Clementine Rose and the Perfect Present 3

by Jacqueline Harvey

  Mrs Gunalingam nodded. After a few minutes alone with the woman she knew exactly what Clementine was talking about.

  Clementine caught up to her great-aunt in the hallway.

  ‘Violet Appleby,’ said Aunt Violet as she looked at the mother and daughter. She didn’t feel the need for any additional niceties.

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Miss Appleby.’ Harriet Fox extended her hand, which Aunt Violet ignored completely.

  ‘Your rooms are on the second floor. Let me see –’ Aunt Violet scanned the list, which was attached to a plastic clipboard. ‘Mr and Mrs Fox are in the Peony Suite and Harriet, you’re in the Rose Room.’

  ‘What about Uncle Orville? Roberta asked.

  Aunt Violet ran her finger down the list. ‘He’s not here.’ She tapped the pen she was holding on the page.

  ‘What do you mean he’s not here?’ Roberta Fox fumed. ‘Of course he’s here.’ She went to snatch the clipboard from Aunt Violet’s hand.

  Aunt Violet clutched it to her chest.

  ‘Give me that!’ Roberta tugged at the board.

  Aunt Violet made a fierce face at her. ‘No!’

  ‘Your niece said that she could accommodate the whole family and Uncle Orville is part of the family so I want to see where she has put him.’

  Aunt Violet clung to the clipboard.

  ‘Oh look,’ Roberta Fox peered over Aunt Violet’s shoulder. ‘There’s Uncle Orville with your father now.’

  Aunt Violet turned and just as she did, Roberta Fox tore the clipboard out of her hands.

  ‘Why, you!’ Aunt Violet’s mouth gaped open.

  Roberta scanned the list. ‘I think you’ve been doing some creative rearranging, Miss Appleby. Just wait until your niece gets wind of this.’

  ‘It’s my house and I can put people wherever I jolly well want,’ Aunt Violet huffed.

  Roberta Fox wrinkled her nose like an angry otter. ‘Why don’t you go and make a fresh pot of tea? This little one can help us find our rooms.’

  ‘I can do that,’ Clementine agreed.

  Aunt Violet stormed towards the kitchen.

  The front door opened and Mr Fox appeared at last with Uncle Orville in tow. The old man wore a smart suit with a waistcoat and a bowler hat. Clementine thought he looked as if his face could do with an iron – there were so many crinkles.

  ‘It says here that Uncle Orville is in the Daffodil Room,’ said Mrs Fox.

  Clementine gasped. ‘But that’s my room.’ She wondered when her mother had planned to tell her about that.

  ‘All right then, shall we go?’ asked Hector Fox. He looked at Clementine, who was suddenly feeling a lot less excited about the wedding party.

  Clementine led the group upstairs. First she showed Harriet to the Rose Room, which she seemed to like very much. The Peony Suite was a little further along the corridor. Then she had to take Uncle Orville up to her room. She was surprised when she opened the door to find that most of her things had gone and even her wardrobe was bare. It can’t have been a mistake. Her mother had clearly planned to give her room away.

  ‘I hope you like it,’ Clementine said grumpily. She looked around for Lavender’s basket and even that was missing. ‘Stupid wedding,’ she said under her breath.

  ‘Thank you, dear,’ the old man said. He smiled sweetly at her. ‘It’s a very nice room.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ she snapped. ‘That’s because it’s mine.’

  ‘No, no, dear, I don’t need anything else. I’ll be fine.’ The man nodded and put his tiny suitcase on the bed to unpack.

  Clementine walked out of the room and down the hallway. She knew she shouldn’t be cross about having to give up her room but she wished that her mother had warned her. And why couldn’t Aunt Violet have given up her room instead? Clemmie stopped at her mother’s bedroom door. She turned the handle and peered inside. Her schoolbag, her doll’s house and all her toys were piled in the corner. She opened the wardrobe. Her mother had hung all of Clementine’s clothes inside and Lavender’s basket was at the bottom. A mattress was made up at the foot of her mother’s bed. And in the corner she noticed a large suitcase.

  Downstairs, the doorbell rang again. As Clementine scurried downstairs, a terrible thought came to her. She hadn’t seen Pharaoh or Lavender for a long time. Her mother would be very unhappy if they’d been locked in one of the guest rooms.

  Clementine opened the front door. A handsome young man was standing on the step. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’m Ryan. The groom.’

  ‘Hello.’ Clementine held the clipboard in front of her. She felt very official and important. ‘Do you want to check which room you’re in?’ she asked. ‘I can’t read much yet. I’m only five.’

  The man took the page and had a quick look.

  ‘Here it is. I’m in the Blue Room.’

  ‘The Blue Room?’ Clementine said nervously. ‘But that’s Aunt Violet’s room.’

  ‘Sorry? Do you think there’s been a mistake?’ he asked.

  Clementine shook her head. ‘No. I’ll show you where it is.’ She marched upstairs feeling quite pleased. If it was good enough for her to give up her room, then it was good enough for Aunt Violet too.

  It wasn’t long before the groom’s parents arrived, completing the wedding party staying at the house. Clementine helped them to their rooms without any assistance from Aunt Violet, who was still making tea.

  Clementine invited everyone to the kitchen – not that Mrs Fox was impressed at all.

  Everyone seemed to know each other, which Aunt Violet found a blessed relief. She hated making small talk. Clemmie was pleased to see that Pharaoh and Lavender had emerged from their hiding place and were now playing a vigorous game of chasings with the three children.

  ‘Clementine, why don’t you take the children and Lavender for a walk in the garden,’ Aunt Violet said testily.

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure about that,’ said Karthika anxiously. ‘It’s getting cold outside.’

  ‘It was not a suggestion,’ said Aunt Violet.

  ‘Let’s go and get your coats, shall we?’ Karthika instructed.

  The telephone rang and Clemmie ran to pick it up. ‘Hello, Penberthy House,’ she said, just as her mother had taught her. ‘Oh, hello Mummy. Is Uncle Digby all right?’

  Her mother could hear the hubbub in the background. ‘What’s happening there, Clemmie?’ she asked.

  ‘Afternoon tea,’ the girl replied.

  ‘In the kitchen?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Yes, Aunt Violet said that it was a pain to have it in the dining room or the sitting room.’

  ‘Oh, good gracious!’ Lady Clarissa fussed. ‘These people are paying very good money to stay at the house. I’m sure they didn’t expect tea in the kitchen.’

  ‘No, Mrs Fox was very cross,’ Clemmie informed her mother quietly, as she didn’t want the woman to hear her.

  ‘Did everyone find their rooms?’ Clarissa asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Clemmie replied.

  ‘Clemmie, I’m sorry about moving you. There was a last-minute change of plans and I didn’t have time to tell you or Aunt Violet. Is she very upset?’

  ‘I don’t know, but she and Mrs Fox had a fight,’ Clemmie explained.

  Lady Clarissa groaned. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can. Can you ask Aunt Violet to put the legs of lamb in the oven, please? She’ll need to peel the potatoes too – they’re on the sink. Mrs Mogg will be there in a little while – I called and asked her to help with the dinner.’

  ‘Is Uncle Digby all right?’ Clemmie asked her mother again.

  ‘We’re not sure,’ her mother said truthfully. ‘But he’s being very well looked after.’

  Clementine suddenly felt sick herself. She didn’t care about having to share her room with her mother or even Aunt Violet. She just wanted Uncle Digby to be better and back at home where he belonged.

  Clementine hung up the telephone and quietly informed Aunt Violet what her mother needed done. Aunt Violet could
n’t believe that she was going to have to prepare the evening meal too. This was far too much. She immediately set about clearing the afternoon tea.

  ‘But I haven’t finished,’ Roberta Fox said in astonishment. She clung to her teacup as Aunt Violet picked up the woman’s plate, which still contained a large chunk of cake.

  ‘Perhaps you should eat a little more quickly, Mrs Fox,’ Aunt Violet said. ‘Some of us have work to do.’

  ‘If you’d served the tea in the sitting room, you wouldn’t have this problem now, Miss Appleby.’ Roberta tugged the plate from Aunt Violet’s grip and set it down with a thud.

  Aunt Violet narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t about to admit that the woman was probably right.

  ‘Run along, Clementine,’ Aunt Violet instructed. ‘Take those little ones outside.’

  It was the last thing Clementine felt like doing but she decided it was better not to argue with Aunt Violet. She took her coat from the peg by the back door, pulled on her boots and ushered the three children out into the garden. Lavender followed hot on their heels.

  ‘She’s lovely,’ Alisha said to Clementine as she bent down to give the piggy a scratch.

  ‘Yes, she is,’ Clementine agreed. But she couldn’t bring herself to smile. She was too worried about Uncle Digby. And lurking in the back of her mind was the unpleasant memory of seeing Joshua at Mrs Mogg’s shop. He’d seemed so pleased about Angus’s birthday party.

  ‘Are you sad?’ Arya asked.

  Clementine nodded. ‘Uncle Digby never gets sick.’ She didn’t want to say that she was upset about Angus’s stupid party too.

  ‘Don’t worry. Our daddy is an expert at broken hearts. I’m sure he can fix your uncle,’ Arya told Clementine seriously. She reached out to hold Clementine’s hand.

  Clementine took it. ‘Really?’ she asked.

  ‘It’s true,’ Arya said, smiling now. ‘Mummy said that he went to school forever to learn how to do it.’

  Clementine felt a little bit better already. ‘Would you like to see the garden?’

  A chorus of ‘yes’ went up. It was good to have something to take her mind off Uncle Digby and the hospital, Clementine decided.

  ‘Let’s see if Mr Smote has finished his decorations inside the marquee,’ Clementine said. ‘That’s just a fancy name for the tent,’ she told the younger two, who nodded their heads up and down.

  Aksara ran ahead but jumped back when he saw the lions guarding the entrance. His eyes were huge.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Clementine reassured the little boy. ‘They’re not real.’ She pulled back the heavy fabric that had been hung across the doorway. He tiptoed past the lions.

  Clementine gasped as she took in the decorations. ‘Mr Smote is a magician.’

  The ceiling was draped with the most beautiful shimmering silver fabric and a giant crystal chandelier hung from the centre. The chairs looked like presents, wrapped up with bows on their backs, and the tables were laid with shiny silverware and white plates with silver trim.

  Clementine spied the magician himself on the far side of the marquee, and walked towards him. ‘Hello Mr Smote.’

  ‘Hello there, Clementine. What do you think?’ He held his arms out with a flourish.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Clemmie sighed.

  ‘And the flowers aren’t even here yet.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘Just wait until you see it tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Mummy says I can only poke my head in. I’m not going to the wedding, but my friends are.’ She motioned at the children who were standing beside her. ‘It’s their uncle who’s getting married.’

  ‘Well, I do hope that you enjoy yourselves,’ Mr Smote said. ‘And what do you think of my lions?’

  Aksara looked up at him with wide eyes. ‘Big.’

  The girls giggled.

  ‘Yes, they are, aren’t they? I’ve heard that the groom loves them,’ said Mr Smote.

  Arya nodded. ‘Our daddy’s his brother and he does too.’

  ‘Well, you’d better be running along. I have to get home to paint a castle,’ said Mr Smote.

  ‘A castle?’ Clementine gasped. Penberthy House was big enough. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live in a castle.

  ‘How do you paint a castle?’ Arya asked.

  Mr Smote looked at the children’s stunned faces. ‘Oh no, I’m not painting a real castle. My godson is having a birthday party next week and I offered to create a miniature castle for the party.’

  Clementine couldn’t believe her ears. She wondered if Mr Smote was Angus’s godfather. If he was in charge of the party then it would be incredible for sure. She wished even harder now that she could go.

  ‘All right, I’m about to lock up for the night,’ Mr Smote said as he walked towards the entrance.

  Clementine was curious about how he could do that. Tents didn’t have proper doors, after all.

  ‘You don’t need to lock up,’ Arya said.

  ‘Why not?’ Mr Smote asked

  ‘Because there are lions on guard,’ she said with a smile.

  Mr Smote laughed. ‘Yes, you’re right about that.’

  ‘And a pig too,’ Clementine added. Lavender was sitting right in the middle of the two stone beasts.

  ‘She’s a guard pig,’ Alisha giggled. Lavender grunted as if to agree.

  The children headed back inside just before dark. Clementine had decided the best thing she could do was forget all about Angus and his party and concentrate on the wedding and playing with her three new friends.

  Mrs Gunalingam met them at the back door and guided her children straight upstairs to their baths.

  Inside, Margaret Mogg was stirring the gravy on the stove. Clementine stood on tiptoe to watch. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Mrs Mogg.’

  ‘We couldn’t let the guests starve, could we?’ said Mrs Mogg. She left the wooden spoon in the saucepan and opened the oven to check on the lamb.

  Clementine’s nostrils twitched. ‘It smells delicious. Is Mummy home yet?’

  ‘She telephoned a little while ago. Aunt Violet is driving over to pick her and the doctor up,’ Mrs Mogg explained.

  ‘That’s a relief,’ said Clementine.

  The sound of the front door opening distracted the pair and Clementine ran off into the hallway.

  ‘Mummy!’ Clementine launched herself at her mother’s waist. From out of nowhere, tears sprang from her eyes and she began to cry in big shuddery sobs.

  ‘Oh Clemmie, sweetheart, what is it?’ Her mother knelt down and Clementine clung to her like a periwinkle in a rock pool.

  ‘I – don’t – know,’ she gulped.

  ‘Clemmie, Uncle Digby will be fine. Please don’t worry. He wouldn’t want to see you like this.’

  Lady Clarissa brushed a rogue strand of hair from Clementine’s wet face. ‘I know it’s been a difficult day, what with all the excitement of the wedding and then the worry about Uncle Digby. But I’m sure that tomorrow will be much brighter.’

  Clementine didn’t tell her that she’d been upset about seeing Joshua and hearing Mr Smote talk about a party too, or that she was mad about having to give up her room, or that Aunt Violet had been even crosser than usual. She didn’t want to sound like a crybaby.

  ‘Come along, Clemmie. Let’s go and wash your face and then we can get ready for dinner. Mrs Mogg has been busy – something smells delicious.’

  Lady Clarissa stood up. Clementine grabbed her hand and the two of them walked to the downstairs bathroom where Clementine splashed some water on her face and dried her eyes.

  ‘Where’s Aunt Violet?’ Clementine asked between sniffs.

  ‘She went straight upstairs to move her things into Uncle Digby’s room for the night. I had to tell her in the car that I’d given her room away too and she’d be bunking in with us. But now, of course, with Uncle Digby away, she’s decided to take his room. She wasn’t nearly as cross as I expected but I think that was because Dr Gunalingam was in the car too. No doubt I�
��ll hear about it later when everyone’s gone home.’

  Clementine nodded. Her mother was right about that.

  No one noticed the little pile of mail on the hall table. Just as Aunt Violet had been about to leave to pick up Lady Clarissa and the doctor, Father Bob had turned up on the doorstep clutching a bundle of letters that had been among his mail. He’d been very surprised to find them, as Mrs Mogg never made mistakes with the post. Then again, she had left Mr Mogg in charge on Thursday afternoon when she’d been helping at Penberthy House and Clyde wasn’t known for his attention to detail.

  Lady Clarissa glanced at the kitchen clock. It was already past midnight and she had just finished the washing up and sent Margaret Mogg on her way. Fortunately, dinner had gone well and the guests seemed to be enjoying themselves. She thought that the bride and groom seemed very well suited, although Roberta Fox had certainly not been any less demanding in person. Clarissa had been glad when Aunt Violet skulked off to bed early complaining of another imaginary ailment. Her aunt had done enough damage that day and Clarissa thought she couldn’t possibly upset anyone from her bed.

  In the eerie quiet, Lady Clarissa wondered if Uncle Digby was all right. She missed him terribly; over the years she’d come to rely on him as much as she would have her own father. A tear spilled onto her cheek and she brushed it away. She couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to him. She shook the notion from her head. Of course he’d be fine – there wasn’t any other option.

  Meanwhile upstairs, Aunt Violet awoke wishing she hadn’t had that last cup of tea before bed. She peered into the darkness. After a few moments she remembered that she had been banished to Pertwhistle’s bedroom, which at least had a bathroom attached. In fact, it wasn’t a bad room at all. Perhaps she’d swap. She tottered off to the toilet, not bothering to put on the light.

  Further down the hallway, Orville Fox felt the same urge. He put on his dressing-gown and slippers and headed along the corridor to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he shuffled back to his room and opened the door, stubbing his toe and wondering who had put the wooden trunk near the bed in the time he’d been out.