The Keeper of Lost Things(67)

“Don’t worry, Sunshine. I’m sure the mouse will have the good sense not to show a single whisker while Carrot’s in there.”

Sunshine was unconvinced.

“But he might. And then Carrot would kill him and be a murderinger.”

Laura smiled. She knew Sunshine well enough by now to know that she wouldn’t give up until something was done. Two minutes later, Laura was back, towing a recalcitrant Carrot on his lead. In the kitchen she gave him a sausage from the fridge and unclipped his lead. Before Sunshine could raise an objection, Laura pacified her.

“Mickey or Minnie will be quite safe now. I’ve shut the shed door, and now he’s had a sausage, Carrot won’t be hungry anyway.”

“He’s always hungry,” muttered Sunshine as she watched Carrot slope out of the room with mischief still clearly on his mind.

“When’s the lady coming?” she asked Laura.

Laura checked her watch.

“Anytime now. She’s called Alice and I thought you might like to make the lovely cup of tea when she gets here.”

As if on cue, the bell rang and Sunshine was at the front door before Laura was out of the starting block.

“Good afternoon, Lady Alice,” Sunshine greeted the rather taken-aback teenager at the door. “I’m Sunshine. Please do come in.”

“What a great name.”

The girl who followed Sunshine into the hall was tall and slim, with long, fair hair and a splatter of freckles across her nose. Laura held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Laura. Lovely to meet you.”

Sunshine deftly commandeered Alice and took her through to the garden while Laura was left to make the tea. When she came out with the tray of tea things, she found Alice and Sunshine swapping musical heroes.

“We both love David Bowie,” Sunshine announced proudly to Laura as she began to pour the tea.

“I’m sure he’ll be delighted,” said Laura, smiling. “How do you take it?” she asked Alice.

“Builder’s for me, please.”

Sunshine looked worried.

“I don’t know if we’ve got any of that, have we?” she asked Laura.

“Don’t worry, Sunshine,” said Alice, quick to spot her discomfort. “It’s just me being silly. I meant nice and strong with milk and two sugars.”

Alice had come to collect an umbrella; a child’s umbrella, white with red hearts.

“I didn’t actually lose it,” she explained, “and I can’t be absolutely certain that it was meant for me . . .”

Sunshine picked up the umbrella that was already on the table and handed it to her.

“It was,” she said simply. Although, judging by the look of undisguised adoration on Sunshine’s face, Laura reckoned she would have given Alice the family silver without a second thought and thrown in the deeds to Padua for good measure.

Alice took the umbrella from her and stroked its folded ruffles.

“It was my first time in America,” she told them. “Mum took me to New York. It was more of a working holiday for her. She was an editor of a fashion magazine and she’d bagged an interview with a hotshot new designer who was tipped to be the next big thing on the New York fashion scene. He was, as it turned out. But all I remember about him then was that he looked at me like I’d escaped from a leper colony or something. Apparently he didn’t ‘do’ children.”

“What’s a leopard colony?” Sunshine asked.

Alice looked over to Laura, but then decided to wing it.

“It’s a place where, in olden times, they used to put people who had a terrible illness that made their fingers and toes drop off.”

Laura would have bet money that Sunshine spent the next five minutes surreptitiously counting Alice’s digits. Thank goodness she was wearing sandals.

“There wasn’t much time for sightseeing,” Alice continued, “but she promised to take me to see the sculpture of Alice in Wonderland in Central Park. I remember being utterly thrilled. I thought that the statue was named after me.”

She slipped off her sandals and wriggled her toes in the cool grass. Sunshine studiously followed suit.

“It was raining that afternoon and Mum was already running late for her next appointment, so she wasn’t in the best of tempers, but I was beyond excited. I ran off ahead of her, and when I got to the sculpture, there was this huge strange-looking black guy with dreadlocks and big boots giving away umbrellas. He bent down and shook hands with me and I can still remember his face. It was a mixture of kind and sad, and he was called Marvin.”

Alice drained her cup and helped herself to another from the pot with confident teenage ease.

“My favorite story at the time was ‘The Selfish Giant’ by Oscar Wilde, and to me Marvin looked like a giant. But he wasn’t selfish. He was giving things away. Free umbrellas. Anyway, when Mum caught up with me she dragged me away. But it wasn’t just that. She was rude to him. Really horrible. He tried to give her an umbrella and she was an absolute bitch.”

Sunshine’s eyebrows hiccuped in astonishment at the casual use of an expletive, but her expression was one of admiration.

“I only met him for a moment, but I’ve never been able to forget the look on his face as she dragged me away.”

She sighed heavily, but then smiled as another memory eclipsed the last.