About the Book

  The MILLION-COPY Bestselling Series

  Join Alice-Miranda in a delightful Christmas adventure!

  Christmas is almost here, and Alice-Miranda and her closest friends are celebrating early at Highton Hall. But it’s not all gingerbread, parties and present shopping.

  There are mysteries to be solved!

  Why are Christmas decorations disappearing and local stores empty of festive treats? What long-kept family secret does Alice-Miranda discover? More importantly, what will she do about it?

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  And just in case you’re wondering . . .

  Cast of Characters

  About the Author

  Jacqueline Supports

  Books by Jacqueline Harvey

  Sneak Peek of Alice-Miranda in the Outback

  Imprint

  Read More at Penguin Books Australia

  For Ian, with whom I have celebrated many memorable Christmases,

  and for Sandy, who would have loved this story.

  Delia Wickham picked up the box containing the only things her sister had left in the world – a framed photograph of a smiling young girl, her wedding and engagement rings, a patchwork quilt that had been sewn by their grandmother (Delia had one almost the same), a pile of magazines, some bric-a-brac and a china teapot of indeterminate origin. Most of the woman’s wardrobe had been donated long ago. Delia would drop off what was left at the charity shop on her way home, along with some of the other things she didn’t want to keep.

  ‘Thank you, Louisa,’ Delia said to the woman sitting behind the reception desk at the nursing home. Her only sibling, Maggie Phillips, had died there the previous week.

  ‘It’s no problem at all. I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Wickham,’ Louisa said. She gave a tight smile. ‘But at least Maggie’s not suffering anymore.’

  Delia knew that was true. After a massive stroke had rendered her sister in need of twenty-four-hour care, the doctors had predicted Maggie wouldn’t live long. But, stubborn as always, she’d gone on to prove everyone wrong. Delia couldn’t quite comprehend that it had been almost fifteen years.

  ‘Have you been able to find her daughter?’ Louisa asked, nodding at the photograph sitting atop the box.

  Delia shook her head. ‘Unfortunately, no.’

  ‘Sad, isn’t it – the way families can drift apart,’ the woman said. ‘Maggie’s lucky she had you. We’ve got residents who haven’t had a visitor in all the time they’ve been here.’

  Delia felt a twinge of guilt that her own visitations had been few and far between. It’s not that she hadn’t wanted to come – it was just difficult with her job. She’d worked for Elliot Turner since she was a young woman – initially as his personal assistant but then, after a time, she took over the complete running of his household. She’d never married or had children of her own but neither of those things had been on her wish list. Her days were happy and fulfilling – though she always regretted never getting to know her niece, Aster.

  It wasn’t what anyone expected. Years ago, Maggie and her husband Stuart had lived only a few miles from Delia. He was a doctor at the local hospital; she was a young woman revelling in new motherhood.

  When tragedy struck, it changed everything. Maggie’s husband Stuart was killed in a car accident when Aster was only a few months old. Days after the funeral, Maggie packed up the house, took her baby and moved to the other end of the country. Delia tried to maintain contact, but her sister cut her off. She really didn’t know why – but at the time she’d put it down to grief. Over the years she’d tried to find her, but Maggie had moved house and the pair completely lost touch.

  Delia would never have known her sister was so gravely ill if it wasn’t for the police who somehow managed to track her down. When she made the long journey to Maggie’s home to see what she could find out, the next-door neighbour was shocked to learn that Delia was indeed alive and well. Maggie had told her that her entire family was dead – apart from her daughter. The neighbour also said that Maggie’s niece, Aster, had taken up with a young fellow her mother considered completely unsuitable – and then the pair of them disappeared. Apparently, Maggie reported her missing, but it was only months later that she had the stroke.

  From what Delia learned, it seemed that mother and daughter clashed constantly. Maggie treated the girl like a possession and hence she had run away.

  While Delia had done her best to find Aster since then, it had been without success. She’d even hired a private detective who concluded that the girl had most likely left the country years ago.

  Delia vowed to her dead sister that she’d redouble her efforts. After all, Aster was the only family she had left.

  Alice-Miranda set the last candelabra down at the end of the long table. ‘I love Christmas, don’t you, Millie?’

  Her best friend looked over from the fireplace where she’d finished hanging a row of white stockings from the mantel.

  ‘You know what they say, it’s the most wonderful time of the year,’ Millie sang – a broad grin on her freckled face.

  The pair were putting the finishing touches to the dining room decorations, having earlier been helped by a veritable army of girls and staff. Most had now headed back to the boarding houses to pack, given it was the last night before the Christmas holidays. It seemed strange to be leaving school on a Wednesday morning, but that’s how the term calendar had fallen.

  In the centre of the vast room, the school gardener, Charlie Weatherly, stood atop a giant ladder pinning the last of the fairy lights to the ceiling. ‘Can someone flick that switch for me?’

  Millie scurried over to the panel.

  Instantly, the twinkling lights transformed the space into a festive wonderland. Later, when the candles were lit, it would be even more gorgeous.

  ‘Wow!’ the girls gasped.

  Charlie leaned back to survey his handiwork and agreed that it was very pretty, indeed.

  ‘Hello?’ a tiny girl with cascading blonde curls called as she swung open the door. Britt Fox, who everyone considered Alice-Miranda’s Nordic twin, was on exchange for the term – although she’d recently confided in Alice-Miranda that she was hoping to extend her time or, even better, change schools permanently. Britt had said that while she loved her friends back home in Oslo and missed her parents terribly, there was something about Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale Academy for Proper Young Ladies that had her heart from the very first day. It was quite likely to do with the students, who she adored, but it wasn’t only that. The classes were always interesting and she’d never felt more challenged when it came to her studies. Alice-Miranda could only agree with her.

  ‘I thought I’d come back and see if you needed any more help, but this looks amazing!’ Britt exclaimed, unwinding the scarf from around her neck and removing her woollen gloves.

  ‘Do you think it’s enough?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  ‘Enough?’ the girl echoed. ‘This is better than the windows at Steen and Strom – that’s my favourite department store at home. It’s incredible.’

  Decorated in a silver and white theme with touches of azure blue, the hall looked like something from a magazine, with giant wreaths on the walls, stockings over the fireplace, candelabras on the tables, a huge Christmas tree covered in silver baubles in the corner and fairy lights strung across the ceiling. In only a few hours, gifts would be piled high beneath the tree, purchased with money raised by the girls at a cake stall and mufti day. There had been a committee in charge of liaising with several local charities to find out what was needed most. The podium where the teachers’ head table usually sat had been transformed into a makeshift stage with a curtain. The staff would be seated with the students for dinner this evening.

  Tonight was the annual school Christmas feast for the girls, staff and a few specially invited guests. It was to be followed by a talent show, which had drawn fierce auditions over the past few weekends. Caprice had already told everyone she was the star, of course, given her singing prowess, but apparently there were some other impressive acts too. Miss Ree
dy and Miss Wall had overseen the tryouts and had asked the girls not to share anything about their performances so that everyone would get a surprise. Tomorrow the students would leave for the holidays – although this year Alice-Miranda was hosting a group of her closest friends at Highton Hall for an early Christmas celebration before they all went their separate ways.

  ‘Where did you get everything?’ Britt asked.

  ‘Mummy sent it from Highton’s. The stores change the theme for Christmas every year and that means most of whatever was used the time before is donated after the season to various hospitals or charities, but this was left over. I told Mrs Parker that she can have it all for the village for next Christmas. She was very grateful,’ Alice-Miranda explained.

  ‘No, she wasn’t,’ Millie rebutted. ‘Myrtle said it was a pity Winchesterfield had to have the Highton’s hand-me-downs and she could only take it all if the school could find somewhere to keep it. Apparently, she doesn’t have any space at home and the village hall is overflowing – which I know it’s not because I was there a few weeks ago helping put things out for the trivia night. That didn’t sound very grateful to me.’

  Britt giggled. ‘Mrs Parker certainly says whatever is on her mind.’

  Charlie Weatherly clucked his tongue. ‘Yes, that woman has a gift.’

  ‘The gift of natural rudeness,’ Millie said, to great guffaws of laughter from the man.

  Alice-Miranda looked at the three of them. ‘You know she means well.’

  ‘Yes, most of the time I’d agree with you, Alice-Miranda,’ Charlie said.

  ‘I wouldn’t,’ Millie replied.

  ‘You wouldn’t what, Millicent?’ Myrtle Parker said loudly. Millie shrunk behind Britt, hoping that the woman hadn’t just heard their earlier conversation. It didn’t pay to cross her – Myrtle had a memory like an elephant.

  Alice-Miranda came to Millie’s rescue. ‘Oh, hello Mrs Parker, how are you this afternoon? Do you know if Mrs Derby is coming this evening?’

  Myrtle pursed her lips and pulled her shoulders back while adjusting the string of pearls around her neck. This afternoon she was wearing a beige skirt and a matching cardigan with pearl buttons – very demure considering she often preferred bold floral prints that looked as if she’d repurposed some curtains.

  ‘Last I heard, the baby hasn’t been well so I’m not sure. Honestly, I’d be staying home if I could in this ghastly weather,’ Myrtle replied. ‘She’d be mad to bring the little mite out.’

  Louella Derby, Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale’s beloved school secretary, had not long ago had her first baby – a boy she and her husband, who was the local constable, had named Daniel. Surprisingly, Myrtle Parker had taken over Mrs Derby’s role prior to the woman’s maternity leave (as Mrs Derby had been terribly unwell during her pregnancy). To the amazement of the children and staff, the Headmistress, Miss Grimm, had kept Mrs Parker on once the baby was born and despite some early hiccups, it seemed the two women had come to a workable arrangement. Things had improved dramatically once Mrs Parker stopped impersonating a guard dog, keeping everyone out of the office – and to be fair, she had helped Alice-Miranda and her peers solve a mystery while they were on their recent Queen’s Colours expedition in Egypt.

  ‘Is Mr Parker coming?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  Myrtle rolled her eyes. ‘He said he wouldn’t miss your performance for anything.’

  The girl grinned. Reg Parker was one of her favourite people in the world, and even more so since he’d started teaching her the drums a while back. It wasn’t something his wife approved of, but the man was in his element. He now had a small group of students and his own pocket money – most of which he spent buying delicious treats for his charges or vinyl records to add to his extensive collection.

  ‘Anyway, you lot had better get back to the boarding house and change for dinner,’ Mrs Parker instructed. ‘And make sure that you take some umbrellas with you. The weather is bad and only getting worse.’

  On the other side of the dining room wall, a huge crash followed by a loud yelp caused everyone to jump. Fortunately, Charlie was already down the ladder or he may well have fallen off.

  ‘Good heavens!’ Myrtle gasped. ‘What on earth was that?’

  ‘It sounded like Mrs Smith,’ Alice-Miranda said, running towards the double doors that led through the servery to the kitchen beyond.

  Seconds later, the girl arrived to find the school cook, Doreen Smith, standing over an empty roasting pan, the contents of which was now spread across the flagstone floor.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake.’ The woman mopped her brow with a handkerchief.

  ‘Mrs Smith, are you all right?’ Alice-Miranda asked, rushing to her side. Millie, Britt, Charlie and Myrtle were gathered behind her.

  ‘Yes, dear. I’m sorry to have startled you all. I lost my grip. I suppose that will teach me for not waiting for help these days – these pans are so heavy. Mrs Jennings was just collecting Miss Grimm’s afternoon tea tray and I’ve sent Ginny to the greenhouse to find some rosemary for the lamb,’ she said. ‘I fear I’m getting too old for all this.’

  Alice-Miranda and Millie had already found some tongs and were picking up the pieces of turkey from the floor. Britt grabbed a cloth from the sink and was wiping up splatters of grease.

  Doreen Smith sighed. ‘At least Fudge is in for a treat.’ The school’s caramel-coloured cavoodle was always far more enthusiastic about human food than his own.

  ‘Will there still be enough for tonight?’ Alice-Miranda asked. She could see other cuts sizzling away in the cooker as well as two large legs of glazed ham sitting on the bench.

  ‘I think we’ll be fine,’ Mrs Smith replied. ‘As long as no one’s too hungry.’

  Myrtle Parker wrinkled her lip. ‘Well, you’d better hope there’s enough, Doreen, because I’ve just come from the supermarket in Downsfordvale and the shelves at Kennington’s were practically empty – particularly of anything related to the festive season.’ She turned to Alice-Miranda. ‘You’d think your father would be used to the Christmas rush by now.’

  Millie frowned. ‘You do realise, Mrs Parker, that Hugh is the CEO. He doesn’t actually do the ordering.’

  Myrtle’s lip twitched again. ‘Of course, I do. But Kennington’s have a problem – mark my words. At least this time they’re not poisoning people. Though it sounds like your father could do well hiring more reliable staff who check on things properly.’

  ‘Like you, Mrs Parker,’ Millie said, biting her lip.

  ‘Yes, exactly,’ the woman replied.

  Alice-Miranda shuddered at the memory. The food poisoning scandal had been a ghastly time made worse by the fact that it was one of Kennington’s own scientists who was responsible. Fortunately, no one died. The child was keenly aware, though, that it didn’t take much to ruin reputations.

  When her parents, Cecelia Highton-Smith and Hugh Kennington-Jones, had married, their wedding had been reported as the most magnificent retail merger the world had ever seen. Given her mother was one of the descendants of the Highton’s department store empire and her father was heir to the Kennington’s grocery chain, the couple certainly had shopkeeping in their blood. Over the years, Alice-Miranda had seen her parents go through several difficult times and the girl knew that any sort of scandal could have a terrible impact on Kennington’s and Highton’s and the thousands of employees relying on them for their livelihoods – not to mention the shoppers who trusted their brands.

  Millie looked at Alice-Miranda and rolled her eyes.