Alice-Miranda at the Palace 11 (14 page)

‘Oh, look, our first course is here,' Millie announced, grateful for the distraction.

Suddenly, all one hundred guests had steaming-hot bowls of soup in front of them. Jacinta marvelled at the efficiency of Her Majesty's wait staff and wondered how on earth the chefs managed to serve up that many plates all at the same time.

‘Hello Mr Balfour.' Alice-Miranda turned and smiled at the butler after he set a bowl of soup down in front of her and another in front of Caprice.

‘Hello Miss Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones,' the man whispered, keeping an eye on Langley. He knew the man would disapprove of his fraternising with the guests.

‘What's this slop?' Edgar demanded.

‘It looks like mushroom soup to me,' Millie said, staring at the creamy brown liquid in front of her.

Edgar dropped his napkin on the floor. Just as he leaned down, Braxton Balfour swooped in to pick it up. ‘Leave it!' the boy barked. ‘I can do it.'

Braxton Balfour looked as if he'd almost had his fingers taken off by a terrier. ‘Sorry, Sir,' the man mumbled, stepping back.

Edgar tugged on Caprice's arm. She ducked her head down, pretending to search for Edgar's napkin. ‘Did you do it?' the lad asked.

Caprice smirked. ‘Of course I did.'

‘How did you know which one was hers?' the boy asked.

‘I checked the plan that was on the wall in the kitchen. That Langley is really obsessive-compulsive,' Caprice whispered. She sat up and passed Edgar his napkin.

‘This soup smells delicious,' Alice-Miranda said, smiling at Caprice.

‘It's just mushrooms,' Caprice replied. She promptly turned to continue talking to Edgar.

All around the table, diners were delicately dipping their spoons into their soup bowls in the proper fashion, pushing the spoon from the front to the back. Except, not everyone was finding it as easy as they should have.

‘Gosh, this soup is thick,' Millie said as she tried to push her spoon through the bowl.

Jacinta looked over at Millie. ‘What's wrong?'

Millie frowned. ‘My spoon's stuck.'

‘Well, that's ridiculous.' Jacinta leaned over to take a closer look.

It seemed that Millie wasn't the only one having trouble.

‘Freddy, what on earth are you doing?' Elsa whispered to her husband.

‘There's something wrong with my soup,' Freddy whispered back while trying to force his spoon through the bowl.

‘Yum, this is delicious.' Alice-Miranda took a spoonful of soup and smiled at Caprice. ‘Your mother is a whiz.'

Edgar's jaw dropped and he elbowed Caprice sharply in the ribs.

‘Ow!' the girl protested.

‘I thought you had this all worked out,' the boy said through gritted teeth.

‘I did!' Caprice snapped. ‘Those idiots must have got the bowls out of order.'

Several guests were having similar troubles.

‘I say, this soup is awfully stodgy,' Lord Luttrell commented as he attempted to dig his way through it.

‘What's wrong with it?' Sloane asked as Millie wrestled with her spoon.

‘I don't know.' Millie battled on, determined to get a taste. She gave it one last push until the spoon released without warning. A huge brown splodge flew across the table and smacked Caprice right on the nose.

‘Ahhh!' the girl shrieked like a banshee. Caprice picked up her own spoon, poised to launch a counterattack.

Alice-Miranda flung her arm out to stop her. ‘No!'

A little further down the table Lord Luttrell had also finally managed to free his spoon, flinging a glob of soup at Lord Adams.

‘Steady on, Luttrell!' Lord Adams exclaimed, wiping at his forehead with his napkin.

Queen Georgiana looked up and was stunned to see soup catapulting from one side of the table to the other. ‘Good heavens! This is not the dining room at Fayle, for Lord's sake.' Her Majesty shouted. ‘Langley!'

The butler's eyes were almost popping out of his head.

Edgar and Louis both glared at Caprice, who was mopping at her face and snivelling.

‘You were supposed to only put one strip on
her
bowl,' Edgar hissed, pointing to Alice-Miranda.

Caprice wrinkled her nose. ‘Well, there was some left over and I wanted to be sure.'

‘Caprice, I'm so sorry!' Millie exclaimed. ‘My spoon was stuck and I couldn't get it out. I don't know what happened.'

Suddenly, a huge dollop of soup flew into the air and landed with a splash on the front of Alice-Miranda's dress. She had no idea where it had come from but the look on Freddy's face said it all. The man's jaw just about hit the table.

‘Oops.' Alice-Miranda picked up her napkin and dabbed at the runny mess.

Queen Georgiana leapt to her feet. ‘Stop! Stop this at once!' she commanded.

The chinking of cutlery silenced and the guests stared at one another, wondering what on earth had just happened.

‘What's the matter?' Lawrence glanced to his right and realised that several of the diners including his niece were covered in soup. ‘Oh dear, what a mess!'

Further down the table, Marjorie Plunkett twitched nervously. She wondered if whoever was sending those notes had created the soup fiasco as some sort of diversion, though it did just seem like a childish prank.

‘Freddy, pick up your bowl, please,' the Queen directed.

The man balanced the dish while his mother felt around underneath it.

‘Aha! There's something here.' She picked at the thin strip on the underside of the crockery.

Millie held up her bowl and Jacinta did the same, nimbly releasing the offending magnetic gunk and holding it up for all to see.

‘What's that?' Sep asked.

All of a sudden Jacinta's salad fork flew up from the table and attached itself to the strip.

‘How curious,' Marjorie marvelled at the hovering cutlery.

‘It's magnetic,' Lord Adams said, examining his strip. ‘Must be terribly strong.'

Queen Georgiana had managed to prise the strip from her son's bowl and now had a jangling row of silverware hanging off it too.

‘My dear guests, I do apologise for this dreadful trick,' she said. ‘Rest assured that I will arrange to have your clothes cleaned and the expenses taken from the allowance of the two boys whom I suspect are responsible.' The Queen glanced from one side of the table to the other, staring down her grandsons. Louis and Edgar sank in their seats. ‘If anyone needs to freshen up, we'll hold off the next course until you return.'

Freddy glared at his sons. ‘It's all right, Mama. I'll deal with those two after dinner. And I promise you – losing their pocket money will be just the start.'

Queen Georgiana felt the tickle of a grin on her lips. While she was utterly horrified by her grandsons' behaviour, hearing their father step up to the mark was a very pleasant surprise.

Several of the diners began to make a move.

Alice-Miranda looked at Caprice. ‘Do you want to go upstairs and get changed?' she asked.

Caprice wiped her tear-stained face and nodded.

Millie watched from the other side of the table. She had a nagging suspicion the girl had something to do with the debacle. But she had no proof and there was no point accusing Caprice without it.

Braxton Balfour finally retired to his room just after 2 am. The band had played until well after midnight, when the last guests left the ballroom. Fortunately, the rest of the evening had run smoothly after the soup fiasco. But there was work to be done before he and the household staff could get to bed. Vincent Langley would allow no evidence of the party to remain and there were preparations for the picnic brunch in the morning too. Although he was dead on his feet, there was something Braxton needed to
find before he'd be able to sleep. He pulled the old trunk from under his narrow bed and unclipped its rusted latches.

When Braxton had left home at twenty years of age to work for Her Majesty at Brackenhurst Castle, he'd gathered every precious possession he owned and placed them into that trunk. His father and mother had stayed on the farm at Evesbury for another fifteen years before they moved into a retirement home. After they left, their old house was converted to rental accommodation for people who fancied a holiday on a royal estate, and the surrounding acreage was leased to another tenant farmer.

Having spent eighteen happy years of service as a footman at Brackenhurst, Braxton was promoted to the position of under butler at Evesbury just a couple of months ago. More than anything, he desired to be head butler. It had been a dream of his since he was a small boy, when Her Majesty's father had visited their home to thank Braxton's father for catching his treasured stallion, who had escaped from the Evesbury stables. The King had joined the family at the kitchen table for a cup of tea and some of Mrs Balfour's home-made scones.

During Braxton's time at Brackenhurst, his father had passed away and his mother had succumbed to the darkness of dementia. She was now seventy-five, and he feared she would not be with them much longer. Braxton had considered whether returning to Evesbury would open old wounds, but there was never any thought of turning down the position.

He pulled out the crocheted rug his mother had made for him years before and laid it on the bed. Next, there was a schoolbook filled with his attempts at fancy script, and his one and only cricket trophy. There were treasured magazines from his boyhood and an old cricket cap. Tucked in at the very bottom, Braxton found a small envelope of photographs. He wondered if the one he was searching for was still there.

He shuffled through the black-and-white pictures. There were several shots of him as a baby, then as a toddler with his faithful dog Nuff. There were some school photographs evidencing terrible haircuts, and a couple of shots of a camping trip he took with his friends. Braxton's heart sank as he reached the end of the pile. He tried to picture her in his mind but the image was hazy.

He returned the stack to the envelope and was about to put them away when he noticed an outline of something under the newspaper that lined the bottom of the trunk. And then he remembered. He'd hidden the picture under the layer of ancient news.

Braxton gulped. He pulled back the pages and picked up the photograph.

It had been a perfect day. She looked back at him, her eyes sparkling and every bit as lovely as he remembered. He was standing beside her, holding her hand. Braxton felt an ache in his chest and wondered how, all these years later, he could still feel so happy and so sad at the same time. There had never been anyone else. It was as if his heart had been torn in two and no woman, no matter how perfect, could mend it.

Braxton searched her face. Was it really her? Tomorrow he would take that picture with him and find out for sure.

‘Good morning, sleepyheads.' Cecelia Highton-Smith breezed into the girls' bedroom just after nine.

Alice-Miranda had been awake for a little while, reading. In the bed beside her, Millie stretched her arms and yawned. Caprice was still fast asleep in the foldaway under the windows, her breaths punctuated by gentle snores.

‘Hello Mummy.' Alice-Miranda sat up as her mother perched beside her. ‘Wasn't the party wonderful?'

Cecelia smiled and stroked the top of her daughter's head. ‘Yes, it was. Although, I think your father pulled a muscle from all that dancing.'

Millie rolled over and sat up too. ‘Aunty Gee was hilarious! Who would've thought that she and Mrs Marmalade would have that funny dance all choreographed? I could hardly believe it when the rest of the palace staff joined in. I should have taken more photographs.'

‘Aunty Gee knows how to have fun, that's for sure,' Cecelia agreed.

‘And even Freddy got up and danced, but Elsa looked as if she'd swallowed a fly,' Millie said with a giggle.

‘Yes, it was good to see Freddy and his mother getting on,' Cecelia said. ‘I don't think that's been the case for quite some time. Anyway, girls, why don't you get up and have a shower? Then we'll head out to brunch.'

Alice-Miranda pushed back the covers and scurried off to the bathroom.

Caprice's eyes fluttered before she yawned and pushed herself up onto her pillows.

‘Good morning, Caprice,' Cecelia said as she pulled back the curtains and the sunshine streamed
through. She took a seat on the end of the girl's bed. ‘I spoke to your mother a little while ago and she said she'd like you to join her today.'

Caprice's bottom lip began to tremble. ‘But  I don't want to see Nonno when he's sick, and Aunty Gee said I could stay.' Fat tears threatened to spill.

Millie was watching from her bed, wondering when the girl was going to win her first Academy Award.

‘Why don't I phone your mother again?' Cecelia suggested, surprised at the girl's reaction. ‘Perhaps you can stay another day and then we can reassess.'

Caprice nodded. Her long wet lashes framed her sparkling sapphire-blue eyes.

Millie rolled her eyes. It was so unfair that the brat looked beautiful even when she cried.

‘All right, we'll be leaving for the picnic brunch in about twenty minutes,' Cecelia said as she got up and walked to the door. ‘It's a bit of a trek across the field to get there but it's a gorgeous day.'

‘You should go to your mother,' Millie said after Cecelia had left.

‘Why should you get to have all the fun?' Caprice retorted. ‘Besides, I don't want to be near anyone who's dying.'

‘Your grandpa might not die, you know, Caprice,' Millie said.

‘Then I'll see him when he gets better,' the girl sniffed. ‘Bags having the next shower.'

Caprice gathered up her things and ran off to the bathroom, leaving Millie shaking her head.

Aunty Gee's brunch was never going to be your average family picnic. A huge blue-and-white striped marquee had sprung up by the stream and there were pretty folding chairs and small tables dotted across a stretch of freshly mown grass.

Inside the tent, a long oak table heaved under the weight of breakfast treats. There were all manner of pastries, cereals, fruit and yoghurt, and a row of silver chafing dishes with little lamps burning beneath them to keep the bacon, eggs, sausages, hash browns, tomatoes and pancakes warm. Over in one corner stood a counter with three chefs making eggs to order.

‘Good morning, my darlings,' Granny Valentina greeted Alice-Miranda and her friends as they gambolled across the field to join the festivities. Lucas and Sep had taken charge of the twins in their
buggy while Jacinta couldn't resist doing some tumble turns in the long grass. Caprice hovered behind the boys walking beside Sloane, who was doing her best to ignore the girl.

‘Hello Granny.' Alice-Miranda ran towards the woman and gave her a tight squeeze around the middle. ‘Have you already had your breakfast?'

Millie skipped in beside her friend and Valentina gave her a hug too.

‘Yes, Gee and I came down a little while ago. Good thing too, because she's been called back to the palace to sort out some official business. I tell you, that woman works far too hard. She was supposed to be taking it easy this weekend,' Valentina Highton-Smith tutted.

‘Aunty Gee is amazing,' Millie said. The girl checked herself and shook her head.

‘What's wrong, Millie?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘I still can't believe I get to call Her Majesty “Aunty Gee” and that I'm here at the palace and now I'll be staying for a whole week. If someone had told me a year ago that this would happen, I'd have said that they were completely bonkers.'

Alice-Miranda and her grandmother smiled at the girl.

‘Well, Millie, I've known Gee since we were toddlers and I have to say that the woman hasn't changed a bit. She's still the same generous, kindhearted girl I've always known,' Valentina said. ‘So you make sure that you enjoy every minute and don't be afraid to tell everyone exactly what she's like. I think far too many people form views about someone when they don't know the person at all.'

‘What do you mean, Granny?' Alice-Miranda asked.

Valentina sighed. ‘There are certain members of society who'd be very happy to see Gee give up the crown. In fact, there are plenty of people who'd be happy to see the whole monarchy crumble,' she explained.

Alice-Miranda's brow creased. ‘I thought everyone loved Aunty Gee.'

‘Lots do, of course. It's just that there are individuals who would love to see her gone. But not in my lifetime if I have anything to say about it,' Valentina said.

Lloyd Lancaster-Brown had been standing nearby drinking his tea when he overheard their conversation. ‘What are you talking about, Valentina?' he asked.

‘I was just telling the girls that there are people who'd like to see Gee give up the throne,' the woman explained.

‘Surely not.' Lloyd frowned. ‘The woman's a brick. Her son, on the other hand …'

Valentina playfully smacked him on the arm. ‘I'm sure that Freddy will do a fine job when his turn comes.'

‘I can't imagine Aunty Gee not being the Queen,' Alice-Miranda said.

‘Me either,' Millie said. ‘She's like the stars, really.'

Alice-Miranda and her grandmother looked at the child quizzically.

‘You might not see them every night but you know they'll always be there,' Millie explained.

‘What a lovely way to look at it,' Valentina said with a nod.

‘That buffet looks amazing.' Millie had been eyeing the plump croissants ever since they'd arrived in the marquee.

‘Off you go, girls.' Valentina smiled at the children and waved them off. ‘Get in there while there's still something left. I can see Edgar and Louis coming now, and you know what teenage boys are like when it comes to food!'