Alice-Miranda In New York 5 (20 page)

O
n Friday afternoon, Dolly Oliver met Alice-Miranda after school as she had done every day that week.

‘Hello Mrs Oliver.' Alice-Miranda ran down the steps and onto the pavement.

‘Good afternoon, my darling girl.' Dolly enveloped the tiny child in her arms. ‘It seems Millie has finally got around to writing to you.' She retrieved a letter from her handbag and gave it to Alice-Miranda.

‘Oh, thank you for bringing it. I thought they'd forgotten about me.'

Alice-Miranda opened the envelope and unfolded the paper. She scanned its contents, laughing and smiling.

‘It sounds like Millie and Jacinta are getting along
most
of the time,' Alice-Miranda informed Mrs Oliver. ‘Miss Hephzibah and Miss Henrietta are well and the renovations are coming along at Caledonia Manor. Oh no, Bonaparte bit Mr Walt on the bottom when he was leading him out to the paddock. He's a naughty boy,' Alice-Miranda tutted.

She folded the letter and placed it back into the envelope, then stuffed it into her school satchel. She looked up at Dolly and said seriously, ‘I've been thinking about something today.'

Dolly bit her lip. ‘Oh dear, that sounds ominous.'

‘I promise it's not. I was just thinking that I've been so bossy all week telling you where I wanted to go and all the things that I wanted to see and it's been awfully selfish of me not to ask if there's anything you'd like to do,' Alice-Miranda offered.

Dolly smiled down at her young charge. ‘Well, that's very thoughtful, my dear.'

‘Is there?' Alice-Miranda looked at her expectantly. ‘Anything you'd like to do?'

‘Well, as a matter of fact, there is,' Dolly replied. ‘And I think you might like to go there too.'

‘What is it?' Alice-Miranda bubbled.

‘I think I might keep this one a secret until we get there.' Dolly Oliver arched her eyebrow at the child and gave a mysterious smile. Dolly took Alice-Miranda by the hand and the pair headed towards Park Avenue.

‘Are we walking there?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘No dear, it's a little too far for these old legs of mine. I walked from the store to school and that's just about done me in,' Dolly replied. ‘Keep your eyes open for a taxi.'

Standing on the corner of Park and East 75th, Alice-Miranda scanned the oncoming traffic but for once there didn't seem to be a yellow vehicle in sight.

A doorman wearing tails and a top hat stepped out from the awning of the apartment block he stood sentry in front of.

‘Excuse me, miss, ma'am, are you looking for transportation?' he asked.

Alice-Miranda pulled Dolly towards him.

‘Yes, sir,' the child replied.

‘I'm afraid that you might have to wait a while.
It's just on shift change time for the drivers,' the man informed them.

Mrs Oliver frowned.

‘But look,' Alice-Miranda grinned and pointed. ‘There's someone who can take us.'

‘You wanna lift?' The man weaved across two lanes of traffic and pulled up beside the kerb.

Mrs Oliver shook her head. ‘Oh, I don't think so.'

‘Please, Mrs Oliver. Think of it as an adventure,' said Alice-Miranda, tugging on her arm.

‘I don't know.' Dolly's brow puckered and she frowned fiercely.

‘I'm sure that it's perfectly safe – and there's hardly any traffic at the moment – well, for New York, anyway,' Alice-Miranda pointed out. ‘Please.'

Mrs Oliver consulted the silver-haired doorman.

‘What do you think?' she asked.

The man nodded. ‘I've been known to use them every now and then,' he replied.

Alice-Miranda ran towards the contraption and leapt into the carriage. The young man on the bicycle, aware of his elderly passenger's uncertainty, hopped off and assisted Mrs Oliver into the seat.

‘Thank you, young man,' she nodded at him. ‘Now, please take the greatest of care. No lane-
changing and watch your speed.'

Alice-Miranda grabbed hold of Dolly's hand. The pedicab pulled out from the kerb.

‘Ma'am, where would you like to go?' the young man called back.

‘Serendipity 3,' Dolly replied. ‘I believe it's on East . . .'

‘Sixtieth, ma'am between Second and Third. You're in for a treat, little lady,' he said, glancing around at Alice-Miranda, who beamed back at him.

‘Please, keep your eyes on the road, for heaven's sake.' Dolly gripped the edge of the carriage and held on as though her very life depended on it.

‘Scrambled eggs and bacon?' Dolly asked as Alice-Miranda wandered into the kitchen just after 8 am on Saturday morning.

‘Yes please, although I think my tummy is still full from that delicious food yesterday afternoon. I couldn't believe that's where you wanted to go in the whole of the city.' Alice-Miranda walked up behind the older woman and put her arms around her waist.

‘Well dear, you know food and inventing are my passions so I was keen to see what all that fuss about frozen hot chocolate was,' Dolly replied. ‘And now I know.'

‘Has Mummy gone downstairs?' Alice-Miranda opened the refrigerator and retrieved a carton of juice.

‘Yes dear, she's been up for ages. I know there are still a few things worrying her about the opening this evening.'

Alice-Miranda poured herself a glass of orange juice and returned the carton to the fridge.

‘Has she heard from Daddy?' she asked as she sat down at the table.

‘Yes, he should be in sometime early this afternoon, which is a blessed relief.' Dolly Oliver placed a small mound of scrambled eggs alongside two strips of crispy bacon.

‘I think I might see if Mummy and Mr Gruber need any help downstairs,' Alice-Miranda decided. ‘I can't wait to see how everything looks.'

‘Well, dear,' Dolly instructed, ‘just don't get in anyone's way, that's all.'

‘I won't,' Alice-Miranda smiled.

Alice-Miranda rode the lift down from the apartment to the ground floor, where the extravagant cosmetics counters and perfumeries were now stocked with their myriad wares. Several staff members were adding the finishing touches to the displays and Alice-Miranda smiled at them and said hello as she made her way around the floor. She had no idea where her mother would be but decided that if she started at the bottom and made her way up one level at a time she'd probably run into her somewhere. Through a marble archway, Alice-Miranda admired the beauty salon and then through another archway to the left was the handbag department. It all looked perfect, even without the floral arrangements her mother had planned.

The lift bell dinged and Alice-Miranda saw her mother walking out of the carriage. ‘Hello Mummy.'

‘Oh, hello darling,' Cecelia smiled and waved.

Alice-Miranda skipped over to meet her. ‘The store looks amazing.'

‘Yes, I think everything will be fine.' Cecelia ran the fingers of her left hand through her hair. ‘Have you had a proper look around yet?

‘No, I've only seen the ground floor but I was planning to take it one level at a time,' Alice-Miranda
replied. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?'

Her mother's telephone rang. Cecelia smiled apologetically at Alice-Miranda before answering it. ‘What's that? No. I explained about that before. I'll be there in a minute.' She rang off. ‘Sorry sweetheart, there's a problem with the change rooms on five. I have to go.' She pushed the button for the lift and the doors slid open. ‘I'll see you later on.' And with that, Cecelia disappeared from sight.

Alice-Miranda trotted up the grand central staircase to the mezzanine level where three men were screwing a fascia board onto the temporary stage area which would play host to the formal celebrations.

She recognised their foreman. ‘Hello Mr George,' Alice-Miranda said as his drill shuddered and whirled.

‘Take that upstairs to five, will you?' George said to the other men, while pointing at a long piece of timber lying on the ground beside the stage. ‘See what she's bleating about this time.' The men nodded and quickly disappeared.

‘The store looks beautiful,' Alice-Miranda said, wondering if he hadn't heard her say hello. ‘I'm so glad that everything has come together for Mummy.
She's been terribly worried, you know.'

‘She's had good reason to be,' George smirked. ‘All those little hiccups, driving her crazy.'

Over the past few weeks, Alice-Miranda had seen George working in the store on several occasions and had always given him a wave or a smile but she realised that up until now she'd never actually had a proper conversation with him.

‘Well, there have been a lot of strange things happening,' Alice-Miranda commented.

‘Right under her nose,' George said.

Alice-Miranda studied his face, searching for clues. ‘Do you know something?'

‘No. Why would I?' he snapped.

‘I wasn't accusing,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘I know you've had so many problems to sort out and you've been working such long hours.'

‘You don't know the half of it,' George mumbled to himself. ‘But the pay's been good.'

‘What did you say, Mr George?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘Nothing.' He shook his head.

‘Well, I'll see you tonight at the gala,' Alice-Miranda smiled.

‘Yeah, I wouldn't want to miss it. I think it's really gonna
go off
.' He stared past her as if lost in his thoughts.

Alice-Miranda hadn't enjoyed her conversation with Mr George at all. In fact there was something about him and what he said that gave her a very strange feeling indeed.

'I
m not going to the stupid salon today, Mama, or any other day.' Lucinda refused to budge from her bed.

‘Please Lucinda,' Gerda begged. ‘If not for your father, for me.'

‘Not until you tell Papa about Louisa.' Lucinda rolled over and looked her mother in the eye.

‘But Lucinda, what's the point. Louisa is sick and your father will be so mad that we went to visit her.'

‘I hope I'm never as weak as you,' Lucinda spat.

Gerda felt hot with shame.

She walked to Lucinda's wardrobe and pulled out the particularly beautiful white dress her father had brought home the evening before.

Lucinda sat up in bed. She watched her mother hang the dress on the handle of the tall chest. Gerda was a proud woman but at that moment she looked utterly defeated.

‘Lucinda, today is the opening of the new salon. We must be there together as a family. Your brothers are dressed. Your father is ready. We cannot leave you at home,' her mother begged.

‘All right, I'll go, as long as you tell Papa that I am going back to school on Monday and you are going to see Louisa as often as you want.' Lucinda hopped out of bed and walked across the floor towards her mother.

Gerda was tired of the fighting. ‘I will,' she said, pulling her daughter in close and stroking the top of her head.

‘He's a horrible person, Mama.' Lucinda stared up at her mother's brown eyes.

‘No, he's just a proud man,' Gerda replied.

‘He's been making trouble for the Hightons.' Lucinda took a step away.

‘That's a terrible thing to say, Lucinda. Why do
you think that?'

Lucinda shrugged. ‘Because he has.'

‘Don't tell lies about your father – he's not a bad man.' Gerda turned and left the room.

But Lucinda had proof. That morning, knowing her father had gone out, Lucinda had crept into his study. She didn't know what she was looking for or if she would find anything at all but it didn't take long to uncover her father's dirty secrets. In a notebook was a list of names and lots of large numbers with dollar signs. She was sure that her father was paying people to make trouble for Alice-Miranda's family. Lucinda had to get to Alice-Miranda and tell her what was going on. She just had to work out how.

The limousine ride from Fifth Avenue to Park may as well have been from Manhattan to the moon. Minutes passed like hours. Zeke and Toby would usually have been teasing their sister and joking around but this afternoon even they weren't in the mood. As the car pulled up in front of the store, paparazzi surrounded the vehicle.

‘Here we are, family. Smile for the cameras.
Remember, we are Finkelsteins and proud of that fact.' Morrie reached over and grabbed Gerda's hand and together they led the way through the crowd.

The salon was magnificent. In the tradition of the Palace of Versailles, Morrie had flown in the finest European craftsmen to complete his vision. The smaller rooms would play host to their usual tea parties but Morrie was certain that the grand ballroom would be the venue of choice for weddings, birthdays, anniversaries and any other significant occasions this side of the Hudson River.

‘I just want to say thank you, friends, for being here this afternoon to celebrate this milestone in Finkelstein history. Our Grand Salon is without doubt the finest establishment in New York City and I suspect in the whole of the United States of America,' declared Morrie. He stood in front of the microphone like a peacock.

‘My apologies for moving the party forward a few hours. It is in deference to our good friends over on Fifth Avenue; I was horrified to think that we might clash with their grand reopening. And you know I hate to miss a party.'

Lucinda couldn't believe what she'd just heard.
Her father was making the most awful spectacle of himself.

‘So please, everyone, make yourselves at home.' Morrie smiled like a fox with a free pass to the hen house.

Lucinda watched her father leave the stage and move from group to group. The Barringtons, the Daytons, the Schwarzkopfs, they were all there, lapping up his charm.

‘Excuse me, Papa.' Lucinda tapped Morrie on the shoulder. ‘Did you really say that you and Mama are going to the opening of Highton's this evening?'

‘Of course, darling, we always support our friends in this city.' Morrie smiled at his daughter and at Bernadette and Bob Barrington, who were standing beside him.

‘But you hate Cecelia Highton-Smith,' Lucinda spat. She could feel a flame-red rash creeping up her neck, setting fire to her cheeks.

‘Lucinda, don't be ridiculous. Morrie Finkelstein doesn't hate anyone,' her father scoffed.

‘Yes, you do. You pulled me out of school because I made friends with Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones, you caused so much trouble for them and now you're going to the opening. How
dare you?' Lucinda accused.

Gerda Finkelstein had been watching the exchange from a distance while Rita Schwarzkopf told her about her daughter's latest astonishing achievements.

‘Excuse me, Rita, I've got to go.' Gerda raced across the floor and stood between her husband and daughter.

‘Tell him, Mama. Tell Papa where we went this week,' Lucinda demanded.

‘Lucinda, please calm down. This is not the time or place.' Gerda's forehead puckered like rows of cross-stitch.

Morrie frowned.

‘Of course it's not the time or place. It never will be. You're a hypocrite, Papa, you're disgusting and I'm ashamed to be related to you,' Lucinda shouted. Everyone in the ballroom froze.

Even the orchestra fell silent.

‘Lucinda Finkelstein, I will not be spoken to in that manner,' Morrie whispered. ‘I think you need to come with me, young lady.' He grabbed her by the wrist.

Morrie led Lucinda from the ballroom to a small office where he directed her to sit down.

‘Don't you ever speak to me like that again,'
he fumed.

‘Or what? You'll send me to boarding school? I'd love that,' Lucinda retaliated.

A telephone rang in Morrie's pocket.

He pulled the device out and stared at the screen.

‘Oh, for goodness sakes, what now?' He stormed out of the room and slammed the door.

Lucinda watched her father through a glass panel as he stood in the hallway. His face was red and whoever was on the telephone only seemed to be adding to his already foul mood. She stood up and opened the door to listen.

‘You can't do that,' Morrie whispered savagely. ‘It wasn't part of the plan and I'm not paying you any more money. You've done your job. No more.'

Lucinda wondered who he was speaking to.

‘But that would make me a monster.' Morrie rubbed the side of his face. ‘Don't threaten me. You don't know who you're dealing with. There will be no bomb, you idiot.'

Lucinda's heart pounded. She closed the door and retreated back inside the office. Her father terminated the call and stormed off down the hallway.

Lucinda waited a minute, then checked to
see that he had really gone. She needed to get to Highton's and fast – if someone was planting a bomb then hundreds of lives were in danger, including her best friend's.