Word had spread quickly about the trouble at Fayle. Professor Winterbottom had spent an hour with September Sykes trying to change her view about enforcing the school’s closure, but he was no match for her when she had millions on her mind. He suggested that they ask Mr. Sykes in to talk about things, but she said he was overseas working and couldn’t be contacted. September was determined to show her husband a thing or two about making money.

At Winchesterfield-Downsfordvale, Millie and Alice-Miranda were talking about the recent turn of events.

“None of this makes any sense at all.” Millie was lying facedown on her bed with her arms tucked under her chin.

“It’s strange, isn’t it, that on one test the boys all score full marks, and then only a couple of weeks later they fail. I have a very bad feeling about all this,” Alice-Miranda decided. “Sep and Lucas must have been wrong about the cheating.”

“And imagine the Sykeses being the heirs.” Millie rolled her eyes. “I mean, Sep’s lovely, but Sloane, urgh.”

“Sep really loves it at school too. Maybe he can talk his mother into keeping it open,” Alice-Miranda suggested.

At that moment, Sloane Sykes appeared in the open doorway. “I don’t think so. Mummy and I don’t care about that stupid school. Sep will just have to find somewhere else to go.”

“Oh, hello, Sloane.” Alice-Miranda smiled. “Would you like to come in?”

“Why?” Sloane retorted.

“I thought you might like to work on your lines with us,” said Alice-Miranda.

“It’s all right, Sloane, I’m sure you’re way too busy working out how you’ll squander all those millions.” The last thing Millie wanted was to spend any more time with Sloane than she had to.

“I suppose our play next week will be Fayle’s last hurrah,” Sloane laughed.

“Well, perhaps not.” Alice-Miranda smiled. “Maybe your mother will think about the school and how important it is, and all that history. I mean, it’s a big thing to close down a place that has educated so many boys. It’s strange too, how one week the boys all scored one hundred percent on their test and then the very next test they failed.”

“Yes, I wonder how that could have happened?” Sloane couldn’t help herself. Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

Millie sat up. She watched Sloane. There was something about the twitch around her mouth—Millie had taken to reading about body language and knew this could be a sign of lying. When Sloane scratched her neck (another dead giveaway), Millie couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“You did it, didn’t you?” Millie leapt from her bed to confront the girl.

“What?” Sloane retorted. “I didn’t do anything.” Sloane’s eyes darted around the room.

“I remember, when we were at Fayle a couple of weeks ago, you went missing for ages and we were supposed to practice our scene. When you came back, you told Miss Reedy that you’d got lost. I bet you were changing the answers on the papers.” Millie’s face was bloodred.

“You’ve got a very good imagination, little one,” Sloane snapped. “And so what? Even if I did, you’ll never prove it.”

“I’ll tell Miss Grimm,” Millie threatened.

“Go ahead,” Sloane challenged her. “You can’t prove it, and then you’re just going to look like a little snitch.” Sloane turned and stalked off.

Millie fizzed with rage. “She’s foul. We have to find a way to prove that she cheated.”

Alice-Miranda walked over and stood calmly beside her friend. She looked at the clock beside her bed. It was just after two p.m. on Sunday afternoon. “I think we should go and see Miss Hephzibah. A ride in the countryside will do us both a world of good.”

“I agree. I don’t want to hang around here with that next door.” Millie began to change into her riding gear.

Not half an hour later, the girls were sitting in the kitchen at Caledonia Manor having tea and scones.

“There’s a terrible disaster at Fayle,” Alice-Miranda informed their friend.

“Really?” Hephzibah raised her veil slightly so she could sip her tea. She still hadn’t taken it off in front of Millie, although the child seemed much more comfortable in her presence now.

“The boys in Professor Pluss’s maths class failed a test and now the school is going to be closed,” Alice-Miranda continued.

“Yes, it’s to do with some silly old rule in the Fayle School Charter that if any more than twenty-five percent of boys fail any test, then the school must close and be returned immediately to the eldest heir of Frederick Fayle,” Millie added. “And you wouldn’t believe who that is.…”

Hephzibah nodded thoughtfully.

“It’s a family called the Sykeses. Sloane Sykes started at our school just this term, and she’s awful,” said Millie. “And it’s more than likely that she took the papers and changed the answers, and the school’s going to close because of her cheating. It’s all so obvious, but there’s just no way to prove it.”

Alice-Miranda chimed in. “Her brother, Sep, is such a lovely boy. He’s devastated about the school closing. But Mrs. Sykes won’t reconsider. She wants it all sold straightaway.” Alice-Miranda shook her head. “I telephoned Mummy and Daddy and asked if there was anything that could be done. Daddy even sent over to Fayle for a copy of the charter, and he said that there was a secret clause in the smallest of print saying that if the heir said the school could stay open then it would, and they could make sure the silly clause was revoked for good, but Mrs. Sykes is determined that she and her husband get the money. They’re only in line anyway because Mr. Sykes’s father married one of the Fayles. A lady called Henrietta—”

Hephzibah clutched her chest.

Alice-Miranda rose in alarm. “Are you all right?”

“What were you going to say?” Hephzibah whispered. “About the Fayle woman?”

“Well, she’s in a nursing home now and the Sykeses have her power of attorney, which means that they get to make all the decisions for her about money and things like that.”

Hephzibah breathed freely at last. “It sounds like someone needs to do something.” She stood and walked to the playroom and returned with a shoe box. She began to unpack its contents onto the table.

“I think it’s time I told you girls a story,” Hephzibah said.

“Oh yes, I love stories.” Alice-Miranda clapped her hands together. Millie looked up from buttering her scone.

Hephzibah took a sip of tea, as if steeling herself for the task ahead. Then she began. “Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a little girl called Hephzibah Caledonia …”