‘Your pig is hardly the same as a farm pig, is she?’ Mrs Bottomley said.
‘Our pigs have been known to get the odd cake every now and then,’ Heinrich confirmed. He grinned and continued, ‘Mostly when Mrs Greening has been experimenting with her baking and things haven’t turned out so well.’
Clementine smiled at Mr Bauer, who winked at her. Mrs Bottomley didn’t know anything about pigs, Clemmie thought with satisfaction.
‘Why are they so dirty?’ one of the children called out.
‘Pigs like to bathe in the mud because they don’t sweat the way people do. It’s a way for them to cool down. And it looks like fun too, don’t you think?’ Heinrich explained.
Some of the children nodded.
‘Who’d like to hold one of the piglets?’ Heinrich asked.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr Bauer,’ Mrs Bottomley replied.
‘It’s all right, Mrs Bottomley. Good old Marta would probably appreciate a rest for a few minutes.’
‘No,’ Mrs Bottomley protested. ‘The children will get dirty.’
‘But I love mud,’ Joshua called.
A chorus of ‘Me too!’ went up.
Before she could say another word, Mr Bauer entered the pigpen and snatched up one of the wriggling piglets. It squeaked and oinked and the children laughed at all the noises it made.
The mother pig, Marta, raised her head, stared briefly at Mr Bauer, then laid it down again. The poor sow looked exhausted.
‘Come along, Mrs Bottomley, would you like to hold her first?’
‘No, no, get her away from me.’ Ethel Bottomley waved her hands and ran in a circle with Mr Bauer and the piglet chasing after her.
‘Come now, the teacher must set the good example for the students. She won’t hurt you.’
The children roared with laughter. Mrs Bottomley turned around and Heinrich thrust the piglet into her arms.
‘What do I do with her?’ The woman grimaced and held tight to the squealing beast.
‘Give her a cuddle, Mrs Bottomley,’ Heinrich laughed.
‘I’m not cuddling a pig,’ the woman squawked.
‘Oh, for goodness sake, give it to me.’ Aunt Violet strode forward and snatched the creature from the teacher’s hands.
Clementine’s mouth gaped open.
Aunt Violet then passed the piglet to Clementine, who cradled the small pink beast in her arms.
‘Settle down, little piggy,’ Clemmie cooed. She tickled the creature under the chin. Much to everyone’s surprise, it stopped wriggling and looked up at the girl.
‘You have the magic touch, Clementine,’ announced Heinrich. ‘She knows you like pigs.’
Mrs Bottomley shot Aunt Violet a dirty look.
The children took turns holding the piglets.
‘Thank you, Aunt Violet,’ Clementine whispered to the old woman. Aunt Violet was
standing at the back of the group and watching the children as they delighted in holding the wriggling creatures.
‘Think nothing of it, Clementine,’ Aunt Violet replied. ‘Your teacher was being ridiculous.’
Mrs Bottomley glared at Aunt Violet then glanced at her watch. ‘Mr Bauer, we need to be getting a move on, don’t you think?’
Heinrich nodded. ‘Okay, children, piggies back to their mother. We are going to meet Constance now.’
‘Who’s Constance?’ Joshua asked.
‘Constance the cow,’ Poppy replied.
Mrs Bottomley led the way into the yard. She blew on her whistle and the children hurried into formation.
‘Surely the children can walk from one shed to another without the military parade,’ Aunt Violet muttered. She didn’t realise that Mrs Bottomley, like most teachers, had powerful hearing.
‘I’d prefer we didn’t lose anyone, Miss Appleby,’ Mrs Bottomley replied. ‘If that’s all right with you.’
Aunt Violet sighed and rolled her eyes.
The group marched towards the cowshed, where they found Constance. She was a beautiful tan-coloured jersey cow, and Clementine thought she had the longest eyelashes she’d ever seen.
‘She’s so pretty,’ Sophie said.
Clementine nodded.
‘Yes, doesn’t know how lucky she is with those lashes,’ Aunt Violet added.
The children stood on the railings surrounding the pen while Heinrich organised himself with a tiny three-legged stool and a stainless steel bucket.
‘Who would like to help me milk Constance?’ he asked.
Hands shot into the air from every direction.
The man grinned at the children. ‘I don’t think we’ll ask Mrs Bottomley this time.’
‘Yes, well, I’ll thank you not to,’ the old woman said through pursed lips.
‘What about you, Miss Appleby? Would you like to go first and show the children how it’s done?’
Aunt Violet frowned. She was about to say ‘no’ when the word ‘yes’ escaped from her lips.
Clementine looked at her great-aunt in amazement. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Well, I don’t know, Clementine, but it doesn’t look too difficult.’
Aunt Violet walked through the gate into the pen. She stroked Connie’s forehead and looked into the old girl’s eyes.
‘Hello gorgeous,’ she whispered, then ran her hand along the cow’s bulging body.
‘I think, Miss Appleby, you have done this before?’ Heinrich said.
‘A long time ago, Mr Bauer.’ She crouched on the stool and positioned the shiny silver bucket under Connie’s udder. She placed her hand on one of the beast’s teats and pulled gently. A white stream pinged against the bottom of the bucket.
The children were mesmerised as they watched. The old woman was using both hands now and the bucket was filling fast.
‘Miss Appleby, you are an expert,’ Heinrich told Aunt Violet, who looked up with a sheepish grin.
‘Not an expert, Mr Bauer, but not bad for an old lady,’ she replied.
Clementine couldn’t believe it. Aunt Violet was full of surprises today.
‘Who’d like to go next?’ the farmer asked.
There was no shortage of volunteers. Mr Bauer picked Ella, who was happy to receive some instruction from Aunt Violet. The woman seemed very pleased to be able to help each child as they came to have their turn.
Last of all Joshua slid onto the stool.
Aunt Violet had retreated to the other end of the shed to wash her hands, so Mr Bauer tried to instruct Joshua on his milking technique. The boy pulled down hard on one of Connie’s teats with no luck. He pulled again.
Mrs Bottomley was hovering close by, as the boy had been making a particular nuisance of himself. He’d been poking and pinching the other children and his father had very little control over him. He was lucky to be getting a turn at all.
‘It’s not fair, she’s run out of milk,’ Joshua complained.
He pulled again and tilted the teat upwards. This time a long stream of milk shot out, straight at Mrs Bottomley. It hit her right in the face.
Joshua laughed loudly.
‘Joshua Tribble,’ the woman bellowed as she wiped the milk from her cheek. ‘Stop that at once.’
The boy was tempted to have another go. He looked around and saw his father glaring.
‘Don’t you even think about it, young man,’ Mr Tribble growled.
Connie had stood patiently chewing on her cud for almost twenty minutes. But Mr Bauer noticed that her tail had begun to twitch.
‘Mrs Bottomley, you should come away from there,’ the man said.
‘What is it now?’
The old woman turned just in time to see Connie lift her tail and deposit a stream of runny poo on the straw behind her.
‘Arrrrgh!’ Mrs Bottomley shrieked and ju
mped clear just as the mound began to build.
‘Pooh! She stinks,’ Joshua called out.
‘Joshua Tribble, I do not stink,’ Mrs Bottomley barked.
‘I meant the cow,’ he said. ‘But your boots stink too.’ The lad pointed at the teacher’s wellington boots, which were now splattered brown as well.
Mrs Bottomley shook her head and stalked to the other end of the barn to look for a tap.
Heinrich Bauer took over and finished the last few minutes of milking, then carried the pail to the gate.
‘What’s next?’ Clementine asked excitedly. She was having a wonderful day, despite the egg incident.
Lily Bauer came racing towards the group. ‘Heinrich! I can’t find Granny anywhere,’ she puffed. ‘I’ve been through Rose Cottage from top to bottom; I’ve scoured the sheds and called Daisy, and she said that Granny should be here.’
‘Did you telephone the Hall and see if she’s gone up there?’ her husband asked.
‘Yes, and I’ve spoken to Mrs Greening. No one has seen her at all,’ Lily replied.
‘I saw an old lady when we got here, near the bus,’ said Joshua.
‘What was she doing near the bus?’ Heinrich asked.
‘She was looking inside the door, when we were walking towards the house,’ the boy replied.
‘Oh dear, you don’t think she could have hopped on and gone to the village with Mr Stubbs, do you?’ Lily asked her husband.
‘Who knows?’ he said. ‘But I don’t have time to look for her now. I have to get the barbecue started for the sausage sizzle.’
‘I’ll call Mr Greening and see if he can head into town and look for her,’ said Lily. ‘Mrs Greening said that she and Mrs Shillingsworth would go out on foot to look.’
‘And we can help with the food,’ Mr Tribble spoke up. Sophie’s mother nodded too.
‘Well, what am I supposed to do with the children?’ Mrs Bottomley asked. She had returned to the group and was most unimpressed. Lost old ladies were not on her schedule.
‘You could still go and see the lambs in the field,’ Heinrich suggested.
Mrs Bottomley shook her head, aghast. ‘We’re not going on our own! It says here that someone called Mr Greening was going to take us to view the lambs.’
‘Well, I’m afraid that we need him to go and search for Granny Bert. She’s a frail old lady who hasn’t been herself lately and we don’t want anything to happen to her. I’m sure you can understand that,’ Heinrich explained.
Ethel Bottomley just wanted a cup of tea and a lie down.
Aunt Violet intervened. ‘We can find our way to the field and back, Mrs Bottomley. It would be such a pity for the children to miss out on seeing the lambs.’
‘No, we’re staying here,’ said Mrs Bottomley.
Aunt Violet looked at the children. ‘Who wants to see the new lambs?’ she asked.
‘Me!’ the children called in unison.
‘I think you’re outvoted, Mrs Bottomley.’ Aunt Violet smiled at the woman and arched her eyebrow. ‘Besides, Poppy lives on the farm. I’m sure we won’t get lost with her in the lead.’
Poppy nodded like a jack-in-the-box. ‘I know the farm backwards,’ she confirmed.
‘And me and Sophie have been here before,’ Clementine added.
‘Sophie and I, Clementine,’ Mrs Bottomley corrected.
‘That’s settled, then. Let’s go and find some lambs,’ Aunt Violet commanded, as the children cheered.
The group set off with Poppy and Aunt Violet in the lead and Mrs Bottomley bringing up the rear. Joshua’s father and Sophie’s mother stayed behind to help with lunch and the search for Granny Bert.
The children would be having barbecued sausages in bread rolls baked fresh at Sophie’s father’s patisserie, salad from the garden, hard-boiled eggs from the chickens and milkshakes courtesy of Constance the cow for their lunch. Mrs Greening, who lived with her husband in the Gatehouse on the estate, had made one of her delicious cakes too. Nearly all of the food was from the farm.
Poppy led the class through a gate in the stone wall at the front of their cottage, and into the long meadow dotted with oak trees.
‘Daddy said the lambs are over on the other side of the stream,’ Poppy explained to Aunt Violet as they trotted along.
‘Stream? Did I hear you say there was a stream, Poppy? We’re not going near any water, are we?’ Mrs Bottomley snapped.
Aunt Violet turned around. ‘There’s a bridge, you old fusspot,’ she fumed at the teacher. She looked down at Poppy and whispered, ‘There is a bridge, isn’t there?’
The child nodded. ‘Of course.’
Aunt Violet smiled, relieved.
Clementine and Sophie were walking a little further behind.
‘What happened to her?’ Sophie asked, pointing at Clemmie’s great-aunt.
Clementine shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I think Grandpa must have told her to be on her best behaviour today.’
‘Do you think she’ll turn back?’ Sophie whispered.
‘Into what?’ Clementine asked.
‘Herself,’ Sophie said.
‘I hope not. I like her much better this way,’ said Clementine.
The children reached the stream where a lovely little stone bridge spanned the banks.
‘The sheep are down there,’ said Poppy, pointing ahead. Some of the sheep were grazing and others were lying on the grass. In among the mature animals there were lots of lambs.
‘Well, have a look, children,’ Mrs Bottomley instructed, ‘there are the lambs.’
‘You can’t even see them,’ Joshua whined. ‘They’re too far away.’
‘Yes,’ Aunt Violet agreed. ‘Do you think we can get a little bit closer, Poppy?’
The child nodded. ‘Yes, but I don’t think we’ll be able to touch them.’
‘Right, come along then, children,’ Aunt Violet said and began to walk further into the paddock.
‘I think we should be getting back soon, Miss Appleby,’ Mrs Bottomley declared.
‘Nonsense, woman. We’ve been gone all of fifteen minutes. Unless the Bauers have a supercharged barbecue, those sausages will need a little longer yet.’ Aunt Violet shook her head and kept walking.
Clementine and Sophie looked at each other and giggled. It was funny to hear a grown-up talk back to Mrs Bottomley.
Up close, the children could see lots of lambs gambolling about. The little creatures would run quickly past their mothers, as if to show them how steady they were on their feet, then become overwhelmed with shyness and race back for protection.
Poppy warned the group that sometimes the mothers were very bossy and they shouldn’t get too close. For the first few minutes everyone had a lovely time watching. Unfortunately that didn’t last long.
Joshua had his eye on a tiny lamb. He was determined to catch it and show everyone how clever he was. The boy crept up on the little creature and made a lunge. It skipped out of his grasp and ran towards its mother. Joshua landed on the soft grass, a huge grin on his face.
‘Come back here,’ he growled, and jumped to his feet.
Mrs Bottomley turned and saw the lad chasing after the lamb. ‘Joshua Tribble, stop that at once,’ she shouted.
But Mrs Bottomley’s shouting only seemed to make the other children excited. Angus took off after another lamb, then Eddie Whipple got in on the act too.
Soon some of the girls joined in the game until sheep, lambs and children scattered over the field like a bag of marbles spilled onto a concrete floor.
Poppy shouted at them to stop. Mrs Bottomley charged through a brambly hedge after Joshua. Aunt Violet had grabbed Angus’s collar and was trying to keep a grip on him when Mrs Bottomley began to wail. Clementine and Sophie, who had been standing under one of the oak trees and wondering what was going to happen
next, watched wide-eyed as Mrs Bottomley flew out of the hedge with a giant white goose honking and hissing after her.
‘Eloise!’ Poppy called. ‘Leave Mrs Bottomley alone.’
But the goose was not about to stop. Mrs Bottomley wobbled on her feet as she tried to fend off the snapping beak.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, woman. It’s a goose, not a charging bull,’ chided Aunt Violet. She dropped Angus like a stone and hurried after Mrs Bottomley.
The children all stopped their running about and watched Aunt Violet chasing the goose that was chasing Mrs Bottomley. Joshua began to laugh. Angus did too and soon the whole class was in fits as the two old women and the goose disappeared through the hedge again.
‘Where are they?’ Angus asked after the trio had been gone a while.
‘I’ll go and look,’ Poppy called.
‘I’m coming too,’ Angus said.
Astrid’s brows knotted together fiercely. ‘No, we should all stay here.’
‘You’re not the boss of us,’ Joshua said.
Ella, a tiny girl with long blonde plaits, began to cry. ‘Where’s Mrs Bottomley?’ she sniffled.
Some of the other children were beginning to get upset too. They realised they were alone in the field and the two adults looking after them had vanished.
Poppy grabbed Clementine’s hand and together they ran to the edge of the field and scanned the paddock beyond the hedge.
‘Where did they go?’ Clementine asked as she looked into the empty stretch of green.
‘I don’t know.’ Poppy looked up and down. It seemed the women and the goose had disappeared into thin air.
‘What should we do?’ Clementine asked.
‘We should go and get Daddy,’ Poppy declared.
Clementine and Poppy raced back to the oak tree, where the rest of the class was standing.
‘Where are they?’ Angus asked.
Poppy shrugged.
‘I’m going to look,’ Joshua declared. ‘Because I’m a proper explorer. Girls aren’t. They’re dumb.’
‘We are not,’ Clementine said. ‘And we’re just as good at exploring as you are.’
‘Are not,’ Joshua spat back.
Clementine Rose and the Farm Fiasco 4 Page 5