Alice-Miranda in the Alps (19 page)

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Authors: Jacqueline Harvey

BOOK: Alice-Miranda in the Alps
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Florian von Zwicky sat at the head of the boardroom table, deep in thought.

‘Hello darling,' Giselle said, walking in carrying two steaming cups of tea. ‘What are you doing in here all by yourself?'

He glanced up and smiled. ‘Just thinking, my dear.'

‘What were you thinking about?' she asked, setting the tea down in front of him.

Florian sighed. ‘I ran into Frau Doerflinger this morning as she was leaving the hotel.'

Giselle sat down beside him. ‘And?'

‘She asked when we were planning to retire,' he said, staring into his teacup.

‘I suppose we can't do this forever, can we?' Giselle said softly, placing her hand on his. ‘It's not as if we have heirs to pass this place onto.'

Florian nodded, almost to himself. He and the Baroness had longed for children of their own, but sadly it was not to be. Having the hotel had in its own way filled that void. With so many people coming and going, there had never been much time to be lonely, and over the years they had come to accept that their lives could still be full of children – those who passed through with their mess and havoc, laughter and tears, only to leave at the end of their holidays.

‘There was something else,' Florian said. ‘Frau Doerflinger mentioned that she would be very interested if we ever consider selling the hotel. She runs a good business and has an excellent reputation. Perhaps we should think about it …'

In the room beside them, Valerie's mouth twitched into a smile. The Baroness had left the door open and she could hear every word. She had to call her Aunt Delphine at once. It seemed the dream of the Grand Hotel Fanger was going to come true
after all. Valerie wondered why her aunt had only approached the man now. She thought that a deal had been in motion some time ago. Valerie shook the thought from her mind. It was not her place to question how her aunt conducted her business as long as the hotel would soon be in their hands. She couldn't wait to be in charge. There were so many things she wanted to do to bring the hotel into the twenty-first century.

‘If we can't turn things around soon, I suppose we will have no choice,' Giselle said.

The Baron squeezed her hand. ‘I don't want Hugh and Cecelia to invest money that we might not be able to repay. I shall call Frau Doerflinger and commence negotiations.'

Giselle stood up and kissed her husband's forehead. ‘Whatever happens, my darling, we will always have each other.'

Nina walked through the front door to the sound of a violina playing. She paused for a moment to soak it in, then quickly removed her ski boots and hung up her coat.

‘Opa!' she called, running to the back room.

‘Slow down, my Nina Bear,' her grandfather chuckled. ‘Have you had a good day?'

Nina nodded, grinning. ‘It was the best, but it is not over yet, Opa. It is Alice-Miranda's last night in Zermatt and she has invited me to stay for dinner and a sleepover. Is Papa home yet?'

The old man shook his head. ‘Your father will be late. There are some urgent repairs on the mountain from yesterday's storm.'

Nina's face fell. ‘I should stay with you, then.'

‘Nonsense,' the old man replied. ‘Go and have fun. I am happy tinkering away here and I have soup for my dinner. Frau Gisler has dropped by three times now and I promise you I will not wander off anywhere.'

Nina looked into her grandfather's eyes. ‘It is so good to have you back, Opa,' she said, hugging him tightly.

‘It is good to be back,' he whispered, gently tugging one of her plaits.

Nina giggled. ‘Opa, you haven't done that for ages. Now I know you are well and truly home.'

Her grandfather kissed the top of her head. ‘Do not forget to pack your nightdress. I will tell
your papa where you are. It is good to see you smiling too.'

‘I love you, Opa.' Nina gave him a final squeeze before running back into the foyer and up the stairs.

Her grandfather brushed a tear from the corner of his eye. ‘I love you too, my Nina Bear.'

‘Here's to good friends!' the Baron said, raising his glass.

‘Good friends,' the adults and children echoed, clinking their glasses.

Seated at a long table in the centre of the dining room, the family and friends were enjoying a sumptuous meal of roast beef and vegetables, to be followed by a chocolate gateau.

‘It has been so lovely to have you all here,' the Baron said with a smile. ‘It is all the more special because this will be somewhat of a last supper.'

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

‘Giselle and I have reached a decision. We are, as you all know, approaching an age where this –' the old man swept an arm across the room – ‘is all too
much for us. We cannot fathom what has happened differently these past months but, for some reason, people do not come like they once did.' He looked at his wife, who was sitting at the other end of the long table. ‘Hugh, Cecelia, we value your help and support, and even more than that, we value your friendship. We do not want to muddy that water with any loans or arrangements, so we have decided to sell.'

Alice-Miranda's eyes widened. ‘But Uncle Florian, the hotel is your life.'

The looks on the faces of her fellow diners showed that they were similarly surprised, except for Hugh and Cecelia, who had already been told of their decision.

The Baron nodded and smiled at the girl. ‘It is the beginning of a new chapter.'

‘What will happen to the Grand Hotel Von Zwicky?' Millie said, buttering her bread roll.

‘Actually, I have already negotiated the sale this afternoon,' the Baron replied.

‘Who's the lucky buyer?' Hamish asked.

‘It is Delphine Doerflinger and her husband, Otto Fanger,' the Baron said.

Millie recoiled. ‘Not that witch! She's mean.'

Jacinta gave her friend a swift kick under the table.

‘Ow!' Millie yelped.

Pippa eyeballed her daughter. ‘Millie, where are your manners? Apologise at once.'

Millie flushed red with shame.

‘It is all right, dear,' the Baroness said. ‘Frau Doerflinger certainly is a formidable businesswoman. Everyone knows that she is the reason her husband is so successful.'

The children exchanged glances.

‘Millie's right,' Lucas whispered to Sep, who was sitting beside him. ‘She is mean and weird and she definitely hates kids.'

Sep nodded.

Dinner was served and the room was soon filled with chatter. Try as she might, however, Alice-Miranda could not shake the feeling that something was awry. There was something about Delphine Doerflinger that had her worried. It was strange how the woman had neglected to mention that she was heading to exactly the same place as them. And was it just a coincidence that Uncle Florian had met those frauds in her hotel? Not to mention that Alice-Miranda had seen the woman with Marius and Andreas. There were so many things that just didn't add up.

Lars Dettwiller had spent the afternoon checking each of the instruments, switching them on and listening to their tunes, cringing at the state of some. But for the first time since that terrible day, he felt alive again. Frau Gisler had checked in on him three times and had brought over a huge pot of soup for his dinner. He'd just eaten a bowl of it and was pleased with himself for not burning the house down – unlike his last attempt at cooking, when his son-in-law had arrived home to billowing smoke and a chargrilled lump of beef.

Lars looked at his watch. There was something he was curious about downstairs. He had begun to wonder whether, if he put his mind to it, he could finish restoring the station and reopen the museum. If only he could summon the energy he knew would be required. He had no idea when Sebastien would be home and he didn't want his son-in-law to worry if he returned home to an empty house.

Unable to resist, Lars decided to have a quick look. He unlocked the door and closed it behind him, putting the key in the lock so he wouldn't lose it. Then he flicked the switch on the top of the stairs and carefully made his way down into the subterranean cavern. As he reached the bottom, he felt around for the second light switch when something caught his eye. Was it just his imagination or were there torch-lights on the other side of the tracks? He took his hand away from the switch and peered into the pitch black.

‘Hurry up,' a voice hissed.

‘It would help if it wasn't so dark,' another voice grumbled.

‘The others are coming with the lanterns, so stop your whining.'

Lars could feel his heart pounding inside his chest. His breath quickened.

‘How did you find it, Marius?' the first voice asked.

The old man strained his eyes, peering into the darkness. He could hear things being shifted about.

‘What does it matter?' Marius replied. ‘We have access now.'

‘Just as well you did,' the first man said gruffly. ‘This shipment is far too big to have gone through the village, and now we will be able to handle so much more.'

‘Dante, are you there?' another voice called.

As more torches lit up the space, Lars could make out several silhouettes. There seemed to be seven or eight of them, loading boxes onto one of the handcars. His mind raced. He had heard stories of smugglers using the route over the mountains, from Cervinia to Zermatt, during the war. They had supposedly hidden millions of dollars' worth of jewels and cash in Swiss bank vaults. But that was years ago and he had never really believed it.

Lars felt a tickle in his throat. He clamped a hand over his mouth and turned to go back upstairs before it was too late. As he placed his foot on the first step, Lars sputtered then coughed. Suddenly, one of the torches swivelled to train a beam of light directly at him.

‘You!' someone yelled. ‘What are you doing down here?'

Two men rushed across the tracks and leapt up onto the platform. They grabbed Lars, covering his mouth while dragging him down into the cavern. Lars tried to resist but it was no use.

Someone noticed the beam of light coming from the stairwell. ‘He must be the old man from the museum,' he said.

‘I thought he had died,' said another. ‘The museum has been closed for a year.'

‘No, someone found him on the mountainside last week – they said he was trying to fly. The old boy has lost his marbles,' Dante said. ‘That's not all he is going to lose, either.'

Lars gulped. He knew exactly what that meant.

One of the men ran up the stairs. ‘Hey, there's a door up here. It must go into the museum,' he called back. ‘There's a key.'

Dante leaned towards Lars. ‘Who else knows you're down here?' he hissed.

Lars shook his head. ‘N-no one.'

Dante nodded, then turned to yell up the stairs. ‘Lock that door and bring me the key!'

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