Alice-Miranda had a spring in her step as she set off back to school from the village. Her lesson this afternoon had gone especially well, and she was leaping and skipping in time to the beat in her head. She couldn’t remember loving anything as much – except for riding, but she’d been doing that since she was a toddler. This was new and a bit tricky and probably the most challenging thing she’d tried her hand at in a very long time, although organising the concert was going to take every ounce of skill she and the other girls had too.

It felt fun to have a secret. Well, there were three people who knew – actually now four as she’d recently spilled the beans to Neville Nordstrom. They’d been writing to each other since the leadership camp in Scotland, and Alice-Miranda was hoping that her parents would allow her to have a few friends over to stay during the next term break. Neville was one of the kindest boys she’d ever met, and he was sweet and funny too.

Alice-Miranda had almost reached the end of Rosebud Lane when she spotted a girl with long dark hair scamper from around the back of a pretty stone cottage, the front of which was partly covered by a trellis of pink roses. Alice-Miranda recognised the house as belonging to Mrs Goodman. Mr Parker had told her some fascinating stories about the woman but, strangely, she was yet to meet her. The dark-haired girl dragged a schoolbag out from under a hydrangea bush, then ran swiftly down the road, turning left into the high street.

It took a moment for Alice-Miranda to realise that it was Zahra Abboud. She ran after her, thinking they could walk to Caledonia Manor together, given the Abboud family had moved into Mrs Reeves’s old flat that morning.

‘Zahra!’ Alice-Miranda called, but the girl didn’t stop. If anything, she increased her pace and was heading in the opposite direction to school.

Alice-Miranda dashed past the Munzes’ general store and the Abbouds’ burnt-out home and restaurant across the road. The place was cordoned off with police tape as it was still deemed a crime scene until the authorities finalised their investigations. Zahra turned another corner and ran into the front courtyard of the village primary school, where she dumped her bag on the ground and sat on a bench under a tree. There were several children in the playground and a young supervisor kicking a ball on the grassy area.

Alice-Miranda hesitated at the gate. ‘Zahra,’ she called again, waving her arm in the air.

The girl looked up. There was something in her eyes – terror, Alice-Miranda would have said, which was strange because she wasn’t there to do her any harm.

Alice-Miranda hurried over and sat down beside the girl. ‘I thought it was you. How are you feeling?’

‘Fine,’ Zahra said quietly, staring into the street.

‘I saw you just now, coming out of that cottage at the end of Rosebud Lane,’ Alice-Miranda said.

Zahra shook her head. ‘No, you didn’t.’

Alice-Miranda thought it highly peculiar for the girl to deny the plain truth, but before she had time to ask anything more, Zahra hastily gathered her things and ran to a silver minivan that had rounded the corner. The girl jumped into the front passenger seat and pulled her seatbelt over her shoulder.

‘How was your Maths tutoring?’ the woman asked. ‘Does your teacher want to talk to me?’

‘It was fine,’ Zahra replied, crossing her fingers. ‘And no, he doesn’t.’

‘Where are the other students from the group?’ Mrs Abboud asked, scanning the playground.

‘Over there somewhere,’ Zahra said, gesturing to the children running on the grass.

‘Isn’t that Alice-Miranda, from the boarding school?’ The woman squinted out the window at the tiny girl, who gave a full-bodied wave.

Zahra shrugged.

‘My goodness, Zahra, have you forgotten your manners? If it wasn’t for that girl and her friends, we would all be dead. Except for you because you were not home when the fire started and still you do not tell me where you were.’ Ada hopped out of the car and walked around to the footpath. ‘Alice-Miranda!’ she yelled, waving.

The girl skipped to the car, her chocolate curls bouncing. ‘Hello Mrs Abboud. It’s wonderful to see you,’ the child said. ‘How is the rest of the family?’

‘We are all healthy and now we have a roof over our heads too, thanks to you,’ Ada said. ‘Mr Abboud is still sleeping, but they tell me it is for the best until he has recovered some more. I have not been able to thank you for what you and your friends did for us.’ There was an overwhelming sadness in her dark eyes.

‘It was Jacinta who spotted the smoke first – we’re just glad that she did. And it’s silly for the flat to be empty. At least now Zahra and Esma can still go to school and you’ll be close enough to be able to supervise the rebuilding,’ the child said.

Mrs Abboud swallowed hard. ‘I am afraid we cannot afford to – there is too little insurance and our savings will not cover the costs.’

Alice-Miranda glanced at the car, where Zahra was avoiding looking at the pair of them. ‘Don’t worry, we have a plan to get the money you need,’ she said.

Mrs Abboud shook her head. ‘You have done more than enough already. We cannot accept it. Mehmet would be angry with me for taking advantage.’

‘But it’s not just me and the girls, Mrs Abboud. We’re going to involve the whole community and I know that if the shoe was on the other foot and someone else was in need, you and Mr Abboud would be the first to step up. You held that fundraiser to help repair the village hall after the floods, and you send left-over food from the restaurant to the homeless shelter in Downsfordvale each week,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘Please let us help you this time. Besides,’ she added with a grin, ‘the plan is for something that will be lots of fun, so it’s a win-win for everyone.’

Ada frowned. ‘Only if you promise it will not be too much work for you. I can help – and the girls too. You must let me know what we can do, then perhaps I will not tell Mehmet straight away. He will need time to come to terms with the news and then I know he will be so happy that we can reopen the restaurant. It is his life.’

Alice-Miranda held out her tiny hand. ‘Promise,’ she said with a smile.

Ada enveloped the child in a warm embrace. ‘Thank you, for everything,’ she whispered, and stepped back. ‘Would you like a lift to school? I can drop you on the way. We are going to the hospital.’

Alice-Miranda declined the offer, opting to walk to clear her head. ‘If you need any babysitters, I’m sure there are lots of girls who would be only too happy to help.’

Mrs Abboud nodded then hopped into the minivan. Alice-Miranda waved as the Abboud family puttered off down the road. Zahra didn’t look up once. Alice-Miranda wished she’d had longer to speak to the girl. She resolved to find her later and talk to her alone. It seemed they both had a secret, and she could only hope that Zahra’s wasn’t going to land her in any trouble.