‘All right, I’ll call you first thing in the morning,’ Dr Wanner said as he carefully placed Lavender into the carry case. ‘I promise.’
Clementine rubbed the sleep from the corners of her eyes as she struggled to recall the dream she’d been having. All she knew was that it was about Lavender and it made her tummy feel funny. Clementine had just stretched her arms above her head when her mother’s face appeared around the door.
‘Good morning, sweetheart,’ Lady Clarissa said with a smile.
The events of the previous day came rushing back and suddenly Clementine was wide awake. ‘Is Lavender all right?’ she asked, sitting up.
Her mother nodded and walked over to sit on the bed. ‘Dr Wanner called earlier and said that, although Lavender had a shivery night, she’s had a bite of breakfast and seems to be on the mend.’
Clementine hugged her mother. ‘That’s the best news ever,’ she said, her words slightly muffled. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to her.’
‘We all feel the same, sweetheart.’ Lady Clarissa gently ran her fingers through the child’s hair as she spoke. ‘Aunt Violet was out of bed before six this morning and so was Uncle Digby, and they were both as eager as I was to hear from Dr Wanner.’
‘Can we pick her up now?’ Clementine asked.
‘I’m afraid not. Dr Wanner would like to keep Lavender for another night or two, just to make sure that she’s absolutely fine.’
Clementine’s face fell.
‘Oh, darling, don’t be sad. Dr Wanner said we can call in after school.’
Clementine whooped and leapt out of bed. ‘I’m going to take her favourite mini soccer ball so she knows we can play when she comes home.’
Her mother quickly helped the child out of her pyjamas and tugged her uniform on over her head.
‘Are you all right to do your hair, Clemmie?’ Lady Clarissa asked. ‘I’ve got to get back downstairs and check on some cakes in the oven. We’ve got a houseful of guests arriving later this morning.’
Clementine looked at her mother quizzically as she picked up her hairbrush and ran it through her messy locks. ‘A whole houseful?’
‘Yes.’ Lady Clarissa smiled. ‘Basil recommended us to some of his colleagues who are having a small conference. With the conference and the wedding in a couple of weeks, and that huge family reunion the week after, we might be able to finish the renovations to the rest of the house.’ Lady Clarissa smiled as she headed for the door.
‘Mummy,’ Clementine called, and Clarissa turned around. ‘I’m so happy that Lavender is going to be all right.’
Lady Clarissa grinned. ‘Me too, darling. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.’
‘I had such bad dreams,’ Clementine said, ‘and a sore tummy.’
‘Well, I’m sure your tummy will feel much better once you get some breakfast into it. Put your shoes on and I’ll see you downstairs,’ Lady Clarissa said, and disappeared into the hall.
Clementine studied her great-aunt as they sped towards school in Aunt Violet’s shiny red car. The old woman was looking even more stylish than usual. ‘You look pretty today, Aunt Violet,’ Clementine said.
The woman glanced at the child in the rear-vision mirror. ‘Thank you, Clementine. It’s a miracle as I hardly got a wink of sleep last night.’
‘Were you worrying about Lavender too?’ Clementine asked.
Aunt Violet frowned. ‘Yes, that must have been it.’
‘Will you take me to see her after school?’ Clementine asked.
‘No, I can’t pick you up today,’ Aunt Violet said.
‘Then who’s picking me up? Mummy said that she’s got a houseful of guests arriving.’
‘Pertwhistle will have to, or perhaps your mother has organised for Ana or Basil to collect you with the Hobbs children,’ Aunt Violet replied.
Clementine’s tummy twisted. She hoped she’d still be able to see Lavender after school. ‘What are you doing today, Aunt Violet?’ she asked.
‘I’m busy,’ the woman replied mysteriously.
‘That’s what you said yesterday. Do you have a boyfriend or something?’ Clementine said, wondering if old ladies could still have boyfriends.
‘Good heavens, no!’ Aunt Violet protested loudly. ‘If you must know, Little Miss Busybody, I have a job.’
Clementine’s face contorted. ‘A job? But Uncle Digby said you’ve never done a day’s work in your whole life.’
‘Did he now? I’ll have you know that’s not true at all. I’ve had plenty of jobs. I just don’t like to talk about them, that’s all,’ Aunt Violet sniffed. ‘And you’re not to tell anyone, either. I’ll inform your mother and Pertwhistle when I’m good and ready.’
‘What sort of job is it?’ Clementine asked.
Aunt Violet exhaled loudly. ‘Must you know every detail?’
‘It’s not fair to tell me half the story. I’ll spend all day wondering what sort of job it is instead of concentrating on my schoolwork,’ Clementine explained.
‘Well, what sort of job do you think I have?’ Aunt Violet asked.
Clementine thought for a moment. ‘Mmm, pet shop lady?’
Aunt Violet raised an eyebrow at her.
‘A cafe worker?’ Clementine tried again.
Aunt Violet shook her head. ‘Do I look like I’d enjoy making cappuccinos all day?’
Clementine bit her lip. ‘I suppose not. You don’t even like making cups of tea.’
‘Think about the things I like and then perhaps you’ll get it.’ Aunt Violet’s eyes twinkled. She was beginning to enjoy this game.
Clementine tapped a finger against her cheek. ‘You like sleeping a lot, but I don’t think you can get a job doing that.’ The child’s eyes widened. ‘Your favourite thing in the whole world is clothes.’
Aunt Violet nodded. ‘I’m doing some modelling, as a matter of fact.’
‘Aren’t you a bit old for that?’ Clementine tried to picture her great-aunt in a bikini on the pages of a fashion magazine.
‘I’m not advertising swimwear, Clementine,’ the woman replied, as if reading the child’s mind. ‘Mature women buy clothes too, you know. I’m doing some fashion parades for that lovely new dress shop in Highton Mill, across the road from Pierre’s. Elaine, the owner, is putting them on for the local ladies’ clubs, and I’m one of the models. I may also work a few afternoons in her shop.’
The old woman pulled up in the kiss-and-drop area.
Clementine unclasped her seatbelt and leaned forward between the seats. ‘I think you’ll be a lovely model for an old lady,’ she said as she pecked her great-aunt’s powdery cheek.
Aunt Violet frowned before her face softened into a smile. ‘Thank you, Clementine, I think.’ She gently pressed her forefinger on the tip of the girl’s nose. ‘Don’t you worry another minute about Lavender. She’ll be fine.’
Clementine reached out and hugged Aunt Violet awkwardly around the neck.
‘No need to strangle me, Clemmie,’ the old woman said, prising herself from the child’s grasp.
‘I’m proud of you for getting a job, Aunt Violet,’ Clementine said, before bounding off to class.
Aunt Violet felt a strange pricking behind her eyes. ‘I’m proud of you too, Clementine,’ she whispered.
Clementine looked at the clock above the door and wondered if school was ever going to end. She’d been thinking about Lavender all day. She also had a niggly pain in her side, made all the more worse by Mrs Bottomley’s surprise visit to their classroom. Her old teacher took out a book and read to them while Mr Smee led her Kindergarteners to the field to sort out the running races for Friday.
While the Year Ones sat on the floor, listening to a story, Clementine kept staring at the clock. She wondered if Lavender had eaten any lunch.
‘Clementine, would you like to tell us what Muggle-Wump does when he realises that Mr Twit is on his way home?’ Mrs Bottomley asked, glaring at her over the top of the book.
Clementine gulped and the pain in her side throbbed. She didn’t have a clue what the teacher was talking about. She shook her head slowly.
Astrid leaned over and whispered the answer in her ear.
‘Astrid, don’t help her. Clementine should have been listening,’ Mrs Bottomley thundered.
‘Her pig’s sick,’ Angus said, coming to Clemmie’s defence.
‘And I’ve got a throbbing bunion, but that hasn’t stopped me from getting on with my work,’ Mrs Bottomley retorted.
Angus pulled a face. ‘Nan, that’s gross. You really shouldn’t tell everyone about your ugly feet,’ he said, and the rest of the class giggled. He was trying to be helpful but, from the look on his grandmother’s face, she could have spiflicated him right there and then. Fortunately for him, the bell rang.
‘Right, good afternoon, Kinder …’ The woman stopped and looked at the group, who stared back at her.
‘We’re not Kindergarten,’ Joshua huffed.
Mrs Bottomley glared at the boy. ‘I mean Year One,’ she corrected herself.
‘Goo-ood a-f-ter-no-on, Mrs Bot-tom-ley,’ the children chorused.
Clementine sprang up from the carpet and raced to the locker room. She had a bunch of baby carrots in her bag that Mr Pickles had pulled up from the school vegetable patch especially for Lavender. Mr Pickles had always had a soft spot for the teacup pig and thought some carrots might cheer her up. Clementine hauled her backpack over her shoulder and ran for the gate, where Miss Critchley, the head teacher, was already on duty.
‘Hello Clemmie, did you have a good day?’ she asked.
Clementine nodded absently as she peered around the woman and up the street, hoping to see Uncle Digby’s Morris Minor.
‘Are you all right?’ Miss Critchley asked, wondering why Clementine wasn’t her usual bubbly self.
‘I don’t know who’s coming to get me,’ Clementine replied. ‘Aunt Violet has a job now and Mummy has lots of guests. I thought it would be Uncle Digby, but he’s not here yet and we still have to go and see Lavender.’
‘I’m sure he won’t be long,’ the head teacher said reassuringly.
Most of the children in Clementine’s class were heading off with their parents at the gate or hopping into waiting cars. Clementine watched them all leave, shifting from one foot to the other.
Basil Hobbs pulled up in front of the gate and jumped out of the driver’s seat. ‘Hello Clemmie. Uncle Digby’s car wouldn’t start, so you’re coming with me today,’ he said. ‘Have you seen my three monsters?’
Clementine frowned and her stomach twisted. The pain in her side felt worse. ‘But I’m supposed to go and see Lavender.’
Basil smiled. ‘Yes, we’re all going.’
Clementine beamed with relief. ‘Phew! I can’t wait to see her.’
Basil spotted his eldest daughter across the playground. ‘Mintie, can you go and find that brother and sister of yours?’ he called out.
She nodded and sped off in the other direction. A minute later the three siblings appeared.
‘Sorry, Dad, I had to find my jumper,’ Teddy said as he clambered into the back seat of the car. ‘Mum said that if I didn’t come home with it today I was going to have to use my pocket money to buy a new one.’
‘Hi Clemmie,’ Tilda said as she squeezed in beside the girl. ‘I didn’t know you were coming with us.’
‘Me either,’ Clemmie said happily.
‘Buckle up, everyone, we’re off to see Lavender.’ Basil turned the key in the ignition.
‘Cool!’ Teddy grinned at Clementine. ‘I hope she’s feeling better.’
Basil drove down the high street and wriggled along several back roads before coming to a stop outside a neat, white terrace house. Beside the freshly painted red door was a gold plaque with large black letters on it.
‘Vet-er-in-ar-y sur-ger-y,’ Tilda said, sounding the words aloud.
‘Well done, Tilda,’ her father said.
The children piled out of the car and Clementine led the way through the front door with a tinkly bell. Inside the surgery, an older woman wearing pointy glasses sat behind the reception desk. She had a long, thin nose and a whiskery moustache on her top lip. Clementine thought she looked a bit like a mouse.
‘May I help you?’ the woman asked sharply.
‘I’m Clementine Rose Appleby,’ the girl said, stepping forward. ‘Could I see Lavender, please?’
The woman ran her finger down a list on the desk. ‘Is Lavender a dog or a cat?’ she asked in a posh voice.
Clementine shook her head. ‘She’s a teacup.’
The receptionist’s eyebrows knotted.
‘I mean a teacup pig,’ Clementine said quickly.
‘Oh, the pig.’ The woman nodded.
‘She’s got poomonia,’ Clementine added.
The lady snorted loudly and Mintie giggled.
‘I think Lavender has pneumonia,’ Basil said lightly.
Clementine’s cheeks flushed pink. ‘Oops.’
‘Well, Dr Wanner isn’t here, and I can’t let anyone back there without his approval,’ the woman said. ‘His nurse has just gone home for the day too.’
‘But he told Mummy that I could come after school,’ Clementine said in a wobbly voice. Tilda reached over and held her hand.
‘Could you telephone Dr Wanner and ask if it’s all right for Clemmie to go in?’ Basil asked. ‘We can wait here if there’s a limit on visitors.’
The woman huffed loudly. ‘I won’t be able to get hold of him. He’s over at the farm at Highton Hall – one of the cows is calving and she’s having a terrible time.’
‘Perhaps you could take Clementine through?’ Basil suggested. ‘I can man the phone for you.’
The mouse woman shook her head, and Clementine could almost imagine she was twitching her whiskers at the same time. ‘I don’t deal with the animals.’
Clementine turned to Basil with pleading eyes. She didn’t want to go home without seeing Lavender.
Basil wondered if the woman was always so unhelpful. ‘Look, Mrs …?’
‘Nettles,’ the woman replied. ‘Beverley Nettles.’
‘More like stinging nettles,’ Teddy whispered into his twin sister’s ear. Tilda giggled.
‘Mrs Nettles, I’m afraid that Clementine won’t sleep a wink tonight unless she knows that Lavender is on the mend, and it’s terribly important that she gets some rest before the school sports carnival tomorrow,’ Basil said.
‘But that’s not until –’ Clementine began to object when Tilda nudged her and widened her eyes meaningfully. Clementine suddenly realised what Basil was doing and grinned. ‘Never mind,’ she said.
Mrs Nettles rolled her eyes, then picked up the telephone. ‘I’ll try, but I’m positive he won’t answer.’ She pressed a button and waited.
Somewhere on the other side of the door that separated the reception area from the animals, a phone rang.
‘Hello,’ a voice answered.
Clementine and the Hobbs children looked at each other, bewildered. The voice sounded exactly like Dr Wanner.
‘Doctor, I have a little girl here who says she’d like to see her pig,’ Mrs Nettles said, thinking she had a particularly clear line. ‘I’ve told her that I can’t leave my post. She’ll simply have to come back tomorrow.’
‘Of course Clementine can see Lavender,’ Dr Wanner said, walking into the reception area. He winked at the child, who ran towards him.
‘Good heavens, you’re back rather early,’ Mrs Nettles said, hanging up the phone.
‘Can everyone come?’ Clementine asked the vet.
‘I don’t see why not.’ Dr Wanner smiled and held open the door for the group to walk through. ‘Mrs Nettles,’ he said, turning back to the receptionist, ‘Mrs Wang is feeling much better and will be back at work tomorrow. I won’t be needing you again anytime soon.’ The man flashed her a smile before closing the door behind him.
Beverley Nettles was left sitting there, loo
king as if she’d just swallowed a toad.
Clementine and the others followed Dr Wanner down a hallway that led past an operating theatre. The door was open and the children caught a glimpse inside. Teddy spied a stainless-steel operating table as well as various instruments lined up on a trolley.
‘Look at that,’ he gasped.
‘It’s like a hospital,’ Tilda said.
‘Do you do lots of operations, Dr Wanner?’ Teddy asked loudly.
The veterinarian turned back and looked at the boy. ‘Yes, quite a few.’
‘Is it hard being a vet?’ the boy asked.
‘Well, I suppose the most difficult thing is that, unlike human patients, animals can’t tell you which bit hurts, so it can be tricky to get the diagnosis right,’ Dr Wanner replied. ‘There are many different animals too. That’s why we have to study for such a long time.’
The man pushed open a door into a long room. Large enclosures lined the left-hand side while there were smaller cages built into the wall opposite. A fluffy white cat let out a yowl and arched its back.
‘Good evening, Tiberius,’ Dr Wanner said, pressing his fingers against the cage. The cat rubbed his cheeks through the wire and began to purr loudly.
A huge rottweiler hauled himself to his feet. He barked so loudly that Tilda shot into the air with fright.
Dr Wanner shook a finger at the beast. ‘There’s no need for that, Bruce,’ he chided. ‘We have guests. I’ll get your dinner shortly.’
Clementine scanned the cages for Lavender but couldn’t find her. The pain in her tummy had come back again.
‘There she is, Clemmie.’ Dr Wanner pointed to the other end of the row, and Clementine rushed past him.
Lavender was lying on her side with her eyes closed. She had a long, thin tube attached to one of her front legs with a plaster bandage wrapped around it.
‘Lavender?’ Clementine whispered. Upon hearing her name, the little pig opened her eyes and rolled onto her tummy. Her curly tail began to wiggle and she struggled to her feet.
Clementine Rose and the Birthday Emergency Page 3