Alice-Miranda at Sea (15 page)

‘Please,' Neville begged. ‘You promised that you wouldn't tell anyone about me. And you've already told her.' He pointed at Millie. ‘I don't want to get in trouble and I didn't mean to get on the wrong ship.'

Fat tears wobbled in Neville's eyes and spilled onto his cheeks.

‘It's all right, Neville. I take my promises seriously,' Alice-Miranda soothed. Her mind was racing. She had thought for a moment that perhaps it would be best to let her father in on Neville and his predicament. Daddy would know exactly how to help. But then, she really didn't want to cause a fuss before the wedding and poor Neville was so upset.

‘What about if we go back upstairs to your suite and I have the food delivered there?' Alice-Miranda asked. ‘We know Mr Headlington-Bear's not using it, and if you're missing, Mr Henderson will likely raise the alarm anyway.'

Neville hunched further under the desk. ‘I can't go back. That doctor, he knows I shouldn't be there and he said that he was going to tell the admiral.'

Alice-Miranda bit her lip. ‘I'm sure that I can explain to Dr Lush. He's a perfectly reasonable man and I really don't understand what he would have to gain from telling on you.'

‘But –' Neville began.

Alice-Miranda put her finger to her lips. She thought she could hear voices – and they were getting closer.

‘What's that?' Neville whispered.

‘Someone's trying to open the door,' Alice-Miranda said.

‘Quick!' Millie shoved Neville into the depths of the storeroom and grabbed Alice-Miranda's hand. The three of them hid underneath a writing desk that was pushed into the back corner. Neville snatched his trumpet case from the floor beside him but remembered that his kit bag was sitting next to the chair he had been sitting on.

‘I've got to get my bag,' he wheezed.

‘It's all right, I'll get it.' Alice-Miranda raced out and returned with the kit bag just as the key jiggled in the lock and the door opened.

Neville's heart hammered inside his chest and Alice-Miranda thought he might pass out. Jammed in together under the desk, the children couldn't see who it was that had entered the room. Alice-Miranda hoped they were just after some supplies and would disappear again in a minute.

The door clicked shut and Alice-Miranda heard the lock turn. She was just about to hop up when a voice growled.

‘I can't believe you. Are you completely thick?'

‘No!' another replied.

Alice-Miranda listened intently.

In the darkness under the desk Alice-Miranda could see only the whites of Neville's eyes.

‘Why did you pack her into a trumpet case, you idiot? I'd have thought she deserved better than that.'

‘It was inconspicuous,' the other fellow replied. ‘And I'm in a band.'

‘I just can't believe it. I knew I should have taken care of her myself. We've carried her all the way from Russia, she's the most precious thing in the world, and now you've gone and lost her,' the first voice berated. ‘Why didn't you keep her in your room?'

‘Well, I did but then my room mate came in and saw it and he said that all the instruments had to be left in the storeroom. I took her up, then I took her back down and hid her, but those cabins aren't very roomy, you know. He must have found her and taken her back up again when I wasn't there. It's not my fault. Someone must have picked her up. She can't have gone far,' the second man replied.

‘If you don't find her before we get to Venice . . . I just don't want to think about it,' the first man spat. ‘What did the case look like?'

‘Very shabby and quite beaten up, really. It's that old one I had when I was a boy, with the giant smiley face sticker in the middle. I can't imagine that anyone would want it. It's not worth anything.'

‘Not worth anything! Are you kidding? The contents of that case are worth more to me than anything.' The first man seemed to stifle a sob.

‘You're being a bit dramatic, aren't you, brother?'

‘Dramatic!
Dramatic?
' the first man hissed. ‘I'll give you dramatic!'

‘Well, I'm sure the case can't have gone far,' the other man spoke.

‘Hang on. Did you say a smiley face sticker?'

‘Yes, I put it there myself about fifteen years ago.'

‘I've seen that case. That boy, the one who's in the Albert Suite. He's got it,' the first man exclaimed. ‘He's a stowaway
and
a thief. Come on, let's go back up there now and get it. He'll have some explaining to do . . .'

Alice-Miranda's mind was a whirl. Russia . . .
She
 . . . the most precious thing in the world . . . What did it all mean – and why did it sound so familiar?

‘I've got a key,' the first voice hissed. ‘Hurry up, you numbskull.'

The door opened with a snap and the men exited the storeroom, locking it again from the outside.

‘What was all that about?' Millie said as she hopped out from under the desk.

Neville's clenched hands were wet and he felt as though he might throw up.

‘I don't know, exactly.' Alice-Miranda pushed herself from under the desk and reached out to help Neville to his feet. The children moved back towards the less crowded end of the storeroom. ‘The first man – I recognised his voice.'

‘It was Dr Lush!' Millie exclaimed.

‘He's the man who came looking for me,' Neville confirmed. ‘But what does my trumpet case have to do with anything?'

‘And who was the other man? He called him brother,' said Alice-Miranda.

Millie's eyes widened and she looked like she was about to explode. ‘Alice-Miranda! It was them. I bet they've got those jewels your father and Aunty Gee were talking about at dinner the other night. They said they'd carried her all the way from Russia – the most precious thing in the world.'

Alice-Miranda looked doubtful. ‘Millie, I'm sure that's not it at all.'

‘Why not? It makes sense, doesn't it? Who would suspect they were carrying one of the world's most precious diamonds in a battered old trumpet case?' Millie asked.

‘Do you really think the doctor is a thief?' Neville's eyes were wide.

‘Of course not,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation.'

‘But there's something else I haven't told you,' Neville wheezed.

‘What is it?' Alice-Miranda noticed that the boy was shivering despite the temperature in the room being positively tropical.

‘When I was getting my bag out of the wardrobe, I saw something. At first I thought it was a laundry bag, but then I pulled it down and it didn't have laundry in it.'

‘Well, come on, Neville,' Millie coaxed. ‘Out with it. What was in the bag?'

‘Well,' Neville gulped. ‘There was a towel and inside the towel there were . . . jewels.'

‘Jewels? What sort of jewels?' Alice-Miranda asked, aware that it had taken all his strength to say as much as he just had.

‘I don't know, but they were sparkly and there seemed to be quite a lot of them.'

‘I wonder who they belong to?' Alice-Miranda's thoughts were racing.

Millie had already made up her mind. ‘They're stolen, of course. Dr Lush probably hid them there.' Alice-Miranda opened her mouth to object, but Millie carried on. ‘So are you sure that's a trumpet in there?' she gestured towards Neville's battered case.

Neville swallowed hard. ‘It's not a trumpet.'

‘What is it, then?' Millie demanded. ‘Do you have their case?'

‘No! It's a Spanish Greenish Black-tip Euchloe Bazae,' Neville replied.

‘A what?' Millie asked. ‘Is that a type of jewel?'

‘Well, some people think so,' Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘It's a butterfly.'

‘A butterfly? Well, it won't last long in there,' Millie said.

‘No, it's in a frame and it used to belong to Neville's grandfather,' Alice-Miranda explained. ‘That's how he came to be interested in them in the first place. And would you believe that this particular butterfly is meant to be extinct. But clever Neville's found a whole colony of them and he needs help and that's why he's on the ship.'

‘I don't understand.' Millie bit her lip. ‘Why did Neville need to come on the
Octavia
to get help with butterflies?'

‘No, he's not meant to be on the
Octavia
. He thought he was going to America on another ship, but Aunty Gee persuaded him that he should get on board and here he is.'

‘This is very confusing,' Millie sighed.

Neville flipped open the locks and pulled a timber frame from the centre of the padded case. He passed it to Millie. A tiny, perfect butterfly, greenish-black, was mounted under the glass. He pulled out an envelope full of photographs and passed them to Alice-Miranda.

‘Neville showed me these before. He took them just last month. See, Millie – it's the same butterfly.'

‘Oh, they're beautiful, Neville,' Millie admired. ‘You're a very good photographer.'

Neville managed a tight smile.

‘But why didn't you just telephone someone at a university or something?' Millie asked. ‘I'm sure there are people who are into butterflies who could have helped you.'

‘I did, but my Spanish is so bad they couldn't understand me and said that I was a mischief- maker,' Neville whispered. ‘I tried to tell some people in the butterfly club too but they said I must have been mistaken. But I'm not. I know I'm not and I just wanted someone to believe me. This habitat is going to be bulldozed next month for houses.'

‘Why didn't you tell your parents then? Couldn't they help you?' Millie asked.

‘My dad thinks I'm at football training when I'm hunting butterflies. I didn't want to disappoint him and I don't think he'd understand at all. And he's not exactly into conservation. You see, he'll quite likely be the one supplying the bulldozers. He's gone into business with a man called Smedley Sykes and they're doing lots of developments.'

‘Sykes? Did you say Sykes?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘Well, that figures,' Millie frowned. ‘You'd better convince your butterfly friends to move quick-smart. I bet that's Sloane's father, and if he's anything like her and her mother, your butterfly habitat doesn't stand a chance.'

Alice-Miranda could see the fear on Neville's face. ‘We don't know for sure,' she said soothingly.

‘So why were you going to America?' Millie asked.

‘I met someone on the internet in our club chat room and I know he can help me,' Neville began.

‘But why do you need to go there?' Millie asked. ‘Why don't you just tell him?'

‘Because he won't talk to me any more.' Neville bit his thumbnail.

‘I really don't understand any of this,' Millie sighed.

‘Don't worry, Millie. I'll explain the rest later. I'm sure it will all work out for Neville – and just imagine – he'll be an environmental hero!' Alice-Miranda added.

The corners of Neville's mouth turned ever so slightly upwards.

‘I think we should go back to your suite soon,' Alice-Miranda said.

‘But how?'

‘I'll have a chat with Dr Lush straight away and see if we can get things cleared up,' Alice-Miranda replied.

‘No!' Millie advised. ‘What if he has a gun? Criminals usually carry weapons and you might not be as lucky as the last time.'

‘The last time?' Neville exclaimed. ‘Do you make a habit of this sort of thing?'

‘Of course not, Neville.' Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘I'm sure Dr Lush isn't dangerous. He was very gentle when he removed that splinter from my foot today. There has to be a perfectly reasonable explanation. I'm sure of it.'

'T
here you are, Lush.' Admiral Harding walked towards the doctor, who was hurrying along the corridor on his way to the Albert Suite. Nicholas elbowed the tall man with the unmissable hair beside him, who, after some terse words, changed course to slope back to the other end of the hallway and disappeared from sight.

‘Sir,' Lush addressed the admiral.

‘I've just heard that Her Majesty is not feeling the best. You need to get to the Royal Suite immediately,' Admiral Harding commanded. ‘It could be one of her allergic reactions by the sounds of things. Heaven only knows how we ended up with crustaceans on the ship – if that's what it is. You'd better be prepared to stay with her through the night. I've already sent Prendergast. Such a reliable young fellow.'

‘But, sir, I just need to –'

‘Dr Lush, are you telling me that you're not going to attend to our monarch as a matter of urgency?' The old man raised his left eyebrow.

‘Of course, sir. I'll go straight there,' Nicholas Lush sighed. He couldn't believe he was so close and now this.

‘You'd do well to have an attitude adjustment, Lush,' Admiral Harding advised. ‘Sighing and pouting are two things I will not put up with on this ship.'

‘Yes sir,' the doctor mumbled as he scurried away to attend to the Queen.

Alice-Miranda, Millie and Neville left the safety of the storeroom and scampered upstairs to the Gallery Deck. Just as they arrived on the landing, Admiral Harding strode along the hallway.

‘Good evening, young ladies, young man,' the admiral greeted the group. Neville thought he might throw up on the officer's gleaming black shoes. ‘Have you had enough of the party already?'

‘Oh no, Admiral, we're having a wonderful time,' Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘Have you seen Dr Lush?'

‘Yes, just a few minutes ago I sent him up to take care of Her Majesty. She's not feeling the best.'

‘Was he with anyone?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘No, not when I spoke to him. But come to think of it, I saw that extremely tall fellow with the incredible hair scuttling off in the other direction. Don't know what he was doing with Lush. He's in the band. I introduced myself to him just yesterday. I'm sure that he should be upstairs working right now.' The admiral rubbed his chin. ‘I don't know. It's so hard to get good help these days.'

‘Oh, we met him too, when we were exploring yesterday. His name's Alex,' Alice-Miranda replied.

‘He must be Dr Lush's brother,' Millie whispered.

The admiral didn't hear her. ‘Yes, that's it. Alexander Lushkov. Russian name, I think. Mmm.' He thought for a moment. ‘You haven't observed any unusual behaviour among the passengers today, have you?'

Neville moved in behind Millie and stared at the floor, willing a hole to open up and swallow him into the depths below.

‘What sort of behaviour?' Millie asked.

The admiral cleared his throat. ‘Just anything out of the ordinary. People acting strangely, as though they don't really belong.'

‘No, not at all,' said Alice-Miranda. ‘Has something happened?'

The admiral shook his head. ‘No, no, just a feeling, that's all.'

‘Oh, really, do you get them, too?' Alice-Miranda stared at the old man intently. ‘It happens to me quite often, and you know, I have had a strange feeling about a few things on the ship since we arrived. I just can't say exactly what they are yet.'

Admiral Harding nodded, then a horrified look passed over his face. ‘Good heavens, lad, have those trainers been through a war?' The old man continued to stare at Neville's grubby shoes. ‘Have you got a voice, son?'

‘Y-y-y-es, sir,' Neville wheezed.

‘Are you unwell?' The admiral strode forward and peered around Millie's shoulder where Neville was trying to make himself invisible. He was holding his trumpet case behind his leg and Millie had his kit bag slung over her shoulder. Fortunately both seemed to go unnoticed by the admiral.

‘N-n-n-no, s-s-sir,' Neville stammered.

‘You're not a stowaway are you, lad? Dr Lush was trying to tell me we had a boy hiding on board the ship. I can't imagine anything more preposterous now, can you?'

‘Oh, Admiral Harding.' Alice-Miranda walked forward and looped her arm into the old man's. ‘What a thing to say! That's Neville and he's with us.'

‘Oh, of course he is.' The admiral nodded and then whispered, ‘Are his parents friends with your parents?'

‘Not exactly,' Alice-Miranda replied.

‘Oh, they must be with the Ridleys,' the admiral decided. Alice-Miranda did not correct him. ‘Anyway, my dear, I must be off to do the rounds. Hurry back to the party. There was some rather fierce dancing going on up there – your dear Shilly and Mrs Oliver were giving the young ones a great run for their money.'

Alice-Miranda walked the admiral to the other end of the corridor.

‘And if you notice anything unusual, you will come and see me on the bridge . . .' The admiral's voice floated back down the hall as he walked away with his tiny guide.

Millie and Neville stopped and pretended to admire a cubist Picasso adorning the wall beside the Albert Suite. When the admiral had shuffled off around the corner, Alice-Miranda raced back to join her friends.

Neville was fumbling with his key. He jiggled it into the lock, opened the door and the children hurried inside.

Millie raced into the bedroom and wrenched open the wardrobe door.

‘No, the other end,' Neville panted. ‘I threw the bag onto the top shelf.'

Millie scampered onto the lower shelves and hauled herself up as far as she could. She felt around for the laundry bag but there was only empty space.

Alice-Miranda stood on the bed and jumped up to see if she could catch a glimpse of anything.

‘There's nothing there.' She jumped several more times to be sure.

‘But I threw it up there just before I left.' Neville looked as though he was about to cry. ‘You do believe me, don't you?'

‘Of course we do Neville.' Alice-Miranda hopped down off the bed and placed her arm around his shoulders. Neville flinched. He wasn't used to being consoled by girls.

‘Dr Lush must have taken it,' Millie decided. ‘He was on his way up here, that's the only explanation.'

‘You heard the admiral, Millie,' Alice-Miranda said. ‘Dr Lush is with Aunty Gee.'

Neville's stomach growled like a hungry kitten.

‘I think we should order you some food before you pass out.' Alice-Miranda skipped into the sitting room, picked up the telephone and dialled through to the kitchen. A few moments later she declared, ‘It will be here shortly,' and placed the handset back into the cradle.

‘If Dr Lush thinks you have his trumpet case, maybe we should hide
this
, in case he comes back and takes it.' Millie picked up Neville's case and began looking for a suitable place to conceal it. ‘What about in that cupboard next to the mini bar?' she suggested. The boy nodded.

Millie closed the cupboard door and plonked down on the couch next to Neville who was holding his head in his hands.

‘This is such a mess,' he mumbled.

‘It's all right, Neville,' said Alice-Miranda as she opened the door of the mini bar. ‘How about I pour you a cold drink? I don't know about you, but I'm rather thirsty.'

‘May I have lemonade?' Millie asked.

There was a sharp rap on the cabin door.

‘Oh no, it's them!' Neville stood up to flee.

‘Don't be silly, Neville.' Alice-Miranda passed Millie a glass of fizzing liquid. ‘I'm sure it's just your dinner.'

She bounced into the foyer and opened the door. A strong smell of curry drifted into the room.

‘Hello, I'm Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith- Kennington-Jones,' Alice-Miranda introduced herself. ‘And you must be Mr Henderson. Thank you so much for bringing Neville some dinner.'

‘I was surprised to get the call, miss,' Henderson replied. ‘I thought Master Neville must have eaten at the party.'

‘No, he wasn't feeling well, so my friend Millie and I offered to accompany him back here and stay with him for a bit,' Alice-Miranda explained. ‘Didn't I see you yesterday up on the bridge, Mr Henderson? With the First Officer.'

‘Yes, miss,' he replied. ‘He certainly likes to keep me busy.' The steward entered the sitting room and placed the tray on the dining table.

‘Are you all right, Master Neville?' he asked, eyeing his young charge. ‘Is your forehead sore?'

Neville shook his head and cast his eyes to the ground.

‘If there's anything more I can do, you know how to reach me.' Henderson uncovered the steaming plates. ‘Oh, and I found your trumpet case.'

‘My trumpet case?' Neville's voice quivered.

‘Yes, I was surprised to see it poking out from behind a pot plant in a storeroom near the ballroom. I know how attached to it you are,' Henderson explained.

Millie and Alice-Miranda shot one another a look.

‘Thank you very much, Mr Henderson,' Alice-Miranda said quickly.

‘Where is it?' Millie demanded.

‘I put it in the bedroom under the pillow. I thought Master Neville would find it as soon as he went to bed tonight,' Henderson replied. ‘I'll get it for you.'

Henderson walked through into the bedroom. His eyes darted around at the open wardrobe doors and rumpled duvet cover, which he immediately set about straightening up.

‘Sorry, it's a mess.' Alice-Miranda had followed the steward into the room. ‘We can fix it.'

‘It's no bother.' Henderson closed the wardrobe doors. ‘What were you looking for?' He pulled the trumpet case from its hiding spot under the pillows, and handed it to Neville. All three of the children had joined him in the bedroom.

‘Neville's trumpet case, of course,' Millie said. ‘Weren't we, Neville?' She nudged the poor lad in the ribs.

‘Yes,' he murmured.

‘But since you found it, we don't need to look any more,' said Alice-Miranda.

‘Well, if there's nothing else, I'll be off.' Henderson made a beeline for the door, muttering something to himself about having to report to the bridge, again.

Millie raced out of the bedroom and retrieved Neville's case from the cupboard
where it was hidden. She plonked it beside Lush's on the bed. ‘Gosh, it does look exactly like your case, Neville.'

‘Imagine that there were two young musicians out there in the world who had identical cases, and placed identical smiley face stickers in the middle of the lid. What a strange coincidence,' Alice-Miranda marvelled.

‘Do you r-r-really think there might be s-s-stolen jewels in there?' Neville stammered.

‘Of course not,' Alice-Miranda replied. But she wasn't so sure. There were certainly some odd things going on.

‘Well, I think we should take a look.' Millie began to fiddle with the lock on the side of Dr Lush's case. ‘If Dr Lush is responsible for all those thefts, then this is a very important discovery. Your father said that the Orlov diamond is one of the largest in the world.'

Although Alice-Miranda never liked to think the worst of anyone, she agreed that this was a mystery that had to be solved.

Millie snapped open the locks and slowly raised the lid. But there wasn't a diamond in sight.

‘What's that?' Millie could barely mask her disappointment.

Alice-Miranda peered inside.

‘It's an urn. Like a vase, only with a lid, and by the looks of this one, I'd say it's rather precious,' Alice-Miranda replied.

Neville pointed at a gold plate on the base. ‘What's that?' It was engraved but the letters were not English.

‘I think it's Russian.' Alice-Miranda leaned in close to have a better look. ‘Can you pass me a piece of paper and a pen please, Millie?'

Millie raced over to the writing desk and retrieved a notepad and pen.

Alice-Miranda set about copying the characters down.

‘What are you doing?' Millie asked.

‘I think I know someone who can tell us what this says,' she said slowly, as she concentrated on getting the letters right.

‘What are we going to do about Dr Lush and Mr Alex?' Neville rasped. ‘They're going to tell the admiral about me and then I'm going to be in trouble. And what about the bag of jewels? They must have taken them.'

Alice-Miranda was silent.
Things were not right on the
Octavia
and she was determined to find out what was going on before anything could spoil her favourite aunt's wedding day.