Alice-Miranda In New York 5 Read Online Free

to be honest, Hugh, I think this renovation has almost done me in. I suspect that daughter of yours will give me just the boost I need, although I might require a vacation once you’ve gone.’
    The group laughed.
    â€˜I imagine you’d like to head straight upstairs?’ Mr Gruber offered.
    â€˜Actually, Gilbert, I wondered if you might give Hugh and me a quick tour. I’m dying to see what you’ve done with the ground floor since I was last here,’ Cecelia Highton-Smith suggested. ‘Dolly, why don’t you take Alice-Miranda upstairs and get her settled.’
    â€˜May I come with you instead, Mummy?’ Alice-Miranda asked.
    Dolly Oliver nodded at Cecelia. ‘I’ll go up and put the kettle on.’
    â€˜All right, we won’t be long,’ Cecelia smiled.
    â€˜Are you sure you don’t want to wait until Monday?’ Gilbert asked Cecelia.
    â€˜No, of course not,’ she shook her head. ‘It can’t be that bad.’
    The old man frowned. He led the family through a long hallway and up a short flight of steps. Gilbert pushed open a large door and spread out in front of them was a muddle of counters, boxes, signage and general disarray. Lights not yet attached to the ceiling dangled from long cables and there seemed to be a whole wall of plasterboard missing.
    Down among the muddle, the high-pitched whine of a drill started up.
    â€˜Goodness, someone’s working late,’ Alice-Miranda said.
    A head popped up from beside a counter.
    â€˜Haven’t you got a home to go to George?’ Gilbert joked with the young man.
    The man seemed startled. ‘Oh, hello Mr Gruber. I . . . I just thought I’d get a couple of things done before heading off,’ he called back.
    â€˜George, you know Cecelia, of course,’ Gilbert began, ‘and this is her husband Hugh and daughter Alice-Miranda.’
    â€˜Hello.’ The fellow waved. Alice-Miranda and her father waved back.
    â€˜George is Tony’s site foreman,’ Gilbert explained. ‘I think that man works harder than anyone.’
    George held his drill aloft. ‘If you don’t mind.’
    â€˜Of course not. Don’t let us hold you up,’ Gilbert replied. He turned to Cecelia and noticed that her face had drained of colour. ‘It’s a work in progress, Cee,’ he said gently.
    She gave a clenched smile.
    â€˜Is that what you call it, Gil? I’d say it’s a dirty great mess,’ Hugh laughed.
    â€˜I’m sure it will come together,’ Alice-Miranda said and slipped her hand into her mother’s.
    â€˜I hope so,’ Cecelia whispered.
    â€˜Don’t worry, dear. You know we’ll get there,’ Gilbert reassured her.
    â€˜Let’s go upstairs, Mummy. You look like you could do with a cup of tea.’
    The four of them walked back through the large door and into the private corridor towards the elevator.
    â€˜Tony assures me that George will have all trades on deck first thing Monday, and I guarantee you won’t know the place by the afternoon,’ Gilbert said.
    â€˜I’m not concerned,’ Cecelia protested. ‘Really, I’m not.’
    â€˜Then what are those?’ Hugh reached out and touched his wife’s forehead. ‘They look like worry lines to me.’
    â€˜Don’t be silly.’ Cecelia smiled and the lines disappeared. ‘Goodnight Gilbert,’ she said and kissed the old man.
    â€˜Goodnight all,’ he replied.
    Alice-Miranda reached out and pressed the elevator button. There was only one option for the carriage they stood in front of: P for penthouse.

A lice-Miranda’s eyelids fluttered open.
    â€˜Good morning, sleepyhead, we thought you were going to snooze the day away.’ Hugh KenningtonJones drew back the curtains and sunlight flooded the room.
    The Highton-Smith-Kennington-Joneses’ penthouse covered the two top floors of their iconic department