‘You and your brother get along too.’

  ‘It’s different, Mum – and you know it,’ Ellie said. She narrowed her eyes. It’s true she loved Myles more than anything, but it wasn’t easy. Some days he was a lot to deal with.

  ‘I’m sorry that life’s so disappointing for you, Ellie,’ Juliette said. ‘I promise this wasn’t what I had in mind when I was your age either.’

  Ellie grabbed her bag from her bed. ‘Whatever,’ the girl said and pushed past her mother down the hall to the front door where she didn’t dare turn around. Her mother was not going to see her cry today.

  Ellie linked arms with Hazel as they spilled from the forest trail onto the narrow country road half a mile from the village.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Ellie shouted to Hazel’s twin brother Jake and his friend Liam, who were ahead of the pair.

  ‘You’ll see,’ Jake said, waving his arm and motioning them forwards.

  Ellie had gone to see Hazel at home, but soon enough Jake and Liam had asked the girls if they wanted to join them for a walk in the forest. Ellie hadn’t been that fussed given it was cold and dreary, but Hazel seemed keen. She was regretting her decision not to take Hazel up on her offer to raid the biscuit barrel before they left – and even more than that, she wished she had a warmer coat and a scarf and hat.

  ‘What are you doing for Christmas?’ Hazel asked.

  Ellie felt her stomach tighten. ‘Staying home.’

  ‘Lucky you. We have to go to our grandparents’ place. It’s mega boring. And the food – you’d think Granny was cooking for the whole village. There’s always ham and turkey and pork and roast vegetables and green vegetables and at least three puddings. Honestly, I can’t eat anything for a week afterwards,’ Hazel said.

  Ellie thought it sounded amazing, but she wasn’t about to say so. She could only dream about a Christmas table heaving with treats and gifts piled high around the tree. Hazel, on the other hand, seemed to have it all.

  A black minivan with tinted windows drove past as the group neared the entrance to an estate called Hoxton Manor.

  The boys stopped and stared at the gates, which were adorned with two enormous wreaths.

  ‘This is it,’ Liam said.

  ‘This is what?’ Ellie asked.

  Jake looked at his sister and ran a hand through his dark blond hair. ‘I thought you said you’d told her?’

  Hazel shook her head. ‘No, but Ellie’s cool.’

  The boys stood in a huddle, whispering in hushed tones.

  Liam cast Ellie a glare. ‘We hardly know her.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Ellie asked.

  The boys continued their inaudible discussions and called Hazel over to join them.

  ‘We should give her a test – see if she can be trusted,’ Jake said. But this time Ellie had heard him.

  ‘What about tonight?’ Liam said.

  ‘We can do that on our own with Kane,’ Jake said.

  ‘But anything bigger is going to be tricky,’ Liam added. ‘We’ll need help.’

  The gnawing feeling in Ellie’s stomach was getting worse. Maybe she should make an excuse that she had to get home, but she didn’t want to disappoint Hazel. The girl was the first friend Ellie had made in years.

  When her mother said she’d found a house they could afford in a village called Highton Mill (which Ellie had never heard of), she was angry – not because she was going to miss her friends (she didn’t have any), but because she hated being the weird new kid all the time. It was funny, but the one place her mother said she knew was Hoxton Manor – because her aunt had worked there. The woman died when Ellie was a baby, but they could never drive past the place without Juliette mentioning it.

  They’d moved because her mother had a job at a boutique supermarket that Kennington’s was trialling to see if it could work in other villages. At least the prep school where Myles was going had a special support unit for kids who were neurodiverse – which made life a bit easier for everyone.

  For some reason though, Highton Mill felt different to all the other places they’d lived before. Almost as if they belonged – which made no sense at all. She’d never been there, as far as she could remember.

  ‘Hey,’ Jake said, getting Ellie’s attention.

  She walked over to the group.

  ‘Hazel says you’re cool – but we want to know if that’s true so you’re going to have to prove it,’ Liam said.

  Ellie frowned and bit her lip. She didn’t like the sound of this at all.

  ‘How?’ she asked.

  ‘You know on the counter at Kennington’s they have that donations box,’ Liam explained. ‘The one that people put their spare change in for the poor kids. We need it.’

  ‘What for?’ Ellie asked.

  Liam tilted his head and looked at her. A strand of greasy hair fell across his pimply forehead. ‘For the poor kids, of course.’

  ‘But isn’t that what Kennington’s do – give the money to the needy?’ Ellie asked.

  Liam rolled his eyes and scowled. ‘Yeah, right – as if they do anything for anyone other than themselves. Corporate fat cats – that’s what they are.’

  ‘Yeah, they’re evil – like the guy who owns this place and half the people in this village who don’t care about anyone other than themselves and their bulging wallets,’ Hazel said. ‘It can’t go on – people are starving, you know – there are kids who don’t even get presents at Christmas.’

  Ellie was well aware of that, having been one of those kids herself, but it seemed a strange argument coming from this lot.

  ‘But what if I get caught?’ Ellie asked. It felt as if her stomach was being pulled at either end and tied in a knot like a shoelace.

  ‘That’s the whole point. You don’t,’ Liam said. ‘Unless of course you’re not interested in helping the poor kids.’

  Ellie didn’t know anything about Liam, but she was pretty sure Hazel and Jake weren’t poor – certainly not in the ‘I haven’t eaten all day and the blanket on my bed is threadbare’ kind of way. Maybe they thought that if you didn’t get an overseas holiday every year that counted as being destitute. Ellie could attest to that not being the case. She’d only ever been on holiday once in her entire life – to stay in a caravan by the sea that was owned by someone her mother knew. It was tiny but she’d loved it and would give anything to get the chance to do something like that again.

  ‘So why do I have to prove myself to you? What’s that about?’ Ellie asked.

  ‘All in good time, Princess, all in good time,’ Jake replied, mysteriously.

  Ellie swallowed hard. She wasn’t a thief. But if she didn’t do what they asked then that was it – she’d be on her own again.

  ‘So when do you want it?’ Ellie asked. The late afternoon air was bone chilling, but so was the thought of what they’d asked her to do.

  ‘Let’s meet up again the day after tomorrow. If you’ve got the box, then we’ll let you know what the mission entails,’ Liam said, flicking his stringy hair over his shoulder.

  ‘Okay, James Bond, can’t wait to hear what you’re up to,’ Ellie said. She tried to sound tough, but her insides were turning to jelly.

  Ellie looked at Hazel, her eyes pleading. She wanted the girl to throw her head back and laugh and say that it was all just a joke, but she didn’t.

  ‘You can do it, El – I know you can,’ Hazel said.

  But that wasn’t how she felt at all.

  Having collected Sep, Lucas and Neville from Fayle School for Boys on the other side of the village, the children were soon on the road to Highton Mill. The weather had improved considerably, although the forecast for the next few days wasn’t terribly good. There was plenty to do, regardless. Cecelia had promised Alice-Miranda some surprises too.

  ‘Has anyone got anything special they’d like to add to the plans for the next few days?’ Alice-Miranda asked from her seat behind Mr Greening.

  ‘Shopping, please,’ Millie said. ‘I still have quite a few gifts I need to get.’

  ‘Perfect,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘I’ve got to buy a few things myself.’

  There was a murmur of agreement from the others.

  Jacinta opened a bag of jelly snakes and passed them to Lucas, who handed them back to Sep and Neville behind them. ‘So what’s everyone getting for Christmas?’ Lucas asked.

  ‘I’m hoping for a new mountain bike,’ Neville said.

  ‘Cool, me too,’ Sep said with a nod.

  ‘Awesome! We can go riding together,’ Neville replied. He and his parents lived quite close to the Sykes’s villa in the northern suburbs of Barcelona (their parents were in business together – the Sykes’s developing properties and the Nordstroms in earthmoving), so the boys and Sloane often got to hang out in the holidays. Sloane thought Neville’s parents were adorable, unlike her own mother who spent most of her time sunbathing and recovering from minor cosmetic surgery procedures.

  ‘Are you getting a bike as well, Sloane?’ Neville asked the girl.

  She shook her head. ‘I was hoping for a surfboard.’

  ‘That sounds like fun,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘What about you, Jacinta?’

  ‘Mummy said that she’s planning to take me to Fashion Week in Paris next year, so I haven’t really asked her for anything because I know that’s going to be expensive,’ the girl replied. ‘It would be amazing to see it again – maybe without all the drama that we had last time.’

  A while back, the children, as members of the Winchester-Fayle Singers, travelled to Paris to take part in one of the fashion shows – though the trip turned out to have more twists and turns than a rollercoaster.

  ‘What about you, Caprice?’ Jacinta asked.

  The girl took a deep breath. ‘Well . . . I’ve got quite a long list. A gold pendant and matching earrings for a start, and there’s this dress I’ve had my eye on for ages which will be perfect for next year’s National Eisteddfod, and makeup – proper stage makeup for my performances – and a voucher to go to the nail salon in Downsfordvale during term time and . . .’ She stopped and realised Millie was staring. Caprice took a deep breath. ‘Truly, I don’t mind what I get. What about you, Millie?’

  ‘A new tennis racquet,’ she said. ‘And some trainers.’

  ‘All I want for Christmas is my family and friends to be together having a wonderful time,’ Alice-Miranda said.

  ‘Sure thing, little Miss Perfect,’ Lucas scoffed. ‘What do you really want?’

  ‘Nothing,’ the girl shook her head.

  ‘Not buying it,’ Lucas retorted. ‘There must be something you’d like.’

  Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘I suppose there is one thing I’ve thought would be nice.’

  There was a pregnant pause.

  ‘Out with it,’ Millie demanded as the bag of snakes made its way back to the front of the bus and Mr Greening helped himself to the last one.

  ‘I’d like a book,’ Alice-Miranda said.

  ‘A book? That sounds boring,’ Sloane quipped.

  ‘Which book?’ Millie asked.

  ‘I’m not sure, really – just something special that I haven’t read before,’ Alice-Miranda said, then promptly changed the subject. ‘Oh look, we’re almost home.’

  The bus was approaching Hoxton Manor, a stately pile owned by a businessman called Elliot Turner, which was not terribly far from Highton Hall. He and Alice-Miranda’s parents were friends, but she’d only ever met him on a handful of occasions.

  Alice-Miranda noticed a group of teens about the same age as her friends walking along the side of the road. There were two girls and two boys. All of them were wearing heavy coats and boots, except for one of the girls with long dark hair who looked as if she could have done with a warmer coat along with a scarf and hat.

  ‘Look at those wreaths on the gates!’ Britt said as they passed the entrance to the driveway. ‘They’re gorgeous.’

  ‘Mummy says that Hoxton Manor is one of the most beautiful homes she’s ever seen,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  ‘It must be stunning then, because yours isn’t too shabby either,’ Jacinta said.

  ‘I haven’t seen it in person, but perhaps one day I’ll be lucky enough to get an invitation,’ Alice-Miranda said.

  Britt Fox was excited to see Alice-Miranda’s family home. The girls had told her a lot about the estate, but she couldn’t quite imagine the size of it or the grandeur.

  The bus continued past another set of gates – but these were modern, made of thick black steel. There was no seeing what was behind them. Security cameras perched on top of the posts.

  ‘Who lives there?’ Millie asked, pointing.

  ‘I’m not sure. Mummy and Daddy said that the house was only finished a year or so ago and it’s all a bit mysterious. They’ve never met the owners,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘It’s called Loff’s Folly, but we don’t know who Loff is or why it’s their folly.’

  ‘I guess some people just like their privacy,’ Lucas said.

  ‘Maybe they’re famous like your father,’ Sloane said. ‘And sick of being stalked by the paparazzi.’

  ‘Or they’re criminal masterminds and up to something really dodgy and that’s their hideout,’ Neville added.

  ‘Listen to all of you crime writers in the making,’ Millie said with a chuckle.

  A little further along, they drove by a row of tiny, terraced houses on the opposite side of the road. The dwellings all looked as if they’d seen better days.

  ‘I thought your village was supposed to be one of the best kept in the country,’ Caprice said, wrinkling her nose as they passed the sign that announced they’d arrived on the outskirts of Highton Mill. ‘Those places need a bulldozer through them.’

  It was true that the row of semi-detached houses wasn’t in the best state. Some of the slates on the rooves were missing and there was plenty of peeling paint.

  ‘Yes, you’d think that, wouldn’t you, Caprice?’ Mr Greening said. He was enjoying listening to the children’s banter, but her comment had raised his hackles a little. ‘Except that then there’d be a whole lot of families that would have nowhere to live.’

  ‘But can’t they renovate?’ the girl said. ‘And get rid of all that junk. It looks so . . . ugly – compared to everything else.’

  ‘Not everyone has the money,’ Millie said. ‘Renovations cost a fortune – I know because my parents did some a while back and they’re still complaining about the cost.’

  ‘What about your parents, Alice-Miranda? Couldn’t they pay to fix them up? They’re rich,’ Caprice said.

  The minivan slowed down to turn left into the gates at Highton Hall.

  Alice-Miranda bit her lip. Maybe she could ask her parents if they could do something.

  Mr Greening intervened. ‘Hugh and Cecelia are very generous to the community here – and they have always known that with great privilege comes great responsibility,’ the man said. ‘But they can’t fix everything. People are proud too and rightly so.’

  Still, Caprice’s comment had got Alice-Miranda thinking.

  ‘Isn’t that your house, Mr Greening?’ Sloane asked as they drove past the gatehouse at the entrance to the property.

  ‘It’s tiny,’ Caprice said, then added as an afterthought. ‘But cute.’

  ‘Aye, I was born in the front room,’ the man said. ‘Mrs Greening and I raised four sons in that house and we got on just fine,’ the man replied. ‘It’s not the size of the house that matters but the people inside of it.’

  ‘Are the boys coming home for Christmas?’ Alice-Miranda asked. The Greenings’ sons were all grown up these days and had families of their own. But none of them lived close – in fact three of them were overseas.

  ‘Not this year – it’s the in-laws’ turns. Mrs Greening and I are looking forward to a quiet time at home – though I suspect your mother will have something to say about that.’

  Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘I know she will. If anyone is here at Christmas, then they’re at our dinner table – no arguments.’

  Harold Greening steered the van through another set of ornate gates along a broad avenue of oaks. In the distance, the chimney pots of Highton Hall stood tall against the grey sky.

  ‘Wow!’ Britt gasped. Caprice did too. It was the first time she’d been to Highton Hall as well.

  ‘Are you sure you’re not actually a princess?’ Britt asked, giving her friend a smile.

  Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘You know I’m not. Look – there’s Shilly and Mrs Greening and Mrs Oliver.’

  The three women were standing on the steps by the side entrance. Dolly Oliver, with her helmet of brown curls, had a tea towel slung over her shoulder. She looked as if she’d just abandoned the washing-up to meet them.

  ‘I still can’t believe how much Mrs OIiver looks like Aunty Gee,’ Millie said. ‘Or vice versa.’

  Alice-Miranda grinned at her friend. ‘Although I’m sure you wouldn’t get the two of them mixed up these days.’

  ‘Don’t remind me,’ Millie said. ‘I can’t believe that I mistook the queen for Mrs Oliver’s sister – what a twit.’

  ‘Oh, I think that’s one of the reasons Aunty Gee loves you a lot, Millie – you’ve always treated her like a regular person, which she much prefers to being fussed over,’ Alice-Miranda said.

  The vehicle had barely come to a stop before Alice-Miranda was out the door. After hugging all three women, Cecelia Highton-Smith appeared, apologising for just having got off the phone.

  ‘Hello, my darling,’ the woman said, lifting her daughter into the air and spinning her around. She peppered the child’s face with kisses. ‘I’m so glad you’re home.’

  ‘Hello, Mummy,’ Alice-Miranda said, then realised that she’d left everyone in the van. ‘Oops, I’ve quite forgotten my manners.’