Alice-Miranda In New York 5 (3 page)

A
lice-Miranda sat in the back of the limousine as it snaked its way from Teterboro Airport to the city.

‘Oh, Daddy, we can't be far now!' she exclaimed as the car approached the signpost for the Lincoln Tunnel.

‘No, not far, but I suspect the traffic in the city could slow us down a little,' her father replied.

‘But it's not bad at all,' said Alice-Miranda as the car sped through the tunnel and emerged onto West
38th Street and straight into a bank-up of cars a mile long.

‘Oh, I think I spoke too soon.' Alice-Miranda stared wide-eyed out of the window at the lights of Manhattan. On the flight she and her parents had made lots of plans about the places they would visit and sights they wanted to see. She'd made Mrs Oliver promise to come with them as often as she could, too.

‘Look at all those yellow taxis, Mummy,' Alice-Miranda observed as their car turned into Sixth Avenue, heading towards Central Park. As far as the eye could see, yellow cabs clogged the street, peppered with black town cars. ‘Does anyone drive their own car in New York?' Alice-Miranda was trying to spot other vehicles among the bumblebee-coloured swarm.

‘No, most New Yorkers don't bother with a car. There's hardly any parking and what there is costs a king's ransom,' her father replied.

A group of pedicabs darted by, weaving their way in and out of the traffic, their young drivers shouting offers of cheap rides to the pedestrians on the footpaths.

‘That looks like fun. Are you game, Mrs Oliver?'
Alice-Miranda pointed at the bicycles with their pedestrian carts behind.

‘Count me out, my dear,' Dolly replied, shaking her head. ‘I prefer my arms and legs attached.'

‘Excuse me, Mr O'Leary, do you know what the hold-up is?' Alice-Miranda asked the uniformed driver.

The kindly man glanced at Alice-Miranda in the rear-vision mirror and said in his lovely Irish lilt, ‘Oh lass, this is just the regular Saturday night. This place never stops, you know. Three o'clock in the morning and there are still thousands on the streets.'

‘It's electric!' Alice-Miranda bubbled. ‘There's something about this city. I can't wait to start school on Monday.'

‘I know Jilly is looking forward to it too,' Cecelia replied.

For the next month or so, Alice-Miranda would be attending Mrs Kimmel's School for Girls, on East 75th Street. The headmistress just happened to be an old friend of Cecelia's from her own school days. With a diplomat father, Jilly Hobbs grew up attending schools in several different countries before returning to the United States to go to college. Jilly had made a career teaching girls in New York
City and was now headmistress of the prestigious Mrs Kimmel's.

The car continued up Sixth Avenue and into Central Park.

‘Oh, Mummy, look at the carriages. Aren't the horses beautiful? Can we ride in one? Please?' Alice-Miranda begged.

‘Don't you remember? We did that last time we were here,' her mother replied.

‘Yes, but that was when I was only four,' Alice-Miranda reminded her. ‘And now I'm almost eight.'

‘Of course,' her mother smiled. ‘It doesn't seem that long since we last came together but, yes, you're right.'

The car wound its way through Central Park, exiting at the 65th Street Transverse and crossing Fifth Avenue. Veiled in scaffolding, Highton's department store took up the entire block between East 64th and East 65th, with its frontage on Fifth Avenue. A grand set of gates at the rear of the building opened automatically. Hidden behind the gothic facade, a circular driveway led through a formal garden and spiralled downwards. Another set of elaborate metal gates, adorned with cherubs and vines and other creatures among the ironwork, slid open to reveal
a private parking garage and equally decorative subterranean entrance to the building.

‘Well, here we are.' Cecelia Highton-Smith slid forward and gathered her handbag and jacket. Seamus O'Leary held open the door as the group alighted from the vehicle.

‘Good evening all.' An impeccably dressed man emerged from the entrance. He had a shock of wavy white hair and wore a red polka dot bow tie.

‘Mr Gruber!' Alice-Miranda raced towards the gentleman and immediately launched herself at his middle.

He lifted her up in one swift action and Alice-Miranda gave him a smacking great kiss on the cheek.

‘Oh, my dear girl, you do make an old man happy.' Gilbert Gruber put Alice-Miranda back down. ‘I think you are just the tonic I've needed.'

‘I'm so excited to be here, Mr Gruber. I'm starting school on Monday and then Mummy and Daddy are going to take me all over the city after school and we're going to ride the subway and pedicabs and have the best time ever and I think Mrs Oliver might even let me eat hot dogs from the street stalls and giant pretzels and we're going to the Museum of Natural
History and the Met and I don't remember where else but I'm not going to waste a minute.'

‘Whew! I'm tired just hearing it,' Gilbert grinned.

Cecelia Highton-Smith greeted the old man with a kiss on each cheek. He embraced Mrs Oliver like a long-lost friend and firmly shook Hugh's hand.

‘How are you, Gil?' Hugh Kennington-Jones slapped the old man on the back.

‘Well, I have to be honest, Hugh, I think this renovation has almost done me in. I suspect that daughter of yours will give me just the boost I need, although I might require a vacation once you've gone.'

The group laughed.

‘I imagine you'd like to head straight upstairs?' Mr Gruber offered.

‘Actually, Gilbert, I wondered if you might give Hugh and me a quick tour. I'm dying to see what you've done with the ground floor since I was last here,' Cecelia Highton-Smith suggested. ‘Dolly, why don't you take Alice-Miranda upstairs and get her settled.'

‘May I come with you instead, Mummy?' Alice-Miranda asked.

Dolly Oliver nodded at Cecelia. ‘I'll go up and put the kettle on.'

‘All right, we won't be long,' Cecelia smiled.

‘Are you sure you don't want to wait until Monday?' Gilbert asked Cecelia.

‘No, of course not,' she shook her head. ‘It can't be that bad.'

The old man frowned. He led the family through a long hallway and up a short flight of steps. Gilbert pushed open a large door and spread out in front of them was a muddle of counters, boxes, signage and general disarray. Lights not yet attached to the ceiling dangled from long cables and there seemed to be a whole wall of plasterboard missing.

Down among the muddle, the high-pitched whine of a drill started up.

‘Goodness, someone's working late,' Alice-Miranda said.

A head popped up from beside a counter.

‘Haven't you got a home to go to George?' Gilbert joked with the young man.

The man seemed startled. ‘Oh, hello Mr Gruber. I . . . I just thought I'd get a couple of things done before heading off,' he called back.

‘George, you know Cecelia, of course,' Gilbert began, ‘and this is her husband Hugh and daughter Alice-Miranda.'

‘Hello.' The fellow waved. Alice-Miranda and her father waved back.

‘George is Tony's site foreman,' Gilbert explained. ‘I think that man works harder than anyone.'

George held his drill aloft. ‘If you don't mind.'

‘Of course not. Don't let us hold you up,' Gilbert replied. He turned to Cecelia and noticed that her face had drained of colour. ‘It's a work in progress, Cee,' he said gently.

She gave a clenched smile.

‘Is that what you call it, Gil? I'd say it's a dirty great mess,' Hugh laughed.

‘I'm sure it will come together,' Alice-Miranda said and slipped her hand into her mother's.

‘I hope so,' Cecelia whispered.

‘Don't worry, dear. You know we'll get there,' Gilbert reassured her.

‘Let's go upstairs, Mummy. You look like you could do with a cup of tea.'

The four of them walked back through the large door and into the private corridor towards the elevator.

‘Tony assures me that George will have all trades on deck first thing Monday, and I guarantee you won't know the place by the afternoon,' Gilbert said.

‘I'm not concerned,' Cecelia protested. ‘Really, I'm not.'

‘Then what are those?' Hugh reached out and touched his wife's forehead. ‘They look like worry lines to me.'

‘Don't be silly.' Cecelia smiled and the lines disappeared. ‘Goodnight Gilbert,' she said and kissed the old man.

‘Goodnight all,' he replied.

Alice-Miranda reached out and pressed the elevator button. There was only one option for the carriage they stood in front of: P for penthouse.

A
lice-Miranda's eyelids fluttered open.

‘Good morning, sleepyhead, we thought you were going to snooze the day away.' Hugh KenningtonJones drew back the curtains and sunlight flooded the room.

The Highton-Smith-Kennington-Joneses' penthouse covered the two top floors of their iconic department store. Built almost one hundred years ago, the building was hailed as a stunning example of gothic architecture along what was then called Millionaires' Mile. The glorious apartment, which
had been part of the original design of the building, boasted six bedrooms and as many bathrooms, a formal sitting room, dining room, chef's kitchen and a media room complete with home theatre. There was an enormous library and study too. On the rooftop a small garden gave a wonderful view of Central Park.

Alice-Miranda's bedroom was decorated with the palest of lemon and pink striped wallpaper. Floral curtains adorned the two double-height windows and a silk Chinese rug covered the bare polished boards. Two single beds jutted out from the long wall opposite the door and a bookcase packed full of Alice-Miranda's favourite volumes stretched half the length of the room. A cedar armoire and antique chest of drawers contained a lovely set of clothes her mother had chosen especially from Highton's on Fifth's new collection. There was an ensuite off the end of the room with a deep roll-top bath and a shower. The apartment had undergone a major renovation only a couple of years before and was headquarters for Cecelia and Charlotte or their mother Valentina whenever they were in town.

‘Ahhh.' Alice-Miranda yawned and stretched her
arms above her head. ‘Good morning, Daddy.'

Her father sat down on the side of her bed and stroked his daughter's hair. ‘So, what would you like to do today?' he asked. ‘What about a tour of the New York City Sanitation Depot?'

‘I don't remember
that
being on my list,' Alice-Miranda frowned. ‘I thought we were going to the park.'

‘Of course we are – I was just teasing,' her father smiled.

‘Do you have to work?'

‘No, darling. Today Mummy and I are all yours,' Hugh smiled.

Alice-Miranda leaned forward and hugged her father.

‘Well, come along. Why don't you hop out of bed and have a quick shower to help you wake up. Dolly will fix you some breakfast and then we can get moving.'

After a delicious stack of fluffy pancakes drowned in maple syrup, Alice-Miranda and her parents headed across the road to Central Park. First stop was the Central Park Zoo, a small but perfectly formed animal kingdom in the heart of one of the largest parks in one of the biggest cities in the
world.

‘See here, it says that there are over 1400 animals in the zoo from 130 species. Look, Daddy!' Alice-Miranda exclaimed. ‘There's a polar bear.' Alice-Miranda ran towards the enclosure, scanning for its inhabitant. ‘His name is Gus and it says here that he loves to show off for visitors.'

Just as Alice-Miranda spoke, the enormous snowy bear sauntered into the pool. The girl giggled with delight. The polar bear swam right to the far end of the pool, turned and locked eyes with Alice-Miranda through the glass.

‘Isn't he gorgeous?' Alice-Miranda remarked.

‘Yes, and he'd happily eat you for lunch,' her father smiled.

‘I don't think he'd mean to, though.' Alice-Miranda stretched her hand across the glass. ‘It's just what bears do, isn't it?' The giant white beast swam towards her, then reached up and placed its hairy paw on the other side of the barrier.

A group of visitors milling around were watching the encounter wide-eyed.

‘Goodness, look at that,' a portly man said, grinning at the huge bear and the tiny girl. Cameras snapped away, capturing the tender moment.

‘I think that daughter of yours must have a way
with animals,' said a man standing beside Cecelia Highton-Smith.

‘I think you might be right. She seems to have a way with most everything and everyone else,' her mother smiled.

In his best bear-like voice, Hugh Kennington-Jones teased, ‘Hmm, you look like a very tasty little girl. In fact, I think I could eat you up right . . . now!' He grabbed Alice-Miranda from behind. She shot into the air with a squeal.

‘Daddy, stop!' Alice-Miranda giggled as Hugh twirled his little daughter up onto his shoulders, where she dangled over his back.

‘Come on, you two,' Cecelia admonished with a smile. ‘There's a lot more to see so we'd better get a move on.'

‘Goodbye Gus,' Alice-Miranda called and waved.

It was hard to believe that a couple of hours had flown past by the time the family left the zoo and headed out into the park.

‘Well, I don't know about you ladies but I'm feeling rather peckish,' her father advised. ‘What about lunch at the Boathouse?'

‘Daddy, couldn't we just have a hot dog from
that man over there?' Alice-Miranda squeezed her father's hand and pointed at a vendor with his mobile cooking station. ‘If we go to the restaurant it will take much longer and there are so many more things to see.'

Alice-Miranda's parents exchanged glances.

‘I'm game if you are,' Cecelia smiled.

‘All right, hot dogs it is,' Hugh replied.

The family purchased their lunch and went to sit on a bench in the middle of a patch of green lawn. The smell of food brought some other critters out and soon two squirrels were playing hide-and-seek up and down and around a tree beside them.

‘They're so cute,' Alice-Miranda declared.

‘Yes, but don't touch,' her mother warned. ‘They're still wild animals and people shouldn't feed them or they can become a problem.'

Alice-Miranda just loved watching the way they would sit still for a few seconds, twitch, and then run away at lightning speed.

‘Well, you know, sweetie, that was the best hot dog I've ever tasted,' her father declared as he ate the last bite.

‘It's probably the
first
hot dog you've ever tasted.'
Cecelia Highton-Smith arched an eyebrow at her husband.

‘Of course you must have had hot dogs before, Daddy. That was simply scrumptious,' said Alice-Miranda.

‘Well, not for a very long time, I have to admit,' her father replied.

‘I'll be back in a minute.' Alice-Miranda leapt from the bench and ran along the path back in the direction they had come.

‘Darling, don't go far,' her mother called.

Alice-Miranda reached the hot dog vendor, who was sitting on a folding chair reading the newspaper. His face was lined with the stories of life and his hair had the misfortune of having fallen out in a perfectly round circle on the top of his head. A bushy moustache stood guard over his upper lip.

‘Hello, my name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones,' she said, smiling at the man.

He looked at her quizzically. ‘And to what do I owe this introduction?'

‘Do you have a name, sir?' the child asked.

‘Yes, of course, it's Lou. Lou Gambino,' he replied slowly.

‘Well, Mr Gambino, I just wanted to say that was
the most delicious hot dog I've ever tasted. Thank you very much.'

The man smiled. ‘Really? It was good?'

‘Oh yes, delicious,' Alice-Miranda replied.

‘Would you like another one?' he asked.

‘I would but not today if that's all right. I couldn't fit another thing in.'

‘Maybe you can come back and see me again sometime,' he offered.

‘I surely will,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I'm staying in the city for a month and I'm starting school tomorrow and I can't wait.'

The man shook his head. ‘You're a breath of fresh air if you ask me, Miss Alice-Miranda and I can't remember the rest.'

‘It's Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones,' she replied.

‘Highton,' he mused, looking up over the trees in the direction of the store.

‘Yes, sir, my mummy and daddy are here to oversee the reopening.'

He grinned. ‘Boy, it must be my lucky day, talking to royalty almost.'

‘Oh no, Mr Gambino, we're not royalty, not at all.' Alice-Miranda looked up at him with her brown
eyes as big as saucers.

‘You're the closest thing to it I've ever met.' Lou Gambino glanced up and saw another vendor pushing a pretzel cart towards them. ‘Hey, Geronimo, over here! Come meet my new friend,' he called.

‘All right, all right, I'm coming. These legs don't move as fast as they used to,' the older man yelled back. He pushed his cart slowly. ‘So, who's your new friend?' he puffed.

‘Hello Mr Geronimo, my name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance.' The tiny child offered her hand.

‘She's a Highton – like the store. And what's more she told me that I made her the best hot dog she's ever tasted,' Lou Gambino boasted.

The older man reached down and took Alice-Miranda's hand in his. She looked into his crystal blue eyes and smiled. ‘Well, miss, you're something else. You just wait until you taste my pretzels. They leave his dogs for dead,' the man grinned. The skin around his eyes folded into soft creases and his whole face lit up.

‘That sounds delicious, Mr Geronimo, but I don't
think I can eat another thing today,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I'll definitely see you again soon though, and then I'll try your pretzels.'

Cecelia Highton-Smith called out to her daughter.

‘I'd best go or Mummy will start to worry,' Alice-Miranda declared. ‘It's been lovely to meet you Mr Gambino, Mr Geronimo. See you soon.'

And with that Alice-Miranda spun around and scampered back up the hill to her parents.

Lou nodded his head. ‘She's a cutie.'

‘Worth a fortune too,' said Harry Geronimo. ‘And not like some of the kids around here – wouldn't give you the time of day. No, that little girl's a special one.'

Harry set up his stall beside Lou's. A folding table appeared and Harry produced a chessboard from a cupboard on his stand. The two old friends sat opposite each other.

‘You know, Harry, this is a good life,' Lou smiled. ‘A very good life indeed.'