Alice-Miranda on Vacation

by Jacqueline Harvey

  “Which way?” Cecelia asked.

  “Well, I can’t wait to see absolutely everyone, but it’s getting late, and knowing Mrs. Oliver, she’s quite likely made something extra special for our lunch, so perhaps we should go straight home and then Jacinta and I can go for a walk this afternoon.”

  “That’s a very good decision. Dolly has been fussing for days, and I know she’s dying to see you both.”

  Dolly Oliver had been the Highton-Smiths’ cook for more years than anyone could remember. Alice-Miranda adored her and Mrs. Oliver felt the same way about Alice-Miranda.

  The two girls nodded in firm agreement, and with that Cecelia turned the car left through an imposing set of iron gates into the grounds of Highton Hall.

  “Oh, that’s a funny little house!” Jacinta exclaimed, craning her neck to get a better look at the gatehouse with its myriad turrets and chimneys. “Does anyone live there?”

  “Yes, do you remember Mr. Greening?” Alice-Miranda asked. “He came to school to help Mr. Charles with the flowers.”

  “The old man with the gray beard—was that him?” Jacinta replied.

  “Yes, that’s right. He and Mrs. Greening live there.”

  “Mr. Greening was born in that house,” Cecelia added. “His father before him was the head gardener here, so they’re very much part of the family. They raised four sons who’ve all grown up and moved away. Now it’s just the two of them—and our girl here, when she’s at home. I always know where to find Alice-Miranda, especially around four o’clock.”

  “Why four o’clock?” Jacinta puzzled.

  “Well,” said Alice-Miranda. “Mrs. Greening makes the most delicious cake. It tastes like clouds and has cream frosting that fizzes on your tongue—doesn’t it, Mummy? It doesn’t have a proper name, so I call it Heaven Cake. I’ve asked Mrs. Greening loads of times to share the recipe but she says it’s a closely guarded family secret and she’ll only give it to me on my twenty-first birthday. I smuggled a piece home once and asked Mrs. Oliver if she could make one just like it, but she says there’s an ingredient she can’t work out—and you know Mrs. Oliver is the most wonderful cook in the whole world and a pretty amazing scientist too, so it must be something rare.” Alice-Miranda rubbed her tummy. “Mr. Greening has the most adorable Labrador. Her name is Betsy and she’s very keen on licking ankles for some strange reason.”

  “Well, that’s just gross.” Jacinta wrinkled her nose.

  Alice-Miranda smiled at her mother.

  Cecelia steered the car through another set of ornate gates. A broad avenue of oaks opened up and they were home.

  “Mummy, look!” Alice-Miranda exclaimed. “Everyone’s here.”

  Several smiling faces waved at them from the front porch. Alice-Miranda unclasped her seat belt and was out the door in a blink.

  “Welcome home, my darling girl,” cried Mrs. Oliver. She enveloped Alice-Miranda in her arms. As always she looked neat as a pin—her trademark brown curls set perfectly in place.

  “I’ve missed you so much.” Alice-Miranda beamed. “Mrs. Smith said to say hello and she’s looking forward to seeing you next week.”

  Dolly Oliver and Doreen Smith had forged a remarkable friendship during their time cooking together at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale. Over bubbling pots and sizzling hot plates, they barely drew a breath as they nattered together and exchanged tips. And by the end of the week, Mrs. Oliver had invited Mrs. Smith home for the holidays to work on her top-secret inventions in the laboratory that occupied the ancient cellars of Highton Hall. She’d recently perfected FDF—Freeze-Dried Foods—and was working on several new recipes to expand her range.

  “Hello, Mr. Greening.” Alice-Miranda ran to greet him. “You should see the flowers at school—they’re simply amazing! Mr. Charles can’t stop smiling and whistling, which I think drives Miss Grimm a little mad. Your garden is beautiful too,” she added, looking around at the sweep of lawn dotted with colorful flower beds, antique urns and in the center, three life-sized topiary horses, known affectionately as Bess, Beetle and Bobbin. The gardens at Highton Hall were his pride and joy.

  “Thank you, miss,” he said, smiling at Alice-Miranda. “It certainly has been quiet around here without you. Mrs. Greening is looking forward to a four o’clock visit—if that’s all right with your mother.” He winked. Alice-Miranda winked right back and touched her fingertip to the side of her nose.

  “Hello, Mrs. Shillingsworth!” Alice-Miranda lunged forward to hug the woman standing beside Mrs. Oliver. “It’s so lovely to be home. I can’t wait to tell you about school and all the wonderful things that have happened, and I want to hear everything that’s been going on here too,” she prattled.

  Mrs. Shillingsworth nodded.

  Alice-Miranda looked around. “Where’s Daddy?”

  “Sorry, darling,” her mother answered. “Your father had some urgent business in town this morning, but he hopes to be back early this evening.”

  “Well.” Alice-Miranda beamed at the trio in front of her. “I’ll just catch up with the rest of my family first.” Suddenly she clapped her hands to her mouth. “Jacinta!” She raced around to the other side of the car and grabbed Jacinta’s hand, tugging her toward the porch. “Please forgive me for being so rude. May I introduce my family? Everyone, this is my good friend Jacinta Headlington-Bear. You know Mrs. Oliver, of course.”

  Mrs. Oliver stepped forward and gave Jacinta a warm hug.

  “And then there’s Mr. Greening, who I think you met when he came to school to help Mr. Charles.”

  Jacinta smiled and nodded.

  “And this is Mrs. Shillingsworth. She runs the whole house.”

  Mrs. Shillingsworth blushed a deep shade of crimson. She shook her head at Alice-Miranda and furrowed her brows. “My dear, I have an army of helpers.”

  A tall woman with a sturdy frame, Mrs. Shillingsworth was obviously fit for the task. Her gray hair was tamed into an elegant chignon. Her practical navy skirt and crisp white shirt gave her the air of someone who simply got on with it—whatever it might be.

  “I’m so sorry; I should have introduced you straightaway. I must have left my manners back at school,” Alice-Miranda tutted to herself.

  “Don’t worry.” Jacinta grinned. “I’ve been known to leave my manners in another country.”

  “Well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I could murder a cup of tea,” said Cecelia as she unloaded the girls’ bags from the back of the car.

  Mr. Greening offered to take them up for her.

  “I’ll put the pot on,” said Mrs. Oliver, and bustled away.

  “And I think someone has been rather busy baking some extra-special treats in honor of your homecoming,” Mrs. Shillingsworth added, nodding her head toward Mrs. Oliver’s back.

  “Come on, then!” Alice-Miranda took Jacinta’s hand. “What are we waiting for?” The group marched inside.

  The scrubbed pine table groaned under the weight of Mrs. Oliver’s homecoming feast. Chicken sandwiches, miniature roast beef rolls and salmon tarts sat alongside apple teacake, cream buns, chocolate éclairs and Alice-Miranda’s favorite, devil’s food cake.

  Alice-Miranda chatted about her teachers.

  “You know, Mummy, Miss Reedy is amazing. We have the loveliest chats about books and writers. She adores Mr. Dahl as much as I do.”

  Jacinta told them about the headmistress, Miss Grimm, and all the changes at the school over the past term.

  “And just wait until you see Mrs. Smith,” Alice-Miranda went on. “She looks wonderful, and her dinners have been simply scrumptious.”

  Mrs. Shillingsworth frowned. “Well, in my day, school was different altogether. There were certainly no friendly chats with teachers. Many’s a day I spent with a roll of newspaper in my knickers to avoid the sting of the paddle, and as for the food, my goodness, I think you lot must be spoiled silly. I clearly remember buckets of thick brown porridge and sloppy mash floating in a sea of watery vegetables. I t
hink we only had meat once a year for Christmas.”

  Alice-Miranda giggled. “I hope they didn’t give you porridge and mash together. That would be truly disgusting.”

  “Oh, Shilly, you do paint a terrible picture,” Cecelia laughed. “Fortunately things have come rather a long way in the past few years.”

  “Few years.” Mrs. Oliver snorted. “I think there’s more than a few years since our Shilly here was at school.”

  “Well, it didn’t do me any harm,” Shilly said with a scowl. “Toughening up, that’s what children these days need. Soft, I say, the lot of them.”

  Jacinta shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She wasn’t at all sure about Mrs. Shillingsworth. Her eyebrows had a terrible habit of knitting together even when she seemed to be smiling.

  But Alice-Miranda simply grinned at the housekeeper. “That was the best lunch ever.” She folded her napkin in front of her, skipped around to Mrs. Oliver and wrapped her arms around her neck.

  “Steady there, young lady.” Mrs. Oliver’s teacup wobbled and she placed it with a sharp chink back onto the saucer. “Now, to what do I owe such grand affection?”

  “Just because,” Alice-Miranda said and pecked Mrs. Oliver’s powdered cheek.

  “Darling, why don’t you take Jacinta upstairs,” her mother suggested. She turned to Jacinta. “You can decide if you’d like to share Alice-Miranda’s bedroom or have a room of your own.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hight—I mean, Cecelia,” said Jacinta. She and Alice-Miranda excused themselves, and Alice-Miranda led the way up the kitchen staircase.

  Jacinta was wide-eyed as she took in her new surroundings. “It’s an enormous house,” she said, bounding after her guide. “Have you always lived here?”

  “Well, it’s been in Mummy’s family forever—I think about two hundred years. So I’ve always lived here, and Mummy, Granny and Pa before that and I suppose quite a few of the great grannies and pas as well,” Alice-Miranda replied.

  A grand Georgian mansion set over four levels, including a labyrinth of cellars, Highton Hall sat atop a rise in the middle of a vast six-thousand-hectare estate. It was widely regarded as one of the most beautiful homes in the country. It boasted an east and a west library, a long gallery and a ballroom among its fifty-odd rooms; guests often became lost in its grandeur.

  “Do you know, I’m sure there are rooms I’ve never even been into?” Alice-Miranda continued. “Last year I stumbled on a whole suite I can’t remember seeing before. Sometimes I think this house breeds new rooms when no one is looking.”

  “It’s a bit like school, really, although with much better curtains,” said Jacinta. “There are places I’ve only just discovered there too. Did you know that there’s a secret passage off the science room?”

  “Really?” Alice-Miranda gasped. “Where does it go?”

  “I don’t know,” Jacinta replied. “Ashima told me about it. She said she overheard Alethea bragging that she had found it and no one was allowed to go there except if she said so.”

  Alethea Goldsworthy had been Head Prefect at Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale for the first couple of weeks of term—until to her horror of horrors Miss Grimm discovered that she was an awful bully, a cheat and a liar. She had left the school in rather a rush, after she was caught cheating in a sailing race against Alice-Miranda.

  “Well, Alethea’s not there anymore, so next term we’ll have to go exploring.” Alice-Miranda’s brown eyes twinkled.

  The girls climbed the long flight of stairs and arrived in a very grand hallway at least five meters wide. A plush Chinese carpet in hues of pink, green and blue ran its full length with various chairs and side tables lining the passage. Huge portraits in heavily gilded frames adorned the pale-mint-papered walls.

  “Are those your relatives?” Jacinta asked, pointing toward the paintings. She could have sworn she saw one of the figures turn its head as she passed.

  “Yes, but don’t worry—we haven’t had any problems with them lately,” Alice-Miranda replied.

  Jacinta gulped. She studied one particularly large picture of a young woman wearing a soft buttercup-colored gown and a diamond tiara. She looked vaguely familiar.

  “My room’s this way,” said Alice-Miranda. She grabbed Jacinta’s hand and led her to the very end of the corridor. She turned the ancient ceramic handle and pushed open the oak door to reveal one of the prettiest rooms Jacinta had ever seen. In the middle stood a large four-poster bed dressed in the most delicate of pale pink floral bedclothes. In one corner was an enormous doll’s house complete with felt grass lawn, and in another was a gleaming white rocking horse. A large Persian carpet took up most of the room, and luxurious cream curtains tumbled to the floor, tied back with fist-sized silver tassels. A pair of cedar armoires stood guard either side of a black marble fireplace in the middle of one wall. Directly opposite, two doors led to who knew where.

  Jacinta inspected the doll’s house. “This is lovely,” she sighed, being careful not to touch anything.

  “Can you see what it is?” Alice-Miranda asked.

  “It’s very big. And so perfect. Look at the detail on those windows.” Jacinta leaned down to look inside. “There’s a doll’s house in there!” she exclaimed, peering into one of the front windows on the second floor. She shielded her eyes to get a better look. “And a rocking horse, just like yours.” She stood back. “It’s your house!” Jacinta beamed.

  “Mr. Greening’s father made it for Mummy when she was a little girl. I think it’s the most perfect doll’s house ever.” Alice-Miranda lifted part of the roof to reveal an attic room. “Mummy says it took him two years to build it. He used an old set of plans and Granny helped him with all the details. It’s exactly the same as the Hall, just in miniature. In fact, I suppose if I study the doll’s house I might find some more of those mysterious rooms I’ve not seen before,” she added as an afterthought.

  “Are you allowed to play with it?” Jacinta stepped back as Alice-Miranda pulled a trunk from the attic.

  “Of course,” she said. “Mummy and Aunt Charlotte played with it all the time when they were little, and it’s always been here.”

  Jacinta frowned. “Well, that’s sensible.”

  “What do you mean?” Alice-Miranda asked.

  “I have a doll’s house too, but I’m not allowed to touch it because it once belonged to a princess and Mummy says it won’t be valuable anymore if I play with it. I told her that wasn’t fair but she decided it would be best if I just looked at it—so now it’s locked away inside a glass case.” Jacinta rolled her eyes.

  “But that’s silly,” said Alice-Miranda with a shake of her head. “Of course you should play with it. I’ll talk to your mother. Maybe she just doesn’t understand about doll’s houses.” Alice-Miranda picked up a doll dressed in a navy skirt and white shirt. She looked a bit like Mrs. Shillingsworth.

  “I don’t know,” Jacinta replied. “But I’m sure you won’t change her mind.”

  “Well, you can play with this house all day long if you’d like,” Alice-Miranda said decisively, and handed Jacinta the doll.

  After a tour of the bedrooms on the second floor, Jacinta decided that she would like to sleep in the room beside Alice-Miranda’s, which shared an adjoining bathroom.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” said Jacinta. She flopped open the lid of her suitcase. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to be back in your own room, and honestly, I’m quite fine on my own too. After school, where there’s always someone in the same room, it’s a bit of a novelty, really.”

  “Of course I don’t mind at all.” Alice-Miranda began unpacking Jacinta’s clothes into the tallboy opposite the bed.

  The room was generously proportioned and had a large carpeted area where Jacinta thought she might do some stretching and floor work. She was aiming to go to the junior world championships and couldn’t afford to stop training, even though it was holidays.

  “Besides,” said Alice-Miranda, “this room has lots of
space and I thought you might want to do some stretching. It might be a bit small for tumbling, but the Great Hall downstairs would be perfect for that.”

  “Can you read minds?” Jacinta asked.

  Alice-Miranda grinned.

  After they finished unpacking, Alice-Miranda suggested they go and explore the estate.

  “I’ve got loads of people I want you to meet—and we do have that special invitation from Mrs. Greening at four o’clock. And I’ve been thinking about that boy in the laneway,” Alice-Miranda pondered out loud. “I wonder who he is.”

  “Well, whoever he is, someone needs to teach him some manners,” Jacinta replied.

  “I think I’ll go and put on my old jeans in case we find some good trees to climb. You should get changed too.” Alice-Miranda walked to the bathroom door and headed through into her own room.

  Five minutes later the girls met in the hallway. Jacinta had changed from her school dress into navy pants and a short-sleeved striped navy top. Alice-Miranda wore a faded pair of denim jeans with a pink shirt. Both girls had trainers on their feet.

  “Now I feel like I’m home,” said Alice-Miranda, brushing minuscule creases from her shirt. “Come on.”

  She ran down the hallway to the central staircase, where she promptly leapt onto the banister rail. Jacinta followed at her heels.

  “Alice-Miranda,” Jacinta whispered urgently. “Mrs. Shillingsworth is coming.”

  “Good, she can time me.”

  “Alice-Miranda,” Mrs. Shillingsworth barked. “You wait right there, young lady.”

  The girls turned their heads in unison to catch sight of Mrs. Shillingsworth, a stack of fresh towels in her arms, charging toward them.

  “Get down,” Jacinta urged.

  “It’s okay. Really it is,” Alice-Miranda assured her friend.

  Mrs. Shillingsworth set her fluffy tower down on a Louis chair opposite the top of the staircase. She fished around in her skirt pocket and retrieved what looked to be a rather large stopwatch.