‘Oh, there were many things. Delicious breakfasts, a comfy bed, a hot shower,’ the man said. ‘A lovely little girl to meet.’
‘Thank you,’ Clementine said. ‘And no offence, Mr Johansson, but that fish paste smelled really bad.’
‘It is an acquired taste, my dear,’ the man replied, his eyes twinkling. He took the girl’s hand in his. ‘Farewell for now, Clementine Rose Appleby. I will make sure we meet again soon.’
‘Goodbye, Mr Johansson.’ Clementine smiled and gave him a wave. He was definitely one of her favourite guests in a very long time.
The excitement at Penberthy House was building. By Friday afternoon Sebastian Smote and his team had finished decorating the marquee. The ceiling was swathed in white silk and bunting, peppered with the prettiest blue and pink flowers crisscrossed from one side to the other all the way along. The painted timber chairs were exactly the same colour as Clementine’s dress and there were more fairy lights than stars in the sky. Clementine thought it was the most beautiful tent Mr Smote had ever created and that was without the flowers that were being delivered first thing Saturday morning. Aunt Violet had insisted that she would do the arrangements and had enlisted Ana Hobbs and Odette to help her.
On the morning of the wedding, Clementine awoke with a stomach full of butterflies.
‘Today is the big day,’ she whispered to Lavender, and jumped out of bed to give the little pig a scratch between her ears.
Clementine was about to pull on her dressing-gown when she spotted the white bag hanging from the front of the wardrobe door. Unable to resist taking a quick peek at her flower girl’s dress, Clementine unzipped the covering. She marvelled at the delicate embroidered flowers that Mrs Mogg had added. As her eyes swept over the fabric, Clementine noticed a tiny loose thread.
‘That shouldn’t be there,’ she said to herself.
Having watched Mrs Mogg work on countless garments, Clementine knew just what to do. She fetched a pair of scissors from her pencil case and gave the pesky thread a snip. To her shock, three pink flowers fell instantly into the palm of her hand.
‘Oh no!’ Clementine gasped.
There was now a large gaping hole in the middle of her dress. Her cheeks burned as she thought about how upset her mother and Mrs Mogg would be when they found out. Aunt Violet would be furious! Clementine felt awful and was convinced she had ruined the whole wedding.
Gulping down sobs, she carefully laid the dress on her bed and tried very hard to think of how she could fix it. The problem was, she’d never sewn anything in her life. And then she saw the answer sitting on her desk. What better way to make sure the flowers didn’t fall off again but by using a stapler?
She picked up the contraption and swallowed hard. Clementine held a flower in one hand and the stapler in the other and was just about to give it a go when Sophie pushed open the door.
‘Guess what, Clemmie? Basil phoned to say Cosmo is missing. We’re going to – Oh la vache! What are you doing?’ she exclaimed, clutching her cheeks in horror.
Clementine’s chin trembled. ‘My dress is broken,’ she said.
‘You can’t fix it like that.’ Sophie’s eyes were huge. ‘I’ll get Mama.’
Before Clementine had time to object, Sophie dashed away and returned with Odette in tow. The woman had brought her small sewing box and flashed Clementine a reassuring smile.
‘It looks like I got ’ere in the nick of time, chérie,’ she said, and set to work mending Clementine’s dress.
Meanwhile, downstairs, Aunt Violet was pacing the length of the kitchen.
‘They were supposed to be here by now,’ she grouched, staring daggers at the clock on the wall.
‘Why don’t you give the flower farm a call?’ Uncle Digby suggested.
Violet Appleby strode over to the telephone and dialled the number, which rang and rang until it stopped. ‘Good grief, where are they?’ she blustered. ‘If the flowers don’t arrive soon, we’ll never get the arrangements done in time.’
Digby put the kettle on, having decided that the best way to calm the situation was tea – and lots of it.
‘Hello, hello, who’s getting married today?’ Sebastian Smote’s voice trilled through the hallway, heralding his arrival.
Aunt Violet looked up and gasped, shielding her eyes. The man had worn some ridiculous outfits before but this one took the biscuit. Her lips quivered with distaste. ‘What on earth are you wearing?’ she asked.
The man struck a pose. ‘Isn’t it divine? I wanted to be perfect for Clarissa’s wedding.’
But neither divine nor perfect were the words on the tip of Violet Appleby’s tongue. She wasn’t sure when puce-coloured three-piece suits, spotted blue cravats and matching pocket squares adorned with more jewellery than she’d ever owned had come into vogue. There was one thing for sure – no one was going to miss him this afternoon. To top off his crime against fashion, the man wore a fedora at a most unsuitable jaunty angle.
‘You look ridiculous,’ Aunt Violet said, unwilling to hold her tongue a second longer. ‘You should change at once and, while you’re at it, you can get rid of that dreadful cherub fountain in the middle of the front lawn. It’s not staying. And where are my flowers?’
For a second Mr Smote looked positively stung. He recovered quickly, having been on the receiving end of the woman’s barbs many times before. Besides, he knew she didn’t mean it. If there was one thing the two of them had in common, it was an extraordinary sense of style.
‘Surprise, surprise, I have a matching fountain for the back lawn too,’ Sebastian mumbled, then consulted his pocket watch.
Violet glared at the man. ‘What did you say?’
‘Nothing at all and yes, you’re right. The flowers should have well and truly arrived by now,’ he said, frowning.
‘Then do something. You’re in charge of the wedding. Make it happen!’ Violet ordered.
Sebastian pulled out his telephone and dialled, running into the exact same problem that Violet had encountered minutes before.
She looked at him expectantly. ‘Well?’
Mr Smote’s lip curled. ‘This is most unlike my supplier. Mrs Trelawning is very reliable. Unless you gave her the wrong time when you changed the order the other day?’
‘I did no such thing!’ Aunt Violet grabbed her handbag from the dresser. ‘If your beloved Mrs Trelawning can’t deliver on her promises, I guess I’ll have to collect the flowers myself.’
She stormed into the foyer, past Clementine and Sophie, who were thudding down the stairs. Jules had taken himself out into the garden to search for Cosmo when his sister had gone to find Clementine.
‘Where are you going, Aunt Violet?’ Clementine asked, running after her.
‘To get the flowers,’ the woman called, rushing out to her car in front of the garage and pulling open the driver’s door. She fished about in her handbag for the keys then realised she’d left them inside. ‘Drat,’ she griped and charged back into the house.
‘We should help her,’ Clementine said. In truth, she wanted to be as far away from her dress as possible, lest she wreak more havoc upon it. ‘And we can keep an eye out for Cosmo on the way.’
Clementine and Sophie climbed into the shiny red car and buckled their seatbelts.
Aunt Violet raced out the door and jumped into the driver’s seat, spinning her wheels on the gravel and roaring off down the road.
Clementine and Sophie looked at each other and giggled, but Aunt Violet didn’t hear a thing. She was a woman on a mission. It wasn’t until she’d overtaken three other cars that Clementine finally piped up.
‘Aunt Violet, I thought you weren’t going to speed anymore,’ she said from the back seat.
Startled, the old woman swerved and almost lost control of the vehicle altogether. She quickly regained her composure and planted her foot on the brake, bringing the car to a screeching halt.
‘What are you two doing in here?’ she sputtered, clutching at her chest.
Clementine looked back at her great-aunt with wide, innocent eyes. ‘Helping,’ she replied.
Violet huffed loudly. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure of that.’
To prove her usefulness, Clementine suggested they take a short cut to the flower farm. ‘It’s down that road up there,’ she said, and leaned forward between the seats, pointing.
Aunt Violet looked at her dubiously. ‘Are you absolutely positive?’
‘Yes, that’s the way Mummy and I went with Mr Smote a few weeks ago,’ the child replied. Sophie nodded in support.
Violet Appleby shrugged. ‘Very well, then,’ she said. ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’
She turned left into the road, just as the van loaded with her delivery puttered past in the opposite direction.
It was a pity no one in the car noticed.
Violet Appleby drove on past fields of colourful blooms.
‘Surely it can’t be much further,’ she muttered, hunched over the steering wheel.
Clementine looked out the window, trying to remember. She had a bad feeling that the road they were searching for had been the next one along and not this one at all.
Suddenly, a frisky black cow dashed across in front of them, only metres ahead.
‘Look out!’ Clementine yelled.
The old woman swerved sharply to miss the beast. The car skidded off the side of the road and into a muddy ditch, jolting to a halt.
Aunt Violet looked around at the girls. ‘Is everyone all right?’ she asked.
Clementine and Sophie nodded.
‘It’s lucky you were driving slowly for a change,’ Clementine said.
‘Where on earth did that animal come from?’ Aunt Violet shook her head and smoothed her hair. She put the gears into reverse and stamped her foot on the accelerator. There was no time to lose.
But the car didn’t move.
Sophie and Clementine turned and looked behind them as a shower of thick brown mud spattered all over the boot and onto the rear windscreen.
‘We’re bogged,’ Clementine said.
‘But I don’t have time to be bogged,’ Aunt Violet snapped. ‘We have got to collect the flowers and get back.’
‘This is a disaster,’ Clementine whispered to Sophie. ‘We’re going to have to walk home and it’s really far. What if we miss the wedding?’
Aunt Violet persisted with her foot on the accelerator until the girls could no longer see out of the back window. With an exasperated grunt, the old woman stepped out of the car, promptly disappearing up to her waist in the oozy muck.
Clementine and Sophie gasped.
‘Help!’ Aunt Violet yelped.
The girls hastily unbuckled their seatbelts and peered out at the muddy quagmire. Sophie slid back to her side and opened the door.
‘Clemmie, this way!’ she urged.
The two girls exited the car from the other side and ran around to see what they could do.
Aunt Violet was clinging to the open car door, doing her utmost to stay upright.
‘Argh!’ the woman squawked, struggling to lift her leg.
‘You’re going to have to get into the car and climb across the seats,’ Clementine said.
‘But what about my upholstery?’ the woman moaned. ‘It’s cream.’
Clementine shrugged. ‘You could wade out around the back. It doesn’t look as deep there.’
Aunt Violet wiped her forehead, leaving a long brown streak.
Just as she was about to try her luck, Basil’s car appeared over the rise. Clementine and Sophie jumped up and down, waving their arms to get the man’s attention. Basil pulled up in the middle of the road and he and his three children leapt out of the car.
‘What a relief that you came along!’ Clementine exclaimed. ‘Aunt Violet is stuck.’
‘Help!’ the woman yelled. ‘Get me out of here.’
Basil ran around to the driver’s side of the car and found a dry piece of ground to stand on. He couldn’t help himself and laughed loudly. ‘Oh, Miss Appleby, are you all right?’
‘Do I look as if I’m all right? Don’t just stand there! Do something!’ Aunt Violet ordered.
‘Here, Dad.’ Teddy jogged further along the road and located a long branch. He dragged it back to his father, and the two of them and Mintie held on to it while Aunt Violet hauled herself out of the bog.
‘Look at me!’ the woman wailed.
Basil smiled, hoping he had a towel or two in his car so she could wipe off some of the thick goo before she got in. ‘It’s nothing a shower won’t fix,’ he said amiably, ‘and think how smooth your skin will be. Some women pay a fortune for a good old mud bath.’
Back at Penberthy House, Jules had combed the garden for Cosmo and was completely baffled about where the girls had disappeared to. A van had arrived a little while ago and Mr Smote had been rushing around directing the delivery of buckets upon buckets of flowers. Jules decided to head up to see if the girls were in Clementine’s bedroom. As he ascended the main staircase, Clarissa poked her head out of the Rose Room, where she was getting ready. She looked like a flower herself, with huge rollers covering her head.
‘Jules, have you seen Clemmie?’ she asked.
The lad shook his head. ‘I’m just looking for her and Sophie,’ he replied.
Clarissa smiled. ‘Well, when you find them, can you tell Clemmie that she needs to come and get her hair done?’
Jules grinned and nodded.
‘I know – I hope I look better than this once they’re finished too,’ Clarissa giggled.
Jules raced to the top floor and poked his head into Clementine’s room. The girls weren’t there. He walked along the hall to the end of the corridor and into the bedroom at the rear of the house, which overlooked the garden. He could see a lot from there.
As he scanned the grounds he spotted something moving at the western edge of the marquee. It looked like a tail swishing back and forth and it didn’t belong to Lavender or Pharaoh.
‘Cosmo!’ the boy gasped. He lifted the windowpane and called to the cavoodle.
Sebastian Smote heard the lad’s cry as he was carrying two vases full of flowers from the kitchen. ‘What’s going on up there?’ he yelled.
‘Cosmo, the Hobbs’s dog,’ Jules shouted, pointing at the creature. But the man didn’t appear to understand.
Jules shut the window and bolted to the back stairs, taking two or three at a time.
Outside, Cosmo had found something to play with. He was tugging and tugging and growling and shaking his head, trying to get the knot free when, with one last pull, a row of bunting fell to the ground. Delighted with his handiwork, Cosmo grabbed the end of it in his teeth. He ran with the length of material and its triangular flaps trailing behind.
Sebastian Smote was stepping into the marquee when he was almost bowled over by the beast and his prize. ‘What are you doing, you naughty dog?’
The man spun around twice and barely managed to keep hold of the vases in his arms. But Cosmo was having way too much fun. He wanted the man to join in, so he ran around and around in circles until Sebastian’s legs were tangled. Jules ran over and caught one of the vases before it hit the ground. Then he scooped up the pup and held him tight.
‘Good heavens, where did this canine intruder come from?’ Sebastian steadied himself and began to unwrap the length of material from around his legs.
‘He belongs to the Hobbses,’ Jules said. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after him.’
‘What a mess!’ Sebastian wailed, and began directing his helpers to put things back together. In tearing down the bunting, Cosmo had also managed to knock over several chairs, a table and the second cherub fountain Sebastian had snuck in at the last minute.
Jules carried Cosmo around to the front of the house just as Basil pulled up in the driveway.
‘Cosmo!’ the children squealed, tumbling out of the car.
‘Where did you two go?’ Jules asked Clementine and Sophie. His eyes almost pop
ped out of his head when he spotted Aunt Violet covered from top to bottom in a crusty layer of mud.
‘Aunt Violet ran off the road and we went in a bog,’ Clementine explained.
‘It was hardly my fault,’ the woman grumbled, and stormed into the house.
Basil took Cosmo from Jules’s arms and cuddled the dog. ‘I hope he didn’t get up to any mischief.’
Jules shrugged. ‘Only a little. Clemmie, you need to go upstairs to the Rose Room and have your hair done.’ The boy was glad he remembered.
‘Sophie, can you make sure Lavender is wearing her ribbon and can you bring her out for the ceremony?’ Clementine asked her friend. They’d arranged it all before and Odette had offered to help tie the bow.
Ana and Odette appeared on the front steps. ‘Do you need a hand with anything?’ Basil asked.
‘We’re all done.’ Ana smiled. ‘But we’d better hurry home and get ready. Drew called to say he’d left his bow tie here, so we’ve got to drop it off to him at Crabtree Cottage.’
‘Come on, Jules and Sophie,’ Odette called. ‘Time to get changed.’
Aunt Violet charged through the house and out to the marquee, where Sebastian Smote and his team were putting the finishing touches to the flowers. He looked at her, his lips quivering.
‘Don’t say a word,’ she ordered, inspecting the arrangements.
The man gulped, waiting for her to deliver her judgement.
‘They’ll do,’ she said, and stomped away inside.
Clementine raced upstairs to the Rose Room.
‘Sorry I’m late, Mummy. We got stuck in a bog with Aunt Violet but we’re back now, except her car is still in the mud,’ she explained. Her mother was sitting at the dressing table and there was a tall lady with long red fingernails doing her hair. Another woman was dusting her face with powder.
‘I don’t think I want to know the details, Clemmie,’ Clarissa said, and spun around. ‘As long as everyone is safe.’
Clementine Rose and the Wedding Wobbles Page 5