Alice-Miranda at Sea (17 page)

T
he next morning Alice-Miranda was out of bed and dressed before dawn. She was careful not to wake her friends. Jacinta was snoring loudly and Millie's breathing was deep and even. Clutching the words she had copied from the base of the urn the night before, she knew there was at least one man on board who could translate for her – and perhaps put her mind at ease.

Neville had insisted that he would be all right sleeping in his suite. Millie said he should prop a chair under the door handle for extra security and that's exactly what he had done. Considering the drama of the day, Neville had quickly fallen into a deep sleep and was roused by the beeping of his bedside alarm, which he'd set for 6 am. He wanted to be up before Henderson arrived or worse.

The children had arranged to meet in the library at 8 am and go to breakfast together. Although Jacinta, Sep and Lucas were not fully aware of the situation with Neville, Alice-Miranda had decided there'd be safety in numbers; if Dr Lush saw Neville among the children he'd be less likely to make a scene. Or so she hoped.

Alice-Miranda left the suite and made her way downstairs towards the kitchen. The ship was ghostly quiet at that hour, and she was pleased not to run into anyone on the way.

Through the plastic doorway at the end of the hall she could see several chefs already busy at work.

‘Hello.' Her tiny voice floated into the stainless steel room. ‘Good morning, Chef Vladimir.'

The Russian giant tensed at the sound of the child's voice.

‘What now?' he hissed through gritted teeth.

Alice-Miranda rounded the corner into the main section of the kitchen. Vladimir had been attending to the day's menu when she interrupted his train of thought. ‘Hello Chef Vladimir. Thank you for sending that delicious room service last night. My friend adored your chicken curry. Did you get to see any of the dancing? It was such a fun night, don't you think?' She looked up at him with her huge brown eyes.

‘What you want? I am busy man,' Vladimir growled.

‘Oh yes, Chef Vladimir. I know you are. That's why I came so early . . .' Alice-Miranda began.

‘You think this is early. I have been here since three,' Vladimir replied, narrowing his eyes.

‘Goodness, you must get by on hardly any sleep at all. I need at least eight hours or I'm a mess,' said Alice-Miranda.

‘Well, what you want?' Vladimir demanded. ‘I don't have time to waste and you are biggest time waster on ship.'

‘Well, I came to ask you about this.' Alice-Miranda produced a folded piece of paper from her jacket pocket. ‘I wondered if you would be so kind as to translate it for me? I'm afraid I don't know Russian at all.'

Vladimir reached out his giant paw and snatched the paper from Alice-Miranda's tiny hand. He studied it carefully.

‘Where you see this?' he asked.

‘On a plaque at the base of a beautiful china urn,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I'm certain it must be very expensive.'

‘Then makes sense,' he said.

‘Please, Chef Vladimir.' Alice-Miranda's eyes were wide. ‘Can you tell me what it says?'

‘Maria Bella Lushkov, our dearest mother.'

‘Oh.' Alice-Miranda clutched her face in her hands. ‘Goodness. I had wondered but I didn't like to think it could be . . . that,' the child gasped. ‘No wonder Dr Lush was so upset. Thank you, Chef Vladimir. Thank you very much.'

Alice-Miranda turned and scurried towards the door intent on finding Dr Lush immediately.

‘Hey,' Vladimir called after her. ‘Don't you want to know who she was?'

The child stopped in her tracks. She swivelled around and scampered back towards the chef.

‘Did you know her?' Alice-Miranda asked, her eyes even wider than they had been a moment ago.

‘In Russia, everyone know her,' Vladimir replied.

T
here was no time to lose. Alice-Miranda had listened to Chef Vladimir's story and it seemed Maria Bella Lushkov was very famous indeed. She hurried back along the dimly lit corridors to the Albert Suite.

Neville leapt when Alice-Miranda rapped sharply at the door.

‘It's me, Neville,' she whispered.

The door opened slightly. Neville poked his head around just to be sure and then ushered her inside.

‘Where's Dr Lush's case?' Alice-Miranda puffed. ‘Please, may I have it? I've worked out what's inside it and I need to take it to him immediately.'

Neville didn't like the sound of this. ‘What is it?'

‘Well, this is going to sound odd, but I think it's his mother,' she replied as Neville retrieved the battered case from where he had hidden it in the wardrobe.

‘What?' the boy dropped it to the floor.

‘Oh, dear, I hope it didn't break.' Alice-Miranda bit her lip. ‘That would be terrible.'

‘W-w-w-hat do you mean it's his m-m-mother?' Neville looked as if he was about to faint.

Alice-Miranda picked the case up and placed it carefully onto the dining table. She gently prised open the locks and to her great relief the urn was still in one piece. ‘Well, that nameplate says “Maria Bella Lushkov, our dearest mother”.' She pointed at the engraving in all its Russian code.

‘How do you know?'

‘Remember, I copied it down yesterday and this morning a friend translated if for me. And don't you remember that Admiral Harding said that Mr Alex's name was Lushkov? I wouldn't mind betting that Dr Lush's name is that too but he's dropped the “kov” for some reason or other. Lots of people with foreign-sounding names do that. I think it's a lovely name but he must have his reasons. So I'm sure they probably
are
brothers. Anyway, if this is Dr Lush's mother's ashes then it's no wonder he's upset about losing her.'

‘Ashes?' Neville gulped. ‘But why would he bring them on the ship?'

‘I don't know, really. That's a bit of a mystery, but everything else makes sense, doesn't it? When he was saying that they'd brought her all the way from Russia and she was the most precious thing in the world. Except, I don't know why they would have said they'd be in terrible trouble if anything happened to her. I think something already has,' Alice-Miranda declared.

‘What are you going to do?' Neville didn't like the thought of having a dead woman's ashes in his cabin one bit.

‘I'm going to take the case and find Dr Lush right this minute. I'm sure that if I explain your situation he won't make a fuss.'

Neville's face drained of colour. ‘But he said that he'd tell the admiral.'

‘Look, Neville, I suspect Dr Lush will be so glad to have his case back that he'll be quite happy to keep our secret for the next couple of days. It's hardly as though you're a dangerous criminal, is it? Goodness, I think we might even be able to have some fun – and you'll get to come to the wedding, too.' Alice-Miranda's eyes twinkled.

‘What about that bag of jewels?' After Neville had returned to his suite last night he had searched high and low to see if he could find it.

Alice-Miranda closed the lid of the case.

‘Didn't you hit your head yesterday morning? Do you think that perhaps you imagined that you'd found them, or you dreamt it?' Alice-Miranda was trying to find a rational explanation.

‘I don't think so,' Neville looked glum. ‘I don't know. Maybe.'

After tearing the place apart, he'd begun to doubt himself too.

‘Maybe it was the shock of everything,' suggested Alice-Miranda.

The boy shrugged. Alice-Miranda reached out and placed her hands firmly on Neville's shoulders. ‘I'm sure that once I return the case to Dr Lush, everything will work out just fine.'

Neville wasn't entirely convinced but he had come to realise that if anyone knew what she was doing, it was this little girl.

‘D-d-do you want me to come with you?' Neville offered. He was attempting to be valiant but rather hoped that she'd refuse his offer.

‘No, I'll be fine. Just meet everyone at the library at eight. I'll see you there.'

Alice-Miranda picked up Dr Lush's case and left the room. Although she dearly hoped that returning the case would put everything to rights, she couldn't shake the feeling that Neville hadn't imagined
that laundry bag full of jewels. Something else was going on too. She just had to work out what it was.

A
lice-Miranda navigated her way to Dr Lush's office. It was now quarter past seven and she wondered if he might not yet be in. As luck would have it, the doctor was just returning from his night-long vigil with Her Majesty. It was common knowledge that the Queen suffered from an acute allergy to crustaceans, hence they were never served on any of her menus. When Nicholas had reached her suite last evening, he found Queen Georgiana particularly wheezy and had immediately administered a shot of adrenalin and some steroids. After his encounter with Admiral Harding there was no way he was going to leave the room until Her Majesty was fully recovered. Dead monarchs were not something he was prepared to have on his conscience.

Lush traipsed towards his office. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes and he yawned loudly as he reached the door.

‘Good morning, Dr Lush.' Alice-Miranda bounced towards him.

‘Oh, godfathers,' he muttered. ‘Not you again. What is it this time? A hangnail?' He put his key in the door. ‘Well?' He glanced over his shoulder through squinty eyes.

Alice-Miranda followed him into the waiting room holding the trumpet case firmly in her right hand. ‘No, I'm perfectly fine,' she announced. ‘I just need to talk to you about something.'

Dr Lush opened the internal surgery door and walked through. She heard the computer whir as he jiggled the mouse to wake it up.

‘What is it then?' he called. ‘Come on. I haven't got all day.'

The tiny girl pushed open the door, strode to the chair beside the doctor's desk and scrambled onto it. She placed the battered case on her lap.

Nicholas was preoccupied with the computer and hadn't taken any notice.

‘Dr Lush,' Alice-Miranda said. ‘I've found something that I think belongs to you, or to Mr Alex.'

‘What?' He glanced towards her at last. ‘Mummy!' he gasped as he caught sight of the case. Dr Lush snatched it up and put it on his desk, sprang the locks and opened the lid. He reached out and picked up the urn, then held it tightly to his chest. A tear glistened
in the doctor's eye. Alice-Miranda reached across the desk and offered him a tissue which he promptly snatched.

‘Where did you get this?' His voice quivered.

‘Well, it's quite a long story, Dr Lush. And one that will surely put your mind at ease about Neville,' Alice-Miranda began. ‘Why don't you sit there and I'll make us both a nice cup of tea.'

Alice-Miranda had noticed the day before, while waiting for her splinter to be removed, that there was a small kitchenette off the side of the consulting room. She dashed inside and busied herself making Dr Lush a brew.

‘Why don't you telephone Mr Alex?' the child called while she poured the tea. ‘Perhaps he'd like to come and hear what happened, too.'

‘What? How do you know about him?' Dr Lush glared at Alice-Miranda as she placed a teacup and saucer in front of him.

‘That's not important, Dr Lush. But I'm sure that he'll be pleased to know that the case has been returned.'

Alexander Lushkov arrived not long after Nicholas summoned him. Together the pair listened to Alice-Miranda and her fanciful tale about Neville Nordstrom and the two trumpet cases.

‘He's terribly scared of being in trouble with his parents,' Alice-Miranda explained. ‘After everything the poor boy's been through, it would be lovely if he could just enjoy himself until we dock.'

Nicholas and Alexander exchanged knowing looks.

‘Seeing she's been so honest, I think we should tell her our story too,' Alexander said. The doctor gave a small nod.

‘Please, I'm a very good listener,' Alice-Miranda offered.

‘Maria Bella, she was our beloved mother,' Dr Lush began.

‘And she was beloved by all of Russia too,' Alex added.

‘Your mother was famous,' Alice-Miranda said.

‘It all began a long time ago when we were just small boys. Our mother had the voice of an angel. She loved to sing but she sang only for us and our father,' Dr Lush said.

‘But then our papa . . .' Alex sniffed.

‘Are you all right, Mr Alex?' Alice-Miranda popped up and snatched a tissue from the box on Dr Lush's desk and handed it to him.

‘One morning on his way to work, our papa suffered a massive heart attack,' Dr Lush continued, ‘and passed away.'

‘Oh, that's terrible.' Alice-Miranda clasped her hands together tightly.

‘And we had no money, so our mother worked many hours, all day and half the night. She took in ironing and sewing and she looked after children and cooked, she wore herself out, but all the time she sang. She said that she was singing our father home,' Alex spoke.

‘That's so beautiful.' Alice-Miranda looked up at the brothers, wide-eyed.

‘And then one day a man passing beneath the open window heard her singing. He was the director of the St Petersburg Opera and could recognise a great talent when he heard it,' Alex explained.

‘Our mother, Maria Bella Lushkov, soon became the most celebrated star of the Russian opera, renowned across the world for her soprano voice,' Dr Lush added.

‘Mama got sick a little while ago and on her deathbed, she asked that we take her home to Venice, where our grandfather had taught her to sing,' Alex explained.

‘Well, of course you should do that,' Alice-Miranda agreed. ‘But I don't understand why you didn't just take a flight and go to Venice.'

‘It's because of her fame. She is a national treasure and the authorities would not allow such a thing. We had to steal her from the crypt and when I heard that the
Octavia
was heading for Venice and this was a top-secret cruise, I thought it was perfect. I got Alex a job in the band so we could do this together,' Dr Lush added.

‘That's a wonderful story,' said Alice-Miranda. She walked over to the two men and patted each one on the hand.

‘Thank you for finding her,' Alex smiled. ‘We appreciate it.'

‘Yes, thank you, Alice-Miranda. Perhaps I have been wrong about children,' Dr Lush added. ‘Well, some children.'

‘I'm just glad that things have worked out,' Alice-Miranda smiled at the brothers.