Alice-Miranda Shows the Way (21 page)

‘What?' Millie was shocked.

‘Think about it, Millie. What colour are his eyes?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘They're that weird amber cat colour.
Oh
,' she said, nodding. ‘Just like Fern and Tarquin.'

‘Alf married their mother and then she died and the carnival was meant to be in trust for them until Billy was old enough to take over. But he knew what Alf was up to – except that Alf blamed Billy for being a thief. He accused Billy of stealing the takings from one of their show weekends. He even had photographs which Billy said were completely set up. But the others all took Alf's side, so Billy ran away and he's been working out how to get back there and make things right ever since.'

‘That's terrible,' Millie said. ‘Poor Fern.'

‘We need to get moving. Constable Derby has to catch Alf with the goods, otherwise there's no way to prove it was him.' Alice-Miranda jumped
down from Stumps's back and pulled the reins over his head. ‘You go to the manor. I'll tie Stumps up here and head down to the stables.'

‘Be careful,' Millie said. ‘Don't do anything crazy, okay?'

Alice-Miranda smiled. ‘I promise.'

‘M
iss Hephzibah,' Millie called as she raced along the veranda. She'd hitched Chops to the colonnade on the lower lawn and bolted to the house.

‘I'm in here, dear,' Hephzibah called.

Millie flung open the screen door.

‘Well, good morning. I was just making some tea.' Hephzibah, in her dressing-gown and slippers, was filling the kettle at the sink. ‘You're out early,' she said, glancing at the clock. ‘Actually, perhaps we've had a bit of a late start. That ball last night
really took it out of me.' It was now almost half past ten.

‘Miss Hephzibah, I need to use the telephone, please,' Millie explained. ‘It's important.'

‘Of course, dear. Is everything all right?'

‘I need to call Constable Derby.' Millie ran to the telephone in the hall just beyond the kitchen.

‘Constable Derby!' Hephzibah repeated, following Millie. ‘Whatever's the matter?'

Millie rang through to the police station.

‘Come on, come on, pick up,' she whispered into the receiver. ‘Oh hello, Mrs Derby, it's Millie, is Constable Derby there? I need you to get a message to him right away . . .'

Alice-Miranda crept along the fence line towards the decrepit stable block, ducked through the mouldy brick archway and tried to make herself invisible against a stone wall. She watched the entrance of the building for a couple of minutes but all was quiet. Just as she was about to make her way across the open courtyard, she heard the rattling drone of an engine approaching. Alice-Miranda peeked around
the wall and saw a battered grey Land Rover turn into the driveway and head straight for the stables. She slipped between the rails and crouched down behind an old stone water trough. The four-wheel drive clattered to a halt in front of the building.

Alice-Miranda peered around the edge of the trough. Someone got out of the car but from her hiding spot she could see only their trousered legs.

‘So, my little lovelies, what treasures did you find for Alfie last night?' he said to himself.

Alice-Miranda listened to Alf's footsteps on the cobbles. The stable door groaned as he pulled it open and then closed it behind him.

Alice-Miranda hoped Constable Derby would be along soon. She wondered how she was going to keep Alf there if he decided to leave. Then she had an idea. She slipped back through the fence and scurried across the courtyard to the car. She pulled herself up on the door handle and saw exactly what she was hoping for. The driver's window was down and the key was still in the ignition. Alice-Miranda reached in and held her breath as she pulled the key from the slot. She jumped back down to the ground as softly as she could and hid the key under the water trough. Then she crept to the doorway and listened.

Through a missing panel in the door, she could see the top of Alf's ginger crop. He was standing in one of the stalls, inspecting the stolen merchandise and commenting on each new discovery.

‘That's a spanking set of power tools. Yes, I do like a little haul of electrical goods. Mmm, what's this then, jewellery? Lovely. You'll bring a pretty penny down the pub. And my little gnome friend – so glad you're back, son. We can have some lovely adventures this year, and keep your old mum guessing all over again.'

Alf walked out of the stall and further into the building. ‘What's this!' he exclaimed.

An explosive whinny punctured the air and Alice-Miranda fell backwards. She scrambled back to her feet, hoping the sound of the pony had masked her tripping on the cobbles.

She knew that voice. It was Bonaparte for sure.

‘Feisty little one, aren't you? Well, I'll have to find a new market but you'll bring a pretty penny.'

Alice-Miranda heard the rustle of cloth, then the sound of a pony's teeth snapping.

‘Ow! You little monster. I'll teach you to bite old Alfie!'

Alice-Miranda heard some shuffling, then the sound of a horse whip split the air.

‘No!' She squeezed through the broken panel and ran towards Alf. ‘Don't hurt him!' she yelled.

On hearing his mistress's voice, Bonaparte reared up and smashed his front legs through the rotten stall door, which disintegrated under his weight.

Alf turned to face the tiny intruder.

‘What are you doing here, you little snoop?' he roared. ‘I'll give you a walloping as well.'

Alf charged forward and slashed at the child with the whip.
Voomp, voomp,
it cut through the stale air.

‘Bonaparte!' Alice-Miranda yelled. The pony burst out of the stall and charged at Alf, sending the old man flying. Alf didn't know what hit him as he thudded onto the cobblestone floor.

‘Why, you . . .' Alf pushed himself back to his feet. Bonaparte spun around and ran towards the man, rearing up, his forelegs punching forward like a boxer's arms. Alf took several steps backwards. He was cornered in the old feed room. The enormous timber hoppers sat open, their oats and barley mostly gone. Beside them a huge vat of molasses contained a treasure trove of fossilised bugs.

Alf stood his ground but Bonaparte could sense victory. As the ginger-bearded man struck out for
the last time, Bonaparte surged forward. With arms rotating like windmills, Alf lost his balance and fell backwards into the sticky trap.

‘Ahhh!' he yelled. ‘Get me out of here.' But he was stuck fast, the ancient molasses clawing at his backside, dragging his bare arms down into its gummy clutches.

Outside, a police siren wailed. Alice-Miranda heard the car screech to a halt and within seconds Constable Derby, Billy Boots and Fern were inside the building.

‘Alice-Miranda!' Constable Derby called.

‘I'm here!' She stood up and the policeman rushed towards her with Billy and Fern close behind.

Fern raced forward and hugged Alice-Miranda. ‘I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to get caught up in all of this.'

‘Are you all right?' Alice-Miranda asked. She noticed that the bandage was gone from Fern's arm.

‘I'm fine. It's better. I wanted to tell you what was going on the other day when I saw you at the caravans but I couldn't.' Fern's eyes filled with tears. ‘It was too dangerous.'

Alice-Miranda smiled at her friend. ‘It's all right.
Billy explained everything. It sounds like you've been living with a monster.'

‘Who's Billy?' Fern asked.

‘Your brother,' Alice-Miranda replied.

‘His name's not Billy. It's Liam,' said Fern, confused. Alice-Miranda was too.

‘I'll explain later. Where's Alf?' Billy asked, his amber eyes shining in the half-light.

Alice-Miranda pointed at the feed room. ‘He's in there.'

Billy and the constable skittered to the door and poked their heads inside.

‘What's all this?' Constable Derby exclaimed.

Alf was wedged in the old drum, wriggling and squirming and slowly sinking further into the tacky goo. Bonaparte was standing over him, jabbing his nose into the old man's belly and pushing him further down.

‘Got yourself into a bit of a sticky situation there, Alf,' Billy chortled.

‘You'll keep,' Alf griped. ‘Just get me out of here.'

‘Must have something to do with your sticky fingers,' Constable Derby couldn't help but chime in.

He and Billy laughed.

Billy turned and grinned at Alice-Miranda. ‘You're a hero, miss.'

The child shook her head. ‘Not me. It was all Bonaparte's doing. He's the one you should thank.'

‘But how?' Constable Derby looked at the broken timber on the floor.

‘Bonaparte caught him.' Alice-Miranda grabbed an ancient lead rope from a hook on the wall and clipped it on Bony's halter. Then she wrapped her arms around the pony's neck and gave him a tight squeeze. ‘He broke down the door and didn't stop until Mr Alf was well and truly stuck. The stolen goods are in there.' Alice-Miranda pointed at the end stall.

‘But what was Bonaparte doing here in the first place?' Constable Derby asked. ‘Did they steal him too?'

‘I don't know. But I'm glad that he was.' Alice-Miranda glanced at her watch. ‘Oh no! I've got to get him to the racetrack. The Queen's Cup starts soon.'

The sound of hooves on cobbles signified the arrival of Millie and Chops. The girl abandoned the pony and raced inside.

‘I heard the siren,' she puffed. ‘Huh? What's Bony doing here?'

Alice-Miranda shrugged. ‘I don't know but I have to get him to the racetrack or Rockstar doesn't stand a chance.'

‘You'd better get going then,' s Fern.

‘Don't worry about old Alf here. We'll take care of him. Just go,' Constable Derby commanded.

‘Come on,' Millie said. ‘Bony's not saddled up, so you'd better double on Chops with me and hold Bony's lead. We should be able to make it.'

Alice-Miranda ran Bonaparte down the centre of the stables. She turned and looked at Constable Derby. ‘Oh, if you're looking for the key to Alf's car, it's under the trough,' she said.

Millie leapt onto Chops's back and hauled Alice-Miranda up behind her.

‘It's going to be a bumpy ride,' Millie told her friend. ‘Hang on. Come on, Chops, let's go!'

E
velyn Pepper had put off loading Rockstar onto the truck until as late as she possibly could. She'd been trying to calm the cranky beast for hours but no amount of brushing and stroking and blowing in his nostrils seemed to work. He was in a right foul mood. She'd been woken around half past four that morning with her champion whinnying at the top of his lungs. When she hobbled to the stables, she discovered the reason for his bellowing. Bonaparte was gone.

At least Wally Whitstable could manage the giant for her – he wasn't afraid of Rockstar, which in itself was half the battle. Although the horse had always been gentle with Evelyn, she was apprehensive about him lashing out, particularly given her mending hip.

Dick Wigglesworth on the other hand had been nothing but a nuisance all morning.

‘I think you should call Her Majesty and let her know that he's not running,' the old man suggested.

‘Of course he's running,' Evelyn replied. ‘We've just got to get him on the truck and to the track. Bonaparte will turn up. I'm sure of it.'

The colour seemed to drain from Dick's ruddy face. ‘How
can
you be sure?' he asked. ‘There's always next year, you know.'

‘But I want him to run today,' Evelyn said firmly. ‘Wally's been doing a fantastic job with his training. No thanks to you, I hear. Come on, Wally, if Dick won't help then I know you will. We need to get him loaded.'

Freddy backed the truck up outside and Wally led Rockstar to the ramp.

‘He's not usually a bad floater,' said Evelyn. She limped along to the end of the stables, eager to see her boy safely on board.

‘Come on, Rockstar,' Wally whispered. ‘Up we go.'

The lad jogged alongside the thoroughbred to the bottom of the ramp. Rockstar took three steps up; he looked like he was going to get there, then stopped and refused to budge.

Wally tried again. Rockstar stopped again.

‘Miss Pepper, do you remember when he was just a young fella we used to have the radio on in the truck and he seemed to like the music,' Freddy suggested.

‘Oh, you're right, Freddy, and it was always loud rock music. In fact, that was how Her Majesty decided on his name – he was nodding his head in time with the strains of some rock star and Her Majesty thought it was perfect for him. I'd forgotten about that,' said Evelyn, smiling at the lad. ‘Go on, then, crank up the radio.'

It was certainly unconventional but worth a try.

Dick Wigglesworth objected. ‘You'll upset the rest of the stable.'

‘I don't care at the moment, Dick. If playing some loud music means Rockstar gets on board that truck then that's exactly what I'm going to do.'

Evelyn wondered if the Dick Wigglesworth she knew had recently been abducted by aliens. Because this one was a right pain in the neck.

Freddy flicked on the radio. Thumping bass blared out.

‘Okay, Wally, try again,' Evelyn said as the lad led Rockstar around in a circle. The stallion was pumping his head up and down and he was dancing all over the place.

‘Look at him. I think he likes it.' Freddy had a grin as wide as his whole face.

Dick Wigglesworth had disappeared.

‘Come on, Wally, let's get him up there,' Evelyn urged.

Rockstar stepped left, then right, he spun around and then like a flash he scooted up the ramp and into the truck.

‘Good boy,' Evelyn cooed.

Wally gave him a pat. Rockstar turned his head and bared his teeth.

‘Oh, I know who you learned that from,' Wally smiled at the horse. ‘She'll find him, don't you worry.'

Chops cantered along, with Alice-Miranda clinging with one hand to Millie's middle and holding Bonaparte's lead rope behind her. ‘We'll come back for you, Stumps,' Alice-Miranda called as they raced past the old boy. They took every shortcut to the village they knew.

The whole community had turned out for the Queen's Cup. Ladies wore their finest hats and gentlemen their smartest suits. No one was going to miss the social event of the year, in spite of the raft of robberies the evening before. It was all anyone was talking about. Miss Grimm and Mr Grump and the girls and staff from Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale were all there, completely oblivious to Alice-Miranda and Millie's adventure. Jacinta and Sloane were sitting in the grandstand with Lucas and Sep, wondering why Alice-Miranda and Millie were taking so long to join them. After Alice-Miranda had raced off that morning, Mr Boots had told Mrs Howard the whole story and they agreed that it might do more harm than good to make a fuss if Bonaparte's disappearance was tied up with Alf and the robberies. As far as Miss Grimm understood, Alice-Miranda and Millie had gone to Chesterfield Downs to help Bonaparte get
ready for the day. Mrs Howard had been relieved to take a call from Hephzibah Fayle letting her know that the culprit had been found, Bonaparte was safe and Alice-Miranda and Millie were on their way.

Evelyn Pepper was making her way from the mounting yard to the small grandstand. She knew Her Majesty would be disappointed that they had no hope of winning. In spite of getting safely to the track, Rockstar was now being more difficult than ever, having taken a chunk out of Wally's arm and given his jockey Diego Dominguez a nasty kick on the backside. Worse than that, he seemed to have lost any spark and was now behaving more like a cranky old mule than a champion thoroughbred. Evelyn hardly dared hope that he would run. Aunty Gee was watching her champion through a pair of binoculars. Dick Wigglesworth was standing beside her, and seemed to be in a bit of a sulk.

Evelyn Pepper took her place beside the Queen.

‘Are you all right, Evelyn?' Her Majesty asked.

The woman nodded. Her hip was throbbing and she felt as if her head could explode but at least she was here and so was Rockstar.

‘Don't overdo it, dear. I'd hate for you to end up back in that wretched hospital.' Aunty Gee picked
up her binoculars and scanned the track. ‘Can you see what that is?' She passed the binoculars to Evelyn.

‘Oh my goodness, is it really?' she gasped.

As the girls emerged from the woods on the far side of the racetrack, Alice-Miranda could see the horses jogging towards the barrier. She leapt down from Chops's back, and with Bonaparte beside her, ran faster around the edge of the track than she had ever run before.

Miss Grimm, resplendent in a stunning pink suit and a wide-brimmed hat, caught sight of Alice-Miranda and her pony.

‘What on earth?' She nudged her husband. ‘I thought she would have been here already.'

‘Rockstar!' the tiny child yelled. ‘Rockstar, Bonaparte's here!'

Bonaparte let out an explosive whinny that silenced the crowd.

Rockstar, who was being most uncooperative for his jockey, stopped in his tracks and refused to enter the barrier for the second time.

He whinnied loudly in reply. Bonaparte called
back again and the two of them echoed one another, each whinny louder than the one before.

Alice-Miranda reached the public area in front of the winning post. Bonaparte hadn't taken his eyes off the start line on the other side of the track. The whole crowd was staring at her and the black pony.

‘Whatever is that child up to now?' Myrtle Parker frowned. She'd had a lie down and was feeling much better. In fact, her spirits had soared on arriving at the racetrack, where she bumped into Queen Georgiana, who congratulated her on a superb show, and asked if Myrtle would like to join her luncheon party.

Diego leaned forward and whispered into the horse's ear, ‘Come on, Rockstar, show us you really are a star.'

The barrier attendant lined Rockstar up for one last attempt at entering the gate before the steward would be compelled to scratch the horse from the race. The stallion danced into the stall and stood impatiently waiting for the bell.

The gates opened and they were off and racing. Rockstar missed the start completely and fell straight to the back of the field.

‘Oh dear,' Aunty Gee whispered as she peered through her binoculars. Evelyn Pepper was following Rockstar's every move. His main rival, a grey champion called Postman, had charged into the lead.

‘Come on, Rockstar, come on, boy,' Evelyn hissed through gritted teeth.

Dick Wigglesworth was strangely silent as he stood on the other side of Her Majesty.

The crowd screamed as Rockstar began to gain ground. He made a charge around the outside and moved into third place, then up to second. Postman was in his sights. The pair rounded the turn and headed for home neck and neck.

Television cameras tracked their every stride and finally, just a nose in front, Rockstar crossed the finish line.

In the stand, Aunty Gee was leaping about like an excited child on Christmas morning. She caught sight of her lady-in-waiting. Mrs Marmalade was sitting demurely on her seat, her gloved hands folded in her lap and her face like stone.

‘Oh for goodness sake, Marmalade, Rockstar's just won the Cup. You are allowed to crack a smile, dear,' Aunty Gee tutted before she leaned over and enveloped Evelyn Pepper. ‘Well done, Ev, well done! You've won them all!'

She even gave Dalton a quick squeeze before turning to Dick Wigglesworth, who leaned in and offered a more restrained congratulation.

‘Have you been taking lessons from Mrs Marmalade on controlling your enthusiasm?' Aunty Gee demanded of the man.

‘No, Your Majesty,' Dick replied.

‘Well, you could be a little happier than that,' she suggested.

Dick looked around the Queen at Evelyn. ‘I suppose she can retire now.'

‘And you can finally ask her to marry you,' Aunty Gee declared and nudged Dick, whose mouth gaped open like a stunned cod's. ‘It's about time, don't you think? You've been sweet on one another for years.'

Evelyn Pepper overheard Her Majesty and blushed.

‘But,' Queen Georgiana leaned in and whispered, ‘I think you owe Evelyn and Alice-Miranda an apology first.'

‘What? How? How did you know?' Dick gulped.

‘In my experience, Mr Wigglesworth, people do very strange things when they're in love. You're fortunate to be surrounded by such resourceful
women. And don't think for a minute that I wouldn't have had you arrested if Rockstar hadn't won that race. I only hope for your sake that Ev's in as forgiving a mood as I am.'

Dick didn't have time to reply as Her Majesty charged off to congratulate her champion.

Rockstar came back to the mounting yard with Diego Dominguez pumping his fist. The crowd cheered even more and Aunty Gee and her entourage made their way towards the dais for the presentation. It was going to be a little strange; she'd never presented herself with a trophy before.

‘Alice-Miranda!' Aunty Gee called as the group greeted Rockstar. ‘Over here, dear.'

Alice-Miranda led Bonaparte through the crowd and into the mounting yard.

Wally Whitstable had hold of Rockstar and was doing his best to get the beautiful silk winner's rug on the horse's back. As Rockstar caught sight of Bonaparte, the giant stallion spun around and whinnied with all his might. The two friends came face to face and Rockstar reached out and rubbed his neck against Bonaparte's. Bonaparte did the same.