Alice-Miranda In New York 5 (5 page)

M
rs Kimmel's School for Girls was one of the oldest in the city. There had been a long line of headmistresses before Jilly Hobbs, who was the sixteenth woman in charge of the revered institution.

A middle-aged man with thinning grey hair and a substantial mid-section welcomed Alice-Miranda and Cecelia at the top of the short flight of steps. A thick black belt held his trousers in place and he wore a blue shirt with an extravagant K embroidered on the pocket.

‘Good morning, ma'am, miss,' he greeted
the pair.

‘Good morning, sir, my name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith Kennington-Jones, and I'm very pleased to meet you.' She held out her hand which the man shook vigorously.

‘Good morning,' Cecelia echoed her daughter, and shook the man's hand too.

He nodded at Cecelia, then kneeled down and grinned at Alice-Miranda.

‘Well, aren't you just as cute as a button. I'm Whip Staples, at your service.'

‘I'm just starting today, Mr Staples. And it's only for a month but I can't wait to meet everyone. School in New York is quite a different adventure to my boarding school back at home. May I ask what you do here?' Alice-Miranda enquired.

‘Well, for a start, please call me Whip – all the girls do – and I guess I look after everything from security to sanitation and a whole lotta things in between.' The man's grey eyes twinkled as he spoke.

‘Do you take care of the garden?' Alice-Miranda asked.

Whip glanced at the window boxes along the front of the building with their bright red geraniums, and at the two square pots of standard
roses that stood guard either side of the front door.

‘Well, I suppose I do,' he smiled. ‘Have to admit, though, it doesn't take me long.'

He held open the door.

‘See you soon, Mr Whip,' said Alice-Miranda.

A small rectangular entrance hall lined on one side with a cabinet full of polished silver trophies opened out into a circular reception area. There were overstuffed antique chairs positioned around the room and a spiral staircase which rose up for at least four floors. A patterned carpet runner in shades of green and blue snaked its way up the middle of the stairs and was held in place by polished brass rods. A sparkling crystal chandelier adorned the lower ceiling and in the centre of the room, way up high at the very top of the building, an enormous K, the same as on Whip's shirt, was replicated in a glass skylight.

Alice-Miranda's jaw dropped open as she took in her surroundings. ‘Oh Mummy, it's so lovely,' she whispered.

A young woman sat behind the reception desk. She greeted the pair warmly and directed Cecelia to sign in.

Alice-Miranda introduced herself in the usual
way and proceeded to ask all manner of things about school. Where the classrooms were and what time they had lunch and where the girls went to play.

‘Sweetheart, you really mustn't ask so many questions,' her mother chided.

‘But Mummy, I only have a month so I need to know everything as soon as possible,' Alice-Miranda buzzed.

The young woman, whose name was Miss Cleary, telephoned through to the headmistress whose office was immediately off the reception area.

‘Miss Hobbs will be right out, ma'am,' Miss Cleary announced. ‘Please take a seat. I'm sure she won't be long.'

‘Look, Mummy,' Alice-Miranda said as the pair sat down on two chairs opposite the reception desk. ‘There's Aunt Jilly.'

Through a large oval-topped glass door with the Kimmel K etched into the centre, Alice-Miranda could see Jilly Hobbs engaged in an animated discussion with three small girls. They were sitting on a couch and she was leaning forward on a chair opposite them, smiling and laughing at whatever it was they were sharing.

‘I love that Aunt Jilly has a glass door on her
office – she must be very welcoming to her students and the staff,' Alice-Miranda observed. ‘I must tell Miss Grimm about that when I get home.'

‘I'm sure Miss Grimm will love hearing about it,' said her mother with a raised eyebrow. Given that Ophelia Grimm had only recently come out of ten years hiding from her students and staff, Cecelia smiled to herself at the thought of Alice-Miranda suggesting Ophelia install the same in her own study.

The door opened and the three girls giggled their way out of the office, followed by a portly labrador dog wearing what looked to be a neck scarf.

‘Goodbye girls, thanks for stopping by,' Jilly Hobbs called after them from inside the office.

The girls disappeared through another archway off the reception hall.

Miss Cleary glimpsed the dog as she ambled across the hallway towards Alice-Miranda. ‘Where are you off to, Miss Maisy?'

‘She's lovely.' Alice-Miranda scratched the labrador's ears. Maisy immediately rested her head in the child's lap and began to drool.

‘You scratch her ears like that and she will be
your friend for life,' the receptionist smiled.

‘Hello you two.' Jilly Hobbs walked out of her office. Cecelia stood up and the two friends warmly embraced. Alice-Miranda waited her turn.

‘Hello Aunt Jilly.' Alice-Miranda hugged Jilly tightly around the middle. ‘I'm so excited to be here.'

‘And I'm thrilled to bits that you're going to join us – for a little while, at least. I see you've met Maisy.' The headmistress leaned down and gave the dog a scratch.

‘Is she your dog?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘Technically yes, but if you ask any of the girls, they'll tell you she belongs to everyone at Mrs Kimmel's – at least until she does something to disgrace herself.'

‘She's lovely,' Alice-Miranda smiled.

Maisy put her nose in the air. ‘She's hungry,' Cecelia observed.

‘Oh dear, can you smell lunch cooking? Maisy, don't you dare go down to that kitchen. You'll have us shut down by the city,' the headmistress berated. ‘Why don't you head up and visit the ladies in the library? They've always got a treat for you.'

On hearing the magic word ‘treat', Maisy shuffled
across the parquetry floor towards the staircase.

‘Good girl, you go get some exercise. Come on in.' Jilly ushered Cecelia and Alice-Miranda into her study and closed the door.

Alice-Miranda had the most wonderful morning. After a short chat with Aunt Jilly, who they all agreed she would call Miss Hobbs when she was at school, Alice-Miranda was taken to meet her home room teacher Mr Underwood. Jilly decided that Alice-Miranda should spend the next month in the fifth grade – her academic ability was beyond doubt and the fifth grade had several exciting projects planned which Jilly thought would enhance Alice-Miranda's New York experience. It was also where she had a gap in the enrolments but that was information she preferred to keep to herself.

Rake thin with a goatee beard and shaggy hair grazing his collar, Felix Underwood had been a teacher at Mrs Kimmel's for nearly ten years. He welcomed Alice-Miranda into the classroom.

‘Why don't you tell us a little bit about yourself,' Mr Underwood directed.

The tiny child stood in front of the class.

‘Good morning everyone, my name is Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I'm very pleased to be here. I can't wait to meet you all.'

Several girls in the front row smiled.

Alice-Miranda told the class that she usually went to boarding school and that she had come to New York because her parents were there on business for a little while.

The girls were keen to ask questions about her school and were especially intrigued that she lived there all the time.

‘Do they serve, like, gruel for lunch?' a bright-eyed blonde girl in the front row asked.

‘Do you have to study until bedtime?' another girl wanted to know.

‘Is your headmistress, like, a witch or something?'

‘I'm sorry to disappoint you,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘But the answer is no, no and no.'

‘I'm sure that over the next month you can ask Alice-Miranda all about her school,' Mr Underwood grinned.

Alice-Miranda was directed to sit next to a girl with a tight mop of black curls in the second row.

‘Hello,' Alice-Miranda said happily as she slid in behind her desk. The girl gave Alice-Miranda an awkward metal-clad smile.

‘What's your name?' Alice-Miranda spoke in a hushed tone, aware that the classroom had fallen silent.

‘Lucinda,' she whispered.

‘Well, it's nice to meet you Lucinda,' Alice-Miranda smiled.

The time until recess flew by. Maths was followed by spelling (which Alice-Miranda found a little bit challenging, seeing as where she came from ‘colour' contained a ‘u') but it didn't take too long to get the hang of things.

‘And after break I want you to get your sketchbooks and pencils and meet me at the back door,' Mr Underwood advised.

‘Excuse me, Mr Underwood, where are we going?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘We're heading over to the Met for art class,' the man replied.

‘The Met!' Alice-Miranda exclaimed. ‘Really? That's wonderful!'

The rest of the class giggled and stared.

Alice-Miranda had read all about the Metropolitan Museum of Art in her guidebook. Renowned as one of the finest galleries in the world and housing an extensive collection of art and antiquities, it was on her list of places to visit.

‘We go there every week,' Lucinda whispered to Alice-Miranda. ‘It's not a big deal.'

‘Well, I'm glad someone apart from me thinks that it is.' Felix Underwood's bionic teacher ears overheard Lucinda's comment and he grinned at his new student. ‘I love your enthusiasm, Alice-Miranda. If you keep it up we might just trade one of the girls here for you – permanently. I'm sure they'd just love boarding school.'

The rest of the class groaned. ‘Sir!'

‘Lucinda and Ava, can I entrust Alice-Miranda to your care for break time?' he asked.

‘Yes, sir,' the two girls chorused.

‘Hey, what about me?' demanded another girl with black hair braided into cornrows and tied in a
ponytail.

‘Okay, you too Quincy, but don't you go leading this young one astray,' the teacher advised.

‘Not yet, Mr Underwood. I'll wait until lunchtime,' Quincy replied cheekily.

An ear-splitting bell rang through the school, quickly followed by the thundering feet of hundreds of girls as they raced along the hallways. Mrs Kimmel's was set over six floors, including two in the basement which housed the gymnasium and the cafeteria. A rooftop terrace jutted out from the rear of the third level, with the tiniest of playgrounds.

‘Where do we go?' asked Alice-Miranda. She was swept along with her new friends down several flights of stairs, where they were brought to a halt by the long line in the cafeteria.

Despite being in the basement of the building, the space was light and airy with tables for six along the walls and some booths tucked around the corner from the serving area. Fake windows were painted on the walls with real shutters attached, giving the impression that there was a garden just outside.

‘I hope you like fruit,' Quincy turned around and informed her new friend, ‘because Miss Hobbs
is on a health food drive.'

Ava smiled at Alice-Miranda. ‘That's not true at all. The student council voted for it. And there are cheese and crackers too. And it's fruit kebabs, actually.'

The girls proceeded along the edge of the counter. Alice-Miranda picked up a fruit stick and a napkin and followed her new friends.

‘Come on, let's get a table before they're all gone.' Quincy urged the girls towards a booth on the edge of the room. The cafeteria was crowded with girls chatting and eating their morning tea.

Ava slid into the bench with Lucinda beside her and Alice-Miranda sat opposite, next to Quincy.

‘So, do you have a cafeteria like this at your school?' Lucinda asked.

‘No, we have a dining room where all of the girls come together at breakfast, morning tea, lunch, afternoon tea and then again for dinner. Mrs Smith is our cook and she makes the most delicious food – although the girls tell me she's improved quite a lot in the past little while. I have to say her chocolate brownies are probably some of the best anywhere in the world. She packs them with walnuts and they have exactly the right amount of
squishiness.'

‘Mmm, yum, I love brownies. Can she send over a box – or make that two?' Quincy licked her lips. ‘Better still, maybe she can come and work at Mrs Kimmel's for a little while,' Quincy suggested. ‘Cos we're on starvation here.'

‘Mrs Smith would love that. Her grandchildren live in America.' Alice-Miranda picked up the fruit stick, devouring the strawberries, banana and watermelon along the line. ‘And this is delicious.'

‘So where are you staying while you're here, Alice-Miranda?' Quincy asked.

‘We have an apartment above the shop,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘It's about ten blocks away.'

Lucinda Finkelstein's ears pricked up.

‘Do your parents own a store?' she asked, already quite sure of the answer.

‘Yes. Well, it was started by my great-great-grandfather but now Mummy's sort of in charge since Grandpa passed away. Aunt Charlotte works with her too and Daddy helps out but he's quite busy with his own work,' Alice-Miranda replied.

‘Which one is it?' Ava locked eyes with their new friend.

‘It's called Highton's on Fifth,' Alice-Miranda smiled.

‘Highton's on Fifth. Oh my gosh, that's my favourite store in the whole city!' Ava gushed. ‘No offence, Lucinda, but Highton's is so beautiful and I can't wait until it reopens. My grandmother takes me there so we can look at all the window displays each season. We love how they always have themes. Last year there were fairies in the garden for springtime. They looked so real I could have sworn I saw them moving.'

‘I didn't see that.' Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘I haven't been here since I was four. But it sounds wonderful.'

‘My mom always takes me to see Santa at Highton's,' Quincy added. ‘Their Christmas Cave is the best.'

Alice-Miranda wished that she could see the store throughout the year – it sounded like everyone loved it. At least she could learn about it from her new friends.

‘What about you, Lucinda? Do you ever visit Highton's?' Alice-Miranda asked.

Lucinda fiddled with a rogue strand of hair. She took a bite of banana and did her best to avoid the
question, praying that the bell would go.

‘It's all right, Lucinda. I completely understand if you don't. Shopping isn't everyone's cup of tea – a lot of the time I prefer just to look at the beautiful displays. Like on the way here this morning, Mummy and I walked past Finkelstein's and they had the most gorgeous show of roses in their windows. There were hundreds and hundreds of them. Mummy and I just stopped and stared for at least five minutes.'

Lucinda felt her stomach knot, just like it had on the weekend when she heard her father talking to the newspaper article.

‘I don't go,' she mumbled, her tongue probing at the mashed banana that was now firmly stuck in her braces.

‘Come on, Lucinda. Tell Alice-Miranda the truth. Your father would kill you if you walked within a block of Highton's,' Ava revealed.

‘Why?' Alice-Miranda was wide-eyed. ‘Is it in a dangerous part of the city?'

‘No.' Ava grinned and shook her head.

‘Well, if it's not dangerous then why aren't you allowed to go there?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘It seems the same rules don't apply for your family, Alice-Miranda,' Ava began. ‘I wonder what
your father would think, Lucinda, knowing that Alice-Miranda and her mother were admiring your window displays?'

Lucinda looked up at Alice-Miranda.

‘I'm not allowed to go there because my father forbids it,' Lucinda offered. ‘Because I . . .' she faltered. ‘I'm a . . .'

Lucinda and Alice-Miranda said it together: ‘Finkelstein.'

‘But that's wonderful,' Alice-Miranda smiled.

‘How?' Lucinda wondered how much trouble she would be in if her father knew Alice-Miranda was in her class, let alone that she'd been assigned to look after her. ‘We're not supposed to be friends.'

‘Do you know why?' Alice-Miranda asked.

Lucinda shook her head. ‘I've got no idea. I just know that I'm not allowed to go to your store and my father
really
doesn't like your mother.'

‘Oh dear. Apparently there's some long-running family feud between the Hightons and the Finkelsteins that dates back to when the stores were first opened. Mummy was telling me as much as she knew this morning. And no one really knows what it's about – well, except I think your father
might. But he won't give Mummy a straight answer. So this is perfect,' Alice-Miranda gushed.

‘This is a disaster,' Lucinda corrected her. ‘You're just another friend I can't have.'

‘What do you mean?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘If anyone tells my father that I've met you, let alone that we're in the same class, he'll be so mad, he'll phone Miss Hobbs and demand that you be moved. He'll yell at me.' Lucinda's eyes glistened.

‘But that's just silly. Whatever problem our great-great-grandfathers had with each other has nothing to do with us. And if anything, our being friends is the best possible thing in the world,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘Perhaps together we can solve that silly old mystery. But why did you say “another friend”?'

Ava and Quincy exchanged glances.

‘Lucinda's not allowed to be friends with us either,' Quincy started.

‘We're not on the same social scale as her,' Ava added.

‘I don't understand,' Alice-Miranda replied. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Well, her mother and father have carefully selected her friends for her and they go every Saturday
afternoon to their salon at Finkelstein's to meet up,' Ava explained.

‘And we're not invited,' Quincy added. ‘We're not the right kind of people.'

‘The right kind of people?' Alice-Miranda frowned. ‘But you're good friends at school?'

Lucinda nodded. ‘Quincy and Ava are my best friends in the world.'

‘Come on, Finkelstein.' Quincy looked at her. ‘We're your
only
friends in the world. We love you no matter how weird your parents are.'

‘But I don't understand why you can't be friends,' said Alice-Miranda. ‘You go to the same school and you live in the same city.'

‘Yes, but Ava's here on –' Quincy and Ava glanced at each other, and then Quincy whispered – ‘scholarship, and my parents own a jazz club.'

‘We're really inappropriate,' Ava added.

‘But that's wonderful!' Alice-Miranda fizzed. ‘Mrs Kimmel's is a lovely school and I'm sure that it's very expensive so it's important to have scholarships so lots of girls get to come here. And owning a jazz club sounds amazing.'

‘Gee, I wish everyone thought like you,' Ava grinned.

‘We have girls on scholarships at my school at home. It would be terribly dull if everyone was exactly the same,' Alice-Miranda explained.