Clementine Rose and the Famous Friend 7 Read online

‘I hadn’t realised Year One was a democracy,’ the old woman griped. She pinched her lips together as if she’d just sucked a lemon.

  ‘Oh yes,’ the man replied. ‘Just wait until you see what the children have in store for you in a couple of weeks’ time.’

  ‘I shudder to think. I suspect by then they’ll be in charge of the classroom, with you tied to your chair, blindfolded and a … a … a pumpkin balanced on your head!’ she exclaimed.

  There was a gasp as the children watched Mrs Bottomley turn on her sensible brown heels and march out the door.

  ‘Oops,’ Mr Smee said with a grimace. He wondered if there was a reason she’d come to the door or if she was simply spying on him.

  ‘Don’t worry about her, Mr Smee,’ Clementine said. ‘Mrs Bottomley barks more than she bites.’

  ‘Well, that’s a relief.’ The teacher gave Clementine an embarrassed grin. He was imagining just how big a pumpkin might fit on top of his head.

  Clementine and her friends hurried to the school gate where lots of parents were milling about waiting for their children. She scanned the crowd, searching for Aunt Violet, but there was no sign of her. It wasn’t long until there was just Clementine, Tilda, Teddy and Araminta Hobbs left standing with Mrs Bottomley, who was on duty.

  ‘Who’s picking you up today, Clementine?’ the teacher asked.

  ‘It’s supposed to be Aunt Violet but she must be running late,’ Clementine replied with a shrug.

  Mrs Bottomley looked down at her watch. ‘I hope she’s not too much longer. I have an appointment at the hairdresser.’

  ‘But your hair always looks the same,’ Clementine commented.

  ‘Yes, that’s because I have regular appointments. What about you lot?’ Mrs Bottomley looked at Araminta and the twins.

  ‘Daddy’s coming, I think,’ the older girl said.

  The woman frowned. ‘Well, he’d better hurry up too.’

  In the distance the children spied a red car speeding towards them. It screeched to a halt and Aunt Violet hopped out and walked around to the footpath.

  ‘You’re a bit late, Violet,’ Mrs Bottomley said tersely.

  ‘Ethel, you have no idea,’ Aunt Violet blustered, ignoring her friend’s tetchiness. ‘We have a very demanding guest at the moment and Clarissa and Pertwhistle have been so distracted that I’ve been running up and down stairs to the woman, seeing to her every need. She rings that bell more often than a door-to-door salesman. But I’m not allowed to use mine – even when I’ve got a bad head, all I get is ignored!’

  ‘Poor you,’ Mrs Bottomley commented. ‘Perhaps you’d like to spend a day with Kindergarten instead?’

  ‘Godfathers, not in this lifetime. Although apparently I’m running a car pool for half the village.’ The old woman cast her eyes towards the Hobbs children.

  ‘Oh good, are you taking them with you?’ Mrs Bottomley asked. She was thinking that she might just make her hair appointment after all.

  ‘Yes,’ Aunt Violet huffed.

  ‘Why are you late, Aunt Violet?’ Clementine asked.

  ‘And hello to you too. Come along Hobbses, you’re coming with us,’ said Aunt Violet, turning her attention to the three children standing by the fence.

  Clementine’s eyes lit up.

  Araminta frowned. ‘But Daddy said he’d pick us up on his way home from the city.’

  ‘It seems that your parents have been delayed. They’ll drop over and get you in a little while,’ Aunt Violet said. ‘I’ll see you for bridge next week, Ethel.’ Aunt Violet turned back around but Mrs Bottomley had already fled. ‘Good heavens! What’s happened to everyone’s manners today?’

  Teddy wrenched open the back door of the car and launched his backpack across the seat. ‘Can we play with Lavender when we get home?’

  ‘Excuse me, young man! I don’t know how you treat your parents’ car, but in mine bags go in the boot, if you don’t mind,’ Aunt Violet said tersely.

  Teddy sheepishly crawled across the seat and retrieved the offending item, which Aunt Violet snatched off him.

  ‘We can play with Lavender and Pharaoh too,’ Clementine said, trying to make Teddy feel better.

  The children piled into the back of the car. Araminta sat next to Aunt Violet, who turned the key in the ignition and revved the engine.

  ‘Has everyone got their seatbelts on?’ Araminta asked as she realised the old woman was about to drive off without checking.

  ‘Oh, yes, hurry up,’ Aunt Violet said. ‘I have to stop at Pierre’s. Why he couldn’t have delivered everything this afternoon is beyond me. What do I look like? A courier?’

  ‘Pierre’s? Yum!’ Clementine exclaimed. ‘May we have something for afternoon tea?’

  ‘Don’t push your luck, Clementine,’ Aunt Violet said as she sped away from the kerb and down the street.

  Aunt Violet pulled up outside the shop and was surprised to see Pierre standing on the footpath holding two large cake boxes.

  ‘Bonjour, Madam Appleby,’ he said with a smile as the woman hopped out of the car. ‘I ’ave everything ready for you. Monsieur Pertwhistle telephoned ahead and said that you would ’ave the children, so it is much easier for me to come out to you. And I am so sorry I could not make the delivery. My van is being repaired.’

  ‘Oh. Well, thank you, Pierre,’ Aunt Violet replied. His gesture seemed to take the wind right out of her sails.

  Clementine put the window down so she could say hello.

  ‘I ’ope you don’t mind but I have included some treats for the youngsters.’ Pierre looked at Clementine and gave her a wink.

  Clementine clapped her hands together. ‘Thank you, Pierre,’ she called.

  The man placed the boxes in the boot and made sure they were securely positioned with the schoolbags around them.

  ‘Bon appétit, children!’ Pierre grinned and gave a wave as Aunt Violet hopped back into the car. Clementine and the Hobbs children waved back as Aunt Violet drove away.

  ‘Pierre’s so thoughtful,’ said Clementine.

  Tilda nodded. ‘And he makes the best cakes.’

  The children chatted as Aunt Violet concentrated on the road ahead.

  ‘Who are you going to do your project on, Clementine?’ Tilda asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she replied.

  ‘What’s this about a project?’ Aunt Violet asked.

  ‘It’s called My Famous Friend,’ Tilda offered. ‘I’m doing mine about Mummy.’

  ‘And I’m going to do Daddy,’ said Teddy.

  ‘Clementine, what about you?’ Aunt Violet asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’ She shook her head. ‘There’s no one famous in our family.’

  ‘Does the person have to be famous?’ Aunt Violet asked, glancing in the rear-vision mirror at the children in the back seat.

  ‘They have to be someone we admire and look up to,’ Teddy explained.

  ‘Well,’ said Aunt Violet. ‘Isn’t there someone in the family you admire and look up to, Clementine?’

  ‘Mummy and Grandpa, but they’re not famous. I wonder if Miss Richardson is famous. She’s the writer lady who’s staying at the house,’ Clementine explained to her friends.

  ‘Well, that’s lovely, isn’t it? Not only do I get the pleasure of ferrying you all over the country side, I’m not even mildly interesting enough to be considered,’ Aunt Violet muttered under her breath.

  ‘What did you say, Aunt Violet?’ Clementine asked.

  ‘I said I’ve told you, Clementine. I’ve never heard of Miss Richardson. Surely there’s someone else in the family that you’d like to do your project on?’ Her mouth tightened in a straight line.

  Tilda saw Aunt Violet’s face in the mirror then leaned over and whispered in Clementine’s ear.

  ‘Aunt Violet?’ Clementine looked at her friend in confusion.

  The old woman’s ears perked up. ‘Oh, Clementine, really, you’d like to do your project on me?’

  Clementine still looked puzzled.
‘No. You’re not famous, Aunt Violet, and you haven’t done anything interesting.’

  ‘Well, for your information I’ve done plenty of interesting things, thank you very much. A lot more than that dowdy old woman upstairs.’

  Aunt Violet’s chin trembled and she looked as if she might cry.

  Tilda watched her carefully in the mirror. ‘Are you all right, Miss Appleby?’

  ‘I’m fine, Tilda,’ she snapped and stared at the road ahead. ‘I know when I’m not wanted.’

  Clementine bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Violet.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry too, Clementine,’ the old woman said.

  For the rest of the journey you could have heard a pin drop.

  Uncle Digby was putting the rubbish out when Aunt Violet turned the car into the driveway and pulled up in front of the garage.

  The children leapt out and ran around to collect their bags from the boot.

  ‘Did you go to Pierre’s?’ the old man asked as Aunt Violet stalked past him.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she huffed. ‘Although no one in this family gives half a thought to my contributions.’

  Uncle Digby frowned. He looked at Clementine. ‘What was that all about?’

  Clementine shrugged. ‘I think Aunt Violet’s upset because I didn’t want to do my project on her.’

  Uncle Digby’s eyebrows shot up but all he said was, ‘Oh, I see.’ He retrieved the cake boxes. ‘Why don’t you go and play and I’ll bring you something to eat soon.’

  Clementine and the Hobbs children nodded and raced away inside to dump their bags.

  ‘I’ll get my ball,’ said Clementine.

  Soon the four of them were enjoying a boisterous game of soccer on the back lawn. Lavender changed teams depending on the direction of the ball. The little pig squeaked and grunted as she wove in and out of legs, pushing the ball with her snout whenever it came her way. Pharaoh had joined in for a couple of minutes until a fluttery white butterfly stole his attention and he chased it into the hollyhocks instead.

  ‘Hello Uncle Digby.’ Clementine gave a wave as the old man appeared at the back door carrying a tray.

  ‘Here’s your afternoon tea at last,’ he announced. ‘Your mother and I have been caught up with guests.’

  ‘Is Aunt Violet all right?’ Clementine asked with a frown.

  ‘I haven’t seen her since you arrived home,’ Uncle Digby said.

  ‘Oh.’ Clementine bit her lip and then shrugged and turned to her friends. ‘Who wants some lemonade?’

  Uncle Digby poured four tall glasses as the three siblings charged over.

  Teddy downed his in one gulp. ‘Ahhh!’

  ‘Steady on there, Teddy, you’ll give yourself a tummy ache.’ Uncle Digby grinned at the lad, who reached for a chocolate brownie.

  ‘Soccer makes you thirsty,’ Teddy replied. ‘And hungry.’

  Lavender snuffled over to her water bowl by the back door.

  ‘Your mother telephoned a little while ago and said that she and your father will be here in about fifteen minutes,’ Uncle Digby informed the Hobbs children.

  There was a groan all around.

  ‘Come on, we’d better finish the game,’ said Clementine. She put her glass down on the tray.

  ‘Just leave all that and I’ll get it later,’ Uncle Digby said as he walked back to the door.

  ‘Thanks, Uncle Digby,’ the children chorused.

  The old man smiled to himself.

  ‘What’s the score?’ Tilda asked.

  ‘It’s one–nil, Clementine and Teddy’s way,’ Araminta announced.

  ‘Come on, Mintie, we need to score a goal,’ Tilda urged her big sister.

  Clementine placed the ball in the middle of the lawn and ran backwards to stand beside Teddy. Teddy gave the referee’s whistle and Araminta rushed forward. She kicked the ball as hard as she could down the pitch. Lavender looked up from where she was resting by the back steps, squealed and raced after it.

  Teddy reached it first. ‘Clementine,’ he called as he kicked the ball past his big sister. Clementine stopped the ball and tried to dribble it past Tilda, who stole it back again and kicked it to Araminta.

  ‘Come on, Tilda,’ Araminta called as she raced towards the makeshift goal. She kicked and the ball flew past Clemmie and Teddy, straight into goal.

  Tilda and Araminta raced towards each other, hands in the air, whooping and squealing. Lavender was squealing too.

  ‘Good goal, Mintie,’ Teddy called as he picked up the ball and ran back to the centre of the lawn. ‘It’s one-all.’

  The children regrouped. Tilda whistled and Teddy kicked the ball back towards Clementine. She raced down the pitch past Araminta and Tilda. Clementine looked at the goal, a frown of determination on her face. Araminta tackled Clementine just as the younger girl was about to kick for goal. They both connected with the ball at the same time. It flew into the air, higher and higher.

  ‘Oh no!’ Clementine shouted as she watched it soaring towards the house.

  Smash! The ball splintered the window, leaving a gaping hole in the middle of the pane.

  The Hobbs children clutched their hands to their mouths and stood still, waiting for someone to appear.

  Araminta raced towards the house and peered up at the shattered glass. ‘I’m sorry, Clemmie. That was all my fault.’

  Clementine shook her head. ‘No, it wasn’t. I kicked it too.’

  ‘Which window is it?’ Teddy asked. He was trying to remember what was on the second floor.

  Clementine looked up again and gasped. ‘It’s the Rose Room. That’s where Miss Richardson is staying.’

  ‘Is that the writer lady you talked about in the car?’

  Clementine nodded. She wondered if the woman was sitting beneath the window at the desk. If she was she might have been injured by the glass. So far there was no screaming, nor an angry face appearing at the window.

  ‘I have to tell Mummy,’ said Clementine. She ran inside, leaving the Hobbs children in the garden wondering if there was anything they could do.

  Clementine rushed into the kitchen. The room was empty.

  She could hear voices in the hallway and poked her head around the door. Her mother was talking to a tall man carrying a suitcase and a woman with red hair.

  Clementine wondered if Uncle Digby was upstairs. She closed the door and was about to go up the back stairs when the door swung towards her and Aunt Violet walked in.

  ‘Hello Clementine.’

  ‘Have you seen Uncle Digby?’ the child asked urgently.

  ‘Yes, and hello to you too,’ the old woman said snarkily. ‘He’s upstairs sorting out some sort of drama.’

  Clementine’s tummy fluttered. She wondered if Miss Richardson was very upset about the window.

  ‘What’s the matter with you? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,’ said Aunt Violet.

  Clementine shook her head. She didn’t want to tell her great-aunt.

  ‘I know when something is wrong, Clementine, despite the fact that you think I’m utterly useless. Where are the Hobbs children?’

  ‘Outside,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Well, why are you in here?’ Aunt Violet was like a terrier with a bone.

  ‘I … I … had an accident,’ Clementine blurted.

  ‘Godfathers, Clementine, at your age! Too much excitement and running about,’ Aunt Violet tutted and looked the girl up and down.

  Clementine stared at her great-aunt quizzically.

  ‘Come along and we’ll get you some fresh clothes,’ the woman said.

  Clementine’s mouth dropped open. ‘Oh no, not that sort of accident, Aunt Violet. I’m not a baby.’

  ‘No?’ Aunt Violet arched her eyebrow. ‘What sort of accident are you talking about?’

  ‘I kicked the ball and it flew up really high and I didn’t think I could even kick it that hard and –’

  ‘Hello?’ a voice called from the back door.

  ‘Ana, darling, we’re
in here,’ Aunt Violet answered.

  Ana Hobbs stepped into the kitchen. Aunt Violet strode over to greet her with a kiss on both cheeks.

  ‘Hello Clemmie, the children said that you were inside,’ Ana said warmly.

  ‘Hi,’ Clementine said sheepishly. She wondered what else the children had told their mother.

  ‘I just came to say thank you, Violet. No need to get Clarissa. I gather from the cars in the driveway that you must be busy tonight,’ Ana said with a nod.

  Aunt Violet’s lip curled. ‘Yes, unfortunately.’

  ‘But it’s wonderful for business,’ Ana said, looking puzzled. ‘I won’t keep you. Are those the children’s schoolbags over there?’

  Clementine went to the sideboard and heaved the three bags over to Ana. The trio headed outside where Tilda, Teddy and Araminta were waiting.

  ‘Say thank you,’ Ana directed her children.

  The twins and Araminta frowned at Clementine, wondering if she’d told her great-aunt about the window yet. ‘Thanks,’ they chorused.

  ‘Sorry about the … you know,’ said Araminta.

  Aunt Violet frowned. ‘What’s that, Araminta?’

  ‘Nothing, Aunt Violet,’ Clementine said, shaking her head.

  ‘Can Clementine come and play tomorrow, Mummy?’ Tilda asked.

  ‘Perhaps on Sunday, darling. Tomorrow we have to go and see Granny.’

  ‘Don’t forget we have to choose our famous friend too,’ Teddy said.

  ‘What’s that?’ Ana asked.

  ‘We’ve got a project,’ Tilda explained, ‘and I’m going to do it on you, Mummy.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t wait to hear all about that.’ Ana pretended to grimace and then turned to Aunt Violet.

  ‘At least your children hold you in some regard,’ Aunt Violet said, glaring at Clementine.

  Ana frowned, wondering if there was a problem. ‘Please thank Clarissa for having the children and say I’ll give her a call on Sunday. Come along, kids, your father’s in the car.’

  The children and their mother gave a wave and disappeared around the side of the house.

  Aunt Violet arched her eyebrow. ‘Now, you’d better tell me about this accident, young lady.’

  Clementine pointed upwards. ‘I broke the window.’