Clementine Rose and the Special Promise 11 Read online

  Clarissa smiled at Drew as he wrapped his arm around her waist. ‘Absolutely,’ she said. ‘Let’s see what this cubby is going to look like, shall we?’

  Clementine and Will’s cubby covered almost the entire library. Lavender and Pharaoh had spent part of the afternoon playing chasings in and out of the sheets until the pair of them had fallen sound asleep under one of the armchairs. Clementine was shooting a close-up of Lavender while Will narrated in a deep and frothy voice, like a man he had heard on the television.

  ‘We’ve just stumbled upon a rather unusual hog. I’m not sure of the species but perhaps it’s teacupis piggis,’ the boy said.

  ‘Clemmie! Will!’ Clarissa called. ‘You’d better get changed. The Bakers will be arriving soon.’ The woman walked into the room, wondering where the children were.

  Clementine crawled out from under the covers and stood up. ‘Can we leave the cubby here?’ she begged with pleading eyes.

  ‘Why not? We don’t have any guests in until mid-next week,’ her mother replied. ‘Just don’t tell Aunt Violet.’

  ‘Don’t tell Aunt Violet what?’ the old woman asked, appearing behind her niece. She was wearing a silk blouse and striking teal green skirt, which Clementine thought looked lovely on her. ‘Godfathers! What’s all this mess?’

  ‘Will and I made a cubby in the jungle,’ Clementine informed her. She pointed behind the woman and gasped. ‘Watch out for the hippo, Aunt Violet! They look cute but they’re really fierce.’

  Violet Appleby flicked her hand and stood tall. ‘Hippo schmippo! That beast wouldn’t stand a chance against me. Now, hurry up and pack this away,’ she instructed.

  ‘But Mummy said we can leave it up and play here tomorrow after school,’ Clementine protested.

  Aunt Violet fiddled with the pearls around her neck. ‘Well, you’d better lock the door. I don’t want that Mr Baker telling people the place is a mess.’

  ‘Why? What was he like?’ Clarissa asked. She’d been so busy that she hadn’t had a chance to ask about him.

  ‘Put it this way, Clarissa. He’s no Pierre,’ said Violet Appleby.

  Clementine remembered what Mr Baker had said about taking Lavender. She looked over at the armchair the little pig was underneath, still sound asleep, and felt a pang of worry. ‘Aunt Violet, should we hide Lavender?’

  ‘Why on earth would you need to hide her?’ Lady Clarissa asked. She was now intrigued to know what had happened during their visit to the patisserie.

  ‘I’m sure Mr Baker was just joking, Clementine,’ Aunt Violet said, quickly explaining the situation to Clarissa. ‘But perhaps we should leave them in here to be on the safe side.’

  The children left their video camera and the pets and followed Lady Clarissa out of the room. Aunt Violet locked the door and put the key into her pocket.

  Clementine and Will had just begun a game of Snakes and Ladders when the doorbell rang.

  ‘They’re late,’ Aunt Violet said tersely as she fished around in the drawer for a pair of salad servers. ‘I told them to be here at five.’

  Clementine rolled the die and glanced at the clock. The big hand was on the three, which meant it was quarter past the hour. Digby Pertwhistle was already on the terrace by the billiard room, firing up the barbecue. As there were currently no guests in the hotel, he had opted out of formal attire and had donned beige trousers and a short-sleeved blue shirt.

  Lady Clarissa placed the last strawberry on top of the huge bowl of chocolate mousse. ‘Do you want to come with me, Clemmie?’ she asked. ‘I’m going to take the Bakers straight to the terrace.’

  ‘Okay,’ Clementine replied, sliding off her chair. She wondered if Mr Baker’s daughter would like any of the same things she did, like ballet and poems.

  ‘I’ll start on the drinks,’ Drew said. He’d already helped Digby to set up a makeshift bar and had come back inside to collect the ice buckets.

  Will scooped the board and pieces into its box. ‘I’ll come with you, Dad.’

  Father and son headed out of the kitchen and around the rear hall to the billiard room, which had recently been renovated. It had been shut off for years, the receptacle of more junk than Clarissa cared to remember. But in the past few months the billiard table had been unearthed, the walls repapered and the cobwebs done away with. It was proving to be a huge hit with the guests and had direct access to a lovely terrace, which could now be put to proper use. Clarissa wished she had reinstated it years ago but, with a total of sixty rooms, there was always too much to do at Penberthy House.

  The bell rang again just as Clarissa opened the door. A woman with a mane of platinum-blonde curls that reached almost to her waist stood beside Roger Baker. She wore towering red heels, which bumped her up a couple of inches taller than her husband, and her red dress clung to her every curve. The child in front of them looked like a miniature version of Mrs Baker with equally long hair. She was wearing a black skirt, a silver sequinned midriff top and a pout to match.

  ‘Hello, welcome to Penberthy House,’ Clarissa said with a smile.

  ‘Sorry, Roger didn’t say whether we were supposed to dress up or not,’ the woman said, giving Clarissa’s sundress and cardigan the once-over.

  Clarissa was about to answer when Mr Baker jumped in. ‘You must be Clarissa Appleby. I’m Roger and this is my wife, Chanelle, and my daughter, Saskia.’ He turned to his wife and daughter. ‘And this is Clemmie Rose. I told you she was a little cutie.’

  ‘Where’s your pig?’ his daughter demanded. ‘Daddy said you’ve got a pig and I want to see it.’

  Clementine gulped and looked at the man.

  ‘Sassy, I’m sure that Clemmie Rose will show you the pig soon,’ her mother cooed, ‘although I can’t imagine for the life of me why you’d want a pig as a pet. They’re so dirty and smelly.’

  ‘Lavender is actually very clean,’ Clementine said. ‘She’s lovely but she’s asleep at the moment.’

  Saskia stamped her foot. ‘But Daddy said that I could see her.’

  ‘Perhaps you can later,’ Clarissa said, smiling at the girl. ‘Now, why don’t we go through to the terrace? I believe Uncle Digby’s got the barbecue started.’

  Mrs Baker’s head swivelled from side to side as the group piled into the entrance foyer. ‘What a beautiful house,’ she gushed. ‘Look at those portraits.’

  ‘That’s Granny and Grandpa,’ Clementine said. ‘I told them you were coming tonight.’

  Saskia curled her top lip. ‘They’re not real people.’

  ‘I know,’ Clementine replied, shrinking into her mother’s side, ‘but I like to think they’re still here and part of the family.’

  ‘That’s so stupid,’ Saskia muttered under her breath.

  Lady Clarissa put an arm around her daughter. ‘Please follow me,’ she said, leading the way to the billiard room. The group exited through the French doors and onto the patio, where the barbecue was sizzling away. As if on cue, Drew popped a champagne cork.

  ‘Ooh, who do we have here?’ Mrs Baker simpered.

  Drew set down the bottle and held out his hand. ‘Hello, I’m Drew and this is my son, Will,’ he said, nodding towards the boy, who was standing beside him.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m Chanelle and this is Sassy and my husband, Roger,’ the woman said.

  Uncle Digby turned from the grill and shook hands with Mr Baker. ‘Hello again,’ he said warmly.

  Saskia pointed at Aunt Violet, who had just appeared in the doorway. ‘Is that your wife?’ she asked.

  ‘Godfathers no!’ the old woman sputtered. ‘Just because we’re a similar vintage doesn’t mean we’re married. Mr Pertwhistle is our butler.’

  Chanelle’s heavily made-up face creased with confusion. ‘How curious. I thought butlers wore those funny penguin suits and didn’t speak unless they were spoken to.’

  ‘I’m glad to say we don’t observe such rules here,’ Clarissa said, shooting Aunt Violet a glare. ‘Uncle Digby began
working for my father a long time ago and has become a very dear member of our family. I honestly don’t know how we would cope without him.’

  The old man winked at her in gratitude and turned back to tend the barbecue.

  ‘Do you want to play a game?’ Clementine asked Saskia. ‘We have Snakes and Ladders.’

  Saskia rolled her eyes. ‘I hate that one.’

  ‘I’ve got a soccer ball?’ Clementine offered hopefully.

  ‘I hate soccer too,’ Saskia spat. ‘I want to see the pig!’

  Clementine and Will looked at one another. ‘But Lavender’s asleep,’ Clementine said.

  ‘That’s not fair. Daddy said,’ Saskia whined.

  ‘I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we make a movie instead?’ Will suggested.

  Saskia flicked her hair over her shoulders. ‘Only if I can be the star.’

  ‘I’ll go and get the camera,’ Will said, heading over to Aunt Violet to ask her for the library key.

  Clementine looked across at her mother, who winked. Not that they knew it, but both of them were already thinking it was going to be a long night ahead.

  Roger Baker wandered over to talk to Uncle Digby. They were soon comparing barbecuing techniques while Drew pulled out some chairs for the rest of the party. Clarissa thought Chanelle might be keen to know about the children’s school or some of the community activities she could become involved with, but it seemed that the woman’s top priority was to locate a hairdresser and beautician. Clarissa gave her a few suggestions, although having her nails done was not something she’d ever fussed about and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a facial. Aunt Violet was a little more helpful but Drew just nodded and smiled politely. He didn’t have the foggiest idea about paraffin pedis or mini-waxes. It all sounded rather painful as far as he was concerned.

  Clementine scratched around for something to say to Saskia while they waited for Will to return. She tried to take extra care with her words as the girl seemed to bite at every syllable she uttered. ‘Would you like a drink?’ she finally asked. ‘We have some home-made lemonade.’

  Saskia shrugged. Clementine carefully poured two glasses and another for Will, which she left on the tray. She passed Saskia hers.

  The girl peered into the cloudy liquid. ‘What’s that stuff?’ she asked, pointing into the glass.

  ‘It’s just the little bits of lemon,’ Clementine replied. ‘There’s ice in there too.’

  Saskia sniffed the glass suspiciously and pulled a face. ‘It doesn’t smell like lemonade.’

  ‘It tastes yummy,’ Clementine assured her. ‘Mummy taught me how to make it and all the guests love it in summertime.’

  Saskia lifted the glass to her lips and took the smallest of sips, then spat it out all over the place. ‘That’s disgusting!’ the girl declared.

  Clementine frowned and sniffed her glass, then took a tentative sip. It tasted perfectly all right to her.

  ‘MUMMY!’ Saskia screeched at the top of her lungs. ‘Clemmie Rose said this was lemonade and it doesn’t even have any fizz and it’s got bits in it.’ The girl tipped the rest of the contents onto the terrace.

  ‘Sassy!’ Roger reprimanded. ‘Stop that now!’

  Saskia spun around and glared at her father. ‘You can’t tell me what to do!’ she shouted, throwing her glass onto the sandstone pavers. Everyone watched on in dismay as it smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.

  Clementine gasped.

  Aunt Violet’s mouth flapped open as she stared at the child. ‘Good heavens, what do you think you’re doing?’

  A low groan quickly escalated to a high-pitched wail. Uncle Digby covered his ears as Roger Baker stalked over to the girl. He grabbed her by the arms, which were now flailing about like washing on the line in a fierce wind.

  ‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ Saskia roared.

  Mrs Baker turned to Drew in desperation. ‘Quickly, do you have some proper lemonade?’ she asked.

  Drew didn’t miss a beat. He jumped out of his seat and pulled a bottle from the bucket of ice nearby.

  Chanelle snatched it from his hand and tottered over to her daughter. ‘Sassy, darling, Mummy’s got you some real lemonade. You don’t have to drink that nasty home-made brew.’

  Saskia continued warbling for a few seconds before she stopped and took the glass from her mother. She raised it to her lips and gulped it down.

  Chanelle pushed a stray curl away from the girl’s face. ‘Is that better, honey bunch?’

  Saskia nodded. She blinked her big amber eyes and fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

  ‘Oh, Sassy, don’t cry. Daddy didn’t mean to be angry,’ Mrs Baker said, stroking her daughter’s hair.

  Violet Appleby shook her head and tutted. ‘Surely Mrs Baker is not rewarding that dreadful behav–’

  Clarissa scraped back her chair. ‘Aunt Violet, could you give me a hand in the kitchen?’ she asked.

  The old woman rolled her eyes and stood up. ‘I’d have had the child standing on one leg in the middle of the back lawn for the rest of the evening,’ she hissed.

  ‘She’s a high-spirited little thing, isn’t she?’ Clarissa said, wishing Aunt Violet would keep her voice down.

  Violet Appleby threw her niece a look. ‘Clementine is high-spirited at times, Clarissa,’ she said pointedly. ‘That child, however, is a downright menace to society.’

  The two women entered the billiard room and passed Will, who was heading in the opposite direction. The boy had been struggling with the lock on the library door and had missed the commotion.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked, surveying the mess.

  ‘Just a little accident,’ Chanelle said.

  ‘Is that what we’re going to call it?’ Uncle Digby muttered under his breath as he swept up the glass.

  ‘Well, kids, why don’t you go off and make a movie?’ Roger said. ‘Sassy, be sure that everyone gets a turn in front of the camera.’

  Saskia’s lip dropped and Clementine braced herself for another tantrum. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ the child said, eager to avoid a repeat performance of the girl’s earlier behaviour. ‘I know a tree we can climb.’

  ‘But I don’t climb trees,’ Saskia protested.

  Clementine sighed. She was beginning to wonder if there was anything in the world the girl actually did like to do.

  Saskia followed Clementine and Will across the back lawn. ‘What are we going to do for the movie?’ she asked.

  ‘We could make up a story,’ Clementine suggested. ‘What if we turn into pirates? The oak tree over there can be our ship.’

  ‘I don’t want to be a pirate,’ Saskia said, kicking a tuft of grass. ‘I want to be a princess and you have to be an evil witch and then he has to save me.’ She pointed at Will.

  Clementine smiled. ‘Okay. What about if, in the end, the evil witch turns out to be good?’ she said.

  ‘No, that’s stupid. Everyone knows the witch is always evil and the princess always has to be rescued,’ Saskia snapped.

  ‘Princesses can look after themselves, you know,’ Clementine said. ‘They don’t always have to be anything.’

  Saskia scoffed. She bent down to pick up a stick and broke it into little bits. ‘Does your mum love his dad?’ she asked after a while.

  Clementine nodded.

  Saskia pulled a face like she had stepped in dogs’ droppings. ‘Gross.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Will said.

  ‘They’ll probably get married and have a baby and then they won’t care about you two anymore,’ Saskia said, smirking. ‘That’s what happened to my cousin. Her dad got married to this horrible lady and they had a baby and now they ignore her and she has to sleep in a cupboard.’

  ‘That wouldn’t happen to us,’ Clementine said. ‘That’s not even true.’

  ‘Yes, it is. You don’t know anything about my cousin,’ Saskia retorted, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Where’s your dad, anyway?’

  Clementine shrugged. She wis
hed it was dinnertime already.

  ‘She was adopted,’ Will said, to Clementine’s dismay.

  ‘Then it will be even worse because she’s not your real mother,’ Saskia said.

  Clementine felt her tummy twist.

  Saskia turned her attention to Will. ‘Where’s your mum?’

  Clementine waited for him to reply but the boy said nothing. ‘She died,’ Clementine said. Will looked at her with angry eyes. ‘Well, she did,’ the child said, her stomach clenching again. She wondered if she was having another appendicitis. The doctor had said that you only had one appendix and he’d taken that out, but maybe Clementine had two and he’d missed the second one.

  ‘You didn’t have to tell her that,’ Will whispered.

  ‘And you didn’t have to tell her I was adopted,’ Clementine replied. She didn’t know why she was so angry. She had never worried about telling people that Uncle Digby and Pierre had found her in a basket of dinner rolls. But Saskia was different to her other friends. Even Joshua didn’t seem quite so bad at the moment.

  ‘Well, are we going to make this movie or not?’ Saskia sighed.

  Will’s brow furrowed. ‘I don’t feel like it anymore.’

  ‘Me either,’ Clementine said.

  ‘I told Mummy you’d be babies,’ Saskia said, rolling her eyes. She stalked back across the lawn and around to the terrace, leaving the two friends on their own.

  ‘Do you think what she said is true?’ Clementine asked.

  Will shook his head. ‘No, my dad would never marry your mum.’

  Clementine suddenly felt very cross. ‘Good. I don’t want them to get married anyway.’ She spun around and stomped to the other end of the garden. Will turned and skulked off in the opposite direction.

  Lady Clarissa watched as Clementine pushed a potato around her plate. Her daughter had unexpectedly insisted on sitting beside her at the dinner table, while Will sat next to his father at the opposite end of the table. She was surprised the children hadn’t wanted to sit together and had a feeling their young guest might have had a part to play in the matter.