Clementine Rose and the Birthday Emergency Read online

  About the Book

  Clementine Rose is counting down the days until her birthday party. But first there’s the school sports carnival to attend and a very special race to run. There’s also the all-important party theme to decide on!

  Amid all the excitement, Lavender doesn’t seem her usual self. A trip to the vet is in store, and now Clementine has butterflies in her tummy for all the wrong reasons. Will Lavender be able to attend the party? And why is Aunt Violet acting so mysteriously?

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Plans

  Invitations

  A Place in the Race

  Missing

  Found

  News

  Stinging Nettles

  Animal Tales

  Preparations

  Carnival

  Photo Finish

  Emergency

  Dreams

  Visitors

  Birthday

  Cast of Characters

  About the Author

  Books by Jacqueline Harvey

  Jacqueline Harvey Supports

  Copyright Notice

  Loved the book?

  For Holly and Catriona,

  who love Clementine too,

  and for Ian, as always.

  Clementine Rose tapped the pencil on the page in front of her. So far all she’d written was a heading. She frowned with concentration, then let out a small gasp. ‘Mummy, what about superheroes?’ she said.

  ‘Mmm, that sounds interesting,’ Lady Clarissa replied, sprinkling some cloves into a saucepan of simmering apples.

  Clementine carefully wrote down the first item on her list, sounding out the letters as she did. She thought for a moment, then let out another gasp. ‘And pirates!’

  ‘I thought you’d already decided on the theme last week?’ her mother said, turning around to face her.

  ‘I didn’t think Uncle Digby would want to be a fairy,’ Clementine explained, swinging her legs back and forth beneath the table. ‘I’m writing down other ideas so you and Aunt Violet and Uncle Digby can vote for the one you like best.’

  ‘That’s very sweet of you, Clemmie, but I’m not sure how Aunt Violet will feel about dress-ups, either. I can’t imagine her in a cape and tights.’ Lady Clarissa grimaced at the thought.

  Clementine giggled.

  Seconds later, the hallway door swung open and Aunt Violet strode into the room, huffing and blowing as if she were lugging a sack of potatoes instead of one small carry bag. She dumped her cargo onto the kitchen table. A tin of baked beans rolled out and Clementine caught it just before it fell onto the floor.

  ‘Godfathers, that man is ridiculous,’ the woman complained.

  ‘What’s Uncle Digby done now?’ Clementine asked, setting the tin upright. ‘He’s always in trouble with you, Aunt Violet.’

  ‘He insisted we go to the shops in that clapped-out bomb of his and then the stupid thing wouldn’t start. We waited an hour for the road-service man,’ Aunt Violet said. ‘Now I’m cold and wet and could do with a –’

  ‘Cup of tea?’ Clarissa placed a steaming cup in front of the old woman, as if by magic.

  ‘You’re a mind-reader, Clarissa,’ Aunt Violet sighed, and pulled out the chair beside Clementine.

  ‘Did the man fix the car?’ the child asked.

  Aunt Violet let out a snort. ‘The fellow used a coathanger to hold something together. A coathanger! Would you believe such a thing? Honestly, Pertwhistle needs to take that jalopy to the wrecking yard, although he’ll probably have to pay them to take it off his hands.’

  Lady Clarissa looked at the door. ‘Speaking of which, where is Uncle Digby?’

  ‘Who knows?’ the old woman said. ‘He’s probably sticky-taping the transmission together.’

  ‘I was doing no such thing,’ Digby Pertwhistle scoffed while struggling through the door, laden with several grocery bags.

  Lady Clarissa rushed over to help him. ‘Uncle Digby! You mustn’t carry all that on your own!’ she scolded. The old man had given them all a dreadful scare a little while ago when a heart problem had landed him in hospital.

  ‘I’m all right, dear,’ he said. ‘My helper disappeared.’ Digby Pertwhistle threw Violet Appleby a look.

  The old woman took a sip of her tea. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t disappear in a taxi an hour ago. Honestly, you must get rid of that rattletrap.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with her,’ Uncle Digby said, placing the bags on the floor.

  ‘What about the time we went to the seaside?’ Clementine reminded him. ‘Your car broke down and the tow-truck man had to pick us up.’

  ‘My point exactly,’ Aunt Violet tutted.

  Uncle Digby held up his hands in surrender. ‘All right, I’ll think about it.’

  Satisfied, the old woman turned her attention to Clementine. ‘What are you doing there?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m writing down ideas for my birthday party theme,’ the child replied.

  Aunt Violet leaned over and pointed at the first word on the list. ‘What is that supposed to say?’

  The girl looked at the word and frowned. She thought it was quite clear what it said. ‘Superheroes,’ she answered.

  Aunt Violet shook her head. ‘I think you need to practise your spelling, Clementine. There is no “a” in “super”.’

  ‘Will you teach me?’ Clementine asked. She was glad Aunt Violet had spotted the mistake, because she wanted her birthday invitations to be absolutely perfect.

  ‘I don’t have time,’ Aunt Violet replied quickly. ‘What else have you got on that list?’

  ‘Pirates,’ Clementine said.

  ‘It’s not a very long list, is it?’

  The girl bit her lip. ‘That’s because I’m still thinking.’

  ‘What about princesses?’ her great-aunt suggested.

  ‘I’m inviting boys too, silly,’ Clementine said with a chuckle. ‘They won’t want to dress up as princesses.’

  ‘I think I’d look rather fetching in a tiara,’ Uncle Digby said with a wink before disappearing into the pantry.

  Violet Appleby rolled her eyes. ‘You could have pirates and princesses,’ she said. ‘Then the boys and girls could choose.’

  ‘That’s a great idea!’ Clementine grinned. ‘Will you come as a princess, Aunt Violet?’

  ‘Certainly not.’

  ‘What about a pirate?’ Clementine asked.

  ‘Even worse,’ Aunt Violet retorted.

  ‘But it won’t be as good if you don’t.’ Clementine looked at the woman, her blue eyes pleading. ‘It will be fun. You can remember what it’s like to be a little girl again.’

  Aunt Violet shuddered. ‘Ugh, what a horrible thought.’

  ‘I’ll dress up, Clemmie,’ Uncle Digby said. He picked up a wooden spoon from the bench and brandished it like a sword. ‘Ahoy there, me hearties. The name’s Dastardly Digby and I’ve come to make ye walk the plank!’ He thrust the wooden spoon at Lady Clarissa, who giggled and in turn took up a spatula.

  Clementine laughed loudly, and even Aunt Violet couldn’t help but smile. ‘More like Dunderhead Digby,’ the woman said. ‘You look utterly ridiculous.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Uncle Digby replied, ‘and I look forward to channelling my inner Blackbeard at your party, Clementine. Anyway, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud, Miss Appleby.’

  Clementine gave a firm nod in agreement, while Aunt Violet just pursed her lips.

  ‘We’d better get the invitations done by tomorrow so you can give them out at school on Monday,’ Lady Clarissa said. ‘Yo
ur birthday is only a week away.’

  Clementine took up her pencil. ‘I’ll draw a princess and a pirate. Can you help me with the words, Mummy?’

  ‘Of course, sweetheart,’ Lady Clarissa said. ‘Unless Aunt Violet would like to give you a hand?’

  ‘I’m busy,’ the old woman said as she opened a magazine.

  Over by the stove, the family pets, Lavender and Pharaoh, had just woken up. Clementine’s teacup pig hopped out of the basket and trotted over to her mistress.

  ‘Hello Lavender.’ The child dangled her hand so the little pig could nuzzle her fingers. ‘I think I’ve got a better idea for my poster. I’ll draw you as a princess, and Pharaoh can be a pirate.’

  Aunt Violet looked up with a start. ‘My boy is much too handsome to be a pirate. Aren’t you?’ she cooed at the sphynx cat, who was busy licking his paws and cleaning behind his big ears.

  Clementine pulled a face. Pharaoh was a lot of things but handsome wasn’t one of them.

  Lady Clarissa placed a plate of brownies on the kitchen table and Uncle Digby finished putting the groceries away. The two of them sat down opposite Clementine and Aunt Violet.

  Clementine looked up from where she had already drawn the outline of Pharaoh, complete with a scarf emblazoned with a skull and crossbones around his head and a giant gold hoop in his ear. She was just about to give him an eye patch when a thought occurred to her. ‘Mummy, can Will and Drew come too?’ she asked.

  They had been on two picnics with Drew and his son since the pair had stayed at Penberthy House to assist in the filming of Basil’s documentary. Will was a little older than Clementine, but the two of them had quickly become firm friends.

  ‘I don’t know, darling. It’s a long way up here,’ Lady Clarissa said before taking a sip of her tea.

  Clementine frowned. ‘But I love them.’

  ‘You love them?’ her mother repeated.

  Clementine nodded. ‘I think Drew loves you too, Mummy. At the picnic he said that you looked beautiful.’

  Aunt Violet and Uncle Digby raised their eyebrows and grinned at one another as Lady Clarissa’s cheeks flushed a fiery red.

  ‘Why don’t we give them a call this evening so you can ask Will?’ Clarissa suggested. She hopped up from her chair and began to tidy the spotless countertop.

  Clementine clapped her hands and shivered with excitement. ‘This is going to be the best party ever!’ she declared.

  Clementine raced into school on Monday morning with her backpack a little fuller than usual. She headed straight for the locker room, where her friends Poppy and Sophie had just arrived too.

  ‘I’ve got something for both of you,’ Clementine announced, unzipping her bag and pulling out a pile of envelopes that were bound together with an elastic band.

  Sophie grinned excitedly. ‘Is it for your birthday party?’

  ‘Is it a dress-up party?’ Poppy asked, her eyes wide.

  ‘You’ll see,’ Clementine said cheerfully.

  As more children began to arrive, Clementine looked through the little stack of envelopes and handed them their invitations.

  ‘What is it?’ Angus Archibald asked.

  ‘It’s for my party,’ she said.

  ‘Cool.’ Angus put it in his pocket. ‘Lucky mine didn’t get lost like your one did last year.’

  Clementine nodded. It was for exactly this reason that she had insisted on taking her invitations to school and handing them out personally. Clementine didn’t want anyone to feel the way she had felt when her invitation to Angus’s party had gone missing.

  It wasn’t long before Clementine’s pile was down to just one.

  ‘That’s a great theme, Clementine,’ Astrid said, after she’d opened the envelope and read its contents aloud. ‘I’ve got the perfect outfit for it.’

  ‘What colour is your dress?’ Sophie asked.

  Astrid shook her head. ‘It’s not a dress,’ she said. ‘I’m going as a pirate.’

  ‘Girls can’t be pirates,’ Joshua Tribble scoffed, stuffing the envelope inside his bag.

  ‘Yes, they can,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Well, boys can’t be princesses,’ Joshua sniffed.

  Clementine shrugged. ‘They can if they want to. I don’t mind.’

  ‘That’s stupid,’ Joshua said. ‘I’m not wearing a dress!’

  ‘You could be a prince instead,’ Sophie suggested, looking to Clementine for confirmation. ‘Couldn’t he?’

  Clementine nodded.

  The bell rang loudly, and the children rushed to the classroom door. The whole of Year One was fizzing about Clementine’s party, swapping ideas about what they were going to wear and asking Clemmie about the games she planned to play.

  ‘Good morning, Year One,’ Mr Smee said as the children spilled into the room. ‘What’s all the excitement about?’

  ‘Clementine’s having a party and everyone’s invited,’ Teddy informed the teacher.

  ‘That sounds like fun.’ The man smiled at Clementine, who was marching towards him.

  ‘This is your invitation,’ she said, holding out the last envelope. ‘Mummy said that I could ask you. She also said that you’ve probably had enough of us by the weekends, so you don’t have to come if you don’t want to.’

  Roderick Smee grinned and turned the envelope over in his hand. He slipped his finger under the flap and pulled out the page. ‘This looks amazing, Clemmie,’ the man said, his eyes taking in the hand-drawn picture of a princess pig and a pirate cat. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Mr Smee popped the paper back into the envelope and sat it on his desk. ‘Okay, everyone. I have some news too.’

  The voices faded to a low murmur and then complete silence as the children sat down at their desks and looked at their teacher.

  ‘Who can remember what’s happening on Friday?’ Mr Smee asked. Hands shot up like road spikes around the room. ‘Yes, Tilda?’ Mr Smee said, pointing at the girl.

  ‘It’s the school sports carnival,’ she replied, lowering her hand.

  Mr Smee nodded. ‘That’s right, and a brand-new event has been added to the program. We now have a parents-versus-teachers-versus-students relay race!’

  ‘Yesssss!’ the children hissed, pumping their fists.

  ‘So we have to choose the two best boy and girl runners in our class to represent Year One,’ Mr Smee finished.

  ‘Me! Me! Me!’ the children yelled, over the top of one another.

  ‘I thought we could hold races after lunch to help us decide,’ the teacher said.

  Chatter erupted again as the children speculated about who was the fastest.

  ‘It’s definitely me for the boys,’ Joshua Tribble announced.

  ‘What about Angus?’ Clementine said. ‘He’s really fast.’

  ‘I’m faster!’ Joshua shouted.

  ‘I bet Clementine could beat you,’ Poppy said.

  The boy glared at her. ‘No, she can’t. She’s a girl, and girls are like tortoises.’

  Clementine and Poppy shared a look. There was no point arguing with Joshua. He always had to have the last word.

  ‘Settle down, everyone,’ Mr Smee instructed. ‘Take out your writing books and let’s see if we can concentrate for a while.’

  ‘I think you’re going to win,’ Poppy whispered to Clementine.

  ‘Maybe,’ Clementine said with a twinkle in her eye. She had a feeling that today was going to be a lucky one.

  Mr Smee blew the shiny silver whistle around his neck. Most of the children stopped their jumping about and stood still. Joshua Tribble, meanwhile, continued to spring up and down on the spot as if he were on a pogo stick.

  ‘Joshua, I think that’s enough,’ Mr Smee said disapprovingly.

  ‘But it’s my warm-up,’ Joshua complained. ‘I don’t want to pull my muscles. They’re really big, you know.’

  The teacher glared at him, trying hard not to smile. ‘I think you’ll be fine.’

  Joshua reluctantly stopped, but not without a few m
ore grumbles.

  ‘I’m going to split the class into two groups of boys and two groups of girls,’ the teacher explained. ‘Those ranked in first and second place will then race against each other to determine which boy and girl will represent Year One on Friday.’

  After a few minutes, the Year Ones were formed into four groups of five and six. They stood by the track that the school caretaker, Mr Pickles, had marked out for Friday’s carnival. Today, the man could be seen furiously raking the long-jump pit on the other side of the field.

  ‘What’s Mr Pickles doing?’ Angus asked as he saw a shower of sand and some large brown lumps fly into the air.

  ‘I think he’s cleaning out the cat poo,’ Clementine said, wrinkling her nose.

  ‘That’s gross.’ Joshua poked his tongue out at her. ‘I’m not going in the long jump.’

  ‘I am,’ Clementine said, thinking that a bit of cat poo never hurt anyone.

  The first group of boys assembled at the start line while the rest of the class stood along the sidelines, ready to cheer.

  ‘On your marks, get set …’ Mr Smee blew his whistle, and the boys were off.

  ‘Go, Angus!’ Clementine yelled. Her hands clenched in anticipation as she watched him tear down the track.

  ‘Go, Teddy!’ Sophie and Tilda called out.

  Everyone was cheering, and soon Angus was miles ahead. He hit the finish line with Eddie Whipple coming in second place.

  Clementine’s race was on next. She was up against Tilda and Poppy, Ally and a new girl called Evie, who liked to skip everywhere. Angus jogged back to the group and gave Clementine a thumbs-up. Her tummy was full of butterflies. She really wanted to run in the race on Friday.

  When the whistle blew, the girls tore away.

  Tilda was in the lead early on until Clementine caught up to her and surged ahead. When they hit the finish line, it was Clementine in first place and Tilda in second, followed by Poppy, then Ally and last of all Evie, who had skipped the whole way.