Clementine Rose and the Treasure Box 6 Page 6

  ‘Now run along, Clementine, and don’t touch any of my ropes,’ Aunt Violet directed.

  The kitchen was buzzing. People were coming in and out of the back door, bringing all sorts of delicious treats, and Mrs Tribble was now directing her husband and Mr Mogg as they moved the last of the boxes from the Penberthy House attic.

  Mrs Mogg turned from where she was arranging chocolate brownies on a plate. ‘Good morning, Clementine. Don’t you look lovely.’

  ‘I can’t wait for the fete.’ Clementine shivered with excitement.

  She poured herself some cereal, and Mrs Mogg offered to help with the milk. Usually Clementine liked to do things herself but this morning she didn’t want to spill anything on the table or her dress.

  Aunt Violet stormed into the kitchen. Her face was red and Clementine could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. ‘Who took the rope from the bottom of the staircase?’

  Lady Clarissa came down the back stairs at that moment. ‘I did, Aunt Violet. You’ve got hours until the tours begin and I needed to bring some more things downstairs for the jumble sale.’

  ‘What do you call those?’ Aunt Violet pointed at the back stairs.

  ‘Aunt Violet, I was trying to take the shortest route to the front garden. Those boxes are heavy, you know.’

  ‘Don’t get snippy with me, Clarissa. I’ve got a lot to do. If you want these tours to work, I simply can’t have people traipsing all through the house. There … there are rules!’ She turned on her heel and strode from the room.

  ‘Her rules,’ Uncle Digby muttered.

  Clementine finished her breakfast and raced upstairs to get Lavender ready. She was going to wear her best sparkly red collar with the matching lead.

  By nine o’clock the stalls were set up, Mrs Mogg’s cafe was ready and Aunt Violet had finished roping off the house. As far as Clementine could tell, guests would be allowed in the sitting room, dining room, conservatory and library. Everywhere else was off limits.

  Clementine recognised lots of things on Mrs Tribble’s bric-a-brac tables but there was loads more that other people in the village had donated too.

  Basil and Ana arrived with the children in tow. Clementine and Lavender raced out to greet them.

  ‘Hello,’ Clementine said. ‘Lavender’s all ready for the photos.’

  Basil grinned. ‘And might I say she looks especially gorgeous today.’

  ‘I’d better get going and help Mrs Tribble,’ Ana said.

  ‘Have you found Flash?’ Clementine asked.

  Tilda shook her head. ‘I don’t think he’s ever coming back.’

  ‘He might have walked home to our old house,’ Araminta said. ‘I’ve heard stories of cats and dogs who do that.’

  ‘Then he’ll be there in about ten years’ time,’ Teddy said. ‘He’s not exactly fast, is he?’

  ‘Stop saying that,’ Tilda said sulkily. ‘You don’t care about him.’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Teddy said. ‘He’s my tortoise too.’

  ‘But you don’t look after him as much as I do.’ Tilda’s eyes glistened.

  ‘Sorry, Tilda.’ Teddy put his arm around his twin sister. ‘I’m sure he’ll come home.’ Teddy wasn’t sure at all, but at least if Flash had escaped outside he had a nice place to live by the creek with plenty of things to eat.

  ‘Why don’t you go and get your booth ready?’ Basil suggested. ‘Have you got the money tin and some change sorted?’

  Soon the crowds began to pour into the garden. Aunt Violet insisted that she wasn’t taking any tours until ten o’clock but by nine-thirty there was a line of people waiting to go in. Mrs Bottomley had come along to help her, so after quite a bit of discussion Aunt Violet decided to open early. She had thought about upping the price for the inconvenience but Mrs Bottomley talked her out of it.

  Clementine and her friends were doing great business in their photo booth.

  Lavender was behaving perfectly, sitting beside the eager children and adults while Basil snapped away. Tilda and Teddy were taking people’s names and telling them what time they could come and collect their pictures, while Araminta was in charge of the money. Clementine made sure that Lavender was feeling all right and not too tired.

  By early afternoon the children were starving and Basil said that they should shut up shop for a while and take a break. ‘Besides,’ he said, ‘Lavender has been smiling so much her face must be sore.’

  ‘Lavender can’t smile,’ Clementine said with a giggle.

  Basil winked. ‘I don’t know, Clementine. I think she can.’

  There was a jumping castle that the children had their eyes on and a lucky dip stall that they wanted to visit.

  Aunt Violet decided that she and Mrs Bottomley were due for a break too. Mrs Bottomley was keen to have a quick look at the stalls before the best things were gone.

  The crowds had thinned out a bit since the morning rush but Lady Clarissa couldn’t believe how much they had already raised.

  ‘What a wonderful day, Clarissa,’ Father Bob said as he walked into the kitchen to hand over another tin of money from his flower stall. ‘I think we’ll have that new hall built sooner than we thought.’

  Clarissa smiled. She certainly hoped so.

  Clementine and her friends wandered into Mrs Mogg’s cafe.

  ‘Hello there, my lovelies. What can I get you?’ the woman called.

  ‘May I please have a vanilla milkshake and a chocolate brownie?’ Clementine asked. ‘And a bowl of water for Lavender, please.’

  The other children all ordered chocolate milkshakes and a variety of cupcakes.

  Clementine reached into her pocket and handed over a crisp note. ‘It’s my pocket money,’ she said proudly.

  Araminta paid for herself and the twins and the children sat down. Clementine got the water bowl for Lavender and Mrs Mogg gave the little pig an extra brownie. She said it had fallen on the ground earlier and she was saving it especially for her.

  Aunt Violet and Mrs Bottomley walked into the tent.

  ‘Hello Aunt Violet. How are your tours going?’ Clementine asked.

  ‘Perfectly well, apart from that little monster Joshua Tribble. I found him in my bedroom teasing Pharaoh,’ her great-aunt replied. ‘But Mrs Bottomley dealt with him. I don’t think he’ll be trespassing anywhere ever again.’

  Mrs Bottomley smiled, revealing a row of yellowed teeth. Clementine wondered what she’d done to him. She didn’t like to think. Maybe she’d find Joshua in a cupboard later.

  ‘Who’s that?’ Tilda whispered as the two women sat down at a nearby table.

  ‘That’s Mrs Bottomley. She was my teacher and now she’s friends with Aunt Violet,’ Clementine whispered back. ‘I hope she’s not our teacher this year.’

  ‘I heard that, Clementine,’ Mrs Bottomley snapped. ‘And you’ll be pleased to know that I have no intention of taking that class of yours ever again.’

  Clementine’s eyes widened. ‘Yes!’ she mouthed.

  ‘Heard that too!’ the woman barked.

  The children giggled. They finished their treats and decided to take a wander around the stalls. Teddy suggested they go straight to the jumping castle but Araminta, sensible as always, said that they should probably let their afternoon tea go down for a while. She remembered when her brother and sister had ridden a merry-go-round at a fair right after lunch. The results hadn’t been pretty.

  Teddy and Tilda remembered too and decided to take their big sister’s advice.

  As well as Mrs Tribble’s bric-a-brac and Father Bob’s flowers, there was a man selling homemade cheese (which Clementine decided smelt like old socks), another lady had handcrafted baby clothes, and there was a pointy-looking fellow selling paintings. Mr Mogg had a wonderful vegetable stall with home-grown produce, too.

  Clementine and her friends were hoping that there was something they could spend their pocket money on. ‘What about the lucky dip?’ Clementine suggested.

  Over in Mrs Mogg’s
tent, Mrs Bottomley and Aunt Violet finished their tea and decided to take a walk too.

  ‘What a lot of old tat,’ Aunt Violet sneered at the cracked plates and chipped vases on Mrs Tribble’s stall.

  Ethel Bottomley had been admiring a very pretty teapot with a small chip on the rim but put it back down when she heard Aunt Violet’s comment. She wandered further along and came to a lovely timber box.

  ‘Oh, this is sweet. I could use that in the classroom for something.’ She picked it up and examined the silky timber. ‘How much is this one?’

  Mrs Tribble looked at the box. She’d sold another smaller one earlier but couldn’t remember the price.

  ‘If you give me a moment I’ll check.’ She ran her finger down the list she’d been keeping of the sales.

  Aunt Violet walked up beside Mrs Bottomley. She shook her head. ‘Goodness, Ethel, what do you want that old rubbish for?’

  ‘I thought it could come in handy for something. It’s pretty, or at least it was once. There are always little bits and pieces – you know, blocks and the like – that I need containers for at school.’

  Aunt Violet looked at the box more closely. Suddenly her memory flashed. She gasped.

  ‘No, Ethel, you can’t have it,’ Aunt Violet said, reaching out to snatch it from her.

  Mrs Bottomley clutched the box to her ample chest. ‘What are you doing, Violet? I want it and I’ll have it.’

  ‘No! You can’t. It’s not right for you. It won’t go with the classroom decor!’ Aunt Violet grabbed at the box.

  By now the two women were attracting quite a bit of attention. Clementine looked up from where she was standing further along the row of trestle tables.

  ‘What’s Aunt Violet doing?’ she asked, wrinkling her nose. ‘Come on.’ She motioned for her friends to follow.

  Lady Clarissa walked out the front door and was horrified to see her aunt and Mrs Bottomley having an almighty tug of war. She raced over and stood in front of them.

  ‘What are you two doing?’

  ‘She can’t have this,’ gasped Aunt Violet. She was pulling as hard as she could. Mrs Bottomley was gripping the item with all her might.

  ‘It’s just an old music box from the attic, Aunt Violet. It’s broken. If Mrs Bottomley wants it then she should have it,’ Lady Clarissa called. She couldn’t believe her eyes and neither could anyone else.

  ‘It’s not just an old box. It’s my box,’ Aunt Violet snapped. ‘You should have asked me if you could sell it.’

  Clementine, Tilda, Teddy and Araminta were standing beside Lady Clarissa, watching the two old women wrestling.

  Basil and Ana were there too. Basil raised his camera to his face but Ana put out her hand.

  ‘No, Basil, you can’t take a photograph. They’d never forgive you.’ Ana tried to stifle the grin that was tickling her lips.

  ‘Give it to me, Ethel!’

  ‘NO! I’m having it!’ Mrs Bottomley shouted.

  Joshua Tribble had heard the ruckus and come to investigate too. He roared with laughter at the two old women fighting.

  ‘It’s mine!’ Aunt Violet bellowed and gave one last heave. Mrs Bottomley let go of the box and Aunt Violet went flying backwards, tumbling over Joshua Tribble.

  ‘Cool, I didn’t know old ladies could do somersaults,’ said the boy. He crashed to the ground just as the box went soaring into the air.

  ‘Noooooo!’ Aunt Violet landed with a thud on her bottom.

  The box fell to the ground and the lid sprang open.

  There was a collective gasp from the crowd.

  ‘Flash!’ Tilda raced forward and looked into the box. She lifted the tortoise out.

  ‘Is he all right?’ Clementine asked, trying to see if his shell was still in one piece.

  The little tortoise poked his head out and looked at the crowd.

  ‘Oh, Tilda, that’s wonderful. But how on earth did he get in there?’ Ana said with a frown.

  ‘The moving boxes,’ Basil said. ‘He must have been in one of the boxes I brought over for the attic. Poor old Flash will be starving.’

  Aunt Violet was lying on the ground moaning softly.

  ‘Are you all right, Aunt Violet?’ Clementine looked down at her great-aunt, who opened her eyes and sat upright.

  ‘No, of course I’m not all right. Ridiculous nonsense,’ she spluttered.

  Uncle Digby held out his hand to help her up.

  Lady Clarissa eyeballed the woman. ‘Aunt Violet, you couldn’t possibly have known that Tilda’s tortoise was in that box. So why did you want it?’

  Clementine knelt down on the grass and looked inside the box. She noticed a lump in the lining at the bottom. ‘Mummy, there’s something in here.’

  ‘Aunt Violet?’ Lady Clarissa asked sharply. ‘Are you going to tell me what it is?’

  ‘If my memory serves me correctly, Clarissa, I think you’ll find the missing Appleby necklace,’ Aunt Violet said with a sniff.

  There was another gasp from the crowd.

  ‘Why didn’t you just say so, Violet?’ Mrs Bottomley pursed her lips. ‘I would have given it back to you.’

  ‘Because I suspect someone would have liked to keep that a secret, wouldn’t they?’ said Uncle Digby.

  Clementine pulled back the lining of the box.

  ‘Mummy, look! It’s Granny’s necklace from the painting.’ Clementine held up the dazzling jewellery. It glinted in the sunshine.

  ‘Oh, it’s lovely.’ Lady Clarissa took the long strand of diamonds and pearls from the girl. ‘It’s even more beautiful in real life.’

  ‘It’s mine, Clarissa,’ Aunt Violet whispered.

  Lady Clarissa shook her head.

  ‘Aunt Violet, this was my mother’s and before that it was Granny Appleby’s and now it belongs to me. I’ve made a decision about the necklace and the matching earrings and tiara,’ Lady Clarissa said. The rest of the set had been found some months beforehand and now resided in the safe in the library.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ Aunt Violet demanded.

  ‘These jewels are so beautiful they should be in a museum. I’m never going to wear them and I doubt Clementine will either. But if we sell them, we’ll have more than enough money to rebuild the hall and perhaps there’ll be some left over to make the repairs on the house,’ Lady Clarissa said firmly.

  ‘No! You can’t!’ Aunt Violet’s lip trembled.

  ‘Aunt Violet, please try to think of someone other than yourself. Besides, I thought a new bathroom might be of some interest.’

  The old woman sighed.

  ‘Are you sure, Clarissa?’ Mrs Mogg asked. ‘You don’t have to do that.’

  ‘I know I don’t. But what would I rather? That we have a priceless collection of unwearable jewels or that Clementine and her friends get to have ballet lessons and you have your quilting group, Maraget, and Father Bob has the flower show.’

  ‘Clarissa, you’re a marvel, my dear,’ Father Bob declared.

  ‘Don’t thank me. Thank Clementine. It was her idea to clean out the attic. We might never have found the necklace otherwise.’

  Clementine smiled. ‘Will I get to wear a red tutu?’

  Mrs Mogg smiled down at her. ‘I’ll start right away.’

  Clementine looked at Tilda and Teddy and Araminta. Flash was nibbling on a piece of lettuce someone had found on the vegetable stall.

  The four children grinned at one another.

  ‘It wasn’t just an old box after all, was it Mummy?’

  ‘No, Clemmie.’ Her mother shook her head. ‘It was a box full of treasure.’

  The Appleby household

  Clementine Rose Appleby

  Five-year-old daughter of Lady Clarissa

  Lavender

  Clemmie’s teacup pig

  Lady Clarissa Appleby

  Clementine’s mother and the owner of Penberthy House

  Digby Pertwhistle

  Butler at Penberthy House

  Aunt Violet Appleby />
  Clementine’s grandfather’s sister

  Pharaoh

  Aunt Violet’s beloved sphynx cat

  Friends and village folk

  Margaret Mogg

  Owner of the Penberthy Floss village shop

  Father Bob

  Village minister

  Pierre Rousseau

  Owner of Pierre’s Patisserie in Highton Mill

  Mrs Ethel Bottomley

  Teacher at Ellery Prep

  Mrs Tribble

  Villager and mother of Joshua

  Joshua Tribble

  Boy in Clementine’s class at school

  Basil Hobbs

  Documentary filmmaker and new neighbour

  Ana Hobbs

  Former prima ballerina and new neighbour

  Araminta Hobbs

  Ten-year-old daughter of Basil and Ana

  Teddy Hobbs

  Five-year-old twin son of Basil and Ana

  Tilda Hobbs

  Five-year-old twin daughter of Basil and Ana

  Flash

  Tilda and Teddy’s pet tortoise

  Jacqueline Harvey taught for many years in girls’ boarding schools. She is the author of the bestselling Alice-Miranda series and the Clementine Rose series, and was awarded Honour Book in the 2006 Australian CBC Awards for her picture book The Sound of the Sea. She now writes full-time and is working on more Alice-Miranda and Clementine Rose adventures.

  www.jacquelineharvey.com.au

  Books by Jacqueline Harvey