Read Alice-Miranda in Paris 7 Online

Authors: Jacqueline Harvey

Tags: #FICTION

Alice-Miranda in Paris 7 (22 page)

‘Yes, I suppose so. Look, I was rather hoping for some advice. I’m planning to ask Miss Reedy if she’d like to accompany me on an evening out on our last night in Paris. I’ve already asked Prof Winterbottom for the time off and he’s agreed. Anyway, you’ve worked with her for a long time. Do you know if she likes opera or would she prefer a candlelight dinner instead?’

Mr Plumpton gulped. He could hardly believe his ears. ‘I . . . I wouldn’t have a clue, Mr Lipp. Miss Reedy’s a very private woman and I have no idea of her preferred tastes. I’m afraid you’ll just have to work that out for yourself. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to ask Miss Grimm something quite urgently.’

Mr Plumpton rushed off towards the head of the line, leaving Harry Lipp walking beside Lucas and Sep. He shrugged and wondered what was so urgent that Plumpy had to run away like a skittish schoolboy.

‘Evening lads,’ he interrupted the boys’ conversation. ‘If you were planning to take a girl out for the night, would you go for the opera, or a candlelight dinner?’

Sep almost choked. ‘Really, sir? Why are you asking us? We’ve never taken girls anywhere.’

Lucas smothered a smile and gave Sep a nudge. ‘Who’s the lucky lady, Mr Lipp?’

‘That you don’t need to know.’ The teacher stalked ahead of them.

‘Seriously, who do you think is about to fall victim to Hairy’s charms?’ Sep asked.

‘Oh, that’s easy. It’s Miss Reedy for sure. Have you seen the way he looks at her?’

‘Poor Miss Reedy. I wonder if someone should warn her,’ Sep said.

Lucas shook his head. ‘Not me. And you shouldn’t say anything either. She might like him, you know. I mean, apart from his outrageous clothes, he’s pretty talented and he can be funny too.’

‘Yeah, especially when he’s wearing that orange leisure suit. He’s hilarious,’ Sep agreed.

Lucas pushed against Sep’s shoulder. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘Yeah, I’m just kidding. Mr Lipp’s a good guy.’

The children arrived back at their hotel to find Jacinta in a much improved state of mind. She told Alice-Miranda and Millie that her mother had been to visit but, as promised, she kept the details of Ambrosia’s mysterious new job to herself.

As they tucked into the pizzas Monsieur Crabbe had ordered for their dinner, the children told Jacinta all about the service and the odd-looking attendees.

‘And Sloane was amazing,’ Millie said and smiled at Jacinta, who’d been allowed back downstairs for dinner. She didn’t tell Miss Grimm she’d already had a very delicious
croque monsieur
earlier.

‘Yeah, I was awesome,’ Sloane agreed.

‘Really?’ Jacinta asked sulkily. To add insult to her throbbing injury she couldn’t believe she’d lost her only solo part in the performance as well as her chance to compete in the upcoming gymnastics championships too.

‘She did sing beautifully,’ Alice-Miranda confirmed. ‘But I’m sure she would rather that you’d been there.’

‘Not really,’ Sloane said.

‘Sloane!’ Millie berated. ‘Did you hear what you just said? Seriously, you weren’t glad that Jacinta hurt herself, were you?’

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ said Sloane. She’d realised she was fast painting herself into a corner. ‘I just meant that it was fun and I really loved it. And I would never have got the chance. Don’t be mad . . .’

‘I’m not mad, Sloane,’ Jacinta said. ‘But you’d better have been awesome.’

‘I was okay,’ Sloane replied. ‘Not as good as you, though – was I, Alice-Miranda?’

‘You were great, Sloane. And Jacinta would have been great if she’d been there,’ Alice-Miranda agreed.

‘Are you two all right?’ Millie looked at the girls, who were munching on their pizza slices.

Jacinta and Sloane looked up.

‘Huh?’

‘Well, usually you’d be fighting by now,’ Millie explained.

‘I don’t fight with people who have broken toes,’ Sloane said, deadpan. ‘It wouldn’t be fair.’

Alice-Miranda giggled. Millie did too. Jacinta and Sloane just stared at each other.

‘What? Can’t we be grown-up sometimes?’ Jacinta nudged Sloane who nudged her right back.

‘You can be grown-up all the time, if it means you stop fighting,’ Millie agreed.

After the chatter had eased, Miss Grimm and Professor Winterbottom outlined the schedule for the following day.

The LaBelle show would start at 11 am but they would need to leave the hotel by nine to walk to the Place Vendôme and have some morning tea before the performance. Mr Lipp and Mr Trout were hoping for another quick rehearsal too, now that all of the seating and decorations would be in place.

‘The adults are going to have a short break for some tea and coffee,’ the professor said. ‘You can either stay down here and chat or go out to the courtyard. We are fortunate to have the whole place to ourselves and I think you can be trusted to do the right thing for half an hour or so.’ The professor glared at Figgy and Rufus as he made the last remark.

Sloane looked around at her friends. ‘What do you want to do?’

‘Let’s go to the courtyard,’ Lucas suggested. ‘Do you feel like some fresh air, Jacinta?’

The girl nodded and Lucas helped her outside, where Monsieur Crabbe was watering the geraniums and Lulu was lazing on the path.


Bonjour
,’ the man greeted the children. ‘Madame Crabbe tells me your performance was spectacular.’

Sep grinned and said, ‘It was fun.’

Jacinta and Lucas sat down on one of the benches closest to the street, while Alice-Miranda and Millie leaned down to give Lulu a scratch. Sep was standing nearby and Sloane was admiring her fingernails and feeling very clever for finding a pale shade of pink nail polish that the headmistress had not yet spotted.

‘Monsieur Crabbe, do you know the family that lives across the road in the townhouse with the black door?’ Sep asked.

The man rubbed his chin. ‘I have seen a man come and go many times. He is small and pointy and wears a beret.’

‘Have you ever seen a woman there?’

‘A woman? No,’ he replied.

‘Have you ever seen a boy there?’ Sep asked. ‘He looks a bit older than us, probably fourteen or fifteen.’

Monsieur Crabbe shook his head. ‘No, never. But there are a lot of vans coming in the day and night, especially this week.’

Sep frowned and went to the gates. Alice-Miranda followed him. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.

‘I went to find Fabien when we got back this afternoon but the woman answered and when I asked for him she just shook her head. But I saw him myself! He was inside, but he made it clear that he didn’t want me to tell her anything more.’

‘That does sound strange,’ said Alice-Miranda. She peered up at the windows, looking for signs of life.

‘Yeah, I suppose sometimes families are weird,’ Sep said. ‘Just look at mine.’ He began to fish around in his pocket.

‘What are you looking for?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

‘This.’ He handed her the button he’d found on the step outside the house with the black door.

Alice-Miranda studied it. ‘I think it’s a G and an F together,’ she said. ‘It’s very pretty. There’s an amazing Italian designer called Giovanni Fernando. Perhaps it’s from one of his designs?’ She went to hand it back to Sep.

‘No, you can keep it,’ he said. ‘I don’t have much use for designer buttons.’

They went back to gazing across the street.

Alice-Miranda wondered what was going on with Fabien. It was all so very odd.

Charlotte scrolled through her emails before finding the one she had been looking for.

‘Rosie Hunter has done it again,’ she called to Cecelia a few minutes later.

‘What has she written about this time?’ her sister called back from her bedroom, where she was getting dressed.

‘One of the smaller shows. It’s a great piece. I just wish I could meet her.’

‘She must be coming to the LaBelle show today. Surely. It’s the hottest ticket in town.’

‘I hope so. It was really kind of you to get tickets for Morrie, by the way,’ Charlotte said as Cecelia walked into the sitting room.

‘Yes, but I’ve had stern words with him about Dux being our exclusive in New York, at least until the collection is larger,’ Cecelia explained.

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. ‘And you think Morrie Finkelstein will abide by that?’

‘Oh, yes. Gerda was there when we talked and she is determined to keep him on the straight and narrow. And besides, Morrie still has several of our former accounts who I encouraged to stay with him – even after they learned what he’d been up to.’ Cecelia tightened the clasp on her watch. ‘Now, breakfast before we head to the show?’

‘Oh yes, I’m starving.’ Charlotte rubbed her belly. ‘I can’t believe how much these little guys want me to eat. You know I said that my pants were just a bit tight. When I went to put them on this morning I couldn’t get the zip up. I think I’m going to be a whale by the time they’re due.’

‘You’ll be the most beautiful whale in the world,’ Cecelia reassured her. ‘Come on, let’s go and see how much of the buffet you can get through.’

Adele sat at her desk, glancing up at the clock every few seconds. Monsieur Fontaine would be leaving soon and then she would have her chance. The man had called again and asked her to deliver the sketches in a large envelope to a hotel on the other side of the city. The name he gave was Monsieur Fontaine – he would collect it from there. She couldn’t believe the cheek of him, impersonating the very man he was stealing from.

It seemed that there was no other way. He promised that once she delivered the sketches, the vicuna would be returned but of course there was no guarantee. If she went to the police, he said, he would make her disappear, and Christian too. He could have been lying but it was not a chance she was prepared to take.

‘Adele?’ said Christian. She looked up. ‘Are you sure that you wouldn’t like to accompany me to the LaBelle show? It might be a welcome distraction.’

‘No, monsieur, I have a lot of work to finish and I’d like to leave a little early if I may?’ she said. She forced herself to smile naturally.

‘Of course. Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘Since the robbery you haven’t seemed yourself at all.’

‘I’m fine, monsieur. Just a little out of sorts, I suppose,’ she replied.

‘Have you heard from the insurance company yet?’ he asked.

‘No, monsieur.’ She looked down at her desk.

‘Please get onto them. I will need that money soon,’ he said. ‘And did you have any luck with the surveillance footage from the buildings across the road?’

Adele’s mouth was dry. The day before, she had realised that several of the shops across the road from the atelier had security cameras mounted on their facades. But so far, none of them were pointing the right way and the one that would have showed their building was broken. Adele had thought that if she could find out who the thief was and lay a trap, maybe she could get the fabric back without stealing Christian’s designs as well.

‘Never mind. The police are investigating. There is still some hope.’

Adele had never felt more hopeless in her life. Not only was she now in cahoots with the thief, she was about to steal from her beloved boss, in the hope that she could get back the fabric that she had forgotten to insure.

Christian took his coat off the peg near the door.

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