Alice-Miranda Shines Bright 8 (12 page)

 

A
lice-Miranda raced to Myrtle's side. She checked that she was still breathing and then said, ‘I think she's fainted. Millie, can you call Con­stable Derby and let him know what we've found – and tell him that Mrs Parker has fainted too?'

Millie went to the telephone and dialled for the police. Mrs Parker had one of those ancient handsets that was still attached to the wall. The phone rang for ages before finally someone picked it up.

‘Hello Mrs Derby, it's Millie. Is Constable Derby there? I need to talk to him about Mr Parker. And Mrs Parker has fainted,' Millie babbled.

There was a pause as she listened to Mrs Derby on the other end of the line.

‘So, when will he be back?' the child asked. ‘Please tell him to come as soon as he can. It's very good news. Mr Parker didn't go with Nurse Raylene at all. Alice-Miranda found a note.'

Alice-Miranda could hear Mrs Derby's excited voice through the telephone.

‘That's a good idea. I'll call Miss Grimm straight away.' Millie hung up the phone.

Alice-Miranda looked up from where she was patting Mrs Parker gently on the cheek. ‘What did she say?'

‘Constable Derby is at the railway station talking to the detectives there but Mrs Derby's going to call and let him know what we found. He could be a while so we should see if someone from school can come over and help with Mrs Parker.'

Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Why don't you go and see if Mrs Headlington-Bear is home yet? I'll stay here.'

Millie agreed and immediately set off across the road.

Ambrosia's shiny sports car was just turning into the driveway. Jacinta was sitting in the passenger seat with a face like thunder.

The driver's door opened and Millie flew around to greet Ambrosia.

‘Hello Millie,' the woman said, then whispered, ‘I don't think Jacinta's in the mood to play.'

Jacinta got out of the car and slammed the door, then stalked into the house without giving Millie a second glance.

‘It's not that,' Millie blurted. ‘It's Mrs Parker.'

‘What's happened now?' Ambrosia's day had gone from bad to worse. She had been looking forward to a cup of tea and a lie-down before getting on with the article she was writing for Highton's. She hadn't missed a deadline yet and she wasn't about to start.

‘She's fainted,' Millie said.

‘Oh!' Ambrosia clutched a hand to her chest. She took off across the road towards Myrtle's bungalow, with Millie scrambling beside her.

‘And she was really mad that you hadn't put the sheets into the wash –' Millie began.

Ambrosia huffed and cut her off. ‘Was she? I don't know how I've come to be her personal slave.'

‘No, you don't understand, it was the best thing that could have happened! When Alice-Miranda went to do the washing, she shook the sheets and a letter fell out,' Millie continued.

‘What letter?'

‘A letter from Nurse Raylene saying that she'd gone home to see her father,' Millie explained.

‘But why did she take Mr Parker with her?' Ambrosia asked.

‘She didn't. He was still here when she left, and she said that she thought he was getting much better.'

Ambrosia's eyes widened. ‘So Mr Parker didn't run off with the nurse?'

‘No. He's just missing.'

Ambrosia opened Myrtle's front door and raced to the kitchen, where Mrs Parker was making groaning noises.

She rushed to the woman's side. ‘Oh Myrtle, this is wonderful news!'

Myrtle lifted her head off the table and rubbed the side of her forehead. ‘What are you talking about?' she growled.

A sharp memory pierced the fog that shrouded Myrtle's head. Had she dreamt it or had the child just read something about Reginald?

‘Reginald?' For a moment Myrtle Parker sat absolutely still, as she tried to remember what had sent her into a spin. ‘Well, don't just stand there,' she ordered as the letter's contents came flooding back to her. ‘Call Constable Derby. Tell the man to get the search teams together. Put out that ABC again. My Reginald is close by and we need to find him.'

Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘That's the spirit, Mrs Parker.'

‘Constable Derby won't be back until later this evening,' Millie said. ‘I've already talked with Mrs Derby.'

‘And what did the woman suggest we do?' Myrtle demanded.

‘Find someone to help us look after you,' Millie replied.

‘What? I don't need looking after. I'm not an invalid, you know!' Myrtle crowed.

And with that, she stood up and smoothed the front of her floral dress, marched to the sideboard and picked up her hat. She jammed it onto her head and scooped up her handbag.

‘Myrtle, what are you doing?' said Ambrosia.

‘What does it look like?' Myrtle sniffed. ‘I'm going out.'

‘Yes, I can see that, but where are you going?'

‘I'm going to find my husband.' Myrtle turned on her low brown heels and stormed down the hallway. ‘And I'd appreciate some help if any of you could be bothered to come along.'

Alice-Miranda, Millie and Ambrosia all looked at one another.

‘I think she's lost it,' Millie whispered.

Ambrosia thought the same thing.

‘Perhaps you should go with her, Mrs Headlington-Bear. Millie and I will go and see if we can get Jacinta to come back to school with us,' Alice-Miranda suggested. She wanted to look for Mr Parker but she was worried about Jacinta too.

‘Yes. It's not as if the police haven't looked for Mr Parker already. He really could be anywhere by now,' Ambrosia agreed.

‘You should call your father and get him to put Mr Parker on the cereal boxes,' Millie said.

Ambrosia looked at the girls in confusion and then shook her head. ‘Never mind. Let's go.'

For all her striding and harrumphing, Myrtle Parker had only got as far as the front door. ‘Well,' she called, ‘is anyone coming with me or do I have to go on my own – again?'

Ambrosia Headlington-Bear sighed then called out, ‘I'm coming, Myrtle.'

Alice-Miranda and Millie followed the women down the driveway. Myrtle Parker hopped into her car and turned the key in the ignition while Ambrosia was still closing the passenger door. Alice-Miranda tapped on the driver's window and Mrs Parker wound it down.

‘Mrs Parker, did Mr Parker have any special friends in the village before he got sick?' she asked.

Myrtle shook her head. ‘Reginald didn't have any friends except me. He was a very private man. Anyway, he had far too many things to do around here to be out socialising.'

But that wasn't entirely true.

‘Oh,' Alice-Miranda said with a frown. She was sorry to hear that. She'd often imagined Mr Parker being quite outgoing and funny.

‘Good luck,' Millie said as Myrtle began to back down the driveway.

The two girls waved and watched as the car puttered along the lane.

‘I hope they find him,' Millie said.

‘Me too,' Alice-Miranda agreed. But she had a strange feeling that they wouldn't be seeing Mr Parker for a little while yet.

‘Come on, let's go and see the pyromaniac,' Millie said.

Alice-Miranda looked at her friend reproachfully. ‘Millie, please don't say anything to upset her.'

‘She's already upset. Nothing I say will make a difference,' Millie said.

‘Don't be so sure of that,' Alice-Miranda replied.

‘If you say so. But you can go in first. If she's going to rip someone's head off, it's not going to be mine.'

 

 

A
t home, Silas Wiley changed into his new purple jogging suit. He retrieved the little jar from his jacket pocket and took it downstairs to the kitchen, where he hid it in the cupboard among the jams and peanut butter.

‘Safe as houses,' he muttered.

He took a water bottle from the fridge, snatched his keys from the bench and jogged down the hallway to the front door. For the past few months he'd gone running every day and was surprised by how much better it was making him feel – even if he had struggled to run more than a hundred metres at first.

The front gate banged as he took off down the street towards the huge park on the edge of Downsfordvale. The afternoon sun beat down on his back and tiny beads of perspiration formed on his brow. As he ran, Silas wondered how he should deliver the good news about his discovery to Finley Spencer. Although he hadn't actually spoken with the owner, surely Finley would be more than happy about what he'd learned and they could sort out the details with the old fellow soon enough. He thought about telephoning her when he got home but decided that was the least dramatic option.

Perhaps he should play it cool and ask for a meeting. Maybe she'd send the helicopter to pick him up. Wouldn't that make the plebs at the council green with envy? Silas had never ridden in a chopper but he'd always considered it the domain of the super-successful. And Finley Spencer was certainly that.

He turned into the park and started down the perimeter track, completely lost in his own thoughts. Silas ran past a blur of pastel-clad joggers but when he tripped on a stone he was jolted back to the present. A woman was running towards him.

‘Ursula.' Silas crossed to the other side of the path and almost bumped into her.

Ursula pulled her earphones out. ‘Oh, Mayor Wiley, I didn't realise you ran in the afternoons now as well,' she puffed.

Silas was trying hard to calm his breathing too. ‘Yes, yes, Urs. Morning, evening, noon, night. I just love it and we all know the results, don't we?' He smiled at her and patted his almost flat stomach.

Ursula had to stop herself laughing out loud. She'd never met such a vain man in all her life. ‘I'll leave you to get on with it then,' she spluttered and turned to head off in the opposite direction.

‘No, wait, Urs. Um, I was just about to head back that way myself.' Silas turned around while jogging up and down on the spot.

‘But I thought you always ran in the same direction around the park.' Ursula had often heard her boss boasting of his athletic prowess and the exact route he took through the park. Boring as his nattering was, she was grateful for it, as it had allowed her to completely avoid the situation she now found herself in. Ursula turned a grimace into a smile. ‘Of course, sir.'

‘Urs, you really must stop all this “sir” and “Mayor Wiley” business when we're out of the office. Call me Silas, for heaven's sake. Anyway, Urs, I wanted to talk to you about something, so it's wonderful that we've bumped into each other,' Silas gabbled as they began running again.

‘Oh?'

He flashed a grin. ‘It's to do with Finley Spencer.'

Ursula frowned. She wondered why his news couldn't wait until they were in the office tomorrow.

‘You mustn't share this with anyone,' Silas instructed.

She nodded. If there was one thing Ursula was very good at, it was keeping secrets.

‘Finley Spencer wanted me to help her get some old fogey over at Winchesterfield to sell her his land. She's keen on a new housing development – you know she's such a forward thinker. I suspect there will be plans for a giant shopping complex and the like,' Silas prattled. ‘It will be good for the district.'

Ursula nodded, although she didn't think there were many developments that were particularly good for the district.

‘Well, I went over to see the fellow this morning.'

‘And was he agreeable?' she asked.

‘Heavens, no. I didn't even meet him. There was no one about. But I discovered something that could really set the cat among the pigeons, Urs. Just wait until you hear this . . .'

Ursula listened to her boss's tale and wondered exactly what he planned to do with all of this information.

‘So you can imagine just how grateful Finley Spencer will be,' Silas said. ‘But I'd like to do a little bit more research and then I have to decide on the perfect way to tell her. I want her to know just how much trouble I've gone to for this deal.'

Ursula lengthened her stride. As she was quite a bit taller than Silas, he struggled to keep up. ‘But you don't even know if the man is willing to sell the land.'

‘I'm sure Finley will pay him handsomely for it, especially once she knows what's out there,' Silas replied.

But Ursula wasn't so sure. Spencer Industries was a giant company and had a reputation for steamrolling its opposition. The poor man probably didn't have a hope. And as for going to a lot of trouble, it sounded like Silas had stumbled on the information quite by chance.

‘Anyway, Urs, I wanted your advice. Do you think I should telephone Finley and tell her the good news or should I invite her in? Or perhaps I should suggest we meet in private – and then maybe she'll send the helicopter for me.'

Ursula shrugged. How would she know what he should do? ‘Whereabouts is the land?'

Silas attempted a suave raise of his eyebrows. ‘If I told you, Urs, I might have to kill you.'

Ursula rolled her eyes. ‘Really? I don't think that would do your re-election prospects any good.'

‘Well, so long as we're running under the council cone of silence, the land is deep in the woods on the other side of Winchesterfield.'

Ursula coughed and seemed unable to catch her breath.

Silas wondered if she'd finally run out of puff. ‘Would you like to take a break?'

‘I'm fine. Does this place in the woods have a name?' she gasped.

‘Wood End. It's owned by some old-timer. According to the information from Finley, the wife died a few years ago and he won't be far behind her.'

Ursula began to cough again. Her heart was hammering inside her chest and beads of perspiration trickled down her face. She stopped suddenly, leaving Silas a few steps ahead.

He turned and looked at her. ‘Is something wrong?'

Ursula doubled over. ‘Just something in my throat.'

‘Come and sit down.' Silas guided her to a nearby park bench, where she buried her head in her hands. ‘What can I do?' Silas wasn't used to looking after anyone.

‘I'm fine,' Ursula managed to get out between coughs. She gathered herself together and stood up. ‘I think I might head home, if that's all right, sir.'

‘Silas,'
he tutted. ‘Are you sure you can manage on your own?'

Ursula nodded and Silas felt a pang of relief. He didn't want to catch anything.

‘If you're not well in the morning, don't come into the office. And please see the doctor. You know I can't afford to get sick. My schedule doesn't allow for days off, Urs.'

Ursula had to look away. She felt like giving him a clout over his senseless head.

‘I'll see you in the morning.' She set off across the park, not looking back.

Silas set off again too, but at a much slower pace. Ursula hadn't been any help at all, so he still hadn't decided what he'd do about telling Finley Spencer. She would be grateful, very grateful, he was sure. She said herself that people in her industry were richly rewarded. And he was positive that the information he had would make her very pleased indeed.