Alice-Miranda in the Alps (11 page)

Sloane, Sep, Jacinta and Lucas forged their way to the edge of the track, and then up into one of the temporary grandstands that had been erected for the event.

‘Hurry up,' Sloane said. ‘The race has already started.'

‘There's some space over there,' Lucas said, pointing to the back row.

The children shuffled past the seated patrons, who grumbled about them blocking their view.

‘They're so fast,' Sloane gasped, her tummy fluttering at the thought of her friends riding next.

As the field rounded the bend and charged down the straight towards the finish line, it was neck and neck between a jockey in red and another in blue. A huge bay horse with a jockey in green silks surged to the front, leaving the rest of the field in its powdery cloud.

Jacinta shouted and waved at Mrs Oliver and Mrs Shillingsworth, who made their way up into the stand to join them.

‘Well, that was exciting, wasn't it?' Mrs Shillingsworth panted. ‘Oh dear, I have to catch my breath.'

‘Not as exciting as the next race is going to be,' Sloane said with a sly grin.

‘Why is that, dear?' Shilly asked.

‘Our very special race is soon to begin,' the announcer said as a huge cheer went up around the track, ‘but first we will have the presentation for the last race.'

It only seemed to take minutes for the jockeys and their owners to gather onto the podium, where they were presented with exquisite crystal trophies and a giant novelty cheque to the winner.

‘What's everyone so excited about now?' Dolly said, craning her neck to see.

As the ground crew cleared away the podium, several stumpy ponies trotted out from behind one of the tents and onto the track.

Shilly smiled. ‘Oh, aren't they precious?'

A roar of laughter echoed through the crowd as a pony carrying a rather large rider appeared and darted all over the racecourse.

Dolly giggled. ‘Good grief, I hope the lad gets a headstart to give him a fighting chance.'

‘Can you see them yet?' Jacinta asked, leaning out around the other spectators.

‘See who?' Dolly asked.

The little ponies ran all over the track towards the finish line, warming up.

‘There's Alice-Miranda!' Sloane yelled, jumping to her feet and calling out to the girl.

‘No!' Shilly's jaw dropped. ‘What on earth is she doing down there?'

The tiny child waved up at the crowd. She was wearing lilac silks with a white star in the middle of her back and her Shetland pony was a small bay steed with a very jaunty gait.

‘There's Millie,' Sep called out as the child cantered past on a grey pony. Millie's silks were red with white stripes.

Dolly's eyes were the size of dinner plates as she struggled to understand. ‘Does Cecelia know about this?'

Lucas nodded. ‘She and Pippa told them they could do it.'

‘Mad! Stark-raving mad, the pair of them,' Shilly blustered. ‘What if they fall?'

‘Then they can keep Cyril company,' Sloane said cheekily.

The other children stared at the girl.

‘What? I didn't mean it,' she protested.

‘I can't believe Cecelia would have encouraged them,' Dolly Oliver tutted. ‘I wish Hugh was still here. He'd have talked sense into the woman.'

‘Have you ever seen Bony and Chops at full gallop? Shetlands will be a walk in the park for those two,' Jacinta said, trying to reassure the distressed woman.

Mrs Oliver shook her head. ‘Not on an icy track.'

‘There's Cecelia now,' Shilly said. She waved to the woman, who was walking along with Pippa and Hamish.

Hamish shielded his eyes from the sun. ‘You've got the perfect position up there.'

The three of them bounded up to join the others at the top of the grandstand.

‘What were you thinking, Cecelia?' Dolly Oliver said, shaking her head. ‘This can't be safe.'

‘It's all right, Dolly.' Cecelia patted the woman's arm. ‘Pippa and I watched them warm up. I have to say their ponies are two of the sweetest tempered little things I've ever encountered. Shetlands aren't always known for their agreeable manners but those two are darlings.'

At that moment the PA system blared again, calling the riders back to the start.

‘We are just about ready to start a new race on our program. It's one for the young riders, the Shetland Stakes, sponsored by our very own Fanger's Palace Hotel,' said the announcer.

A cheer went up around the course as Otto Fanger blew kisses to the crowd from the edge of the track. Every inch of him exuded Alpine royalty. He was cradling Princess Gertie in the crook of his arm and soaking up the adoration. His wife, as pinched as ever, stood by his side and gave a halfhearted wave.

‘She doesn't look very happy to be here,' Jacinta observed.

‘She doesn't look very happy full stop,' Lucas said with a grin.

‘We have a fabulous field of eight runners and their very brave riders, two of whom I am told have never ridden on the snow before,' the announcer continued. ‘We wish them the best of luck on their dash down the straight.'

The ponies, too small for the barrier, were assembled behind a red line that had been sprayed onto the snow.

‘I can see the starter having his last words with the group,' the announcer said, talking the crowd through the activity at the starting line. ‘And they're off! Itty Bitty got away quickly, followed closely by Tiny Dancer. Then we have Strudel and Ladybird, next I can see Twinkletoes and coming up on the outside is Hula Hoop. As they reach the halfway mark, Bumblebee is making up ground and after her is Lollylegs. Our newcomers are doing well …'

‘I can't look,' Shilly moaned, covering her eyes. A moment later she spread her fingers ever so slightly, unable to resist a tiny peek. ‘It's just like Cyril all over again.'

The crowd went wild as the ponies drew closer to the finish line.

‘Go, Alice-Miranda! Go, Millie!' Cecelia yelled, echoed by their friends.

‘I think Millie's going to win,' Sep said, holding his breath as her little grey mare, Bumblebee, flashed ahead of the rest.

‘Oh dear, Itty Bitty looks to be tiring and Tiny Dancer has fallen to the back of the field. What's Strudel up to?' the announcer pondered aloud.

The little cream-coloured beast was throwing his head in the air. There was a groan from the crowd as the pony stopped in its tracks, made a sharp left turn and then tore off back towards the starting line. The spectators roared with laughter when the pony pulled up at the rail and stole a plate of apple strudel from a little boy who had, up until that second, been enjoying his afternoon snack.

‘Now we know why she is called Strudel, eh?' The announcer chuckled. ‘But, look, we have a new leader. Bumblebee has some sting in her tail today! She's followed by Lollylegs, and here comes Tiny Dancer,' the man's voice reached a crescendo, as the crowd clapped and cheered. ‘They've hit the line and it's Bumblebee in first place! I think we will have to check the photo for second and third.'

‘Millie won!' Hamish cried. He hugged Pippa and jumped up and down. ‘Our little girl won!'

Mrs Oliver and Shilly embraced with relief. Sloane and Sep did too until they realised what they were doing and quickly withdrew from one another.

‘Ew, don't touch me,' Sloane grouched.

Sep was mortified. ‘I didn't mean to.'

‘It looks like Alice-Miranda came third,' Hamish said, pointing to the track.

Jacinta disentangled herself from Lucas's arms. ‘I told you those two are amazing,' she said to Mrs Oliver and Mrs Shillingsworth, who were both fanning themselves and gasping for breath.

‘Please put your hands together for Herr Fanger and his lovely wife, Frau Doerflinger, here to present the prizes to our winners,' the announcer boomed.

Millie and Alice-Miranda both jumped off their mounts and hugged each other.

‘You were unbelievable!' Alice-Miranda said, beaming at her friend.

‘You were too,' Millie said, her smile stretching across her face.

Johan Heffelfinger jogged onto the track and shook hands with both children as two grooms took the ponies from them. ‘Well done, girls!' he exclaimed.

‘That was the best!' Millie said. ‘We'll ride for you anytime.'

‘Please come back again next year,' Herr Heffelfinger said with a wink.

A man holding a microphone invited the children onto the stage. Otto Fanger and Delphine Doerflinger were standing on either side of him, behind an array of trophies. Otto had put Princess Gertie on the ground and, judging by the disdain on the little dog's face, she didn't seem particularly impressed about it.

‘I think we should congratulate all our runners for their courage,' the man said. The crowd responded with enthusiastic applause. ‘And now to our placegetters. Congratulations to Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones, for coming third riding the lovely Lollylegs.' Alice-Miranda, who was standing to the right of Frau Doerflinger, stepped forward as Herr Fanger handed her a small silver trophy in the shape of a cup.

‘Thank you, Herr Fanger.' She shook the man's hand and smiled at his wife. ‘Thank you, Frau Doerflinger.' Alice-Miranda looked at the woman, who seemed much more interested in the crowd.

Delphine grunted in reply.

A small boy with a mop of white-blond curls named Piers was given a slightly larger trophy for
second place. He raised his riding crop into the air in victory.

‘I am sure that we all hope the Shetland Stakes becomes a regular feature on the White Turf calendar,' the presenter said, looking to Herr Fanger.

The hotelier nodded vigorously while his wife plastered a grin on her face.

‘Well, there can only be one winner, so I would like to ask Millie …' The man leaned around and whispered to the girl. ‘I'm sorry I don't know your full name,' he apologised.

‘Just Millie is fine,' the girl said.

‘Millie, please come and accept your trophy,' the presenter said into the microphone.

As the girl walked to the middle of the stage, the crowd cheered. None more enthusiastically than the group at the top of the central grandstand, who were whistling and whooping.

‘It seems you have a lot of fans, Miss Millie,' the man said.

The child's freckles exploded into a burst of crimson confetti.

‘Well done, Miss Millie. I did not know you had such talents,' Otto said with a grin. He passed her a trophy that was almost as tall as she was.

‘Thank you, Herr Fanger.' Millie shook his hand and the pair posed for the photographers.

Alice-Miranda smiled at her friend but was soon distracted by Frau Doerflinger. The woman appeared to be scouring the crowd for someone. Her complexion was pallid and even though the temperature was a crisp minus eight degrees, a trickle of perspiration ran down her temple.

Alice-Miranda tried to work out what Frau Doerflinger was looking at. She followed the woman's line of sight until her eyes came to rest on a very glamorous couple. The man wore a long black coat and a sneer, while the woman's waterfall of glossy brunette curls framed an almost perfectly proportioned face. She wore a black fur coat with a row of pearls the size of quail eggs around her neck. Alice-Miranda recognised her as the whiny woman from the chairlift the other day. The man raised a glass of champagne in Frau Doerflinger's direction and Alice-Miranda could have sworn the woman began to tremble.

‘Let's give all of these brave children another round of applause,' the presenter boomed into the microphone.

Millie grinned at Alice-Miranda, who smiled back at her. When she looked out into the crowd again, the couple were gone.

Delphine Doerflinger pinched the tips of her gloves, easing them off before she swiped her key card against the panel. She pushed open the door and began to take off her coat when she noticed an unmistakable scent – one that had no business being inside her home. She quickly turned to leave, pulling her coat back on.

‘Going somewhere, Frau Doerflinger?' the intruder said.

Delphine stopped in her tracks and swallowed hard. ‘How did you get in here?' she asked.

‘That is none of your concern,' the man said coolly. ‘You are home early.'

Delphine spotted a suitcase in the hall. She looked at it and back at the intruder. ‘I have a headache,' she replied.

‘You certainly do.' The man raised his eyebrow at her. ‘Now, what's this I hear about the Baron deciding not to borrow
our
money?'

‘He is a smart man. He must have read the fine print,' Delphine said, her temperature rising.

‘Then you must find another way to honour your agreements,' the man said.

The sound of heels striking the timber floor bounced around the walls, followed soon after by the voice of a young woman.

‘For such an ugly hag she has many beautiful things,' she trilled. The young woman reached the hallway, twirling the silk Hermès scarf around her neck, and saw the man was no longer alone. ‘Oh, I didn't know you were here,' she said, fingering the diamond teardrops dangling from her lobes.

‘Take them off at once,' Delphine demanded. Otto had given her those earrings for their tenth wedding anniversary and the sight of them on that gold-digger made her stomach churn.

‘Or what?' The young woman smiled. ‘I'm sure you would agree that they look much better on me.'

‘Otto will be back any minute now. You cannot be here,' Delphine said, hating the pleading note in her voice.

‘You clearly don't know your husband as well as I do,' the man scoffed. ‘Herr Fanger loves nothing more than to be the centre of attention. He will not leave the racetrack when everyone in St Moritz is falling all over themselves to congratulate him. But perhaps there is one thing he loves even more than an adoring crowd … Is it his wife?' The man looked at the young woman, who shook her head.

‘No, no, no,' she giggled, fluttering her fingers.

‘Is it his hotel?' the man asked, sweeping his arm around the room.

Sancia pouted. ‘I don't think so,' she said in a singsong voice.

‘Oh, I know!' The man grinned. ‘It's that stupid little dog.'

The brunette reached into her pocket and pulled out Gertie's diamond hairclips, which she displayed on her palm for Delphine to see. ‘Can I keep these, Vincenzo?'

‘Of course you can,' he sneered. ‘Princess Gertie may not be needing them if someone refuses to cooperate.'

Delphine's heart thumped in her chest. ‘What did you do?' she rasped.

‘Poor little Gertie. I think she has run away,' the man said.

‘Please don't hurt her,' Delphine begged.

‘What do you care?' the man replied. ‘You despise that mutt.'

‘But … Otto loves her,' Delphine said. She despised
herself
for getting into this mess.

The man glared at her. ‘I thought you hated him too.'

Delphine's mouth grew dry. Otto was an annoyance, a buffoon, but he was a good man with the kindest heart and he didn't deserve to lose everything because of her stupidity.

The young woman walked into the lounge and plonked down on the largest of the sofas. ‘Vincenzo, can we go now? I am so bored,' she whined loudly. ‘And you promised me chocolate.'

‘We will leave soon enough,' Vincenzo replied. He gestured to the suitcase. ‘We don't want to keep Frau Doerflinger from her train.'

Delphine baulked. ‘What are you talking about? I have a hotel to run!'

‘You have a hotel to
buy
,' Vincenzo said. ‘I suggest you get to the other side of the mountains right away and close that deal, or you know what will happen.'

‘I can't just leave. What will I tell Otto?' Delphine protested.

Vincenzo shrugged. ‘You take regular trips to the chocolate factory. Isn't that what you always tell him?'

Delphine inhaled sharply. It was, but she had never told Vincenzo that. ‘I have to write Otto a note.'

Sancia tripped out to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. ‘I can't believe you don't have any chocolate in this house,' she called.

‘It is peculiar given the amount of chocolate downstairs,' Vincenzo agreed. He turned to follow Delphine to her study.

‘You don't need to accompany me,' she snapped.

Vincenzo tilted his head to one side and smiled. ‘On the contrary, Frau. It would not do me well to leave you to your own devices.'