Alice-Miranda at Sea by Jacqueline Harvey Page B

puckered on Mrs Oliver’s forehead.
    â€˜Because you hate having other people cook for you. Whenever we’ve been away before, you nearly always commandeer the kitchen by the second day,’ Alice-Miranda informed the group. ‘I’m surprised you’re not downstairs.’
    There really wasn’t anything Dolly Oliver didn’t know about cooking. She’d been the Highton-Smith-Kennington-Joneses’ family cook for the past ten years and with the Highton-Smiths for another thirty years before that. Dolly was renowned for her amazing food and her incredible scientific work too. Her product, Just Add Water Freeze-Dried Foods, was being shipped around the world, making important inroads into malnutrition. But just recently, since Dolly had been reacquainted with Millie’s grandfather, Alice-Miranda had noticed a change in her. Almost as though, for the first time in her life, she was happy letting other people look after her – well just a little bit, anyway.
    â€˜That’s not entirely true, young lady.’ Mrs Oliver looked over at Alice-Miranda. ‘I didn’t go near Prince Shivaji’s chef, Amir, when we were in Jaipur last year,’ she said.
    â€˜Well, that’s only because he insisted on keeping a basket of spitting cobras beside the stove,’ Alice-Miranda reminded her. ‘I wasn’t going anywhere near that kitchen, either.’
    Mrs Oliver snorted and turned to the rest of the table. ‘Oh dear, I do remember that. Amir’s father was a snake charmer and he often had his son mind his serpents overnight. I was having a tour of the kitchen, wanting to learn all about the wonderful spices he was using when I got a little bit nosey and lifted the lid on the basket. You can only imagine my reaction when a full-grown cobra reared up and looked me in the eye.’
    Everyone laughed at the thought of poor Mrs Oliver and the snake.
    â€˜Well, I dare you to try and get a job in the kitchen on the Octavia , Mrs Oliver,’ Millie challenged.
    â€˜Why do you say that, dear?’ the old woman quizzed.
    â€˜We met the Head Chef, Vladimir, yesterday and he’s fierce. His men are terrified of him,’ Millie reported.
    â€˜What a pity,’ Mrs Oliver replied. ‘I so enjoyed that marinated lamb we had last night. I was planning to pop in and ask if he might share the recipe.’
    â€˜Well, good luck,’ Millie offered.
    Jacinta appeared at the entrance to the room.
    â€˜Would you like to sit with your mother and father this morning, miss?’ a young crewman offered.
    â€˜Are they here?’ Jacinta looked perplexed. It wasn’t at all like her mother to be out of bed before noon, let alone up and eating breakfast at the ungodly hour of 8 am.
    â€˜Over there, miss.’ The young man pointed towards Hugh and Cecelia, who had slipped into the breakfast room a few minutes beforehand.
    â€˜Oh, they’re not my parents,’ Jacinta felt a sharp stab deep inside her stomach.
    â€˜I am terribly sorry, miss,’ the crewman replied, his cheeks turning red.
    â€˜Yeah, me too,’ Jacinta whispered. ‘It’s all right, I’ll sit with my friends.’ She looked towards the adjacent table where Alice-Miranda was holding court.

N eville’s eyes opened and he wondered for a moment where he was.
    â€˜Are you all right, Master Neville?’ Henderson leaned over the boy who was lying on his back on the king-sized bed in his suite. ‘I’ve called for the doctor.’
    Neville sat up. His gaze darted around the room, like a mosquito in search of a bare limb, before he realised that his case was in fact sitting on the bed beside him.
    â€˜I know you’re awfully attached to that instrument, sir, so I brought it back in for you.’
    Neville swallowed hard and managed to mumble a soft thank you.
    â€˜You’re welcome. Now, how are you feeling?’
    Neville rubbed his forehead