to find it. She lifted the lid and reached for a couple of slices of meat, gagging at the smell.
‘He’d better appreciate this,’ Caprice muttered, cringing at the touch. A slimy splodge of gravy fell onto her shoe. ‘Gross!’
Caprice carried the leftovers back to the garden and was glad to find the puppy hadn’t moved. She knelt down and offered him a scrap of that night’s roast beef. The pup’s nose twitched and its body shook as it rushed forward only to retreat again. But the lure of the food was too great. The little creature eventually snatched the piece of meat from Caprice’s hand and chewed as if there was no tomorrow. She grinned and waited until he’d finished before offering the second piece. When he was done, Caprice leaned in and picked up the tiny pup.
‘Pooh, you stink,’ she said, screwing up her nose. Despite his offensive odour, Caprice giggled when his tongue shot out and licked her on the cheek.
She paused to consider what to do next. Miss Grimm would probably call the dog catcher, who’d take the puppy to the pound. It didn’t even cross the girl’s mind that someone might be missing him. Caprice had always wanted a dog of her own but she’d always had to share her pets with her brothers. The little puppy looked at her; his big brown eyes were just about the saddest thing she’d ever seen.
‘I could look after you,’ she whispered. ‘You could be all mine.’
Caprice pondered where to hide him. As a whinny sounded in the distance, the perfect spot sprang to mind. It was warm and dry and she would even be able to give him a bath to get rid of that stink. She could take him food every morning before the girls were awake. This was going to be the best secret ever. Caprice cradled the pup against her chest and made a beeline for the stables.
Alice-Miranda was up early, determined to have a word with Caprice before they left for breakfast. Last night she’d helped Millie clean the Science lab – they’d been up to their elbows in rubber gloves and bleach, donning face masks to avoid the fumes. Mr Plumpton and Charlie Weatherly had helped too, which Alice-Miranda and Millie both agreed was very kind. The two girls had got back to the boarding house in time for showers and bed. Caprice hadn’t returned from her rehearsal, which Alice-Miranda had thought a bit odd, as she’d spotted Mr Lipp’s car roaring off down the driveway while they were walking back to Grimthorpe House.
Millie rolled over and stretched her arms up above her. ‘Where are you going?’ she asked.
‘To talk to Caprice,’ Alice-Miranda replied, tying the laces of her school shoes.
‘She’s never going to confess, you know,’ Millie said. ‘She’ll just come up with some evil plan to get you too.’
‘We’ll see.’ Alice-Miranda gave Millie a wave and almost bumped into Sloane, who walked out of her bedroom door at the same time, yawning loudly. The girl had a towel slung over her shoulder and a shower cap perched on her head. ‘Good morning,’ Alice-Miranda sparkled.
‘Ohhh, I hate Howie’s stupid bell,’ Sloane griped. ‘Jacinta says that the housemistress at Caledonia Manor doesn’t even own one. Sounds like heaven.’
Alice-Miranda chuckled. ‘Did you get your reading done?’ she asked.
Sloane nodded. ‘Nearly. I fell asleep and woke up at half past two with the book over my face. It’s a miracle I didn’t suffocate. Imagine the obituary: Death by Dickens.’
Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘Is Caprice in your room?’
Sloane shook her head and rubbed her sleepy eyes. ‘I think she’s having one of her extra-long showers.’
‘She wasn’t in the bathroom,’ Alice-Miranda replied, frowning. ‘I’ll check the sitting room.’
‘See you at breakfast,’ Sloane said.
Alice-Miranda scurried along the hallway to the back room, where Mrs Howard was busy sewing a button onto one of the girls’ blazers.
The woman looked up from her needlewo
rk. ‘Good morning, dear. You’re up bright and early.’
‘Good morning, Mrs Howard. Have you seen Caprice?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘I’m afraid not. She was late in last night, but I haven’t spotted her this morning.’ The woman finished her last stitch and cut the cotton thread, yawning widely.
‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Like a stone, which is just as well because I am getting far too old for all this,’ the housemistress sighed.
Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘You always say that, but you still come back every term.’
‘Well, you know I would have thought seriously about retiring if things had worked out with Ursula, but now that the woman has decided to become a teacher, I can’t leave you lot to your own devices, can I?’ Mrs Howard said. ‘Not until I find a suitable replacement.’
‘It wouldn’t be the same without you,’ Alice-Miranda said.
Mrs Howard scoffed. ‘You’d get used to it.’
‘Will Ursula still come on the weekends when Mrs Shakeshaft isn’t available?’ Alice-Miranda asked. The girls had enjoyed having someone a bit younger taking care of them. Ursula Frost had recently quit her job working for Silas Wiley, the Mayor of Downsfordvale, and had taken up some casual employment at the school. Alice-Miranda had helped the woman reunite with her father, Stan Frost, who lived in a pretty cottage called Wood End, hidden deep in the woods a few miles from the school. Mrs Howard, who liked the young woman immensely in spite of the fact that she was Myrtle Parker’s niece, had been truly hopeful that house-mistressing might have suited her as a permanent career change but, alas, that wasn’t to be.
‘Yes, I think so. Whenever she can,’ Mrs Howard replied. ‘She’s coming this weekend so I can pop over and visit my sister.’
Alice-Miranda decided to search the rest of the house and then quickly say hello to Bony and Chops before breakfast. The ponies had been delivered back to school on the previous Saturday, having spent the term break at Highton Hall. Max, the Highton-Smith-Kennington-Joneses’ stable-hand, had put the pair on a strict regime of diet and exercise. Alice-Miranda had hoped that Bony’s manners might have improved, although, given the number of times he’d bitten Chops’s tail when she and Millie had been riding on Sunday afternoon, she didn’t think it was likely.
Alice-Miranda backtracked to Sloane and Caprice’s room but it was still empty.
‘Did you find her?’ Millie asked, warily poking her head into the corridor.
Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘I’ll talk to her later. Do you want to come up to the stables with me?’
Millie nodded. ‘I’d better say hello to Chops or he’ll think I don’t love him anymore.’
The two girls darted along the hallway and out the back door.
‘Do you think Miss Reedy is turning into a bridezilla?’ Millie asked, thinking back to the night before. The English teacher had stopped in and had a very long conversation with her fiancé about table decorations. She was extremely particular and, although it was obvious that Mr Plumpton didn’t mind what she decided, the woman had gone on and on and on. The girls didn’t hear the final decision, as the couple had ducked out into the corridor, but if the stomping noises were anything to go by, Miss Reedy hadn’t been happy.
Alice-Miranda giggled. ‘If you’d asked me yesterday morning, when Sloane and I were talking to her, I’d have said no, but who knows after last night. Weddings can do strange things to people.’
‘Just you watch,’ Millie said. ‘She’s a control freak at the best of times and this is her wedding. As if she’s going to leave that up to anyone else to organise.’
‘I suppose you can’t really blame her for wanting everything to be perfect,’ Alice-Miranda said as they entered the cool brick building. ‘Good morning, Bonaparte,’ she sang out, poking her head over the top of Bony’s stall door. The black pony was standing in the far corner with his eyes closed. ‘Would you like some breakfast?’
At the mention of food, the pony spun around as if he were on ice skates, charging at the stall door and almost knocking his owner for six.
Alice-Miranda jumped back. ‘Hey, watch out! I haven’t got it yet. And please stop biting old ladies, you naughty boy. Mrs Howard is very upset with you. She told me what you did yesterday, almost taking her fingers off when she was just trying to give you a treat.’
Bonaparte stamped his foot and whinnied loudly, shaking his head up and down.
Alice-Miranda walked to the feed room, where Millie had already mixed up two small buckets of oats and bran. The child pulled the lid off the molasses container and drizzled a small amount on top of each.
‘Sounds like someone’s hungry,’ Millie said. She smiled and picked up Chops’s breakfast.
Alice-Miranda followed her with Bony’s. She put it on the ground and opened the stable door. Bonaparte pushed and shoved, trying to get his head into the container. ‘Stop that!’ Alice-Miranda commanded. ‘Go and stand back there or I’ll walk straight out of here and give your breakfast to Buttercup.’
Susannah’s pony was in the stall next door and whinnied when she heard her name.
‘You’d think he hadn’t been fed for a week,’ Millie said as she filled Chops’s feed bin. Her pony stood quietly in the stall on the other side, watching her like a perfect gentleman.
Bonaparte turned around and walked to the back of the stable, sticking his nose in the corner.
Alice-Miranda chuckled. ‘You are such a sook.’
Millie closed Chops’s stall door and poked her head around to see what the little black beast was up to. ‘He’s sulking.’
‘You can’t stand being told off, can you, Bony?’ Alice-Miranda said.
The pony promptly lifted his tail, trumpeted loudly and filled the air with the most noxious smell.
‘Oh, pooh!’ Millie sputtered. ‘You stink!’
Alice-Miranda chortled and gave him a playful smack on the bottom. ‘When are you ever going to learn to behave yourself?’
Bonaparte turned his head around and bared his teeth.
‘Did you see that?’ Alice-Miranda exclaimed. She finished pouring the contents of the bucket into the feed bin. ‘You can come and get it now.’
Bonaparte turned his head and eyed her warily.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Stop that nonsense. You know it doesn’t work on me, mister.’
Bonaparte whinnied and wheeled around. He rubbed his chin on the top of Alice-Miranda’s curls and then licked her cheek.
‘Oh, just what I love first thing in the morning – horse slobber.’ She kissed the tip of his nose and walked out of the stall, taking care to lock it behind her. She and Millie walked back to the feed room to return the buckets. Suddenly, they heard a loud thump.
‘Whoever’s kicking their stall had better stop that right now or Mr Charles will be very cross,’ Alice-Miranda called out.
Millie handed Alice-Miranda her bucket and headed into the main part of the stable, her eyes darting from stall to stall. As far as she could tell, all of the horses were standing quietly. ‘I don’t think it was any of them,’ she called back to Alice-Miranda, who finished tidying the feed room and walked out to join her friend.
There was another loud whump, followed by the rush of running water.
Millie glanced up. ‘It sounds like it’s coming from the flat.’
‘It’s probably one of the stable cats, chasing mice,’ Alice-Miranda said.
‘What? Then drowning them?’ Millie giggled.
Alice-Miranda spotted the stable clock and gasped. ‘Gosh, look at the time.’
‘I’m in enough trouble this week without being late for breakfast,’ Millie said as they charged outside into the sunshine.
The girls hurried down the roadway to the boarding house. As they reached the garden gate, Alice-Miranda was surprised to see Caprice behind them. She looked to be coming from the direction of the stables too. ‘Hi there!’ she called out to the girl.
Caprice jumped at the sound.
<
br /> Millie groaned. ‘I really don’t want to talk to her.’
‘Hi,’ Caprice muttered, pushing past Alice-Miranda and Millie and making quickly for the back door.
‘Where have you been?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
‘Just out for a walk if it’s any of your business,’ Caprice snapped.
‘Did you go for a swim?’ Millie said, noticing the front of the girl’s school shirt was soaking wet.
‘No, of course not.’ Caprice glanced at her uniform and gulped. She hadn’t realised it was quite so obvious. Bathing that pup had been much more of a challenge than she’d imagined.
‘What really happened with the paint bombs, Caprice?’ Alice-Miranda decided that now was as good a time as any to ask.
Millie’s stomach lurched. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said, tugging Alice-Miranda’s arm.
‘Ask her,’ Caprice said, glaring at Millie.
The red-haired girl could feel her neck and face getting hotter and hotter. ‘You know it wasn’t me,’ she retorted.
Caprice narrowed her eyes. ‘Prove it.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Alice-Miranda said.
‘I can’t help it if you’re not very smart,’ the girl spat at Millie. ‘Maybe you should have worn gloves like I –’
Alice-Miranda’s eyes widened.
‘What – wear gloves like you did?’ Millie said, eyeballing the girl. ‘Who’s the stupid one now?’
‘I didn’t say that,’ Caprice snapped. ‘Anyway, you can’t prove a thing.’ She turned around and reached out to push the door just as Mrs Howard pulled it open. The girl fell flat on her face.
‘Oh, are you all right, dear?’ the old woman fussed.
‘I’m fine,’ Caprice huffed. She scrambled to her feet and fled down the hall.
‘I think that’s about as close to a confession as we’re going to get,’ Millie muttered.
Alice-Miranda squeezed her friend’s arm. ‘Maybe her conscience will get the better of her.’
‘Don’t count on it,’ Millie said as the two girls hurried past Mrs Howard and ran to get their books.
Alice-Miranda to the Rescue Page 4
