‘That’s what you said last year – just before you hired that fellow Bobby – the one who reminds me of a labrador,’ Trevor said.

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, mate, but that’s the way it is. Dorian might have to keep grave digging for a while yet,’ Griff said. Truth be told he would never give that deadbeat kid of Trevor’s a job. And if he could get rid of Trevor, he would. Problem was he was vaguely related by marriage to the family who owned the company and the last thing Griff needed was for them to start questioning his judgement.

  But Griff was sure that Trevor was right about Bobby – at least that’s what he hoped. He needed someone to expand the business and he seemed like just the guy. Bobby didn’t ask questions and went about his work without a complaint. Not one squeak when he had to drive two weeks without a rest day either – unlike others who were always having a whinge. He had a good feeling that things were back on track. They’d better be. There were people relying on him – people he couldn’t afford to upset. Not least of which was his wife and children. And even more so, the man at the top.

  Cecelia Highton-Smith pulled up in the driveway at Accident and Emergency. A single length of silver tinsel surrounded the entrance doors to the hospital with a piece of plastic holly taped up above. Alice-Miranda helped Caprice out of the car and the two girls walked into the waiting room while her mother found a parking spot. Fortunately, there was only a couple of other people inside; an older chap with a nasty hacking cough and a pregnant woman who seemed quite fine, though her partner was panting like a dog.

  A sad-looking Christmas tree adorned with a handful of silver baubles stood in one corner. Alice-Miranda decided that next year their local hospital should be in line to receive some of the Highton’s ex-display decorations. Perhaps she and her mother could come and help put it all together. No one wanted to be in hospital at Christmas – the least they could do would be to make the place feel more festive.

  Caprice was a gruesome sight with patches of dried blood all over her face. Her jumper and jeans hadn’t escaped the drenching either. Fortunately, the tide had stopped flowing although there was still the odd clot dribbling from her nose. Alice-Miranda was carrying a box of tissues and collecting the used ones in a plastic bag.

  A kindly nurse with a bright smile walked out from behind the reception desk to greet the pair.

  ‘Hello, girls,’ she said, then turned her attention to Caprice. ‘You look as if you’ve been in the wars.’

  ‘You should see the other guy,’ Alice-Miranda said with a grin.

  The woman chuckled then considered Caprice’s face. ‘Is it just your nose, dear?’ she asked.

  Caprice nodded. ‘I think so.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve quite forgotten my manners,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘I’m Alice-Miranda Highton-Smith-Kennington-Jones and this is my friend Caprice Radford,’ she said, offering her hand.

  The nurse took it, then smiled and exclaimed, ‘You’re Cecelia’s little girl! I’m Dotti. It’s lovely to see you. I was your mother’s home-care nurse after you were born. You were such a darling baby. I don’t think I’ve ever met another with quite your temperament. Born with a smile on your wee face and barely a whimper in all the times I saw you. I ran into your mother in the village a while back and she said that you were practically grown up and at boarding school. And here you are – just look at you.’

  Caprice tapped her foot. ‘Excuse me – hello?’ she said pointedly.

  ‘Sorry, dear. I’ll get you into one of the examination suites,’ Dotti said. ‘You can come too, Alice-Miranda, although is there an adult with you? I’ll need to get the paperwork sorted once the doctor comes.’

  ‘Mummy’s parking the car,’ the child replied as Cecelia Highton-Smith walked through the automatic doors.

  ‘Hello, hello,’ Dotti greeted the woman.

  The pair hugged and Caprice tapped her foot again. ‘Sorry to break up another lovely reunion,’ she said, ‘but I’m still here – with my broken face.’

  The women parted and Dotti led Caprice with Alice-Miranda and her mother in tow down the corridor to a small examination area.

  ‘Dr Babbage will be with you in a minute,’ she said, dragging the curtain around the bed. She hurried out to take care of a mother who had just arrived with a screaming baby.

  Caprice hadn’t yet seen herself in a mirror. She’d realised there was one in the room and was about to take a look when the doctor interrupted her.

  A tall woman wearing beige trousers, a sensible blue shirt and a white coat appeared through the gap in the curtains and announced herself.

  ‘Now, who do we have here?’ she asked.

  Alice-Miranda’s mother took care of the introductions and said that she was acting in the capacity of Caprice’s guardian.

  ‘And what have you done to yourself?’ The woman bent down to peer at Caprice’s face.

  Alice-Miranda explained about the banister challenge and that Caprice was clearly going to break the record when the mishap occurred. But the doctor wanted to hear it from Caprice and suggested Alice-Miranda might like to go and get herself a hot chocolate from the cafeteria.

  It was probably a good thing, given that the minute she left and Dr Babbage touched Caprice’s nose all hell broke loose.

  Alice-Miranda trotted down the corridor. She made a left turn as directed and followed the signs down another long hallway past several wards. A male orderly with arms like Christmas hams effortlessly pushed an empty bed past her and there were several nurses darting in and out of rooms, answering patient calls. It was such a busy place. Alice-Miranda remembered her own time in the children’s hospital after her horse-riding accident and how kind everyone had been. Ever since then, she’d been thinking about whether she might become a doctor one day – although she’d have to study extremely hard to win a place at university.

  She arrived at the cafeteria to find it almost empty. Alice-Miranda ordered herself a hot chocolate and sat down at one of the tables. There was an elderly lady with a mop of curly white hair and a middle-aged man who looked like he could have been her son, having a hushed conversation in one corner of the glassed-in room. Another well-dressed man with salt and pepper hair was sitting at the table beside her, nursing a mug in both hands.

  He looked up and smiled and it was then that Alice-Miranda realised that she vaguely knew him.

  ‘Excuse me, sir, are you Mr Turner?’ the girl asked.

  He tilted his head to the side questioningly. ‘Yes, I’m Elliot Turner but to whom do I have the pleasure of making my acquaintance?’

  Alice-Miranda introduced herself in the usual way.

  ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘We’ve met a couple of times before, haven’t we?’

  The girl nodded. ‘I think you came to Mummy’s garden party a few years ago. But I have grown since then. Are you visiting someone?’

  ‘Yes, one of my employees. She had an emergency appendectomy yesterday. Gave us all quite a fright. But she’s going to be fine. I just stepped out while the doctor was doing his rounds,’ the man explained. ‘What about you?’

  ‘One of my friends is in A and E with Mummy. She fell off the banister rail at home – we were having a time-trial race,’ the child said. ‘Caprice was the last one. She was going to win but then she lost her balance and fell and hit her nose.’

  Elliot Turner’s eyes widened. ‘Goodness, that sounds drastic,’ he said. ‘And quite good fun too – apart from the fall.’

  Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘It’s the best. I think Caprice will be fine, though I suspect her nose might be broken and she’s rather attached to it the way it is. I don’t blame her – it’s a very nice nose. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much blood in my life although my best friend Millie said that there was a river when I fell off my naughty Bonaparte and hit my head – I was unconscious, so I didn’t see it. Head injuries are like that, aren’t they?’

  Elliot Turner seemed to shudder. ‘Yes,’ he said vaguely, as if remembering something horribly unpleasant.

  Alice-Miranda didn’t want to pry. ‘We drove past your gates today on the way home from school. Your Christmas wreaths are gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any more beautiful.’

  Elliot smiled. ‘Why, thank you. Sebastian and his team have done an incredible job this year. I’m thrilled to bits.’

  ‘Do you mean Mr Smote?’ Alice-Miranda asked. ‘Mummy had him do the decorations for Granny’s birthday last year after he was recommended by Lady Clarissa Appleby from Penberthy House Hotel. I think he used to specialise in weddings, but now he’s doing lots of other parties too. He’s fun.’

  ‘Indeed, he is,’ Elliot said, smiling at the child.

  ‘We’re decorating the tree at home tomorrow, then on Friday I’m very excited to be taking all my friends to the Christmas light ceremony in Highton Mill,’ the child explained. ‘I love it when the whole village comes together – it’s especially fun seeing all the little children. My cousins are due to arrive soon; they love everything about Christmas – except mince pies.’

  There was suddenly a faraway look in Elliot’s eyes. ‘Yes, you’re right. Christmas is always lovelier with children.’

  ‘Do you have grandchildren, Mr Turner?’ the child asked.

  Elliot’s face fell as if he had just plummeted back to earth. ‘No.’

  Alice-Miranda realised she had probably said too much. ‘I’m sorry – that’s none of my business. I tend to ask far too many questions. I hope I’m not turning into Mrs Parker – she’s working in the office at my school at the moment and she’s a bit nosy. I really need to think before I open my mouth – it’s a problem.’

  Elliot’s smile returned. ‘Please don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re only how old?’

  ‘I’ll be twelve in a few months,’ she said. ‘But most of my friends are turning fifteen or more. I’ve always been a bit old for my years – though it’s funny because the older I get, the less sure I am about so many things. It’s easy to see the world in black and white when you’re young. But then you realise that it’s really so many shades of grey. Everyone sees things from a different perspective, and I know that mine is a very privileged one.’

  ‘Goodness – are you sure you’re not actually an elderly woman inhabiting the body of a nearly twelve-year-old?’ the man replied with a chuckle.

  Alice-Miranda shrugged, then sipped her hot chocolate that had cooled considerably since the start of their discussion.

  There was a dull buzzing and Alice-Miranda realised it was a telephone ringing.

  ‘I think that must be yours,’ she said, pointing at his jacket when he hadn’t responded.

  ‘Oh,’ the man pulled a phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. ‘I’ll call them back.’

  ‘Feel free to take it. I don’t want to hold you up and I probably should get going,’ the girl said. ‘Have a very happy Christmas, Mr Turner. It was lovely to see you,’ the child said and skipped away down the hall.

  Elliot Turner stared at Alice-Miranda as she disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall, then brushed a tear from his eye. But she’d got him thinking. Sebastian Smote might have assumed he was done working on the Highton Hall decorations, but Elliot had other ideas.

  Alice-Miranda, Cecelia and Caprice were on their way home by eight. Thankfully, Caprice’s nose wasn’t broken – just badly bruised. The doctor said that when the swelling went down she’d be as lovely as ever, which seemed to improve the girl’s mood exponentially.

  ‘I must call your mother and let her know that you’re okay,’ Cecelia said.

  ‘No, please don’t worry. I’ll speak to her,’ Caprice said. She pulled out her phone and dialled the number, telling the woman what had happened before hanging up rather quickly.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Cecelia asked, glancing at the girl in the rear-vision mirror. ‘Would you like me to follow up and have a longer chat with Venetia?’

  ‘No,’ Caprice snapped, then softened. ‘She’s very busy with work – that’s why she couldn’t really talk, but she’s not worried. She knows I’m fine. You shouldn’t bother her. She gets very stressed. She doesn’t need to be thinking about me on top of everything else.’

  Alice-Miranda had a strange feeling about Caprice’s conversation. The other night at school she’d been so upset that her mother had to work and now, even after a trip to the hospital, she didn’t appear to be bothered at all. Something didn’t sit right, but for the moment Alice-Miranda was keen to get home and find Millie. The last thing she wanted was for her friend to be upset.

  Cecelia pulled into the portico outside the side entrance to the kitchen.

  ‘Now, Caprice, you need to go straight up and have a shower and then hop into bed. Leave your clothes in the bathroom and we’ll soak them overnight. Shilly will no doubt have something magic to get rid of the blood stains. I’ll bring supper for you – probably just soup, I think. How does that sound?’ Cecelia asked.

  Caprice nodded. ‘Lovely, thank you.’

  ‘Are you okay to go up on your own?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  The girl nodded.

  ‘Oh, hello ladies,’ Mrs Oliver chirped from around the corner where she was packing the dishwasher. ‘The children are in the lounge playing charades. Everyone was pleased to hear you’re all right, Caprice.’

  ‘I’ll bet not everyone was,’ Caprice mumbled, then headed for the back stairs.

  Cecelia and Alice-Miranda both heard her.

  ‘You’ll have to get Millie and Caprice together, darling,’ Cecelia said. ‘It’s not in the spirit of Christmas for them to be fighting.’

  Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘I’ll do my best but I’m afraid they can both be stubborn. If Caprice has played a role in the upset, then I suspect she’ll apologise. I was very clear about her not being unkind to anyone while she’s here, although I don’t think I could stand to send her back to school to be on her own. It doesn’t seem fair.’

  ‘I’m sure that it won’t come to that,’ Cecelia said. ‘Besides, your friends are only staying for five days and then everyone will be headed home for Christmas.’

  ‘As long as the weather they’re forecasting doesn’t eventuate,’ Mrs Oliver said. The television was on in the corner of the kitchen with the sound muted. ‘I’ve been listening to the news and apparently there’s a system on its way that’s likely to blanket the country from top to bottom in the thickest snow we’ll have seen in years. It will make for some lovely pictures but will definitely put a dent in everyone’s travel plans.’

  Dolly ladled thick pumpkin soup from the stove into a bowl and set it down on a tray next to a crusty bread roll and a knob of butter. She placed a chocolate brownie on another plate beside it, along with a glass of iced water with lemon and mint.

  ‘I’ll take that, Dolly,’ Cecelia said. ‘Have you seen Hugh? He’s been practically invisible since the children arrived.’

  ‘Mr Kennington-Jones left a few hours ago,’ Dolly explained. ‘He said that he had some urgent business to attend to at the office, but that he shouldn’t be long.’

  ‘What’s the matter, Mummy?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  Cecelia shook her head. ‘I’m not sure. I’ll give him a call once I’ve delivered Caprice’s dinner. Why don’t you head off and find the others, then come back and have something to eat too?’

  Alice-Miranda agreed. She was feeling a bit hungry, but she really wanted to see Millie first.

  ‘Are you happy with soup, darling girl?’ Mrs Oliver asked. ‘I can make you something else if you’d prefer, but I’m afraid your friends devoured the ham and salad I made. I’m not used to feeding hungry teenagers – especially those boys. They must all have hollow legs.’

  ‘Soup is perfect, thank you,’ Alice-Miranda replied.

  And with that, she hurried away to find the others. Sloane was standing in the middle of the room acting something out that looked as if she may have been on the toilet, but it was hard to tell.

  ‘You’re back!’ Jacinta yelled, ruining Sloane’s turn at charades, which turned out to be toasting marshmallows around a campfire.

  ‘How’s Caprice?’ Lucas asked. He was sitting on the couch beside Jacinta, while Sep and Chessie were looking quite cosy. Neville was perched on the floor.

  ‘She’s going to be fine. Nothing broken – just some swelling. It should settle down in a few days,’ Alice-Miranda explained.

  Millie was slouched on the couch on the other side of the room on her own. ‘I’m not apologising to her. I didn’t do anything wrong.’

  ‘She’s convinced you were mocking her,’ Alice-Miranda said.

  ‘Well, I wasn’t,’ Millie said. ‘She’s so sensitive.’

  An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.

  ‘What?’ Millie eyeballed her friends one at a time.

  ‘You can be a bit sensitive too sometimes, Millie,’ Lucas said. Jacinta grabbed his arm and gave it a squeeze, knowing that the comment would not go down well with the girl.

  ‘What?’ Millie barked. ‘Are you kidding? Caprice is horrible. She always tries to blame me for everything and now you’re taking her side. I can’t believe it. You all know what she’s like and then she put on this big fake act, so we’d let her come along, and now her true colours have come out already.’

  Millie’s face was almost the same shade as her red hair.

  ‘Calm down, Millie,’ Sloane said.

  Millie had always been known for her somewhat fiery temper – she was once in terrible trouble at school for dumping her dessert over Sloane’s head (admittedly the girl probably deserved it), but lately Millie had been crosser than usual. Sloane and Jacinta had discussed it and Chessie had mentioned that it didn’t take much to get her back up.

  Alice-Miranda was worried. Maybe it was hormones and the fact that they were all growing up, but it didn’t make life easy. Walking on eggshells around Caprice was bad enough – they didn’t want to have to do it with Millie too.

  ‘Millie, can we talk – upstairs?’ Alice-Miranda asked. She thought it was probably a better idea if they continued their discussion in private.