Alice-Miranda on Vacation (15 page)

“Have you time for tea?” Cecelia asked.

“Is Dolly in?” Ambrose smiled.

Cecelia grinned back at him. “She’s been looking forward to seeing you all day.” Ambrose offered Cecelia his arm and together they walked inside. “Come on, girls,” she called over her shoulder. “Why don’t you take Millie up and get her settled.”

The children were laughing and chattering like monkeys.

“Mummy, this is the best surprise,” Alice-Miranda called to her mother. “Thank you.”

And with that the girls raced through the kitchen door and flew up the back stairs. Mrs. Shillingsworth was in the hallway balancing a skyscraping pile of towels.

“Girls,” she called. “I’ve had to do some reshuffling with your sleeping arrangements. We have a house full of people for the weekend, so, Jacinta, I’m afraid I’ve reclaimed your room for some of the grown-ups. But Mr. Greening’s been busy in your room, Alice-Miranda. I imagine you’ll all approve.”

“I’m sure it will be wonderful, Shilly,” Alice-Miranda agreed. “This is Millie,” she said, gesturing to her friend.

Mrs. Shillingsworth nodded and said hello.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Millie beamed.

“Come on, everyone.” Alice-Miranda skipped down the hallway to her bedroom. She pushed open the door. “It looks just like school,” she laughed.

The room now had three beds. Alice-Miranda’s own enormous four-poster stood in the middle of the floor as always, but there were now two single beds jutting out from the opposite wall under the windows.

“This is the best holiday ever!” Alice-Miranda collapsed backward onto her bed.

Jacinta and Millie each claimed one of the single beds.

“So.” Millie rolled onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows. “What have you been doing this week?”

“We’ve got heaps to tell you,” Jacinta began, her eyes widening.

“Yes, it’s certainly been an interesting time,” Alice-Miranda agreed. “Not quite what I had expected, but that’s part of the fun, I suppose.”

“S
o what
do
you think Mr. Ridley was doing out in the garden in the middle of the night?” Millie rolled onto her back and stared at the swirl-patterned plaster ceiling in Alice-Miranda’s room. Jacinta had just finished telling her about the gorgeous Mr. Ridley and his curious midnight meeting.

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly good explanation,” Alice-Miranda replied.

“Come on, you’ve got to be kidding,” Jacinta rebuked her. “And what about that black car and the noises you heard when you were visiting Granny Bert and the fact that Daisy looked upset when we
saw her at the start of the week? There’s something strange going on around here. Even I know that, and I’ve spent most of the week sick in bed. And then there’s Lucas.”

“Well, I think he’s changed a lot. He was lovely this afternoon. Even Jasper seemed to be coming around to him,” Alice-Miranda replied.

“He told me some things when I fell over him in the field,” said Jacinta, who was lying flat on her bed with her legs pointed up at right angles, flexing her feet back and forth.

“What do you mean, fell over him?” Millie wrinkled her nose.

“Oh, that’s not important.” Jacinta waved her hand dismissively. “I asked him where his mother was and he said that she had gone away for work and that’s why he’d been sent to boarding school. It’s true what Poppy said—he was expelled, but he said it was for sticking up for some poor kid who couldn’t defend himself. It sounds like his mother goes away a lot. Come to think of it, I know how he feels. My mother’s never around, is she?” There was a sharpness in Jacinta’s voice. “When I asked about his father he got really snappy. He said he doesn’t even know who he is. That’s pretty sad, don’t you think?”

Alice-Miranda silently admitted to herself that there were more than a few things still bothering her. But until she could talk to Mr. Ridley and Lily she didn’t want to let her imagination run away with itself. There had to be a perfectly sensible explanation for everything—she just couldn’t work out what it was yet. And as for Granny’s friend with the black car, Daisy said that everything was just fine. Granny
was
getting rather old these days, after all. She probably just mistook the plans for something else and popped them in the crisper. She’d just as likely put them away again before Alice-Miranda had returned the other day. Alice-Miranda made a mental note to check the oven the next time she was at Rose Cottage.

There was a loud knock on the door and her mother entered.

“Hello, girls, I do hope your sleeping arrangements are up to scratch.” Cecelia stood in the middle of the room surveying the new layout. “It looks rather fun to me. Do you want to come downstairs? Your grandfather is heading off soon, Millie—although I must say he and Mrs. Oliver have been enjoying a lovely chat over their tea and scones.”

“Yes, Grandpa mentioned a few times as we were driving over that he hoped Mrs. Oliver would be
home. Apparently they were friends a long time ago, I think even before he met Granny.”

“Yes, they’ve been having a wonderful catch-up.” Cecelia winked at Alice-Miranda. “I’ve asked if he would like to come back for dinner tomorrow night, but he said something about his favorite show being on the telly.”

“Oh, that’s just sad,” Millie scoffed. “I’ll have a word to him. He’s become so dull since Granny passed away. He really needs to get out more. You should have seen him this morning when we went to the village and ate ice cream for breakfast—he was making jokes and having the most wonderful time.”

“Well, come on then, girls.” Cecelia guided her charges toward the kitchen stairs. “I’ll just pop up and see how Mrs. Shillingsworth is getting on, and then I’ll be down in a tick.”

In the kitchen, Ambrose and Mrs. Oliver were having a very jolly time when they were interrupted by the children. They were laughing so hard there were tears traversing the lines of their wizened cheeks.

“My goodness!” exclaimed Alice-Miranda. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, oh, my dear—” Mrs. Oliver disintegrated into a fit of giggles.

“Well, you see.” Ambrose almost choked on his
words. “I was reminding Dolly about a picnic rally we went on a very long time ago.” He began to chuckle.

“Yes?” Millicent walked up and put her hands on her grandfather’s heaving shoulders. “Go on, Pa,” she begged.

“Well,” Mrs. Oliver snorted. “There was a group of us heading off on a car rally, with the goal being to meet up and have a picnic lunch. I was the navigator and your grandfather here had paired me up with his best friend, Dougal. We headed off with the picnic in the back and the map in my hand. I have to say that my heart was somewhat aflutter.…” Her chest began to heave and she was again overcome with laughter.

“Did you fancy Dougal?” Millie asked.

“Rather, my dear.” Mrs. Oliver composed herself.

“But that doesn’t sound funny at all,” Jacinta frowned. “What happened—why are you laughing?”

Ambrose began again. “Well, you know that the aim of a car rally is to find a range of locations and then the final destination. Dolly wasn’t very good at reading the map, and after missing the first three checkpoints the rest of the party started to get a little concerned about them.”

“Where were you, Mrs. Oliver?” Alice-Miranda asked.

“Oh, my dear, I was trying to be very clever and decided that we should take a shortcut. There was a bit of track and we were heading to a village I knew well. So I directed Dougal down into a field. We were bumping along having the loveliest chat when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a big black bull heading toward us. It seemed that he had taken exception to our little car invading his territory. He charged right at us, snorting and pawing at the ground.”

“What happened next?” Alice-Miranda asked, wide-eyed.

“Well, we continued until the bull had his nose right up against the front of the car. He actually butted against us a few times, and Dougal was rather cross about the brute damaging his paintwork. Poor Dougal put the car into reverse but only managed to bump back into a huge mud puddle. The wheels started spinning and there we were. Stuck in the mud—bogged—with this enormous beast bellowing at the top of its lungs. There was nothing we could do but sit in the field and wait to be rescued.”

“Did you find them, Pa?” Millie asked her grandfather.

“We sent a search party, and in the end we were so worried they had driven off a cliff or into a river that we got the local constable involved.”

“Then what happened?” Jacinta begged.

“Well, we were there for hours! At about eight o’clock a light came into view. Sure enough, there was a police car, siren blaring, heading toward us. The bull had gone to sleep in front of the car and the constable found us eating cucumber sandwiches and drinking cold sweet tea. He shooed the bull away as though it were a lamb—made Dougal and me look more than a little silly. My mother and father were quite beside themselves thinking that Dougal had made off with me. It was most improper. It was a wonder that we ever married.”

“So Dougal was your husband?” Jacinta asked.

“Yes, dear, God rest his soul.” Mrs. Oliver smiled.

When Millie suggested that her grandfather come back for dinner tomorrow evening, he rather surprised everyone.

“That would be delightful,” he agreed. “Now, what about that tour of your laboratory before I head off?” Ambrose guided Dolly by the arm. “I’d love to see what you get up to down there.”

“Oh my sainted aunt!” Mrs. Oliver declared. “I’ve left Mrs. Smith down there for hours. What a frightful friend I am!” Mrs. Oliver grabbed a wooden spoon from the kitchen bench and handed it to Alice-Miranda. “Darling girl—can you stir that pot on the
stove? I’ll be back as soon as I can.” And with that she raced out the door to the entrance of the cellar at the end of the veranda.

“Bye, Pa,” Millie called to her grandfather as he disappeared after her.

He ducked his head back inside the door. “Bye, darling, see you tomorrow.”

Millie ran to give the old man a hug.

“W
ell hello,” Mrs. Smith greeted her red-faced friend. “I was beginning to think you’d been kidnapped.”

“Doreen, my dear, I am terribly sorry. I’ve had a visitor this afternoon and we got a bit carried away with a trip down memory lane,” Mrs. Oliver said.

Ambrose had followed her down into the cellar, albeit carefully, as his legs weren’t what they used to be.

“Mrs. Smith, I’d like you to meet my friend, Ambrose McLoughlin-McTavish, grandfather of Alice-Miranda’s little friend Millie.”

The old man extended his hand, which Mrs. Smith shook gently.

“A pleasure to meet you, sir.” Mrs. Smith smiled. “I think I may have seen you up at the school.”

“And you too.” His eyes twinkled kindly. “Yes, I like to pop over and watch Millicent play sport as often as I can manage.”

Ambrose studied the rows of stainless steel benches lined with all manner of flasks, beakers and other scientific equipment. At the other end of the cavernous room, a full commercial kitchen boasting two gigantic cookers took up a considerable amount of space. Another row of benches ran along the wall, topped by several computers.

“So what exactly do you do down here in this amazing cave, Mrs. Oliver?”

“I like to invent things,” she answered.

“Oh, get off with you, woman. She’s far too modest,” Mrs. Smith scoffed. “Have you heard of FDF?”

Ambrose rested his chin in his hand. “Didn’t I read something about that in the newspaper recently? FDF, now, what does that stand for again?”

“Freeze-Dried Foods,” Mrs. Smith replied. “Our Dolly here is the inventor—it’s all her handiwork. But if you can think of a better name, do let us know.
We’re all racking our brains to come up with something more interesting, aren’t we, Mrs. Oliver?”

Dolly nodded.

“Goodness me, my dear. What a clever old bird you are! Who would have thought?”

Mrs. Oliver blushed a deep shade of red. “It’s just something I’ve been playing with for a while now. The idea of having proper food, freeze-dried so that it won’t perish and can be easily transported—well, after what happened to my dear Dougal, it was a challenge I couldn’t resist.”