Ellie swallowed hard. She was waiting too long and she knew it. Before she could blink, the girl with the chocolate curls had finished her transaction and was standing right beside her.

  ‘Hello, do you need some assistance? I could get someone if you like,’ she said.

  Ellie shook her head. ‘No, I’m fine. I’m, um . . . waiting for my mum.’

  Ellie’s fingers were wrapped around the box under her coat. She couldn’t move now, or the girl would know what she was up to.

  The girl looked down at Ellie’s open bag. ‘Oh, don’t you just love that book? A Little Princess is one of my all-time favourites.’

  Ellie could feel her face flushing. How embarrassing. She’d been meaning to drop it into the returns chute at the library on her way and completely forgotten.

  ‘Do you like reading?’ the girl asked. ‘I’d read all day and half the night if I could.’

  Ellie nodded. ‘The Hundred Dresses is better.’ She wished she hadn’t said it, but the words were out of her mouth before she had time to stop them.

  The girl bit her lip. ‘I’ve never heard of that one. Is it by the same author?’

  Ellie shook her head, wondering why she’d said anything. The Hundred Dresses was her favourite book, but she didn’t need to share that fact.

  ‘Goodness, how rude. I haven’t even introduced myself,’ the girl said. ‘I’m Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and I’m very pleased to meet you.’

  Ellie baulked as the girl thrust out her hand. Thankfully, they were interrupted by Ellie’s mother who appeared through a side door, which Ellie knew led to an office further back.

  ‘Hello, sweetheart. I didn’t realise you were here,’ the woman said.

  Ellie swallowed hard. This was even worse than she imagined. ‘I . . . I was just on my way home and thought I’d say hello.’

  ‘Really? You hardly ever visit me at work,’ Juliette said, giving her daughter a grin. ‘Who’s your friend?’

  ‘No, she’s not . . .’ Ellie started but was cut off.

  ‘I’m Alice-Miranda,’ the girl said.

  There was a flicker of recognition on Juliette’s face. ‘Oh, you’re Hugh and Cecelia’s daughter,’ she said. ‘It’s good to meet you. I’m Juliette and this is my daughter, Ellie.’

  Ellie suddenly realised that in that ridiculously long surname there was a Kennington. This was the girl whose parents owned the grocery store – not just this one – there were about a zillion others across the country too. Her mother had told her that the family lived on the edge of the village in some mansion.

  ‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ Alice-Miranda replied. ‘Have you worked here long?’

  ‘Just a few months – I started when the store opened,’ Juliette said. ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘I think it’s definitely one of Daddy’s best,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘I like that it’s so much smaller than the regular supermarkets. You know it was a bit controversial with some of the locals to begin with, but when Daddy promised to keep the integrity of the high street shops, making sure that the butcher and baker, greengrocer and coffee shop all stayed pretty much as they were with the supermarket in behind, people came around to the idea. And all of the shopkeepers who wanted to retire were able to and some work here now instead. Even Mrs Bottomley told Mummy the other day that she thought it was a triumph – which, if you know her, is huge praise.’

  Juliette smiled. ‘Oh, I’ve met her. She works at my son’s school.’

  ‘Do you live in the village?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  ‘Yes, we moved for my job. It’s a gorgeous place and I think we’re especially fortunate that your parents live close by. Your father often drops in to talk to the staff and check that everything’s running smoothly.’

  ‘And is it?’ Alice-Miranda asked, a crease on her forehead. ‘You haven’t had any trouble with missing Christmas stock, have you?’

  Juliette shook her head. ‘Not that I’m aware of.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a relief,’ the child replied.

  Juliette frowned, wondering if she’d missed something. Just as she was about to ask, Alice-Miranda was joined by the rest of the youngsters who’d been at the self-service check-outs. Several of the children were holding cloth bags full to the brim with their purchases.

  One of the boys jostled another of the lads, who bumped into Ellie. Her coat fell to the ground but fortunately, as it did, her hand took the box with it underneath. She let it drop into her bag.

  ‘These are my friends – we’re having five days of pre-Christmas celebrations – our school’s finished a few days earlier than most,’ Alice-Miranda said. She then proceeded to introduce everyone; the names punctuated by a staccato chorus of hellos. ‘We’re making gingerbread houses when we get home. That’s why we’ve bought bags and bags of sweets. Anyway, it was lovely to meet you, Juliette and Ellie. Hope we see you at the Christmas light ceremony on Friday. It’s one of my favourite events of the year. We’ll all be there and everyone else from home. We wouldn’t miss it.’

  And with that, the children spilled out the door and onto the street where spits of rain had begun to fall.

  Juliette gave a wave. ‘Well, she’s adorable,’ the woman said.

  ‘If you like that sort of kid,’ Ellie muttered.

  Her mother frowned. ‘Why, what sort of kid is she?’

  ‘A spoilt brat,’ Ellie said.

  A look of disappointment spread across Juliette’s face. ‘I’m sorry, but she didn’t seem like one to me. You know it’s a stereotype, Ellie – the idea that because she comes from a wealthy family, she must be a certain type of person. If you didn’t know who her parents were, I’m sure you would think she was a lovely girl. Just because you’re rich doesn’t automatically make you mean and horrible.’

  Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘And you’d know, Mum – because we’re friends with so many rich people. I’ve got to go,’ she said and quickly zipped up her backpack and threw her coat back on.

  ‘I know life might not seem fair, Ellie, but Alice-Miranda’s parents are always doing things for other people, and they’re very well loved in this village. They gave me a job and last time Hugh was in here, he asked if I might be interested in doing a management course. That would really change things for us, El. Anyway, I’d better get back to work. I’ll see you at home in a little while,’ Juliette said.

  Ellie shook her head. ‘I’m going to Hazel’s.’

  ‘But I thought you said that you were on your way home,’ Juliette replied. ‘If I’d known you were coming, I wouldn’t have booked Myles into that extra day at after-school care.’

  ‘I told you I’m not looking after him anymore, Mum. I’m fourteen – I need a life,’ Ellie said.

  ‘Please don’t speak to me like that,’ Juliette whispered. She could see several customers looking their way and the last thing she needed was a scene with her daughter. ‘I’ll see you at home.’

  ‘After I go to Hazel’s. I’ve got to talk to her about something important,’ Ellie said. ‘And you know – if I had a phone, I could call her, but seeing that we’re always broke and I’m just supposed to suck that up . . .’

  ‘Ellie – I’m doing my best,’ the woman said with a sigh.

  ‘Seriously? Fine, whatever,’ Ellie said as she charged out the door into the rain that was now coming down hard.

  ‘Run!’ Millie shouted as the rain pelted down.

  ‘I told you we should have brought umbrellas with us,’ Caprice said. The children took off, dodging puddles and charging through the rear gates of Highton Hall along the back driveway towards the row of sheds near the farm.

  ‘I’m freezing,’ Jacinta wailed as Lucas put his arm around her and they ran along beside each other.

  At least they were all wearing rain jackets and wellington boots so would only be soaked from the neck up.

  ‘The shed!’ Alice-Miranda yelled above the hammering of the raindrops. ‘We can wait it out in there.’

  The children ran after her and spilled into the near-empty building, their eyes soon adjusting to the low light.

  Neville shook his head like a dog, splattering the others with water and earning himself a telling off from Sloane. Then Sep did it too and Sloane punched him hard on the arm.

  ‘Ow!’ the boy griped. ‘You’re so mean, Sloane.’

  ‘Yup,’ the girl replied with a grin.

  ‘Are you okay, Sep?’ Millie asked.

  He rubbed his shoulder and pouted. ‘I suppose I’ll live.’

  Caprice ran her hands down her copper tresses and wrung the water out, letting it drip onto the concrete floor.

  ‘I know this place,’ Chessie said. ‘It was one of my hideouts when I ran away from Bodlington and was trying to get home to Mummy.’

  Britt looked at the girl. ‘You ran away?’

  ‘It was a spur of the moment decision. I actually have Millie’s cousin Madagascar to thank for it,’ Chessie said.

  ‘Urgh, please don’t mention her name,’ Millie said.

  ‘I agree,’ Caprice echoed. ‘She’s the meanest person I’ve ever met in my life. For a while she had me fooled, but then I realised – she wasn’t funny, she was horrible.’

  Millie looked at the girl, glad to hear it. Caprice and Madagascar had fallen out during the Queen’s Colours trip to Egypt, where the pair had first seemed destined to be best friends. Cracks had started to appear when Madagascar said all manner of mean things about almost everyone and Caprice, it seemed, had grown a conscience. In the end, the two had a spectacular fight that ended the relationship on the spot.

  Sloane and Chessie found some old crates, which they dragged into a circle. They dumped their shopping bags in the centre. Outside, the rain was even heavier now – the sound of it on the roof so loud that they had to shout to be heard above it.

  ‘Anyone hungry?’ Alice-Miranda asked, pointing to the bags.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Britt called back. ‘I thought they were for the gingerbread houses?’

  ‘One packet won’t hurt,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘Have some of these.’ The girl reached into her bag. Alice-Miranda had bought chocolate freckles and marshmallows as well as musk sticks and peppermint leaves but in among the purchases there was something else. She peered inside and saw the donations box from the Kennington’s counter.

  ‘How did you get in here?’ Alice-Miranda said, pulling it out and holding it up for her friends to see.

  ‘Alice-Miranda – you little thief,’ Lucas teased. ‘Stealing the donations box from your parents’ own supermarket chain. Shame on you.’

  ‘Ha ha, Lucas,’ the girl said. She was trying to think how on earth she came to have it when she realised that Ellie had been standing by the counter with her coat draped over the top. She’d seemed nervous, but why would she take the box?

  Alice-Miranda wasn’t about to accuse the girl without any proof – that wasn’t fair.

  ‘It must have fallen off into my bag and I didn’t notice,’ the girl said. ‘I’ll give it to Mummy when we get home.’

  But the mystery was weighing on her mind – along with who was stealing from Kennington’s and taking the decorations from the villages. It was all very strange indeed.

  Bronson Byers was looking forward to finally getting home. It had been a very long time and in truth he had no idea what the place was even like. He did know that Juliette had moved again. Keeping tabs on her with the life he currently led wasn’t easy. His head of command required full immersion. It was lucky he still had a mate in the force who made a point of knowing where she and the kids were. Sending money was easy – but he couldn’t pass on too much. He never knew who might be watching.

  And when he did make it home, would Juliette simply take him back? Ellie would be angry. He expected that. She was twelve and a half the last time he’d seen her and now what was she? Fourteen. Not the most forgiving of ages. And Myles – he missed that boy with an ache in his heart that some days made him wonder if he wasn’t having a coronary occlusion.

  In the early days, Juliette hadn’t been worried that his work often took him away for months at a time. But that was because the jobs were relatively short. He’d never been involved in anything longer than six months – until this one. Thankfully, the end was in sight.

  Bronson had been driving lorries for over a year now and, while it was tiring, he’d seen more of the country than he ever imagined and met some good people. He’d met some very dubious folks too. But his job wasn’t to ask questions – it was to make deliveries and get back to the depot in the allotted timeframe. He’d recently changed companies – the new one offered more money – a lot more when it came down to it. And it took him closer to the top. The switch had come at a time he wasn’t expecting.

  Bronson stretched his arms over his head and arched his back. Despite the many hours he spent sitting, he was still fit. He had to be. It was a long drive tonight to a warehouse he’d never been to before. The paperwork said that he was to drop off one trailer and pick up another, and he’d receive instructions about his next destination. He’d sleep in the cabin of the lorry – like usual. But come the weekend, he was heading home. His boss had promised him it would be all over by then. That reminded him, once everything was done and dusted he needed to stop by the shops . . .

  Bronson turned on the radio and began to sing along to an old rock song that reminded him of the days when he was young and the world was something to be embraced instead of feared. Being an adult had a habit of beating the joy out of life. He laughed to himself at the crazy ambitions he’d once had. Bronson had wanted to sell cars – expensive ones like Aston Martins and Porsches. He used to walk past the dealership at the end of the high street on his way to and from school. The bloke who ran the place always looked like a million bucks and the cars around him would have cost more than Bronson could make in twenty years. These days, cars like that still turned his head – there’d been one assignment where he thought he might have ended up in the motor business, but that turned out to be a dead end.

  Bronson’s dad, Brian, had been a drunk who laughed himself stupid when Bronson said he wanted to sell Ferraris and the like. Brian told him he’d more likely be stealing them. But that was never going to happen. Bronson might have been a lot of things, but he had a conscience – unlike his old man, who’d had several brushes with the law for receiving stolen goods and breaking into houses. Bronson decided when he was just a kid that he wouldn’t ever touch a drop of alcohol and he wasn’t going to hang around with bad people who engaged in the sort of behaviour that could see you go to prison. For the most part, he’d managed to stay true to his word. Though his father probably wouldn’t believe what he actually did now – at least his life wasn’t boring. Far from it.

  Ellie raced through the rain to Hazel’s house, where she stood on the veranda shivering. She reached out to ring the bell, her hand shaking uncontrollably.

  It took a few minutes before Hazel’s mother answered the door.

  ‘Hello, Ellie, darlin’,’ the woman said, peering out into the street. ‘You must be frozen to the bone. What were you thinking running around without an umbrella? Gosh, that coat of yours is far too light for this dreadful weather.’

  Ellie nodded. Her teeth were chattering, and her fingers and toes were numb. She tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

  ‘Hazel’s in her room, but let’s get you inside and into the shower first,’ the woman said. Keeley Hendrix was dressed in what seemed to be something of a uniform – black leggings and a pale-pink puffer vest over a matching long-sleeved top. She must have had just about every colour combination, from what Ellie had seen of the woman. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a high ponytail.

  Keeley directed Ellie to the downstairs bathroom, which was off the hallway beside the guest room. There were warm towels on the rack and underfloor heating.

  ‘You hop in and I’ll organise some of Hazel’s clothes for you, darlin’,’ the woman said.

  ‘Th-th-thank – you – Miss-ss-uss – Hendrix,’ Ellie said, her teeth still chattering.

  ‘Oh sweetie – if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times, call me Keeley. Mrs Hendrix is my husband’s mother and I wouldn’t want to be mistaken for that old battle axe. Even though my husband thinks the sun shines out of her – Griffin’s easily fooled.’

  Ellie nodded and headed into the bathroom where she locked the door and stripped off her wet uniform. She placed her bra and underpants on the heated towel rail, hoping they’d dry enough for her to be able to put them back on. Then Ellie turned the shower mixer and waited until the water was steaming hot before she stepped inside. The spray prickled her skin and she felt as if she was quite literally thawing from the inside out like a frozen chicken defrosting in the microwave.

  She couldn’t remember how long she’d been standing there when suddenly the thought occurred to her that she was probably using all her friends’ hot water. That wouldn’t go down well – she knew how much she hated it when Myles ran theirs out. Ellie turned off the taps and stepped out onto the bath mat. She could feel the warmth of the underfloor heating on her toes. It was heavenly. She’d dried herself off and wrapped a towel around her when there was knock on the door.

  ‘Hey, Ellie. I’ve got some clothes for you,’ Hazel said. ‘I hope you’ve got something for me too.’

  Ellie swallowed hard. She’d done what the boys had asked. Surely now they’d trust her. She turned the lock and opened the door just enough for Hazel to pass the things around.

  ‘Thanks,’ Ellie said. ‘I won’t be long.’

  ‘Come up to my room,’ Hazel said.

  It was lucky the two girls were more or less the same size – although Ellie had less meat on her bones. Missing meals could do that – sometimes when food was short she’d give her dinner to Myles. He was always hungry and not eating put him in a tricky mood. Ellie picked up her bra and undies, which she was surprised to find were almost dry.