Alice-Miranda in the Alps by Jacqueline Harvey Page A

he’ll get to join the club.’
    Millie looked at him. ‘What club?’
    â€˜Everyone who crashes at that corner joins the Shuttlecock Club,’ the man said impatiently, craning his neck to see if he could spot the human missile.
    All of a sudden the whooshing of the sled stopped.
    â€˜Look! There he is!’ Lucas pointed at the figure in the air.
    The crowd gasped.
    Shilly covered her eyes. ‘I can’t watch.’
    â€˜Stupid man,’ Dolly muttered, wringing her hands.
    Time seemed to expand in the seconds that followed as the spectators watched the events unfold in slow motion. Cyril hurtled through the air and disappeared into a cloud of snow.
    â€˜Is he all right?’ Shilly asked, still hiding behind her hands.
    The group looked towards the commentator’s box above them.
    â€˜Medics,’ the loudspeaker blared. ‘Could we get the medics to Shuttlecock immediately?’
    Shilly placed her hands across her chest. ‘Good heavens.’
    â€˜He’s going to be fine,’ Cecelia told the group, hoping it were true.
    â€˜Can we get to him?’ Mrs Oliver asked the man who had foretold Cyril’s fate.
    â€˜Leave it to the professionals,’ the fellow replied calmly. ‘They’ve got all the equipment down there, and if he has to be taken to hospital they’ll have a snowmobile ready. Believe me, he’s not the first to come off there and he won’t be the last.’
    â€˜Hospital!’ Shilly gasped. ‘He shouldn’t have been on that course in the first place. Why are men so … so … stubborn?’
    No one spoke a word as all eyes were focused on the middle section of the track.
    â€˜He’s moving,’ the announcer said, looking through his binoculars. ‘Although, that shoulder seems to be at a very strange angle. They’re loading him onto the snowmobile and …’
    â€˜Come on!’ Shilly shouted up at the commentator. ‘Don’t give us half the story, man!’
    â€˜He’s raised his good arm and he’s giving the thumbs up,’ the man blurted.
    There was a huge cheer from the small crowd.
    Dolly and Shilly hugged one another, and Cecelia allowed herself to breathe again. ‘Thank heavens for that,’ she said to her husband. ‘So are you still keen to have a go?’
    Hugh looked at her sheepishly. ‘Maybe not today.’
    â€˜He was never going to do it, Mummy,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘He was only teasing.’
    Cecelia smiled and squeezed her daughter’s shoulder. ‘When it comes to your father, I can never be too sure.’
    The mosquito motor of the snowmobile buzzed as the vehicle carried Cyril to the top of the track. The family rushed down from the balcony and up the course to meet them. The wailing of an ambulance siren sounded in the distance.
    â€˜Good Lord, Cyril, you were flying,’ Hugh said with a grin. ‘Pity you stacked it.’
    â€˜Looks like that’s the end of my Cresta ambitions,’ the man said wryly.
    â€˜You were awesome,’ Lucas said. ‘Did you know you were on track to beat the record?’
    â€˜Seriously?’ Cyril looked at the lad.
    Sep nodded. ‘We couldn’t believe how fast you were going.’
    â€˜Neither could I. I lost my footing not long after the start and then I just couldn’t get it again. Thank heavens for that corner or I think you might have been scraping me off the barrier at the end,’ Cyril joked, then winced as two medics began to examine his injuries.
    â€˜We’re going to have to pop that shoulder back in,’ one of them said.
    â€˜And you’ll need to go to hospital so they can check if you have a concussion,’ the other added. She directed Cyril to watch her pointer finger as she moved it from side to side.
    â€˜I’ll go with him,’ Hugh said, watching the medics ready the