Alice-Miranda at Sea (14 page)

'M
aster Neville, I found your trumpet case,' Henderson called as he entered the suite. He had been shocked to see it poking out from behind a flowerpot in the storeroom beside the ballroom. He knew how attached the boy was to it and its rather unusual contents. But there was no mistaking the brown leather case with its tatty corners and huge smiley face sticker in the middle of the lid.

Henderson placed the case beside the end of the couch and walked into the bedroom. There was no sign of Neville. The bathroom door was open but he wasn't in there either.

Perhaps his mother had finally taken an interest and insisted he escort her to dinner.

Henderson attended to his evening duties, turning back the bedclothes and fluffing the pillows. He switched on the bedside lamps before turning his attention to the bathroom where he hung up the towels and tidied the vanity. His last chore of the evening was to rearrange the cushions on the couch. He looked at Neville's trumpet case and decided that the young boy would probably feel better if his beloved instrument was tucked away safely under the pillows, which is exactly what he did. That way, Master Neville would find it as soon as he hopped into bed.

‘And I'll just collect the laundry,' Henderson said to himself as he opened the wardrobe doors. ‘Don't want to get myself into any more trouble with the boss.'

Upstairs in the ballroom, the dance floor was packed with guests shimmying and shaking to the sounds of a Bollywood beat. The saris were spectacular, with literally thousands of sparkling sequins and crystals. While Lady Sarah felt quite naked without her jewels, there was enough bling to ensure that no one would notice – tonight at least.

Vladimir and his staff had again outdone themselves with an Indian feast fit for a king, or in this case, a queen.

On the long smorgasbord tables, kormas and koftas sat alongside naan breads and chutneys, curries of all intensities and fragrant rice. Alice-Miranda spotted Mrs Oliver making some notes about one particularly tasty dish.

‘Oh, I simply have to find out how Chef Vladimir gets that consistency,' she gushed at Alice-Miranda.

Over at the main table, Cecelia Highton-Smith was asking Admiral Harding if he'd seen Dr Lush.

‘No, we had quite a few passengers take ill this afternoon in the storm, my dear. The doctor won't be off-duty for hours I should think,' the admiral commented.

‘That's a pity,' Cecelia replied. ‘I had asked him to join us for dinner. He did a wonderful job of pulling that horrid splinter from Alice-Miranda's foot.'

‘Yes, I heard the poor lass had a nasty lump of wood embedded between her toes,' Admiral Harding said with a deep frown. ‘I am terribly sorry, Cecelia – there are men upstairs as we speak, sanding and repolishing the decking around the pool. We simply can't have that on the
Octavia
.'

‘Please don't fuss, Admiral. Alice-Miranda's absolutely fine,' Cecelia replied. ‘If I know my daughter, I'm sure she'll be up dancing any minute.'

But that was not quite the case. Aware that it had been a while since she saw Neville, Alice-Miranda decided to pop out to the kitchen and ask if Chef Vladimir could supply her with some leftovers. She had already placed two dinner rolls in a napkin and was holding onto them tightly
.
Millie spied her leaving. ‘Where are you going?'

‘I just need to take something for the pain in my foot,' said Alice-Miranda. She hated telling untruths, but her foot
was
starting to throb a little and she didn't think she'd be able to dance. Maybe she should ask her mother for a tablet.

‘I'll come with you,' Millie offered.

‘No, it's all right. I won't be long.' Alice-Miranda disappeared out the side door and made her way to the kitchen.

Unlike the first time she had been there, tonight the atmosphere was electric. Vladimir barked orders at his men, who were rushing from hotplate to oven and back again.

Alice-Miranda marched into the galley. ‘Hello Chef Vladimir.'

‘Who zaid that?' he exploded.

‘Excuse me, Chef Vladimir, it's me, Alice-Miranda – down here,' she called.

Vladimir gazed at the tiny child. ‘You should not be here. Get out!' he roared.

‘I am sorry, Chef Vladimir, I know you're terribly busy, but I wanted to know if I might have a takeaway pack of some of the dinner, please?' she continued.

‘Takeaway, what on earth you want that for?' he demanded.

‘Well, you see, I have a friend who couldn't come tonight and I know that he would love to try some of your dishes. Truly, sir, I don't think I've ever had Indian food as good as this and, believe me, I've spent quite a lot of time with Mummy and Daddy's friend Prince Shivaji in his palace in Jaipur. He has wonderful chefs but I think you could teach them a thing or two,' Alice-Miranda beamed.

‘You think so, do you?' Vladimir's chest puffed out like a peacock's.

‘Oh, yes, Chef Vladimir. Your vegetable kofta was amazing.'

‘You!' Vladimir pointed at a pasty young chef. ‘Get this child anything she wants. Deliver for room service.'

‘Oh, no, that won't be necessary, Chef Vladimir. I'd like to deliver it to my friend myself. Take-away containers will be just fine,' Alice-Miranda confirmed.

‘I don't believe we have such thing in my kitchen,' Vladimir frowned.

‘You must have some plastic storage containers, Chef Vladimir. I promise I'll bring them back afterwards,' Alice-Miranda assured the chef.

‘Where is this friend of yours and why he not come to the party?' Vladimir asked, his dark eyes narrowing.

‘He hasn't been feeling well since the storm so he's stayed in for the night. I just wanted to take him some dinner and the room service trays are far too big for me to manage on my own,' Alice-Miranda said. This was proving more difficult than she had first imagined.

‘Well, I get one of these idiots to help you, then. I can't let my food go into plastic container. Iz not right. Will contaminate taste,' Vladimir insisted.

‘All right then, Chef Vladimir.' Alice-Miranda looked up at him with her brown eyes as big as saucers. ‘I'll come back in a few minutes to let you know which room he's in.'

Alice-Miranda knew very well that Neville's room was the Albert Suite but she thought she'd better convince him to return there from his hidey-hole before the room service was sent.

‘Telephone the number, miss, and stay out of this kitchen. Iz no place for child – there are men with knives.'

‘Goodbye, Chef Vladimir,' she called. ‘Thank you very much.'

Vladimir stared at her as she scampered from the kitchen. There was a strange feeling buzzing on his lips – something he hadn't felt for a very long time.

One of the chefs prodded another who was standing beside him. ‘Did you see that?' he whispered.

‘What?' the other replied.

‘Old Vlad the Impaler, I think he almost cracked a smile,' the cook grinned.

‘What you grinning about? Imbecile! You know the rules. There is nothing to smile about in my kitchen!' Vladimir thumped his fist on the nearest bench and stormed off to shout at someone else.

Alice-Miranda exited the kitchen and headed along the corridor towards the stairs.

‘Alice-Miranda!' a voice called out behind her. ‘Where are you going?'

She turned to see Millie approaching.

‘I thought you said that you were just taking some medicine.'

‘I do need some medicine, I promise, but I have something else I need to do too. I was going to tell you once I had worked things out a little bit more. But come with me and I'll explain on the way.' Alice-Miranda took Millie's hand and the two girls made their way downstairs.

Alice-Miranda told Millie how she had come to meet Neville and what a nervous boy he was and that he now thought he was in huge trouble for being on the wrong ship.

‘That
is
a pretty outrageous story,' Millie agreed. ‘Are you sure he's telling you the truth? Maybe
he's
a miniature paparazzo sent to creep into the party and get the best pictures for
Gloss and Goss
.' Millie smiled at her own cleverness.

‘I'm sure he's telling the truth,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘The poor boy quivers like a jelly most of the time, and it took every ounce of strength for him to explain how he came to be here. Dr Lush had to treat him earlier today and he has a couple of stitches in his brow –'

‘What happened to him?' Millie interrupted.

‘He had an unfortunate collision with a cereal bowl. Anyway, Dr Lush must have worked out that Neville shouldn't have been there and he yelled at him through the door and said that he was going to tell Admiral Harding. That's when I spotted him fleeing down here.'

‘Why don't we just go and tell your parents and then he can join in the party? He sounds like he could do with some fun.'

‘Yes, I thought so, too. I suggested that to Neville but he's so scared he doesn't want me to tell anyone. I have a feeling bringing you along is going to cause him a great deal of distress. Anyway, I have a plan to get a message to his parents so that
hopefully
they won't call the police or cause too much of a fuss. We really don't want to attract any attention to the ship, so I've written a letter.'

‘A letter?' Millie quizzed.

‘Yes. Neville's parents live right down the road from Sep's mum and dad, so I wrote to Sloane asking her if she could deliver a letter to them,' Alice-Miranda replied.

Millie shook her head. ‘Oh, you know she won't help. She hates us.'

‘Well, I can only try,' said Alice-Miranda. ‘And you know I don't think Sloane's as bad as all that.'

‘Well, I hope you're right.' Millie skidded down the last step onto the metal floor. ‘Isn't that the engine room?'

‘Yes, through there.' Alice-Miranda pointed at the large steel door. The roar of the engines had settled to a hum as the ship anchored off the coast for the night.

‘Is
that
where he is?' Millie asked.

‘No, he's at the end of this hallway in a storeroom.' The smaller girl led Millie down the dimly lit corridor.

The girls reached the storeroom and Alice-Miranda knocked gently at the door.

‘Neville,' she whispered. ‘It's me.' Alice-Miranda turned to Millie. ‘Just wait here for a moment while I explain about you to Neville.'

The lock turned and Neville opened the door. Alice-Miranda thrust two dinner rolls into his hands and slipped into the room.

‘I'm sorry. It's all I could get at the moment. And I have something to tell you,' Alice-Miranda began. ‘I know that I promised not to tell anyone about you, but it's just that my best friend, Millie, saw me coming out of the kitchen and wondered where I was going.'

Neville gulped. His throat felt as if there was half a loaf of bread wedged in it and he hadn't yet taken a bite of his rolls. Streams of perspiration began to run down his forehead and he reached inside his pocket and took two puffs of his inhaler.

‘It's all right, Neville, I promise it is. Millie won't tell anyone about you. She's just outside and I'd really like you to meet her.' Alice-Miranda turned around and unsnapped the lock. She beckoned for Millie to come in.

The red-haired girl scurried inside and Alice-Miranda locked the door behind her. In the yellow light, Neville's already pale complexion had taken on a chalky texture.

‘Hello,' Millie spoke.

Neville managed a gulp.

‘Millie is my best friend in the whole world, Neville, and she's very good at keeping secrets. She won't tell anyone about you,' Alice-Miranda reassured him.

‘She's right, Neville. I'm good at keeping secrets. One day, when you're feeling better, we'll tell you all about Miss Hephzibah. That was a huge secret to keep.'

Alice-Miranda guided Neville and Millie to sit down so she could explain her attempts at getting Neville some more food.

‘You were in the Albert Suite, weren't you?' Alice-Miranda said carefully. ‘I think that's where our friend Jacinta's father is meant to be. How long were you there?'

‘Until this afternoon, when you saw me.' Neville had finished the first roll and was almost through the second.

‘So, how many people know you were there?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘That doctor who came after me and Henderson, the steward,' Neville replied.

‘And you're sure that's all?' Alice-Miranda asked.

Neville nodded.

‘I wonder where on earth Mr Headlington-Bear is, then? He's meant to be on the ship and clearly he's not if you managed to stay in his suite for the past couple of days. And I wonder why your butler, Henderson, didn't realise that you were the wrong person. That's very shabby security,' Alice-Miranda thought aloud.