Alice-Miranda in the Alps Read Free Page B

offence, anyone, but I’d rather catch a bigger plane next time,’ Jacinta squeaked.
    The Highton-Smith-Kennington-Joneses’ private jet was a luxurious affair but it was true that, in poor conditions, passengers were well aware of every shudder and shake. The jet had bumped and bounced all over the place as it had made its approach through the Alps.
    Sloane Sykes looked at them as if they were mad. ‘I don’t know what you’re all whingeing about. It was fantastic. And that view! Those mountains are stunning and the lake shimmered as if it were covered in diamonds.’
    Alice-Miranda grinned across the aisle at the girl. ‘I’m glad you got to see it, Sloane. I think everyone else had their eyes closed.’
    â€˜I know I did,’ Hamish McNoughton-McGill agreed. His wife, Pippa, bit her lip and nodded.
    Sep and Lucas were busy discussing how they could pass themselves off as eighteen-year-olds so they could do the famous Olympia Bob Run. It was all the boys had thought about since Hugh had informed them that the bobsleigh course was open to the public. They’d both been horribly disappointed when he’d told them there was an age limit.
    â€˜Sorry about the rough treatment, everyone – we hit some clear air turbulence up there,’ Cyril said over the intercom. ‘Samedan is renowned for being a bit tricky. Hopefully it won’t be nearly so bad when we fly out.’
    â€˜I think I’ll walk home,’ Millie whispered.
    â€˜Me too,’ her father said, and everyone laughed.
    Millie hadn’t realised they’d all heard her, and blushed.
    â€˜Now that we’re back on solid ground,’ Cyril continued, ‘welcome to St Moritz, where the current temperature is minus five degrees centigrade with a stiff breeze coming in from the north.’
    â€˜If that’s what Cyril calls a stiff breeze, I’d hate to see what he makes of a hurricane,’ Lucas said to Sep.
    â€˜We’re here safe and sound and that’s the main thing.’ Cecelia smiled thinly at the children. For the first time in many flights, she’d been worried too, but she wasn’t keen to pass on her concerns lest the children be any more terrified than they already were.
    As the plane came to a halt and the engines powered down, Hugh emerged from the cockpit. ‘Right then, let’s head over to the hotel, shall we?’
    â€˜Hats and coats on, kids,’ Cecelia instructed.
    Everyone stood up and began to gather their belongings.
    Sloane turned to her brother, who had suddenly taken on the appearance of a polar bear. ‘What are you wearing?’
    â€˜It’s my hat. Cool, isn’t it?’ Sep said.
    Sloane rolled her eyes and pulled on a stylish pink beanie. ‘If you’re four, maybe.’
    Cecelia ushered the children down the steps and onto the freezing tarmac, where they were greeted by an immigration official. The man in a navy puffer jacket and beanie checked the pile of passports Cecelia had gathered together.
    â€˜Enjoy your stay,’ he said once he was done, nodding at the group politely.
    Cyril filled out the necessary paperwork while Hugh and Hamish helped to unload the luggage. It was swiftly collected by three men dressed in red overcoats with gold buttons and navy trim. They all wore peaked caps with the words ‘Fanger’s Palace Hotel’ emblazoned on the brim and quickly deposited the bags into the back of two black mini-vans parked close by.
    Cecelia shivered. ‘Hop in, everyone. It doesn’t matter which van you pick; they’re both headed to the same place.’
    Soon enough the vehicles were hurtling along the main road towards the famous resort town of St Moritz. It was only a short journey to the hotel, which was positioned right above the frozen lake. Everyone gazed out of the van windows at the picture-postcard views as the sun disappeared over the mountain.
    Sloane gasped.