Millie stood up. ‘Fine,’ she said and thundered out of the room towards the staircase.

  Alice-Miranda could feel everyone’s eyes on them, but she didn’t turn around.

  The two girls made their way to Alice-Miranda’s room.

  Millie jumped up onto the bed but before Alice-Miranda could say another word she started to cry. Great big gulping sobs.

  ‘Oh, Millie, whatever’s the matter?’ Alice-Miranda hopped up beside her and put her arm around the girl. ‘This isn’t like you at all.’

  There was no stopping Millie for the next few minutes. Alice-Miranda decided the only thing she could do was hug her friend as tightly as possible and hope that she started to feel better. A good hearty cry often had that effect.

  After a time, Millie’s racking sobs began to subside.

  ‘Is this about Caprice?’ Alice-Miranda asked.

  ‘I’m sorry. That was ridiculous,’ Millie said.

  Alice-Miranda shook her head. ‘No, it wasn’t. We all get upset about things from time to time. But was that about Caprice?’

  ‘Not exactly. I hate that I’ve become so difficult – I know I get mad about things at times, but am I really that bad?’ Millie asked.

  Alice-Miranda bit her lip. ‘Sometimes. But is it just that?’

  Millie shook her head. ‘Grandpa has to go to hospital to have some tests tomorrow. Mrs Oliver mentioned it earlier and then realised that I didn’t know. She asked me not to say anything to anyone. So between Caprice and what everyone said before, and the idea that Grandpa could be sick, I lost it.’

  ‘You have every right to,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘Is it serious?’

  ‘I don’t know. When I asked Mrs Oliver, she clammed up. You know when grown-ups tell you half of something and then you know there’s more going on. I don’t want to ask my parents, because Mrs Oliver thought they’d told me and when she realised they hadn’t then she was feeling bad too – as if she’d betrayed a secret.’

  Dolly Oliver had been married to Millie’s grandfather’s best friend Dougal for many years before he sadly passed away. In recent times, Ambrose and Dolly had grown close – often going on outings together and generally enjoying each other’s company. The man only lived a couple of miles away. Millie had wondered if perhaps the pair would get married one day, but it didn’t seem likely as they were both getting on in years and hadn’t made any progress in that department.

  ‘Why don’t you give your grandfather a call?’ Alice-Miranda suggested. ‘You can use the phone in Mummy’s study. No one will be there.’

  Millie nodded. ‘I will,’ she said, wiping her face with the back of her sleeve before plucking a tissue from the box on the bedside table and blowing her nose.

  ‘And I’ll make peace with the beast – I mean Caprice,’ Millie said. ‘I promise I wasn’t mocking her, but I suppose I can see how she thought that. I meant it when I said that she’d always be beautiful and I suppose when she said that I’d never be, it stung. She’s right, though. I’ll always be the ugly duckling of our group and I have to learn to be okay with it.’

  Alice-Miranda frowned at her friend. ‘There is nothing ugly about you, Millie. You’re lovely – on the inside and out.’

  ‘You’re just trying to make me feel better, but I’ll never be the girl who gets the boy. I mean you had Sep and Neville fighting over you in Egypt and you didn’t even realise. Now I think Sep likes Chessie,’ Millie said with a sigh.

  Alice-Miranda bit her lip. ‘Do you like Sep?’ She slid off the side of her bed onto the floor and turned around, looking back at her friend who was propped up against the mountain of pillows.

  Millie rolled her eyes and grinned. ‘I don’t know how you’ve missed that, but yes. Trouble is, he doesn’t even know I’m alive.’

  Alice-Miranda giggled. ‘I’m sorry, Millie – when it comes to matters of the heart, I’m totally clueless. Except for Jacinta and Lucas, but that’s because they’re practically an old married couple.’

  ‘Anyway, I need to go and call Grandpa, and hopefully he’s okay, then I’ll see Caprice and I promise there won’t be any fireworks. I’ll be my usual charming self and prove to everyone that the old cliché about redheads and fiery tempers is absolutely not true,’ Millie said, hopping down off the bed.

  Alice-Miranda reached out and hugged her. ‘I meant what I said about you being beautiful, Millie – one day you’ll see.’

  Millie smiled back. ‘How did I ever get lucky enough to have you as my best friend?’

  Alice-Miranda bit her lip. ‘I’m the lucky one,’ she replied as Millie turned and headed out the door and down the hall to Cecelia’s study.

  Ellie rolled over and pulled the duvet up around her frozen ears. She could feel the cold quite literally leaching through the walls, but that was only one of the reasons she had no desire to get out of bed. No doubt her mother would be at the door soon, telling her to hurry up.

  Sleep hadn’t come easily and, when it finally did, Ellie had the most frightful nightmares. Something about being caught stealing. Perhaps it wasn’t a dream, but a prophecy.

  She’d stayed at Hazel’s for an hour or so after they walked back from the mansion gates. The boys headed to Liam’s house and Ellie was glad they left. There was something about Liam that made her think of a weasel or an otter. Maybe it was his greasy hair and whiskery face – he didn’t have a proper beard or anything, just a horrible fuzz that happened to pubescent boys of a certain age.

  When Ellie had tried to talk to Hazel about the moneybox, the girl parroted everything the boys had said about rich people having all the money and power, and poor people having nothing. That it wasn’t right. Ellie didn’t disagree, but stealing wasn’t right either. She’d turned the idea over and over in her mind last night for hours and despite feeling sick at the thought, there was something about Hazel that made her determined to do it anyway. The girl was the kind of friend Ellie had dreamed of for years. Besides, Ellie knew better than any of them what it was like to be properly poor.

  A sharp knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

  ‘Ellie, you have to get up. You’ll be late for school,’ her mother said.

  ‘Coming,’ the girl called back. It was better to shout, or her mother would come in. Ellie had been tossing up when to go to Kennington’s. She could do it before school on the way to the bus stop or afterwards when she got home. That would probably be safer. Her mother was working the late shift, which might be helpful. If she got caught, she could probably talk her way out of it – say that the box had fallen off the counter into her bag or something like that. Juliette wouldn’t be happy, but she wouldn’t call the police.

  Despite having let her mother know she was awake, the door opened anyway and Juliette poked her head around. ‘Morning, honey.’

  ‘I said I was coming,’ Ellie snapped.

  Juliette opened her mouth, then paused and swallowed whatever it was she was going to say. ‘I bet you’re happy there’s only a couple more days of school left.’ She waited for a reply but when she didn’t get one, she added, ‘I’ve got bacon for breakfast.’

  ‘How come? Did some poor unfortunate piggy wander into the kitchen?’ Ellie said and pushed back the covers, gasping as the cold air seeped straight through her cotton pyjamas.

  ‘Mr Withers let me buy a packet that was past its use-by date – half price,’ her mother replied.

  ‘He made you buy it,’ Ellie said sarcastically. ‘He should have given it to you.’

  ‘He can’t do that. He’s just the manager,’ Juliette said.

  ‘Wouldn’t we be better off spending what little money we have on some heat? You know we could quite literally freeze to death in this place,’ Ellie said.

  ‘I’m getting it sorted,’ her mother replied. ‘I promise. The landlord’s coming to take a look at the boiler tonight and maybe after school you and Myles could go to the woods and collect some pine cones for the fire.’

  ‘It’s been raining for weeks, Mum. Everything’s soaked,’ Ellie said. ‘We need a proper load of timber – and I’m not taking care of Myles. He’s always the neediest after school. You promised when we came here that I wouldn’t have to do that anymore.’

  Her mother nodded. ‘I’m trying, Ellie – please. Things will get better. I can’t afford to have him in after-school care every day – not yet.’

  Ellie let out a deep breath that almost turned to ice in front of her. She grabbed the towel that was hanging over the bed rail. It was still damp from yesterday.

  ‘Is there hot water?’ Ellie demanded.

  ‘I didn’t have a shower,’ her mother replied, then bit her lip. ‘But your brother’s been in.’

  Ellie’s shoulders slumped. If she didn’t get to the bathroom before Myles, then she knew the outcome – unless by some miracle the water heater had suddenly increased to twice the size. Her brother would stay in the shower for exactly ten minutes – Myles had this stupid timer and no matter how hard she or her mother tried to convince him that three minutes would suffice, he was not to be deterred. They weren’t even sure where the ten-minute obsession had come from, but it was just another of Myles’s quirks. Ellie loved her brother – but there were times that she would happily have traded him for a cat.

  ‘Go and see. The boiler might have warmed up again,’ Juliette said.

  ‘Seriously, Mum – there’s really more chance of you actually slaughtering a pig.’

  Juliette reached out to touch her daughter, but Ellie pushed past her and ran down the hall.

  ‘I hate you, Myles,’ Ellie shouted as she wrenched the taps on and felt the gush of freezing water.

  The children were seated around the kitchen table enjoying a hearty breakfast of eggs, sausages, bacon, hash browns, tomatoes and toast. Outside, a fierce wind whipped through the trees and whistled along the verandas, but at least the rain that had come down in buckets last night had stopped for now. Mrs Oliver was regaling them with a tale of another brazen robbery of Christmas decorations she’d heard on the early morning news. This time from the village hall at Penberthy Floss – which was just a couple of miles away. ‘It’s a nasty business,’ the woman said as she spooned another batch of scrambled eggs into a bowl to replace the one that was now empty. ‘Stealing Christmas decorations – what a miserable lot those thieves must be.’

  ‘Either that or their house will have the best Christmas display in town,’ Alice-Miranda said. She glanced over at Millie, who was sitting opposite Caprice. Thankfully, the pair had made their peace last night. Millie had told her all about it when she came to bed. After speaking to her grandfather, which turned out to be far less worrisome than first thought, Millie had gone to Caprice’s room where she found the girl in a bit of a mess – quite literally. Caprice had accidentally up-ended her bowl of soup on the duvet and the floor and there was a little bit on her pillow too, and she was desperately trying to clean it up. Millie told Alice-Miranda that Caprice thought Mrs Shillingsworth would be cross. Millie tried to convince her that a half a bowl of spilled soup would be the least of Shilly’s worries. She offered to help her and the pair sorted their differences over a mop and bucket and a change of sheets. As Millie had predicted, Shilly wasn’t upset at all and, on the contrary, was most impressed with their efforts.

  Alice-Miranda was pleased to hear that although Millie still had misgivings, she was determined to give Caprice the benefit of the doubt. Caprice admitted that she may have misread the situation when she had her accident, which Alice-Miranda thought was a big breakthrough. Self-awareness wasn’t one of the girl’s stronger suits. Millie said that she’d apologised if she’d sounded sarcastic, which she hadn’t meant to be.

  All round it was a good result and there was more positive news about Millie’s grandfather too. Apparently, he’d been having some tummy troubles and was booked in for a top and tail – a colonoscopy and gastroscopy. Millie said that her grandfather admitted he shouldn’t have been so mysterious about things when he was talking to Mrs Oliver, but he didn’t like the idea of having a camera poking about in his bottom. Understandable, really, and no point worrying until he had the results.

  Cecelia and Hugh were yet to join the group. Alice-Miranda hadn’t seen her father for more than five minutes since she’d arrived, but this morning she was planning to pin him down. They were all supposed to be trimming the tree together after breakfast then, depending on the weather, Alice-Miranda thought they could go for a walk to the village for a spot of Christmas shopping.

  ‘More bacon, anyone?’ Dolly asked, as she transferred rashers from the frypan to the plate in the middle of the table.

  ‘Yes, please,’ Neville said, as he tucked in. ‘Your bacon is the best, Mrs Oliver.’

  Hands swooped in from all directions and seconds later, the entire lot was gone. ‘Thank you, Neville, but I’m sure it’s no better than what you get at school these days,’ the woman said.

  Lucas swallowed the piece of egg on his fork and looked up. ‘Are you kidding? Our cook is a nightmare. I’m not sure where Professor Winter-bottom dug her up.’

  ‘Dug her up is right,’ Sep said. ‘I think she’s older than our step-granny, and Henrietta is getting on a bit. She suggested that we might like to have an offal night – for fun.’

  ‘That sounds absolutely offal,’ Jacinta said in an American accent causing a collective groan around the table.

  ‘I don’t believe that for a second,’ Dolly said with a chuckle.

  ‘It’s true,’ Neville said. ‘I was there. She said that lamb’s fry and bacon was her favourite, closely followed by liver. I’m told liver’s tasty, but I think we’ve all been rather spoilt when it comes to food – I really can’t stand the idea of it. It’s funny but my grandad eats all those things too.’

  ‘It’s definitely generational,’ Dolly said.

  ‘What is?’ Hugh Kennington-Jones asked as he came through the door.

  ‘Daddy!’ Alice-Miranda exclaimed as she jumped up to give her father a hug.

  ‘Offal,’ Dolly replied.

  ‘Oh, I love it,’ Hugh said. ‘And the gorier the better as far as I’m concerned. Chicken feet in China, haggis in the Hebrides, kat-a-kat in Karachi.’

  ‘What’s that?’ Sloane asked.

  ‘It’s sort of like a hash of kidney, brain, heart, liver and testicles usually of goats or sheep – it’s delicious,’ Hugh replied.

  ‘Gross . . .’ a chorus sprung up around the table.

  ‘I’m sorry I asked,’ Sloane said. ‘But is there any more bacon?’

  ‘Changing the subject, Daddy,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘Where have you been? We’ve hardly seen you at all and you said that you’d be home the whole time we were here.’

  Hugh smiled at his daughter. ‘Sorry, darling – there’ve been a few supply chain issues at work and I’ve had to hop in and do some investigating.’

  ‘Is that why Mrs Parker said that the Kennington’s at Downsfordvale didn’t have any Christmas stock?’ Millie asked.

  ‘I’m still getting to the bottom of that one,’ Hugh said. ‘And it seems a whole lot of others.’

  Alice-Miranda looked at the man. ‘Can we help?’

  Hugh shook his head. ‘You’re not spending your Christmas holidays working, young lady. And haven’t we got a tree to trim? I’ve just called Mr Greening and asked him to bring a couple of extra ladders around.’

  Cecelia arrived in the room. She was dressed for work in a pair of dark jeans and a crisply ironed white-collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Alice-Miranda often joked that was her mother’s uniform – tailored shirts and jeans with short leather boots.

  ‘Good morning, all,’ the woman said. ‘How are you feeling, Caprice?’

  ‘Much better, thank you,’ the girl replied. ‘My nose is swollen but it’s not nearly as bad as I thought it might be.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Caprice, you’re still beautiful,’ Neville said, earning himself several surprised stares.

  ‘Why, thank you, Neville,’ Caprice said. It looked suspiciously like she batted her eyelashes at the boy, whose cheeks turned puce.

  ‘I meant that purely as an observation,’ the boy squeaked. ‘It’s just that I know a beautiful girl when I see one . . . I think I’ll be quiet now.’

  Everyone laughed as Caprice flicked her copper-coloured tresses over her shoulder.

  ‘Have you spoken to your mother today, Caprice?’ Cecelia asked.

  Caprice nodded. ‘Oh yes, Mummy’s very busy. She asked that I not call her again until the end of the week – she really needs to concentrate on this job. Though I still don’t know where it is or who she’s working for. It’s all a bit of a mystery.’

  ‘Oh – well, as long as she’s fine with everything,’ Cecelia said, though it was clear she still felt uneasy about the situation. ‘Right, I’d better have my porridge and then we can get on with the tree.’

  The children finished their breakfast and drifted away upstairs to brush teeth and tidy rooms.

  After a while it was only Alice-Miranda and her parents who were left.

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?’ the child asked. She looked at her mother and then at her father, who seemed to be avoiding her gaze.

  ‘Yes, everything’s perfect, darling – especially now that you and your friends are here,’ Cecelia said. ‘And Charlotte and the twins will be here on Sunday with Lawrence and Granny. We’ll have a full house.’

  Cecelia Highton-Smith bit her lip and inspected her fingernails, a worried look on her face while Dolly poured the woman a cup of tea from a china pot. Except that the pour looked more like a fountain spraying everywhere.

  ‘I think you’ve sprung a leak, Dolly,’ Hugh said.

  ‘Oh, heavens,’ the woman said, grabbing a cloth to wipe up the mess. ‘That’s new. There must be a crack in the spout.’

  Alice-Miranda looked at the pot. ‘It’s such a lovely one.’ The teapot had a pretty pattern of blue flowers with birds and other foliage.