Clementine Rose and the Farm Fiasco 4 Read online

  ‘Clementine!’ Aunt Violet admonished. ‘I’d like that door to remain attached to the car, thank you very much.’

  ‘Sorry, Aunt Violet!’ Clementine called back. ‘Thank you for coming to get me.’ She skittered up the front steps and into the house.

  Violet Appleby watched as Clementine disappeared. She wondered if the child had ever been more excited about anything in her life.

  Clementine was counting down the days to Friday. Her mother and Uncle Digby thought the excursion was a wonderful idea, and Lady Clarissa immediately signed up to help. Two other parents had volunteered to come along and assist, and of course Mr and Mrs Bauer would be at the farm too.

  On Thursday afternoon, Clementine was playing in the garden at home with Lavender. ‘All of the eggs have hatched now and the chicks are so sweet. They’ve all got names too. You already know about Velvet, Lemonade, Henny Penny and Joshua, and now there’s Blackie, Chicka, Hattie and Noodle,’ she babbled to the little pig. ‘Mrs Bottomley doesn’t seem to like the names much, and she’s giving us so many strange lessons about our visit to Poppy’s farm. We’re not to get too close to the animals; we have to wash our hands after touching any animals, which is silly because I touch you all the time.’ Lavender snuffled indignantly and Clementine shook her head. ‘And we mustn’t pick anything to eat from the garden. But isn’t that what a farm is for?’

  Clementine tucked a daisy behind her ear and put one behind Lavender’s ear as well. ‘We’re going to see cows and sheep and horses and I think there could even be some pigs too. But they won’t be little teacup piggies like you. Mr Bauer has great big pigs. They have chickens and ducks as well. I can’t wait. Mummy’s coming and I wish we could take you, but you might get lost and that would be terrible. So you have to stay here with Uncle Digby and Aunt Violet and Pharaoh.’

  Clementine was admiring the new buds on her mother’s favourite rosebush when she heard a loud snipping sound behind her.

  ‘Who are you talking to, Clementine?’ Aunt Violet demanded. She’d just cut a long red rose and was in the process of removing the thorns.

  ‘Oh, hello Aunt Violet, I was just telling Lavender all about the excursion tomorrow and explaining why she can’t come.’

  ‘And do you really think the pig understands you?’ her great-aunt asked as she hacked another stem.

  Clementine nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘What a lot of drivel,’ Aunt Violet snorted. ‘She’s a pig, for heaven’s sake.’

  ‘And pigs are really smart,’ Clementine replied, wrinkling her nose.

  ‘Here, hold these.’ Aunt Violet passed Clementine the roses. The child hesitated. ‘It’s all right. I’ve taken the thorns off.’

  ‘What are they for?’ Clementine buried her nose in the centre of one of the flowers. ‘They smell lovely.’

  ‘They’re for my room,’ Violet replied. ‘It could do with some cheering up.’

  ‘Is it sad?’ Clementine asked.

  The old woman looked at Clementine. ‘What are you talking about this time?’

  ‘You said that your room could do with some cheering up so I thought it must be sad,’ Clementine explained.

  ‘I just want some roses to brighten the place up. Is that all right with you?’ Aunt Violet cut three more blooms.

  Clementine wondered why Aunt Violet was in a bad mood this time. ‘Are you sad, Aunt Violet?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Are you sad?’ Clementine asked again. ‘Are the flowers really to cheer you up?’

  ‘You can think whatever you like, Clemen­tine.’ Aunt Violet snatched the roses and stalked off.

  Clementine watched as Aunt Violet stomped through the garden, up the back steps and into the kitchen. She waited a little while then followed. Lavender snuffled along in the grass close behind her.

  In the kitchen, Uncle Digby was cutting up some apples for a pie and Clemmie’s mother was stirring something on the stovetop. She looked up as Clementine entered. ‘Hello Clemmie, would you like a glass of milk and some afternoon tea?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘I left you something to eat,’ Uncle Digby said. There was half a chocolate eclair sitting underneath the cake dome.

  ‘Yum,’ the child squealed.

  ‘The doctor said that I have to go easy on the sweet treats,’ said Uncle Digby. He patted his chest above his heart. ‘So I’m sharing with you.’

  Clementine nodded. She didn’t want Uncle Digby to have any more scares like the one he’d had a little while ago, when they’d been hosting a wedding at the house.

  ‘Where’s Aunt Violet?’ she enquired.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. I heard her come in and she hurried away upstairs. I hope she’s not coming down with another one of her headaches,’ said Lady Clarissa, sighing.

  Digby raised his eyebrows. ‘Yes, we all know what that means.’

  ‘She can’t help it if she gets nasty headaches,’ Lady Clarissa told the old man.

  ‘Did you say she can’t help it if she has a nasty head?’ Digby chuckled. Clementine giggled too.

  ‘Digby Pertwhistle, you cheeky thing,’ Clarissa admonished. ‘I think there has been some steady improvement in Aunt Violet’s behaviour recently.’

  ‘Yes, let’s just hope it continues,’ he replied.

  Clementine wondered whether she should run upstairs and see if her great-aunt was all right.

  Lady Clarissa placed a glass of milk and the half chocolate eclair on the table in front of her daughter. ‘Oh, look! Lavender, you’re such a funny little thing,’ she said, turning her head towards the fireplace.

  Clemmie glanced around. She couldn’t see anything unusual. Lavender was just sitting in her basket with Pharaoh beside her. As she turned back to her plate, she noticed a large bite missing from her eclair. Her mother was licking her fingers and hurrying back to the stove.

  ‘Mummy!’ the girl shouted. ‘You ate my eclair.’

  Her mother chortled. ‘Sorry, Clemmie, I couldn’t help myself. It just looked too good. Besides, you don’t want to spoil your dinner, do you?’

  Clementine giggled. Uncle Digby was laughing too. Now, Clementine thought, if only she could get Aunt Violet to laugh more, things would be just about perfect.

  ‘I can’t wait for tomorrow,’ Clementine said as she gobbled the last bite of her afternoon tea.

  ‘I was talking with Poppy’s mother this afternoon and she’s very excited too. She’s planning a sausage sizzle for your lunch,’ said Lady Clarissa.

  The telephone rang and Clementine slid off her chair and ran to pick it up.

  ‘Good afternoon, Penberthy House, this is Clementine. How may I help you?’ she said confidently. Her mother and Uncle Digby turned around and smiled at Clemmie. She was becoming very good at answering the phone and Uncle Digby said that they might have to start paying her pocket money for being the hotel receptionist.

  ‘I’ll just get Mummy,’ she said, and put her hand over the mouthpiece.

  ‘Who is it, darling?’ Lady Clarissa brushed her hands against her apron and walked towards Clementine.

  Clemmie shrugged. ‘They didn’t say.’

  Lady Clarissa frowned as she took the phone. ‘Good afternoon, this is Clarissa Appleby.’

  Clementine and Uncle Digby couldn’t help hearing Lady Clarissa’s responses.

  ‘Oh, a recommendation from Mrs Fox? That’s wonderful. Yes, it was a beautiful wedding . . . Tomorrow? I’m afraid I can’t tomorrow . . . I see. I’ll have to think what I can do . . . I’ll just write that number down and I’ll get back to you in a little while.’ And with that Clarissa hung up the phone.

  ‘That sounded interesting.’ Digby was now stirring apples on the stovetop. The sugar and cloves mixed in with the simmering fruit filled the kitchen with sweet smells.

  ‘Yes, it seems M
rs Fox has been telling people about how wonderful Harriet’s wedding was. That was a lady called Mrs Wilde. She wants to come and have a look at the house for her own daughter’s wedding later in the year.’

  ‘Another wedding?’ Clementine gasped. She had so enjoyed the first one and couldn’t wait for there to be another.

  ‘Yes, but I’m afraid we might not be able to do it. Her daughter has just flown in from overseas and will be here for a couple of days. They can only come tomorrow and they can’t be sure what time they’ll get here.’

  Clementine’s face fell. ‘But my excursion’s tomorrow.’

  ‘I can meet with them,’ Uncle Digby said.

  Lady Clarissa shook her head. ‘You have your appointment with the doctor and you’re not missing it.’

  Digby frowned. ‘Oh no, I’m afraid not.’

  ‘What about Aunt Violet?’ Clementine asked hopefully. ‘Couldn’t she show the people around?’

  Lady Clarissa and Uncle Digby looked at one another. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Aunt Violet isn’t exactly our best advertisement,’ her mother said.

  Clementine sighed. It was true. The last time Aunt Violet had been left in charge of the guests was on the weekend of the wedding. She’d rearranged the bedroom allocations and had an awful argument with Mrs Fox.

  Digby frowned. ‘Surely there’s some way we can manage it. That repair quote for the roof was much more than we’d expected, Clarissa. Another wedding would just about cover it.’

  Clarissa nodded. For years she’d put off the huge job of re-doing the roof, and dotted buckets around the house to catch the drips each time it rained. The builder had recently discovered a rather more sinister patch of damp in one of the upstairs bedrooms and said that if she didn’t have the roof repaired soon, it could collapse completely.

  Clementine was thinking. She knew that getting the roof fixed was important and Uncle Digby couldn’t miss his doctor’s appointment.

  ‘Do you think Aunt Violet would like to come on the excursion?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, I don’t know. Would you really be happy to take Aunt Violet with you?’ her mother asked.

  Clementine nodded. ‘It might make her feel better.’

  ‘What do you mean, sweetheart?’

  ‘It might cheer her up,’ Clementine replied.

  Clarissa still wasn’t following. She didn’t know if something specific had upset Aunt Violet or she was in one of her usual grumps.

  ‘I think it’s more a question of would Aunt Violet want to go?’ Uncle Digby added.

  ‘I’ll ask her.’ Clementine jumped off her chair and walked over to the basket near the fireplace. She reached in to pick Pharaoh up.

  ‘What are you doing with puss?’ her mother asked.

  ‘Aunt Violet always says that Pharaoh doesn’t spend much time with her any more, so I thought I’d take him upstairs so he can have a visit.’

  Digby winked at Clemmie. ‘Good idea.’

  Clementine cradled the bald cat in her arms and walked up the back stairs towards Aunt Violet’s bedroom.

  ‘Well, that’s a turn up for the books,’ said Digby.

  ‘I just hope Aunt Violet says yes,’ Lady Clarissa replied.

  Clementine shifted Pharaoh onto one arm and knocked gently on the door of the Blue Room.

  There was no answer.

  ‘Aunt Violet,’ she called. ‘May I come in?’

  Violet Appleby was sitting at her dressing table, arranging the roses she’d cut earlier in a pretty crystal vase.

  Clementine knocked again, a little louder. She was having trouble balancing Pharaoh and knocking at the same time, and hoped Aunt Violet would hurry up and answer.

  Aunt Violet caught her finger on a rogue thorn and cursed as a tiny spot of blood oozed from her skin.

  ‘What is it now?’ the old woman called.

  Clementine turned the handle and entered the room.

  ‘Phew, I thought I was going to drop him. Pharaoh wanted to say hello.’ She walked across the room and deposited the cat onto her great-aunt’s lap.

  ‘Well, it’s about time you paid me a visit, my boy.’ Aunt Violet nuzzled her face against Pharaoh’s and he began to purr.

  Clementine loved his motor. It was loud, like a sports car engine. She sometimes wished Lavender could purr, but she could grunt and squeak and that was cute too.

  Clementine studied the crystal bowl of roses. ‘Is that Granny’s vase?’

  ‘What if it is?’ Aunt Violet asked.

  ‘It’s not allowed out of the sitting room cabinet,’ Clementine explained. ‘Mummy says it’s too valuable.’

  ‘Well, it looks lovely right where it is and I’ll thank you not to blab to your mother or Pertwhistle. I’ll put it back when I’m finished with it,’ said Aunt Violet tartly.

  Clementine frowned. She usually told her mother and Uncle Digby everything. She didn’t like the idea of keeping a secret from them.

  Aunt Violet looked at Clementine. ‘Is that all?’

  Clemmie shook her head. ‘I was wonder­ing . . .’

  There was a short silence.

  ‘Yes, yes, what is it?’ Her great-aunt sighed impatiently. ‘I haven’t got all day, you know. Some of us have things to do.’

  Clementine wondered exactly what it was that Aunt Violet had to do. She never seemed especially busy. Not like her mother and Uncle Digby.

  ‘Well, you know how my class is going to Poppy’s farm tomorrow and Mummy is supposed to come?’ Clementine said.

  Aunt Violet nodded. ‘Yes. So?’

  ‘Mummy can’t come any more. Some­one wants to look at the house for a wedding and she says that it’s best if she’s here, and Uncle Digby said you can’t be trusted to talk to people after last time.’

  ‘What? That’s outrageous!’ Aunt Violet snapped. ‘I’ll thank Pertwhistle to keep his opinions to himself.’

  ‘But you had a fight with Mrs Fox, remem­ber?’ Clementine reminded the old woman.

  Violet Appleby rolled her eyes. ‘The woman was a tyrant. Why don’t you take Pertwhistle? It would be good to have him out of the house. Old codger’s always sneaking up on me. He gives me the willies.’

  ‘Uncle Digby can’t come because he has to go to the doctor,’ Clementine said. ‘So I was wondering if you would come instead.’

  ‘Me? Go to a farm? With all those smelly children?’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘No. It’s out of the question. I have too many things to do. Do you think I sit around the house twiddling my thumbs all day?’

  Clementine didn’t realise that her aunt wasn’t expecting an answer. She nodded. ‘You do sit around the house. I don’t know about twiddling your thumbs.’

  The old woman pursed her lips. ‘I do not! I’ll have you know that I’m a very busy person.’

  ‘Mummy says that if you give a busy person something extra to do, they’ll always fit it in,’ Clementine said.

  ‘She would say that.’ Violet Appleby paused for a moment. ‘Why would you want me to come anyway?’

  ‘Because I thought it might cheer you up and it will be fun,’ Clementine replied.

  ‘Fun?’ her great-aunt repeated absently. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had fun. ‘No, Clementine, I can’t.’

  Clementine’s face fell. Aunt Violet was just about the most confusing person she’d ever met. They’d had some lovely times reading books together lately and Aunt Violet had even put Clementine to bed the other week, but now she was being so mean.

  ‘Well, I don’t want you to come anyway,’ Clementine whispered.

  ‘What did you say, Clementine?’

  ‘I don’t want you to come,’ the child said, a little louder.

  ‘So you ask me and then you don’t really want me at all,’ her great-aunt accused. ‘Well, that’s lovely, tha
t is.’

  ‘But you said that you didn’t want to and you’re too busy,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Well, now I think I might.’ Aunt Violet stood up and deposited Pharaoh onto the four-poster bed.

  ‘You might what?’ Clementine asked cautiously.

  ‘I might come along, if that’s all right with you, Miss Change-Your-Mind,’ said Aunt Violet.

  ‘Really? You’re not just saying that?’ Clementine thought it was Aunt Violet who should be called Miss Change-Your-Mind.

  Aunt Violet nodded. ‘I said I would. But I’d better not have to look after any of those snotty brats.’

  Clementine shook her head. ‘Mrs Bottomley said that she only invited parents to come because she had to. She said they really wouldn’t be much use.’

  Violet Appleby raised her eyebrows. ‘Did she now? We’ll see about that.’

  Clementine didn’t know if she should feel happy that Aunt Violet had said yes, or worried that it could turn out like the pet day at school. On that day, Aunt Violet and Pharaoh had won the prize for pet most like its owner, even though Aunt Violet hadn’t entered the competition. But at least now her mother would be able to meet the lady about the wedding and they could get the roof fixed.

  Clementine walked to the door and then turned back to Aunt Violet. The woman was flicking through a magazine. ‘Are you really sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ her great-aunt replied. ‘But if you don’t run along, I might just change my mind.’

  Clementine nodded and scurried out of the room and down the main stairs.

  She stopped on the landing and looked up at the portraits hanging on the wall. ‘Hello Granny and Grandpa. Aunt Violet is coming on the farm excursion. Can you believe it?’

  Clementine could have sworn that her grandfather shook his head ever so slightly.

  ‘I hope she’s on her best behaviour,’ Clementine said.

  Uncle Digby was standing in the hallway below. He wondered how on earth Clementine had convinced her great-aunt to say yes.

  Clementine addressed her granny’s portrait. ‘And I hope she doesn’t upset any of the animals, or Mrs Bottomley.’