Alice-Miranda Shines Bright 8 (4 page)

 

C
onstable Derby's police car came to a halt outside Mrs Parker's bungalow. He had been as surprised as anyone to learn that Reginald Parker was missing. Surely the old fellow couldn't have got too far.

‘Hello Constable Derby,' Alice-Miranda called from the veranda. ‘Mrs Parker's inside.'

‘Hello Alice-Miranda,' he called back.

Constable Derby trotted up the stairs and followed the girl into the house.

‘Well, it's about time,' Myrtle growled as she looked up from the steaming cup of chamomile tea that Ambrosia Headlington-Bear had just made for her. Alice-Miranda and Millie had alerted Ambrosia to Mr Parker's disappearance when they set off to look for him. She had immediately gone to see if Mrs Parker was all right. Together the women had searched the back garden and the shed and every room in the house without any luck at all. Nurse Raylene's disappearance was just as perplexing. When the children returned without Mr Parker, Ambrosia called the police.

The constable ignored Myrtle's tone, sat down opposite her at the table and took out his notebook.

‘Make yourself at home, constable.' Myrtle turned and glared at Ambrosia, who was still standing near the kettle. ‘Well?'

Ambrosia frowned, wondering what she'd done wrong now.

‘Aren't you going to offer the man a cup of tea?' Mrs Parker sniped.

‘Oh, of course. Would you like one?' Ambrosia looked at Constable Derby.

He shook his head and said a quiet, ‘No, thank you'.

An uneasy silence shrouded the room.

Constable Derby coughed and said, ‘Uh, Mrs Parker, when was the last time you saw Mr Parker?'

The woman set the teacup down and tapped a forefinger to her lip. ‘Now, let me see. I had a very busy morning. I baked some shortbread to take over to the Fayle sisters tomorrow and then I did a load of washing. I gave my bedroom a thorough dusting and had a quick bite of lunch. Then I popped out to do some errands.'

‘Did you see Mr Parker anytime this morning?' the constable asked.

‘I popped my head in the door and said hello before I made my breakfast,' she said.

‘But did you actually
see
him?'

‘Of course I did.' Myrtle took another sip of her tea. But the more she thought about it the less sure she was.

‘Mrs Headlington-Bear, you mentioned on the telephone that Mr Parker's nurse is missing too. Is that right?'

Ambrosia nodded. She'd checked the woman's room. There were still clothes in the wardrobe. And of course there was the abandoned knitting on the couch in the sitting room too. But Raylene's toiletries bag was gone.

‘It's her,' Myrtle sniffed. ‘She's been filling his head with all sorts of ideas. I've heard her talking about the world and all the wonderful places she's visited. She's run off with him.'

‘But Mrs Parker, do you really think that's likely, given that your husband has been asleep for three years?' the constable asked.

‘He's been in a coma, thank you very much,' Myrtle said. ‘Reginald hasn't just been taking a nap, you know.'

‘Yes, of course, I didn't mean to offend.' The officer decided to change tack. ‘Do you remember the last time you saw Nurse Raylene?'

‘I saw her this morning at breakfast time. She was sitting right where you are now, and she didn't stop talking the whole time. I thought my head was going to explode with all the drivel that came out of that woman's mouth.'

‘What did she talk about?' the policeman asked.

‘I don't remember,' Myrtle said crossly.

‘But surely you can remember little bits of what Nurse Raylene said,' Alice-Miranda suggested. ‘I had a lovely conversation with her about her family the last time I visited Mr Parker –'

Myrtle cut the child off. ‘Well, she never mentioned any family to me.'

Constable Derby looked towards Alice-Miranda, who was standing on the other side of the table. ‘Do you remember what she said about her family?'

Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘Her father hadn't been at all well and she was hoping to visit him soon.'

‘Did she say where he was?'

‘I'm afraid not. Our conversation ended when Mrs Parker arrived home and needed some help carrying something from the car.'

‘That's a pity then.' The constable glared at the old woman. ‘Do you know where her family is from, Mrs Parker?'

‘Of course not. It's not in my nature to pry into other people's personal business,' Myrtle tutted.

Millie could hardly keep a straight face. Nosey Parker didn't get that name for nothing. She knew more about the people who lived in the village than anyone, and she didn't mind sharing her information either.

Myrtle noticed her fidgeting. ‘What's the matter with you, Millicent? Do you need the toilet? It's along the hall, but make sure that you flush and put the lid down.'

‘I don't need to go to the toilet!' Millie protested. Sloane giggled and Millie gave her a death stare.

‘Constable Derby, do you think we should be out searching for Mr Parker?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘We'll get to that soon, Alice-Miranda. It's important to establish just how long Mr Parker and Nurse Raylene have been missing.'

‘Quite long enough,' Myrtle snapped. ‘The child's right. Get the search teams together. Call in the sniffer dogs. Put out an ABC.'

‘What's that?' Sloane asked.

‘I think Mrs Parker means an APB,' Millie said.

‘Well, what's that?' Sloane asked again.

‘It means all-points bulletin. They say it all the time on American television shows when they're looking for the bad guys.'

Myrtle Parker wasn't feeling at all well. ‘I think I need to lie down.'

Ambrosia Headlington-Bear offered to help her to her room and the pair disappeared down the hallway.

‘What do we do now?' Alice-Miranda asked the constable.

‘I'm going to alert the detectives in Downs­fordvale. But with a few hours' head start, I'm afraid Reginald and Raylene could be anywhere.'

‘Do you really think he's with Nurse Raylene?' Jacinta asked. ‘Sounds weird to me. He didn't even know her – he was asleep.'

Sloane's eyes widened. ‘But what if he wasn't?'

‘Of course he was,' Millie said. ‘We all saw him in there, on the bed.'

‘But what if he was faking it and was awake, and then when Mrs Parker was out, Nurse Raylene and Mr Parker made a plan to get away,' Sloane prattled.

‘Seriously, you've been watching too much TV,' Millie said. ‘That's a stupid idea.'

Constable Derby was furiously scribbling away. He looked up from his notepad and smiled at Sloane. ‘That wouldn't be the strangest thing I've ever heard.'

‘See?' She poked her tongue out at Millie.

Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘I've been reading to Mr Parker every week for a little while now and I really don't see how he could have been awake and just pretending to sleep. I mean, last time I was here I read a really funny part of
Matilda
and I couldn't stop myself from laughing out loud.'

‘But you said that you could have sworn you saw him smile a couple of times,' Sloane insisted. She was feeling very smug about her theory.

Alice-Miranda thought about it. She
had
said that. If Mr Parker had been awake all this time then why hadn't he just said so? And he took his food through a tube – she was quite sure that if he'd been awake he would love to have had something more substantial to eat.

Millie must have been thinking the same thing. ‘But Mr Parker was hooked up to all that equipment.'

‘How do you know that he was really hooked up?' Sloane asked. She'd recently started reading a detective series and was enjoying channelling its heroine. ‘Did you ever see the needle in his arm or was there a plaster over it?'

Millie hated to admit it but Sloane was right. They couldn't know for sure without asking Nurse Raylene, and she seemed to be well and truly gone.

Alice-Miranda had a strange feeling that there was more to Mr Parker's disappearance than anyone knew.

‘I still think we should get a search party together and have a proper look around the village and in the woods,' Alice-Miranda suggested. It's light for another few hours. Please let us help, Constable Derby.'

‘I'll phone the details into headquarters first, and then how about you girls go back to school and see who you can get together?'

‘What about Wally Whitstable and the fellows over at Chesterfield Downs?' Millie suggested.

‘And Mr Munz and Otto at the store? Surely they could help?' Alice-Miranda said.

‘What about the boys? There's a whole school of them on the other side of the village,' Jacinta announced.

‘You just want to see your boyfriend,' Sloane teased.

Jacinta opened her mouth but Alice-Miranda got in first.

‘Please, Jacinta, Sloane, this is no time to argue.'

‘Yeah, get over it, Sloane. Seriously, who cares if they like each other?' Millie added.

Jacinta wrinkled her nose at Sloane.

Ambrosia Headlington-Bear reappeared in the kitchen. ‘What else can we do to help?' she asked.

‘I'm heading back to the station, but if it's all right with you, Mrs Headlington-Bear, perhaps the girls could see who they can round up and we'll meet at the showground in half an hour. I think we're clutching at straws a little but the poor old boy has to be out there somewhere,' the constable explained.

‘What do you want me to do?' Ambrosia asked.

‘I think you should stay here with Mrs Parker. She shouldn't be alone.'

‘And then you'll be here if Mr Parker or Nurse Raylene comes back,' said Alice-Miranda.

But at that moment none of the group thought that was very likely. It seemed that Reginald Parker had indeed made a run for it.

 

 

S
tan Frost glanced at the clock above the doorway. It was almost time to put his dinner on; he made a mental note then looked over at the table.

‘You still haven't told me where you've been,' he said.

‘Home, of course,' replied the other man, who was sitting at the table. He swivelled around and patted his knee. Maudie was the first to jump out of her bed near the back door and onto his lap. ‘Sorry Itch, you miss out this time.' The little tan cocker spaniel lapped up the man's attention. Itch opened one eye and closed it again.

‘But that doesn't explain anything,' Stan insisted. At that moment, he wished he'd remembered to pay that last phone bill. The lack of a working telephone hadn't worried him until now.

He placed two cups of tea on the pine table.

‘Have you got anything to eat?' the fellow asked.

Stan opened the biscuit tin. It was full of choc­olate digestives. They were one of the few items Stan ordered in these days. He'd just leave a note and the money in the letterbox for the postman, and whatever he needed would appear a couple of days later. It wasn't that Stan didn't like having guests; he simply didn't encourage them, and since Beryl had gone, it was easier to keep to himself.

‘I dreamt about it last night. I know where it is.' The man sipped his tea and took a bite out of the biscuit.

‘About what? No, never mind. What I really want to know, Reg, is where have you been? And what about Myrtle?'

The man frowned. ‘Myrtle?' He looked confused for a moment, as if teetering on the edge of a memory. ‘Oh, she's gone.'

‘I'm very sorry to hear it,' Stan replied.

Reg looked up. ‘Where's Beryl, then?' It was as if talk of Myrtle had suddenly brought something back to him.

Stan cast his eyes downward. ‘She's gone too,' he replied.

‘Probably gone together,' Reg smiled absently.

Stan's stomach lurched. He hadn't seen Reginald Parker for three years and now he turned up as if he'd been here just yesterday. Stan wondered if living with Myrtle all those years had knocked the sensitivity right out of the silly old fool. Surely he'd heard that Beryl had died. The funeral had been a private affair: just the priest, Maudie, Itch and Stan, exactly as Beryl had requested. No family, no added complications. Even so, word got around the village and Stan had been surprised to find several casseroles and cakes left on the doorstop at the house. Reg must have known.

Stan spoke again. ‘What did you do to your arm?' He pointed at the sticking plaster covering Reg's wrist.

He looked at it and shrugged. ‘I don't know.' Reg drank his tea, savouring every last drop. ‘Geez, these biscuits are delicious,' he enthused, reaching out to take another.

‘You never liked them much before.' Stan watched as Reg devoured at least six of them. ‘Haven't you eaten today?'

Little did Stan know that Reginald Parker hadn't eaten a piece of solid food in years.

Reginald gave Maudie a gentle prod and she leapt down from his lap. He walked to the sink, rinsed out his teacup, and looked expectantly at Stan. ‘Well, come on then, we should get out there.'

‘Out where?' said Stan.

‘What's wrong with you, Stanley Frost? Have you forgotten that we're on the verge of making a huge discovery? We'll be famous the length and breadth of the county. If we tell anyone, that is. I'd rather we kept it to ourselves for now. Anyway, I dreamt where we'll find it.'

The penny suddenly dropped. ‘I haven't been up there in years,' Stan whispered.

‘What do you mean, Stan? We were there yesterday and the day before that and the day before that.'

Stan Frost shook his head. Something had happened to his friend. Something terrible. He needed to get to the village and let someone know. Reginald Parker had gone mad. Or Myrtle had driven him to it. The last time he'd seen Reg, he said that he had to get home and clean out the gutters because Myrtle would be back soon and she'd have his guts for garters if it wasn't done. Stan hadn't seen the old girl in years but he'd suffered often enough at her hands to know that Reg probably wasn't kidding. He waited the next day for him to reappear. And the day after that. He'd telephoned the house several times but there was no answer. And then a week passed and a month. He'd wanted to go into the village to look for him but Beryl was insistent. There was never any good to come out of his friendship with Reg Parker, she said. Just leave things alone.

And so he had, until he made one last call just before Beryl got sick. Myrtle had answered and when Stan asked to speak to Reg, she replied tartly that Mr Parker wasn't in the business of speaking with anyone these days and promptly hung up the phone. She hadn't asked who it was and Stan didn't say. So that was that. Beryl's illness and sudden death had knocked Stan sideways. Afterwards, he just puddled along on his own with the animals and his memories to keep him company. But why had Reg come back after all this time, and why did he think he'd been there the day before?

‘We need to go to the village,' Stan said, wishing he'd kept up a bit more maintenance on the old Cortina in the shed and the bridge over the stream. He hadn't turned the engine over in more than a year. If they were to go anywhere it would be on foot.

‘Bah, I'm not going to the village. Come on, Stan. We've got work to do. Let's get outside and have a look. You won't be sorry.'

But Stan found that hard to believe. Reg walked over to the back door and grabbed the large torch that hung by a strap from the old hat stand. ‘What are you waiting for? An invitation?'

Stan walked over to join him.

‘That's the spirit. You wait, Stan. This is it. The big one. I can feel it in my bones.' Reg Parker walked out the door and into the back garden. He turned to look at his friend. ‘And Stan, I think I might stay here tonight, if that's all right with you.'

Stan shrugged. He wondered how many more surprises there could possibly be before nightfall.