Alice-Miranda Holds the Key 15

by Jacqueline Harvey

  Sloane spotted the pair and nudged Jacinta, who had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Some of the adults were sipping coffee and thumbing through magazines, but sat to attention as soon as they caught sight of Millie and the doctor.

  Ophelia Grimm hurried over to them. ‘How is she?’

  Millie looked at the headmistress and promptly burst into tears.

  ‘Good heavens,’ the woman gasped, fearing the worst. ‘Has something happened?’

  ‘Alice-Miranda’s awake and she’s going to be fine,’ Millie sobbed, unable to stop the flood.

  ‘Yes!’ Sloane exclaimed, grabbing hold of Jacinta.

  Dolly embraced Shilly and then Miss Reedy. Charlie clenched his fists together and dropped his head as if he were praying. There was a cheer from Mr Parker and Stan Frost, while Myrtle Parker sobbed and Evelyn Pepper sighed with relief.

  ‘Oh, Millie, dear girl.’ Miss Grimm hugged the child tightly. ‘You’ve had an awful shock and been so brave.’

  ‘What that child needs is a honey sandwich and a cup of tea,’ Dolly said. Glad to be of some use, she stood up and bustled out of the room in search of a kitchenette.

  Millie quickly pulled herself together. Having a good cry for the first time since the accident had made her feel almost instantly better.

  ‘Will Alice-Miranda really be okay?’ Charlie asked. He was still in his work clothes, having accompanied Millie and Alice-Miranda in the ambulance to the hospital.

  Dr Miller put her hands into her white coat pockets. ‘All signs are pointing to a full recovery, but Alice-Miranda needs to sleep. She’s had a nasty bump on the head and a concussion as well as the sprained ankle. We’ll keep her under observation for the next few days and then she’ll need to go home and take it easy for a while before she’s completely mobile again. I’m afraid she won’t be going back to school until next term.’

  Millie’s heart sank. She hated the thought of being at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale without her best friend, but at least Alice-Miranda was going be fine. It was only a week, really. Maybe she could stay with her grandpa for a few days in the holidays so she could visit Alice-Miranda at Highton Hall.

  ‘When can we see her?’ Jacinta asked.

  ‘I think it would be best if you all went home and got some rest yourselves,’ the doctor instructed. ‘You can come back tomorrow afternoon – but, please, one or two at a time. We don’t want to wear the girl out.’

  ‘Thank you, Dr Miller,’ Ophelia Grimm said. ‘I’m glad to be returning to school with some happy news. I know everyone has been worried sick.’

  The doctor excused herself and the group stood up. There were lots of hugs and relieved smiles and even a few more tears. Mrs Oliver reappeared with Millie’s sandwich and tea, and the girl took just a few minutes to wolf it down. She hadn’t realised how ravenous she was until the food was directly in front of her.

  ‘Now, I think it’s time we make a move or none of us will be able to wake up for school tomorrow,’ the headmistress said to the girls.

  Millie excused herself to say goodbye to Alice-Miranda. She poked her head inside the door and saw that her friend had already fallen back to sleep. ‘We’re heading off,’ she whispered, tiptoeing into the room.

  ‘Darling girl, thank you so much for looking after her,’ Cecelia said, sweeping Millie into her arms.

  Hugh hugged Millie too. ‘Thank you – we’re both very proud of what you did.’

  ‘She’s my best friend,’ Millie said, a deep crimson blush darkening her cheeks. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do without her.’

  Hugh Kennington-Jones’s phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and stared at the screen. ‘Sorry, I have to take this,’ he said, and stepped into the corridor.

  With everything that had happened that day, Millie had almost forgotten about the Kennington’s crisis. ‘Have you had any breakthroughs?’ she asked tentatively, wondering if she should even bring it up.

  Cecelia shook her head. ‘No, but perhaps this will be good news,’ she said with a tight smile on her lips. ‘Although I’m not sure who could be calling at this hour.’ It was approaching ten o’clock in the evening.

  From the colour of Hugh’s face when he returned, it didn’t look like the call had been positive.

  ‘What is it?’ Cecelia asked.

  ‘Another forty-six people have fallen ill,’ Hugh said, running a hand through his hair.

  Cecelia’s hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh, how awful. Have they at least discovered the cause of all this?’

  He shook his head. ‘The only thing the victims have in common is that they’ve bought and consumed goods from Kennington’s in the past week. There are certain products that many more customers have purchased, such as milk and bread, but so far nothing has shown up in the tests.’

  Millie noticed Miss Grimm hovering by the open door. She hated having to leave Hugh and Cecelia right at this moment. ‘I have to go,’ she whispered, and leaned in to give Alice-Miranda a kiss on the cheek before hugging Cecelia and Hugh again. ‘You know everything will work out,’ she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

  Cecelia nodded, mustering a brave smile. ‘Of course it will. We’ve got the best minds in the country working on it.’

  Millie gave them a wave and hurried out the door.

  Cecelia turned to her husband and hugged him fiercely. ‘Hugh, what are we going to do?’

  ‘I’ll make some calls,’ he said with a nod. He gazed at Alice-Miranda lying asleep on the bed. ‘This can’t go on a minute longer.’

  The glow of a lamp illuminated the desk at the nurse’s station located at the end of the eerily quiet ward.

  A woman entered Alice-Miranda’s room and picked up the chart hanging at the foot of the bed. She scanned the page.

  ‘Oh.’ She smirked when she caught sight of the name. ‘What an unlucky week for your lot.’

  The woman lingered a while, muttering to herself, when the door suddenly opened and Cecelia Highton-Smith walked through.

  ‘Hello doctor,’ Cecelia said, a look of concern creeping onto her face. ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, fine,’ the woman replied and quickly walked back out into the corridor, a bubble of anger rising in her throat. She stormed along the hallway and was almost barrelled over by a nurse pushing a trolley out of another room.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Dr Treloar. Are you all right?’ the young man asked.

  ‘Perfect,’ she replied through gritted teeth. ‘Absolutely perfect.’

  ‘Good,’ the nurse said. ‘Another three children have just been admitted with symptoms that suggest food poisoning. Would you be able to take a look at them?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Adrienne rubbed her neck. ‘Show me where they are and then get me a list of everything they’ve eaten in the past forty-eight hours.’

  ‘Certainly, doctor.’

  ‘We’re going to miss you,’ the young nurse said as she fluffed the pillows behind Alice-Miranda’s head. She stepped back and surveyed the room. ‘I don’t ever remember a patient getting as many flowers as you. I hope your mother has a very large car.’

  Word of Alice-Miranda’s accident had swiftly spread to family and friends and, within hours of the girl’s admittance to Room 2B of Chattering Children’s Hospital, the ward had taken on the appearance of an upmarket flower shop. There were roses, peonies, daffodils, lilies and chrysanthemums, among numerous others. There was even the very exotic but extremely unpleasant Stapelia Gigantea, more commonly known as the African starfish. It had been a gift from Dudley Wainscott, who was one of the world’s leading botanists and an old friend of Alice-Miranda’s father from school. Knowing him, he would have thought Alice-Miranda would find the flower fascinating, but its putrid smell of rotting flesh saw Matron promptly relegate it to the garbage after they took a few photographs for proof of receipt.

  Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘I think my friends have gone slightly overboard, but it’s touching to know that everyone has bee
n thinking of me. I’m sure that’s helped me make such a speedy recovery.’

  The last delivery to arrive had been sent from Lucinda Finkelstein and her family in New York. It was the most spectacular spray of purple orchids accompanied by a lovely card. Alice-Miranda had made sure to take down the names of every friend who had sent her flowers so she could write personalised thank-you letters as soon as she returned home to Highton Hall.

  ‘I think these peonies are the most stunning I’ve ever seen,’ the nurse said as she inhaled the scent of the pink blooms that were sitting on the bedside table.

  ‘Please take them,’ Alice-Miranda said, pushing them into her arms. ‘Mummy can’t possibly fit all these flowers in her car, so I’ll just keep a few and everyone else can have the rest.’

  The woman’s face lit up. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ the child replied with a decisive nod, as her mother breezed into the room.

  ‘Good morning darling, how are you feeling?’ Cecelia asked.

  ‘Much better, Mummy, although my bruises are getting more colourful.’ The child tilted her face upwards. Her left eye and the patch around her mouth were now both murky shades of yellow and green with some purple highlights too.

  ‘I wonder what the other fellow looks like,’ Mrs Shillingsworth remarked from behind Cecelia. She walked over to give Alice-Miranda a hug.

  ‘Oh, he’s black and blue,’ Alice-Miranda joked, as if she’d acquired the marks in a fist fight.

  Dr Miller knocked and stepped into the room, negotiating her way through the dozens of bouquets that were covering every shelf and half the floor.

  ‘Hello Dr Miller, please help yourself to some flowers. There’s no way we can take them all with us,’ the child said. She looked expectantly at the woman. ‘I am going home, aren’t I?’

  ‘Let me give you one final check and we’ll get the last of the paperwork sorted,’ the doctor said. ‘How’s your headache?’

  ‘Still there,’ Alice-Miranda admitted begrudgingly, ‘but it feels more like a dull ache now. It’s hardly bothering me – well, not compared to the feeling that someone was practising tennis inside my skull.’

  The doctor smiled. ‘That’s a very good description, Alice-Miranda. I’ll have to remember that one in future. And what about your ankle?’

  ‘It’s a touch sore but not too bad. The stitches inside my mouth feel a bit scratchy, but won’t they dissolve soon?’

  Dr Miller nodded. She took Alice-Miranda’s blood pressure and listened to her chest, then checked her eyes with her tiny torch before pulling the sheets back and examining her ankle. ‘On behalf of all of us here at the children’s hospital, I’m a little sad to say that you’re right to go.’

  Cecelia dabbed at the moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes.

  ‘Now, Mummy, we’ve talked about this,’ Alice-Miranda said sternly. ‘There is absolutely no need to cry – not when it’s good news. I’m coming home sooner than expected. Look at it as having me all to yourself for a couple of extra days. Although I’m afraid I’m going to be more of a bother than a help.’

  ‘I’m sorry for being so emotional,’ Cecelia said, sniffling into her tissue. ‘It’s just that this is the best news we’ve had all week.’

  ‘We’ve been to collect your things from school this morning,’ Shilly said. ‘And Millie’s very keen to chat on the phone once you’re home.’ She picked up Alice-Miranda’s suitcase in one hand and a pot plant in the other. ‘Ma’am, why don’t we take some of the flowers out to the car while we wait for the paperwork?’

  ‘Just the orchids and those beautiful violets from school and that gorgeous arrangement from Granny and the vase full of tulips from Aunty Gee,’ Alice-Miranda instructed. ‘I’m going to give the rest of the flowers to the staff. They’ve looked after me so well, they all deserve something lovely in return.’

  News quickly travelled that Chattering’s favourite patient was being released. Matron Evans was the first to drop by, followed by a procession of other staff members and patients. To their great delight and surprise, every single one of them left with flowers. But there was one bouquet, of the most divine irises and roses, that was reserved for a very special someone.

  ‘Hello, hello, my dear, top of the morning to you,’ Mrs Tigwell trilled, wheeling her trolley into Room 2B.

  Alice-Miranda beamed at the tea lady. ‘Good morning, Mrs Tigwell. You won’t believe what wonderful news I have. It seems I’m going home.’

  The woman’s smile faltered. ‘I’m glad you’re on the mend, lovely one, but I’ll miss seeing your sunny face each day. I don’t remember having such a happy patient for a long time.’

  ‘I’ve saved these for you,’ Alice-Miranda said, pointing to the last stand of flowers.

  Mrs Tigwell shook her head and blushed. ‘I couldn’t possibly take them.’

  ‘I insist,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘And Mummy can tell you that once I’ve made up my mind, there’s not much point in trying to convince me otherwise. You’ve been so kind and I have more than enough.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure, then I won’t say no. They’re far too beautiful to leave behind and they’d look superb in the middle of my kitchen table.’ The woman smiled. ‘Would you like a hot chocolate before you go?’

  ‘Oh, Mrs Tigwell, you know I couldn’t resist,’ Alice-Miranda said, her eyes sparkling.

  The woman swiftly produced a pot from the bottom tray of her trolley, which, unbeknown to Alice-Miranda, she’d been making every day just for her.

  ‘I don’t know why I wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital,’ Caprice griped as the girls neared the assembly hall. ‘I mean, she’s my friend as well. It’s not fair that only you two and Jacinta got to go every day, and I heard Sep and Lucas were there yesterday.’

  ‘You could send her a card,’ Sloane suggested. ‘She wasn’t in hospital having a picnic, you know. Alice-Miranda was quite badly injured in the fall.’

  Millie hadn’t said a word. She didn’t feel like getting into a fight with Caprice right now. Miss Grimm had been very particular about not overloading Alice-Miranda for a reason and, as it was, the girls were only permitted to stay a short time on each occasion.

  Josiah Plumpton scurried along behind the trio, urging them to hurry up. He could hear Mr Trout playing the school song, which generally meant the headmistress was ready and waiting for the processional to start. The girls inched past the teachers, who were assembled at the door, and quickly slid into their seats as Mr Trout’s chorus reached its crescendo. On stage, Miss Reedy asked the assembly to stand and Miss Grimm and the other staff members marched down the aisle, their academic gowns flowing. Mr Plumpton was the only teacher who insisted on wearing his mortar board these days, despite Miss Grimm having long ago decreed them as an optional extra as she hated the way hers messed up her hair.

  ‘Is Miss Grimm all right?’ Sloane whispered, nudging Millie.

  The woman looked wobbly at best. She reached the stairs and managed to make it onto the stage, but by then her face had taken on a rather peaky shade of green.

  ‘I think she’s going to be sick,’ Caprice said, a little louder than she’d intended. All eyes immediately focused on the headmistress.

  Ophelia Grimm felt hot and cold and clammy at the same time. Her stomach was roiling and she soon realised that, if she didn’t get out of there within seconds, this assembly could possibly turn into the worst moment of her life.

  ‘Livinia, please take over,’ she said, and desperately turned to look for something to catch what was coming. She snatched the closest thing next to her, which just so happened to be Mr Plumpton’s mortar board, before fleeing as fast as she could off the side of the stage and into the wings. The assembly hall fell deathly silent until all of a sudden the sound of the headmistress losing her lunch echoed through the building.

  ‘Gross!’ Caprice groaned, scrunching up her face. ‘Miss Grimm threw up.’

  ‘In Mr Plumpton’s hat, I’d sa
y,’ Sloane added.

  The man’s face distorted and he shuddered at the thought.

  A wave of sympathetic retching filled the hall. Benitha Wall raced after the headmistress as Livinia Reedy stood speechless for a moment, before she took a deep breath and pulled herself together. ‘Girls, stop that nonsense at once. You’re all fine. Miss Grimm, though, is obviously unwell. We will continue with our assembly and you will not make another sound.’

  ‘But, Miss Reedy, I don’t feel so good either,’ a voice squeaked from the front row. It was little Mimi Theopolis.

  ‘Anna, take Mimi outside for some air,’ the woman directed. ‘And if you need to go back to the boarding house and lie down, ask Mrs Derby to phone Mrs Howard to make sure she’s there.’

  Livinia looked out at the girls and noticed a general malaise. Surely they weren’t going to be hit with a dreadful epidemic just before the end of the term. That was the last thing they needed. Livinia read some notices and handed out the weekly awards before giving an update on Alice-Miranda’s progress.

  ‘Girls, I know that many of you have been extremely worried about Alice-Miranda. I am pleased to report that she should be leaving hospital right about now. She’s going home for the remainder of the term and her mother has promised to let us know how she is. Suffice to say, she’s a lucky girl as it was an especially nasty fall. Which leads me to the next announcement. Will Millie please make her way to the stage?’

  Millie could feel her freckles firing up as she stood uncertainly. She walked to the stairs and took her place beside the teacher.

  Livinia Reedy held a large embossed certificate in the air. ‘On behalf of the headmistress and all the staff here at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale Academy for Proper Young Ladies, I am so very proud to present Millicent Jane McLoughlin-McTavish-McNoughton-McGill with the Eleanor and Algernon Bateman Memorial Award for her calm and sensible actions in the face of great shock and calamity.’