Clementine Rose and the Famous Friend 7

by Jacqueline Harvey

  ‘Why don’t you think about the last word in each line because those are the ones that rhyme. That might help.’

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ Clementine enthused. She recited the lines to her grand father’s portrait. ‘Did you hear that Grandpa? I remembered. How do you know that poem?’ She turned to look back at Miss Richardson but the woman had gone. ‘Thank you, Miss Richardson,’ Clementine called, hoping that wherever she was she heard it.

  ‘Who are you talking to?’ Aunt Violet asked as she appeared on the landing above Clementine.

  ‘Miss Richardson just helped me remember my poem. Do you want to hear it?’

  ‘No, not especially,’ said Aunt Violet as she stomped past. Clementine sighed loudly and her great-aunt turned around. ‘It’s not that I don’t want to hear it, Clementine, it’s just that I thought I’d save it until the performance at school.’

  ‘Are you coming?’ Clementine was surprised to hear it.

  ‘I thought the invitation said that all members of the family were welcome,’ the old woman remarked.

  ‘It did,’ said Clementine. ‘But you don’t usually like coming to my school things and I thought you were mad at me because I’m not doing my project on you.’

  ‘All right then, fussy pants, I won’t come,’ Aunt Violet sniffed and strode across the foyer.

  ‘But Aunt Violet, I want you to,’ Clementine called after her.

  The woman stopped. She spun around and stared up at the blonde-haired child. ‘Do you mean that?’

  Clementine nodded. ‘Yes, of course I do.’

  ‘I’ll come then. But only because you begged me to.’ Aunt Violet turned once more, opened the front door and disappeared outside.

  Clementine was confused. ‘Was she always so tricky, Grandpa?’ She could have sworn she saw the old man nodding his head.

  On Friday morning, Clementine rolled over and jolted awake. ‘It’s today!’ She leapt out of bed and skipped across the hallway to the bathroom.

  ‘Good morning, Aunt Violet,’ she called to her great-aunt, who had just emerged from the Blue Room.

  The old woman’s hair looked like a bird’s nest and her eyes were bleary. ‘Godfathers, Clementine, keep your voice down. Some of us aren’t as enthusiastic about the mornings as others.’

  ‘You’d better get ready. We’re all going to school together, remember?’ Clementine said. She couldn’t wait for the special assembly at nine o’clock.

  ‘Yes, yes, that’s why I’m about to have a shower,’ Aunt Violet sighed and shuffled into the bathroom.

  Clementine’s uniform was hanging on the wardrobe door. But that’s not what she was wearing today. The children had to come to school in costume and Mr Smee said they could stay in their special clothes all day. Clementine thought that would upset Mrs Bottomley a lot.

  Pictures of Agnes Wells weren’t easy to find. Clementine and Uncle Digby had searched and searched and there were only black-and-white photographs of her when she was young. Clementine and Mr Smee had worked out that she’d be almost eighty by now. In one picture Miss Wells wore a pintucked blouse and a flared skirt, with the same little sparkly heart brooch Clementine had seen in all the other photographs. Clementine decided to wear her pink blouse with the pintucks and peter pan collar. She teamed it with a green skirt of her mother’s, which Mrs Mogg tucked and trimmed.

  In the attic she and her mother had found a pair of Granny’s old reading glasses and a pair of mid-heeled navy shoes. Uncle Digby punched the lenses out of the glasses and Clarissa helped Clementine stuff the shoes with paper so they’d fit. Best of all, her mother had found a brooch almost the same as the one in the pictures. It was a little bit bigger and had belonged to Clementine’s grandmother. She was only allowed to wear it because the sparkly stones weren’t real diamonds. She had a pile of Agnes Wells’s books to carry and a notepad and pen too.

  ‘Look at you!’ Lady Clarissa giggled when she saw Clementine standing in front of her bedroom mirror.

  ‘Hello Mummy, what do you think? Do I look like Miss Wells?’

  Lady Clarissa nodded. ‘Let’s just get your hair up and then you’ll be perfect, darling.’ She grabbed the brush from Clementine’s dressing table. A few minutes later she was done. ‘I’d better hop in the shower. Why don’t you go downstairs and have breakfast and then we can get going. Maybe it’s best if you wear your ballet flats and put those other shoes on later. We don’t want you taking a tumble on the stairs.’

  Clementine agreed and slipped the navy shoes off. She popped them into her schoolbag and stuffed her feet into her favourite red ballet flats.

  ‘I wish you could come with us, Lavender,’ she said to the little pig, who was sitting in her basket. ‘I’d love you to hear my poem.’

  Lavender grunted.

  As Clementine was on her way downstairs the doorbell rang. ‘I’ll get it!’ she called.

  Clementine opened the front door. A man in a blue postman’s uniform was holding an envelope. ‘Good morning, miss,’ he said.

  ‘Hello, may I help you?’ Clementine asked.

  ‘I have a letter for Miss Abigail Richardson,’ the man replied.

  Clementine smiled. ‘I can take it up to her.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He gave Clementine a strange look and handed over the envelope.

  ‘We’re doing a special assembly at school this morning,’ she said. ‘I’m dressed up as an author. Her name is Agnes Wells and she’s very old.’

  ‘Oh.’ The man rubbed his chin. ‘Well, that explains the outfit. You know, I think I read her books when I was a little boy. Enjoy your assembly.’

  Clementine nodded. ‘I will.’

  The man gave a wave as Clementine closed the front door and scurried upstairs.

  She skipped down the hallway to the Rose Room and knocked sharply on the door. ‘Excuse me, Miss Richardson.’

  ‘Yes,’ the woman called from within.

  Clementine pushed open the door and walked through. Miss Richardson was standing by the window and looking out into the garden.

  ‘I have a letter for you,’ Clementine announced.

  The old woman turned around. ‘Oh my.’ Miss Richardson looked Clementine up and down. ‘Don’t you look sweet.’

  ‘It’s for the assembly today. I’m Agnes Wells, remember?’ Clementine said as she handed over the envelope. Miss Richardson looked at it and hesitated, then slid her finger under the flap. She unfolded the page and gasped.

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘It seems …’ She hesitated. ‘I’ve won an award.’ Deep furrows creased her forehead.

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ Clementine said. ‘What’s it for?’

  ‘It’s a lifetime achievement award from the Society of Children’s Writers. But I didn’t think anyone cared for my work any more …’ The old woman’s voice trailed off and her eyes glistened with tears.

  ‘I thought you wrote history books,’ Clementine said.

  Miss Richardson wiped her eyes and nodded. ‘Yes, that’s why I came here, but I don’t seem to be making much progress with that. When I heard you reciting that poem I started something else.’

  ‘Ooh, what is it?’ Clementine asked.

  ‘Just a silly story about a cat and a pig,’ Miss Richardson replied.

  Clementine’s eyes widened. ‘We have a cat and a pig. Is it about Pharaoh and Lavender?’

  But Miss Richardson wasn’t listening. She was re-reading the letter, staring at the page.

  Clementine looked at the papers on the desk. She didn’t like to mind other people’s business because her mummy said that was wrong, but she couldn’t help noticing a book she loved sitting among the pages.

  ‘That’s a great story,’ she said, pointing. ‘Aunt Violet and I have been reading it at bedtime.’

  Miss Richardson still seemed far away. Clementine studied the woman. She was wearing a lemon-coloured blouse and a blue skirt. But it was something else that caught the child’s attention. ‘Oh! That’s
funny.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Miss Richardson asked, jolting back to the present.

  Clementine pointed at the brooch on the woman’s blouse. ‘Look, it’s just like mine.’ Suddenly her mouth gaped open.

  Miss Richardson smiled. ‘Fancy that.’

  Clementine looked at Miss Richardson and then at the book on the desk.

  ‘You don’t really write boring tractor history books at all, do you, Miss Richardson?’ Clementine asked.

  Miss Richardson shook her head.

  Clementine jigged about excitedly. ‘I think you write much more exciting things. Please, may I ask you something? It’s very important.’ Clementine could barely contain herself.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ the woman said.

  Clementine took a step closer and told Miss Agnes Wells her grand plan.

  Clementine’s stomach fluttered. The children in Year One were lined up across the stage, ready to give their presentations. There was a colourful mix of explorers and doctors, movie stars and singers. Tilda looked beautiful in a red tutu with her hair pulled back into a bun. Teddy was holding an old-fashioned movie camera and looked just like his father. He had round glasses perched on the tip of his nose and a beret on his head. Poppy was dressed up as Cleopatra, with a black wig, and Sophie wore a lab coat as she was the famous scientist Marie Curie.

  ‘What’s happened to alphabetical order?’ Mrs Bottomley tutted from where she was sitting at the end of her Kindergarten row. ‘I knew they’d be a disaster in no time.’

  Mr Smee walked onto the stage and stood behind the microphone.

  ‘Good morning, everyone,’ he said.

  ‘Go-ood mor-ning, Mr Sme-e,’ the children chorused back.

  ‘The students of Year One have really amazed me with their hard work and wonderful ideas. They’re going to tell you all about their famous friends, who they’ve dressed up as today. Without any further ado, I welcome Astrid.’

  Astrid walked to the microphone in the middle of the stage. She was dressed in a yellow ball gown with a tiara on her head, but she was carrying a riding whip and wearing boots.

  ‘Good morning, loyal subjects.’ She gave a funny wave and the audience giggled. ‘My name is Queen Georgiana and I’d like to tell you about my life …’

  At the end, she stepped to the side of the microphone and curtsied. The parents and children clapped loudly. Each child took their turn. Mr Smee stood close by in case he needed to help anyone with their reading. When Tilda spoke, she asked all of the children, teachers and parents to stand. She showed them how to practise first and second position, then twirl around. The audience thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

  Clementine was last of all. She took a deep breath and looked out into the audience until she found where Aunt Violet, Uncle Digby and her mother were sitting.

  ‘I’d like to tell you about my famous friend. She writes books and poems for children. She’s written more than one hundred of them and children love them because they’re funny and adventurous and they make you feel as if you could jump right in and be part of the action.

  ‘My famous friend was born during the war, so she’s old now. She never got married and she doesn’t have any children but in a way her books are like her children. And the last thing is that her real name is different to her writer name. I’m going to read you my favourite poem that she wrote.’

  Clementine took a deep breath. ‘“Bitten by the Bug”, by Agnes Wells …’

  At the end of the recital, the parents and children clapped wildly. Clementine stood in the middle of the stage and took a bow. Then another.

  She waited until the clapping had stopped and then looked to the left of the stage. Mr Smee nodded and stepped in front of the microphone.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I think Clementine has a surprise for us,’ he said.

  ‘Is it chocolate?’ a Kindergarten lad called. Ethel Bottomley gave the boy one of her most evil stares.

  ‘Is it a monkey?’ another boy with wild black curls yelled.

  The assembly hall erupted with laughter.

  ‘That’s stupid!’ a girl in Kindergarten said.

  ‘You’re stu–’ the monkey boy began to shout.

  ‘Children, stop it now,’ Ethel Bottomley hissed through her teeth.

  Aunt Violet shook her head. ‘Poor Ethel. Fancy having to put up with that nonsense every day.’

  ‘All right, everyone, settle down,’ said Mr Smee. ‘What did you want to say, Clementine?’

  Clementine stood up straight and loudly announced, ‘I’d like you to meet someone.’

  Miss Richardson walked across the stage and stood beside the girl.

  ‘What’s she doing up there?’ Aunt Violet tutted. ‘I did wonder why Clementine asked her to come.’

  Uncle Digby and Lady Clarissa smiled at one another. Clementine had told them what was going on at home while they were waiting for Aunt Violet to finish getting ready.

  ‘This is Miss Agnes Wells,’ said Clementine. ‘My famous friend.’

  ‘I love her!’ Joshua called from the stage.

  A murmur of ‘me too … she’s cool … awesome …’ raced around the room.

  Miss Wells’s cheeks blushed fiery red.

  The parents at the back of the room stood up and clapped loudly.

  ‘Thanks for all those great stories,’ one of the fathers called out.

  ‘Hear, hear!’ Mrs Bottomley echoed.

  Mr Smee looked out and was stunned to see the Kindergarten teacher on her feet and clapping louder than everyone else. He smiled at her and Mrs Bottomley gave him the smallest hint of a nod. Mr Smee couldn’t believe it.

  ‘See, Miss Wells?’ Clementine reached out to hold the woman’s hand. ‘It’s not true what Mrs Morley said. Everyone loves you.’

  Miss Richardson beamed at the audience. ‘Thank you, Clementine,’ she whispered. ‘Thank you.’

  Bitten by the Bug

  One morning snuggled in my bed

  A little bug appeared and said,

  ‘I see that you have learned a lot

  Since you were just a tiny tot.

  You crawled, then walked and now you run

  It’s time for you to have more fun.

  I have so many friends to share:

  Three bears and a girl with curly hair;

  A crazy fellow called McGee,

  Who has a fight with biting fleas;

  There’s Charlie making sweets galore;

  Wild things on boats and so much more.

  ‘Hurry up and take a look

  Inside this lovely picture book.

  You can travel far and wide,

  If you pretend it’s you inside.

  I know it really is bizarre,

  How at your age you can drive a car,

  Or fight a monster, or save a life,

  You can get yourself in lots of strife.

  And just as quick, you save the day

  And make the bad things go away.

  There are tales about most anything

  To make you laugh and cry and sing.’

  I told the bug that I’m too small

  I won’t read books until I’m tall

  He shook his head and frowned at me.

  ‘That’s just not true – you wait and see.

  We’ll learn together from today

  And next thing you’ll be on your way.’

  I told the bug I’d try my best

  In this love-of-reading quest.

  I opened up a storybook

  And crawled inside to take a look.

  Suddenly I was right there,

  Creeping down the little stairs.

  There was a wolf outside the door,

  He opened up his mouth to roar.

  I scrambled up the chimney stack

  Jumped off the roof and out the back,

  Racing through a forest tall,

  Such an adventure for one so small

  The little bug climbed off my bed,
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  And with a smile he softly said,

  ‘I think my job here is now done,

  I’ve opened up a world of fun.

  I’m sure that it has been quite painless,

  To ignore me would be simply brainless.

  You’re hooked and now I’m on my way

  To find another kid who’ll play.

  You’ve been bitten, that’s for sure,

  The book bug will be back for more.

  Just remember what I said

  There is so much yet to be read.’

  The clever bug went on his way

  And now I’m reading every day

  He’s right, you know, I’m on the hook

  There’s nothing better than a book!

  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

  Pierre Rousseau

  Owner of Pierre’s Patisserie in Highton Mill

  Basil Hobbs

  Documentary filmmaker and neighbour

  Ana Hobbs (nee Barkov)

  Former prima ballerina and neighbour

  School staff and students

  Miss Arabella Critchley

  Head teacher

  Mrs Ethel Bottomley

  Teacher at Ellery Prep

  Mr Roderick Smee

  New Year One teacher

  Angus Archibald

  Friend in Clementine’s class