Clementine Rose and the Birthday Emergency Page 5

  Aunt Violet beamed. ‘Well done, Clemmie.’

  ‘Miss Appleby, aren’t you supposed to be giving out the third-place ribbon?’ Mrs Tribble asked curtly. She gestured to Sophie, who was looking forlornly at the old woman, wondering if she was ever going to get her prize.

  ‘Sorry, dear,’ Aunt Violet said, handing Sophie the green ribbon. ‘Here you go.’

  ‘Come on, Year One,’ Poppy’s father, Mr Bauer called to the children. ‘We’d better get started on the high jump or it will be lunchtime before we know it.’

  The students charged off, gathering around the man like a swarm of bees.

  Clementine Rose was having a wonderful time. She’d come second in the long jump, behind Sophie, and fourth in the high jump. She had even placed third in the beanbag throw. By lunchtime, she was exhausted.

  ‘What a day, darling!’ Lady Clarissa said as she pulled her daughter onto her lap.

  ‘I’ve got four ribbons,’ Clementine declared, proudly holding up three fingers. ‘Blue, red, green and white.’

  Aunt Violet frowned. ‘I think we’d better work on your mathematics as well as your spelling.’

  Clementine looked at her fingers. Then, realising her mistake, she released her pinkie, which shot up to make four. ‘Oops.’

  Pierre looked over from where he and his family were eating ham-and-cheese baguettes. ‘You’re a very fast runner, Clementine,’ he said.

  The girl beamed. ‘Thank you. Sophie’s a good runner too.’

  Pierre popped the last bite of his baguette into his mouth and dusted off his hands. He reached into their giant wicker picnic basket and pulled out a huge white box. ‘I’ve brought us all some treats.’

  ‘Ooh, is there a cream bun in there for me?’ Uncle Digby patted his tummy and winked at Clemmie.

  ‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Pierre teased. He opened the lid to reveal a tasty array of cakes and pastries. There were two cream buns, some cinnamon donuts, a chocolate brownie, three caramel slices and two custard tarts. He placed the box on the ground, and Clementine peered inside.

  ‘May I have the brownie?’ she asked.

  The man smiled. ‘Oui, of course you may.’

  ‘Do you want to wait until after your last race to have it?’ Lady Clarissa asked.

  Clementine nodded. ‘We want to beat the teachers and mums and dads, but you should all eat lots of cake.’

  Sophie giggled. ‘That will make them SLOW!’

  ‘Actually, Clemmie, you’ve hardly touched a bite of your lunch,’ Lady Clarissa said, noticing that the girl’s sandwich had only been nibbled around the edges. ‘You should eat something. You want to have enough energy to run.’

  Clementine shook her head. ‘I don’t feel like it, Mummy. I have too many butterflies and I got a stick in my last race.’

  Her mother couldn’t help but laugh. ‘I think you mean a stitch, Clemmie.’

  ‘Oh, that too,’ Clementine smiled.

  ‘Are you excited about your party, Clementine?’ Odette Rousseau asked the girl.

  The child’s eyes widened as she nodded. ‘I’ve been making decorations, and Mummy’s going to bake a pirate ship with a princess on board, and I’m going to help her.’

  Odette smiled. ‘That sounds wonderful, but I hope it’s a cake and not a real pirate ship!’

  Clementine giggled and looked at her mother. ‘Is every one coming?’

  ‘Just about, I think,’ Lady Clarissa replied with a nod.

  ‘What about Drew and Will?’ Clementine said.

  Lady Clarissa grinned. ‘I spoke to Drew yesterday and he said he’d do his best.’

  Clementine’s smile grew even wider. ‘I can’t wait to see Will again.’

  On the other side of the Applebys, the Hobbses had just returned from the barbecue that Mr Pickles and Mr Archibald had set up on the edge of the oval. They were now devouring the most delicious-smelling sausage sandwiches.

  ‘I hear you’re soon to be the proud owners of a new puppy,’ Uncle Digby said.

  Teddy leapt up, splashing tomato sauce all over his shirt. ‘Cosmo’s the cutest thing ever,’ he said, hardly able to contain his excitement.

  Ana grabbed a tissue and wiped the splodge. ‘What a grub you are,’ she laughed.

  ‘If you hadn’t seen him first I might have been tempted myself,’ Uncle Digby admitted.

  ‘That’s a great idea!’ Clementine said. ‘We should get a puppy so Uncle Digby will have his own pet. But then you’d have to get one too Mummy.’

  ‘I think I have enough to worry about,’ Lady Clarissa said, ‘though I do like the idea of a puppy. Perhaps we should think about that.’

  There was a crackle of static before Miss Critchley’s voice sailed from the loudspeaker. ‘Would all the children and parents and teachers who are running in the special relay race proceed to the marshalling area, please?’

  Some of the children began prodding and whispering to each other, wondering why the head teacher was wearing a bathrobe over her clothes.

  ‘Time to go, Clemmie,’ her mother said, helping her up.

  Angus jumped up from a blanket just along the row and dashed over. ‘Come on!’ he said, taking Clementine by the hand. With that, the two of them shot off towards Mrs Bottomley, whose giant hat was practically blocking out the sun.

  Clementine caught sight of Mr Tribble making his way down. He was wearing shiny blue shorts and a singlet top, revealing much more impressive muscles than anyone might have thought he’d possess. Ana Hobbs was also part of the parents’ team. She had donned gym pants, trainers and a white T-shirt. There were a whole lot of mums and dads, some stretching and jogging on the spot while others stood around chatting.

  All of a sudden, the audience sitting on the hill let out a huge cheer. Clementine and Angus craned their necks to see what everyone was looking at. It was the teachers’ team, led by Miss Critchley, who was no longer wearing the bathrobe. They were all wearing matching outfits of black pants, runners and Superman T-shirts, as well as sweatbands around their heads and on their wrists.

  Everyone roared with laughter as Mr Smee swept onto the oval last of all. He looked the same as the others with the single addition of a long red cape. He stood in front of everyone and raised his left hand into the air as if he were about to take off into the sky.

  Mrs Bottomley stepped up to the microphone to explain what was happening and to be the official starter for the event. It took several minutes to organise everyone into their teams and then half of each group walked to the other end of the 100-metre track. To make things more fair, the children were to be given a head start.

  As she made her way to the other side, Clementine felt her tummy grumble.

  ‘Are you all right, Clementine?’ Miss Critchley asked, thinking the girl looked rather pale.

  ‘I’m okay,’ Clementine replied, her mouth twisting slightly as she felt another nasty twinge in her side.

  ‘If you’re not well, we can always get one of the other children to run instead,’ the head teacher offered.

  Clementine shook her head. She had been looking forward to this race all week.

  ‘Well, it seems that we’re finally ready,’ Mrs Bottomley said. ‘On your –’

  ‘Hang on a tick!’ Mr Tribble shouted.

  ‘What now?’ Mrs Bottomley boomed. The micro phone screeched, and everyone in the crowd flinched. ‘Stop that, you silly thing,’ Mrs Bottomley hissed. She stepped away and the noise ceased.

  ‘I’ve got to do up my shoelaces,’ Mr Tribble explained.

  ‘Is that all? I hope you’re faster at it than your son.’ Mrs Bottomley cast her eyes across the track at Joshua, who was doing some sort of strange dance. She waited a minute before resuming her duties. ‘All right, is everyone ready now?’

  Heads nodded and there was a cacophony of yeses from the track.

  James, one of the Year Six boys, was first up for the children. He was the fastest boy in the school and, with the benefit of the head start, was su
re to give the students a decent lead. Mr Tribble was the first runner for the parents, and Mrs Cheng was striking out for the teachers.

  ‘On your marks, get set …’ Mrs Bottomley paused for dramatic effect.

  ‘Get on with it!’ Mr Tribble demanded. The man had been squatting in a proper starting position. ‘I’m getting a cramp, woman!’

  ‘There’s no need for that tone,’ Mrs Bottomley huffed. ‘James, on your marks, get set …’ Mrs Bottomley raised the hooter into the air and pressed down. A blast of sound filled the oval.

  James launched off the start line and raced to the other end of the field. Meanwhile, Mrs Cheng danced about, impatient for her cue, and Mr Tribble looked to be wobbling in his crouching stance.

  ‘Come on, Mrs Bottomley. James is almost at the other end,’ he griped.

  The woman’s lips twitched, trying to suppress a smile. She glanced at the stopwatch in her hand. ‘Go!’ she shouted.

  Mr Tribble took off at top speed, with Mrs Cheng doing her best to keep up. The crowd went wild as the children all chanted James’s name. The lad reached the other end and passed the shiny baton to a girl called Jemima, who immediately sprinted away. She was almost a whole length ahead of the parents and teachers.

  The children achieved a commanding lead as the baton changed hands over and over. At one point, the audience gasped when Bertie dropped the baton just as he was about to pass it to the other Kindergarten runner, Louisa. Undeterred, the little girl snatched it up and started running.

  Clementine’s tummy continued to twist and turn. She was going to be the last runner for her team, as Mrs Bottomley had insisted that the Kindergarten children run in the middle of the group. The woman had been sure the Kindergarteners would crack under the pressure and give up, but neither of them had. The parents had fallen behind the teachers, who were beginning to gain on the children. Clementine watched as Angus took the baton and charged away.

  ‘Go, Angus!’ the children screamed from the hill. The parents were on their feet too, making as much noise as the kids.

  ‘Godfathers, I can’t watch,’ Aunt Violet muttered, hiding behind her hands. ‘Why did they leave Clementine to last? She’s too little.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Angus is in front by miles,’ Uncle Digby said. ‘Clementine has this in the bag.’

  Angus raced towards Clemmie. He passed her the shiny baton, which she grabbed with both hands. She could hear the cries of Basil and Uncle Digby, along with Sophie and Poppy. Lady Clarissa was on her feet with her hands clenched, willing her little girl to the end.

  Mr Smee, the last runner for the teachers, was quickly gaining on her.

  ‘Come on, Clementine!’ Joshua shouted. ‘Don’t let Mr Smee catch up! You can do it – you’re the best!’ The boy was leaping up and down like a gazelle on a trampoline.

  Ana Hobbs was making good ground for the parents too.

  ‘Go, Mummy!’ Tilda shouted. ‘And Clemmie!’

  Clementine felt another sharp jab in her side and winced. It was getting harder to ignore, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on. She hit the finish line seconds before Mr Smee.

  The children on the hill went crazy, leaping up and down and cheering. Angus rushed over to Clementine.

  ‘That was awesome!’ he said, patting her on the back.

  Clementine was hunched over and gasping for breath. ‘I don’t feel so good,’ she said, and promptly threw up everywhere.

  ‘Move back, everyone. Let’s give Clemmie some space,’ Miss Critchley said, ushering the onlookers away.

  As soon as she noticed the huddle, Mrs Bottomley rushed over from the microphone. ‘Go on, it’s none of your worry,’ she said, waving her hand at the crowd of curious children. ‘Go back to your parents.’

  ‘That’s gross!’ Joshua Tribble pulled a face and gagged. ‘It’s everywhere.’

  Mrs Bottomley glared at the lad. His mother, who had followed him over, yanked at his shirt and hurried him from sight.

  ‘Are you all right, sweetheart?’ Miss Critchley asked Clementine. The woman pulled a wad of tissues from her pocket and wiped the girl’s mouth and chin.

  Beads of perspiration dripped down Clementine’s temples as she clutched at her side. ‘My tummy hurts,’ she whimpered. Tears sprang to her eyes and she fell to her knees.

  Lady Clarissa raced down from the hill, with Uncle Digby and Aunt Violet close behind. ‘Clemmie, I’m here darling,’ her mother said, putting an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

  ‘We need to get her to the doctor,’ Aunt Violet said, her voice full of concern.

  ‘I’ll call Dr Everingham,’ Miss Critchley offered, whipping out her phone. ‘He’s just around the corner.’

  Mrs Bottomley produced a packet of wet wipes from her pocket and handed them to Lady Clarissa, while Uncle Digby went to find some water and a blanket.

  ‘Is Clementine all right?’ Sophie asked her father. Everyone was watching with concern from their places on the hill.

  ‘Perhaps she has a bug,’ Pierre said. ‘You children are such good sharers – toys, colouring pencils, germs.’

  A few minutes later, Dr Everingham hurried onto the oval with his little black bag in hand. He nodded hello to everyone as he made his way to Clementine. ‘Now what’s happened here, Clemmie?’ he asked.

  He laid the child down on the blanket Uncle Digby had fetched and began to examine her. When he touched the lower-right side of Clementine’s belly, the child screamed.

  ‘Sorry, Clemmie, I just had to be sure,’ the doctor said.

  ‘Sure of what?’ Aunt Violet said in alarm. ‘What’s wrong with her?’

  Dr Everingham stood up and pulled out his phone. The conversation didn’t last more than a minute, after which he moved away to speak quietly with Lady Clarissa. Aunt Violet and Mrs Bottomley followed them while Uncle Digby stayed to hold Clementine’s hand.

  ‘I am fairly certain that Clemmie has appendicitis,’ the man said in a low voice. ‘I’ve just called for an ambulance and we’ll get her into surgery within the hour.’

  ‘Oh dear,’ Lady Clarissa said. She made an effort not to appear worried, conscious that Clementine was looking at her.

  ‘Surgery!’ Mrs Bottomley exhaled, shaking her head. ‘Poor little poppet.’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t say a word to Clementine at the moment. She’ll be fine, but we want to keep her as calm as possible,’ the doctor instructed. He turned to Lady Clarissa. ‘Has she eaten much today?’

  ‘No, she’s been off her food for the last few days,’ Lady Clarissa said with a sigh. ‘I thought it was just because she was worried about Lavender being sick.’

  ‘Of course! She had that pain in her tummy a few days ago.’ Aunt Violet sniffed. ‘I should have been watching her more carefully.’

  ‘These things can happen very quickly,’ Dr Everingham assured them. ‘Clemmie has probably had a sore tummy for a while but she must have been very determined to run today.’

  Her mother nodded. ‘Yes, she didn’t want to let the team down.’

  In the distance the wailing of a siren was getting louder and louder. Mr Pickles and Miss Critchley ran to open the gates onto the oval for the approaching ambulance.

  ‘Do I have to go to hospital, Uncle Digby?’ Clementine asked. She wiped her eyes and looked up at the old man.

  ‘Don’t worry, Clemmie. I’m sure that Dr Everingham has everything under control,’ Uncle Digby said, giving Clementine’s hand a squeeze.

  ‘But what about my party? Will I still be able to have my party?’ Clementine began to cry softly.

  ‘Let’s talk about that later, shall we?’ Uncle Digby smiled reassuringly.

  Dr Everingham appeared beside Uncle Digby and began to explain what was happening. ‘Clemmie, I am fairly certain that we’ll have to take your appendix out, and you’ll feel much better when we do,’ the man said. ‘Now, I’m going to come in the ambulance with you and your mother.’

  Clementine nodded, trying to be brave.
‘Will it hurt?’ she asked.

  The man shook his head. ‘You won’t feel a thing, and once that grumbly thing is gone, you’ll be back to your old self in no time.’

  On the hill, the children and parents watched as two paramedics placed Clementine on a stretcher and loaded her into the back of the ambulance. Lady Clarissa and Dr Everingham climbed in and the doors were shut. Minutes later, the ambulance sped towards the edge of town.

  ‘Hurry up, Pertwhistle, we have to follow them to the hospital,’ Aunt Violet declared.

  ‘All right, I’ll just collect our things,’ he said as he charged towards the hill.

  ‘Don’t worry about that, Uncle Digby,’ Ana Hobbs said. ‘We’ll take it and drop it off to you later.’

  ‘Thank you, dear,’ he said, patting the young woman’s arm.

  Ana smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘Don’t worry. Clemmie will be fine.’

  Not long afterwards, Lady Clarissa bent down and kissed Clementine’s forehead as she was wheeled towards the operating theatre.

  ‘I love you, darling,’ her mother said.

  ‘I love you too, Mummy,’ Clemmie replied hazily, and drifted off to sleep.

  Clementine’s eyes fluttered as she slowly began to wake up. Her body felt warm and dreamy, as though she’d just had the best sleep of her life.

  Her mother stood up and reached for the child’s hand. ‘Hello Clemmie.’

  ‘Where am I?’ Clementine croaked. She frowned and tried to open her eyes properly but they kept closing. She felt so tired.

  ‘You’re in the hospital and you’ve just had your appendix taken out,’ her mother explained, stroking Clementine’s hair.

  ‘Oh.’ Clementine opened her eyes, then closed them again. Within seconds she was fast asleep.

  ‘How is she?’ Uncle Digby asked as he walked into the room with two cups of tea.

  ‘I think she might be a little while waking up,’ Lady Clarissa said, gratefully taking a cup from him. ‘Thank you, Uncle Digby.’