Alice-Miranda Shows the Way (9 page)

‘F
ern and Tarquin sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Fern with a baby's carriage,' the mousy child chanted at the top of her lungs.

‘Get lost, Ivy! He's my brother and you're disgusting,' Fern yelled.

Ivy stuck out her tongue. ‘Are you gonna make me?' she challenged.

‘I'm gonna get Pete onto you if you don't shut your filthy little mouth,' Fern threatened.

‘Well, I'll tell Alf and then he'll kick you out and you'll have nowhere to live,' said the smaller girl, screwing up her face. ‘Alf doesn't have to let you stay, you know. Not any more. He's the boss now.'

Fern eyeballed her. ‘Who says?'

‘My mum and she knows everything,' said Ivy.

‘Your mum wouldn't know her right arm from her rear end!' Fern leapt down from the low branch where she'd been sitting and Ivy dashed away to join some of the other children, who were kicking their scuffed football across the open field.

When Alf had first arrived at the camp a couple of years back, sniffing around for work, some of the older blokes had been suspicious of him. But they were down a couple of men and even though Alf sounded like he gargled gravel for breakfast, he was a gentle giant – at least, that's what they'd all thought. Best of all, he made people laugh. It wasn't long before everyone loved him. Especially Gina, Fern and Tarquin's mother. Alf had married Gina and moved into the big van. Gina said that he would look after them and keep the carnival running properly until it was time for their older brother to take over. But then everything changed, especially Alf.

Fern nursed her throbbing arm. She had administered her own first aid, some ice in a plastic bag, then
she'd wrapped it in an old crepe bandage she'd found in the caravan. But it hurt, worse than anything she'd felt before. She removed the bandage to have a look. Her wrist was swollen and it had started to bruise – maybe there was a broken bone. But it would just have to get better on its own. Alf wouldn't pay for her to see a doctor.

She could see her brother sitting in the grass at the edge of the field, near the willows. She reapplied the bandage, then walked over to him.

‘Hey Tarq, I got this for you.' Fern reached into her pocket and pulled out a new badge. ‘I found it in the village.'

Tarquin's amber eyes shone like new moons as he stared at the silver pin.

He reached out and took it, and immediately placed it on the ground beside the one from Chicken Charlie's.

‘It's twinkly,' he said. ‘I like it.'

Then he looked at Fern in a way she couldn't ever remember him looking before.

‘I want Mum, Fern,' Tarquin said. ‘And Liam.'

‘I want them back too,' Fern said. ‘But I don't know where Liam is and Mum's not coming back. Remember? She's gone to heaven.'

‘With Marty?' Tarquin looked at his sister closely.

She sighed. ‘Yeah, with Marty.'

If her little brother wanted to believe that their mother was in heaven with a skinny field mouse, then let him think that.

‘Marty died,' Tarquin said.

‘Yes, Marty died,' Fern repeated. She'd been glad about that, in a way. Tarquin's collections were hard enough to deal with when they weren't alive. There were rocks and coins and shiny pieces of paper and she wasn't ever allowed to throw anything away. The badges were a relatively new obsession. When Tarquin had found the mouse in the kitchen cupboard she had dreaded how they could cope with a collection of furry rodents. But then Marty the mouse had been dead the next morning and Tarquin had lost interest.

Fern had buried Marty in the field next to the racetrack at Cossington Park. Their mother was buried in the cemetery in the village at Winchesterfield. When you lived with the carnival you couldn't be fussy about where you left your dead. It was usually wherever the carnival was pulled in and it just so happened that almost a year ago their mother
had taken her last breaths on the same flat piece of ground where the troupe had now set up their temporary home.

Fern had known that her mother was sick, but she had always said that she'd get better. That she wouldn't leave them. But she'd lied, because she'd died anyway and then Liam left too. Fern had no idea where he was or if he was all right, but he shouldn't have done what he did. Alf said that he had no choice but to tell him to go – at least that's what everyone said.

That afternoon, Fern had taken a long walk across the fields and around the village, but not to the cemetery. She wanted to go there but her legs wouldn't walk in that direction. And she'd seen that girl again, the one with the pony, and her red-haired friend. They were with an old lady driving out of the Queen's racing stables.

Fern had thought she looked the type. Stuck up little princess.

But there was no point complaining. Life was what it was. Some people had it easy and some didn't, but that made Fern all the more determined. Keeping up with school when you moved every month or less wasn't easy, but Fern's mother had
enrolled her so that she could take her lessons via correspondence.

They'd had a teacher with them for a while but then Ivy's mother, Maude, had accused the young woman of being lazy when Ivy's brother Stephen failed some stupid scholarship test and the girl upped and left. Fern had loved working with the teacher. She wasn't lazy. Stephen, on the other hand, was no Einstein. After that, they hadn't been able to find a replacement. Fern's mother was smart and she could always help her daughter with her studies but since she'd been gone Fern had to slog twice as hard to work things out on her own. Sometimes another one of the carnival mums, Mrs Kessler, would have a look over her writing, and Mr Kessler was good with numbers but with four children of their own to look after, they didn't have much time.

In some ways Fern and Tarquin were the envy of the rest of the carnival because they had more space than anyone. Their mother had saved every penny she earned for years to buy the second-hand caravan they called home. While it was far from new, it was spotless. It was a little like a time machine, a perfectly preserved house on wheels from at least thirty years before. But it didn't feel much like home any more.

Fern had dreams – big dreams to leave the carnival and go to university. She wanted to become a doctor and then she'd make enough money to look after Tarquin properly. They could have a house – a proper house that you couldn't hitch up to the back of a truck – and there would be a garden too. More than anything, people would respect her; Fern knew that doctors were important. When you were in the carnival no one gave you any respect. Usually they were just afraid of you. She wondered what it would be like to have people want to be friends, instead of going out of their way to walk on the other side of the street just so they didn't have to make eye contact.

But carnival life wasn't all bad. You could go on the rides anytime you liked without paying, and Fern had seen more of the country than most people would ever see in their whole life. But still she wondered what it would be like to go to the same school every day and have the same friends. For now it was just her and Tarquin.

‘Fern!' a voice growled from over by their caravan. ‘I'm not waiting until midnight for my supper so you'd better get your sorry self home and start cooking.'

Fern flinched. She was thankful it was her left wrist that was damaged and not her right, but cutting up the vegetables was still going to be a challenge. Perhaps she'd just make something with rice tonight. At least Alf wasn't all that fussy about what she cooked, as long as there was a meal on the table.

‘Tarquin,' she called to her brother. ‘Come and help me with dinner.' She knew that ‘help' meant he would just sit at the kitchen table and lay out his badges but she preferred his company to being on her own.

Tarquin looked up from his collection. He counted the badges one by one and placed them back into the drawstring bag, then he stood up beside her. Fern slipped her right hand into Tarquin's. He flinched.

‘It's okay, Tarq,' she said. ‘It's okay.' Together they walked home.

O
n Sunday morning after breakfast, Alice-Miranda and Millie asked Mrs Howard if she had time to take them over to Chesterfield Downs to check on Bony and Chops. The girls decided they could ride home together on Chops if it looked like Bonaparte should stay longer.

‘Oh, I am sorry, dears, but I have a show committee meeting this morning. If I know Myrtle Parker, I'll be given a list of extra jobs as long as my arm if I'm late. And I'm afraid that Charlie and Doreen will
be joining me so there's no point asking them either,' Mrs Howard explained.

‘Maybe we could go and see if Stumps is up for a ride. We could double over together and then you could ride him back. But just remember: don't mention the “h” word,' Millie said with a giggle.

Alice-Miranda nodded. ‘That sounds like a good idea.'

The ‘h' word Millie was referring to was
home
. Stumps was notorious for bolting home if anyone mentioned the word. Poor Sloane had found out the hard way after he'd taken off at a cracking pace the first and only time she'd been out riding with the girls.

Alice-Miranda and Millie headed off to the stables to find Stumps. They waved goodbye to Sloane and Jacinta, who had decided to walk over to Caledonia Manor to visit Sloane's step-granny Henrietta and Miss Hephzibah.

‘Hello,' Alice-Miranda called as they entered the cool brick stable block. It seemed strange not to be greeted by Bony and Chops. Susannah's pony Buttercup whinnied hello, but Stumps was nowhere to be seen.

‘I wonder where he is,' said Millie after they'd checked all of the stalls.

‘Maybe he's been turned out already,' Alice-Miranda replied.

‘Then we have no hope of taking him,' said Millie. ‘Once he's in the paddock for the day he'll do anything to avoid being caught, the lazy little monster.'

‘We might just have to walk to Chesterfield Downs,' Alice-Miranda suggested.

‘But it's so far,' Millie groaned. ‘And I'm tired already.'

‘Chesterfield Downs, you say?' Billy Boots appeared behind the girls.

Millie just about leapt into the rafters and Alice-Miranda jumped too.

‘Bit nervy, are we?' he asked.

‘Oh, hello Mr Boots. We didn't hear you come in,' said Alice-Miranda, smiling at the young man.

‘You're like a phantom,' Millie added, remembering how he had sneaked up on her the day before when she was collecting Bony and Chops from the paddock.

‘I like that. A phantom,' Billy said with a wink.

‘Is Stumps outside?' Millie asked.

‘Sure is. I turned the little plodder out half an hour ago. He's got no go in him until he sees that
grass and then you'd think someone had shoved a firecracker up his . . .'

Charlie Weatherly appeared at the entrance to the stables. ‘Good morning all,' he said, giving Billy a stern look.

‘Um, nose,' the lad finished.

‘Hello Mr Charles. Millie and I were hoping to ride Stumps over to Chesterfield Downs this morning so we can train Bony and Chops,' Alice-Miranda explained.

‘Mmm,' Charlie nodded. ‘Why doesn't Billy here drive you? I'm afraid I don't have time and you'll never get Stumps back in this early. Mrs Parker's coming over to inspect the plant stocks for the show in a little while and I've still got a bit to do. Then we have a committee meeting over at her place.'

‘Yes, Mrs Howard said you were busy,' Alice-Miranda said.

‘The keys for the utility are hanging on the hook just inside the greenhouse.' Charlie motioned for the lad to go and get them.

‘But I don't know where Chesterfield Downs is,' Billy protested.

‘We do,' said Millie.

‘But I haven't driven the ute before,' he said.

‘You can drive, can't you, Billy?' Charlie asked.

‘Yeah, of course,' Billy replied.

‘Well then, get the keys and meet the girls at the front of the school,' Charlie said, exasperated. ‘Or have you got somewhere else to be today?'

‘No, I . . . no.' Billy shook his head. ‘I'm happy to take them to Chesterfield Downs. The girls tell me it's pretty special.'

‘Good, at least then I'll know where you are,' said Charlie. He'd begun to think the lad was a phantom, the number of times he seemed to just vanish.

Ten minutes later, Alice-Miranda and Millie were waiting on the steps at Winchesterfield Manor. The utility clattered down the driveway and rolled to a halt in front of them.

Both girls hopped into the front, with Millie in the middle.

‘When we get to the end of the driveway you need to turn left,' said Alice-Miranda.

The car took off and then slowed to a stop at the gate before Billy turned left as instructed. He planted his foot on the accelerator and the vehicle sped up.

‘Ooh, be careful, Billy,' said Millie anxiously. ‘You might get a speeding ticket. Constable Derby likes to patrol this stretch of road.'

‘I don't think he'll be there today,' Alice-Miranda remarked. ‘Constable Derby and Mrs Derby have gone away for the weekend. It's Mrs Derby's sister's wedding in the city so they won't be back until tonight.'

‘Is he the only copper in the village?' Billy asked.

‘Yes,' Alice-Miranda replied, ‘and he's quite the loveliest man you'll ever meet.'

Billy scoffed. ‘I doubt it.'

‘It's true, he really is. I know I'll feel better when he's back, what with all those carnival people around,' Millie said.

Billy glanced at the girl. ‘What carnival people?'

She looked ahead pointedly, willing him to keep his eyes on the road. ‘Yesterday when Alice-Miranda and I went riding we saw them. They've taken over the whole of Gertrude's Grove. One of the boys pushed Alice-Miranda over – that's how she got the bump on her head,' Millie explained.

‘What boy?' Billy asked.

‘His name's Pete and he got into a fight with another kid called Tarquin and a girl called Fern,' said Millie. ‘Alice-Miranda got in the way and Fern did too.'

‘Is she all right? The other girl?' Billy asked.

Alice-Miranda was surprised by his concern. ‘I'm not sure. Her wrist could have been broken but she wouldn't let us help her. Do you know her?'

‘No, of course not. Why would I? I just don't like hearing about people getting hurt,' Billy said brusquely.

‘Some big guy called Alf came out and the kids all scattered like confetti,' Millie said. ‘Anyway, I'll be glad when they move on.'

Alice-Miranda frowned at Millie. ‘I'm sure they're perfectly lovely people.'

‘Carnival people? That's not what I've heard,' Billy said. ‘That Alf guy sounds a real thug and besides, everyone knows that if anything goes bad when the carnies are in town, you know exactly where to look.'

‘I don't think that's fair at all,' Alice-Miranda disagreed.

‘So where is this Gertrude's Grove place?' Billy asked.

‘It's through the woods, over near Caledonia Manor,' Alice-Miranda replied.

All this talk of the carnival seemed to encourage Billy to drive even faster.

‘That's the turn-off just up there,' said Millie. She was gripping the dashboard now.

He turned the car into the lane, barely reducing his speed at all.

‘Mr Boots, perhaps you should slow down,' Alice-Miranda suggested. ‘Otherwise you'll scare the horses.'

‘There's the driveway!' Millie shouted, pointing at the gateposts on the right-hand side of the road.

Without any warning, Billy planted his foot on the brake. The car skidded to a halt and a veil of dust overtook them, enveloping the vehicle. Thankfully the girls were strapped in or they might have ended up through the windscreen.

There was a deathly silence.

‘Sorry,' the young man said at last. ‘I don't know what happened then. I just got distracted.'

Distracted by what, Alice-Miranda wondered. Perhaps Millie was right about Billy Boots? She had a strange feeling that there was more to him than she had first thought.

Billy drove through the main entrance and up the driveway at a snail's pace.

‘Wow, this place is beautiful,' he said, his eyes scanning from one side of the road to the other.

‘Wait until you see the house,' Millie said. She
sighed deeply, still catching her breath after Billy's wild driving. ‘It's gorgeous but Aunty Gee hardly ever comes down here at all. Most of the time it's empty.'

As the car rounded the bend the house came into view.

‘Whoa!' Billy exclaimed. ‘It's a mansion and a half, in't it.'

Billy continued up the driveway and around to the parking area beside the stables.

‘Geez, they make the stables at your place look like a chook shed,' Billy commented. ‘Imagine being this rich!'

Alice-Miranda and Millie hopped out of the car.

‘Would you like to come and meet Rockstar?' Alice-Miranda asked.

‘Yeah, of course. It's not every day you get to see the world's greatest racehorse up close.'

‘I'll just see if I can find someone,' Alice-Miranda said, and headed off in the direction of the stable doors. Millie followed her.

‘This place is amazing, all right,' Billy said to himself.

Alice-Miranda peered into the half-light of the stable block. ‘Hello,' she called. ‘Is anyone here?'

Wally Whitstable backed out of one of the stalls close to the entrance, pulling a wheelbarrow full of soiled straw. ‘Good morning, miss.'

‘Did Bonaparte behave himself last night?' the tiny child asked.

‘He's been quite the well-mannered guest,' Wally replied. ‘Hello Millie. Your old Chops has been a good fellow too.'

Millie smiled and walked across to Chops's stall and hauled herself up onto the door. He was dozing with his head resting in the feed bin.

‘It doesn't look like being here with all of these champions has rubbed off on him at all,' she said with a grin, before hopping down.

‘Bonaparte must be just what the doctor ordered,' said Wally. ‘I rode Rockstar again this morning. Freddy walked Bony down to the track and Rockstar ran like the wind.'

‘That's wonderful,' Alice-Miranda grinned.

‘So how did you get here?' Wally asked.

‘Mr Boots drove us over. He's in the car,' Alice-Miranda informed him. ‘Can he meet Rockstar?'

‘I suppose so, but don't go into the stall,' Wally replied.

Alice-Miranda and Millie walked back outside
towards Billy, who was standing beside the driver's door.

Alice-Miranda beckoned to him. ‘Mr Walt said you can come in.'

The trio entered the stable.

‘Hello,' Wally nodded at the young man. ‘How are you getting on over there at the school?'

‘All right,' Billy Boots replied.

With track work long over for the day, most of the horses were now resting in their stalls.

‘So who's who?' Billy asked as they walked the length of the block.

‘That's Zelda and Boris and Fox,' Wally began.

‘Geez, I've never heard of any of them,' Billy frowned. ‘What is it, a herd of donkeys in here?'

‘No, those are just their stable names. She's Royal Contessa at the track, that's Lord Beauregard and he's Foxleigh's Fancy,' said Wally, pointing them out one by one.

‘Oh.' Billy nodded slowly as he recognised the champions. ‘So why is Rockstar just Rockstar, then?'

‘Apparently Queen Georgiana named him herself and she thought it was perfect. That's why he
doesn't have another name,' Wally explained. ‘It's a bit unusual for a racehorse to have just one name.'

‘I think it's perfect, too – he is a rock star,' Alice-Miranda agreed.

Dick Wigglesworth emerged from the tack room where an electrician was busy rewiring the switches. ‘Hello there, who's this?'

‘Hello Mr Wigglesworth,' Alice-Miranda greeted the silver-haired man with the bushy eyebrows. ‘This is Mr Boots.'

Dick Wigglesworth stepped forward and shook hands firmly with Billy. ‘Good to meet you,' Dick said with a nod. Billy returned the gesture but stayed silent.

‘Mr Boots has just taken over from Mr Walt at school,' said Alice-Miranda.

‘So you've come to meet our boy, have you?' Mr Wigglesworth walked over to the stall and opened the door.

‘He ran his best split since the derby this morning,' Freddy piped up as he emerged from a stall that he'd been mucking out.

‘That's wonderful,' said Alice-Miranda.

‘I just held Bony at the side of the track. When Wally took off it was all he could do to hold him –
he just wanted to get back to his little mate here,' Freddy explained.

‘Don't you have work to do, lad?' Dick frowned at the young man.

‘Yes, sir,' he said and disappeared back inside to his pile of manure.

‘Mr Wigglesworth, do you think it would be sensible to keep Bony here for a few more days?' Alice-Miranda asked. ‘If it means that Rockstar has a chance at the Queen's Cup, I'd be happy for him to stay.'