Free Alice-Miranda in Japan 9 by Jacqueline Harvey

tiny gold branch of cherry blossoms, while Alice-Miranda wore a small circular pendant.
    â€˜What is that?’ Jacinta asked.
    â€˜It’s a chrysanthemum,’ Hugh replied. ‘It’s a symbol of the Japanese royal family. The Emperor sits on the Chrysanthemum throne.’
    â€˜Ooh, uncomfortable,’ Jacinta said, squirming in her seat.
    Millie shook her head. ‘You’re ridiculous.’
    â€˜What?’ Jacinta said, grinning. ‘Chrysanthemums are spiky. And I’m not ridiculous, thank you very much.’
    â€˜Maybe, maybe not,’ Millie said and then turned to Hugh. ‘Thanks, Hugh.’ She slid down from her seat and gave him a hug. Jacinta did the same, followed by Alice-Miranda.
    â€˜So, I did okay?’ he asked.
    â€˜Yes, Daddy – perfect!’ Alice-Miranda smiled as she admired her pendant. ‘I’m going to wear it every day. Well, at least until we go back to school. Miss Grimm isn’t fond of jewellery with our uniforms.’
    Millie and Jacinta agreed that they would do the same.

 
    Kiko listened at the top of the basement stairs. She had stayed in the laundry as long as she dared. At least the clothes were clean and, as far as she could tell in the poor light, not pink. She’d hung everything on the taut cables that spanned the room, hoping that was how the laundry was normally dried. She didn’t mind having to do the jobs at all – in fact, she was quite enjoying doing something for others instead of studying from dawn to dusk. But she had to uncover a way out and ask for help to find the house she was seeking. She couldn’t stay with Obaasan and her squirrels forever.
    Kiko pulled her cap lower and went to tuck her hair back inside. She felt for her plait but of course it was no longer there. It was hidden inside her t-shirt. She had thought it would be more difficult – her hair had always been long – but in a couple of sharp chops it was done. She’d tidied it up as best she could and wondered what she looked like now. It was strange; she felt so much lighter.
    The house was silent. Kiko tiptoed along the hallway to her room. Once inside, she found her backpack, opened the zip and stuffed the plait in. She wondered if she might be able to sell it. Surely there were wigmakers who would pay for good quality hair. Kiko pulled out her jacket. She dug her hand into the pocket and froze. Her fingers searched every corner – then the other pocket too. But nothing.
    She up-ended the bag, wondering if it had fallen out when she’d put her jacket inside the previous evening. The diary fell to the floor and her plait tumbled on top of it but nothing else. She unzipped the front pouch. It was empty too. Kiko shook the futon, hoping desperately that her necklace had slipped out and fallen among the bedding.
    â€˜Are you in there, boy?’ Obaasan called from somewhere down the hall.
    Kiko hurriedly fixed her bed and stuffed her jacket and hair inside the backpack. She placed the diary carefully down the side and zipped the bag up. Her heart beat even faster than when she’d been caught at the turnstile in the subway. She gasped for breath.
    That boy – Taro – he must have been snooping in her room. He could have taken it, or his father, Tatsu. Kiko had felt the necklace in her pocket before she’d dozed off outside the door last night. It was right there and now it was gone. What if it had fallen out while she was sleeping on the doorstep? Kiko couldn’t think.
    She wanted to get out of the house. Her head was spinning. She ran to the hallway and looked towards the back door – but the padlocks were still in place.
    â€˜Yoshi, you come here now,’ Obaasan yelled.
    Kiko turned and saw the old woman shuffling towards her. She felt as if she might throw up.
    â€˜What are you staring at the door for? Never mind those locks. They are to keep the old people in. I can’t have