Orville sat down, took off his slippers and eased out of his gown. He adjusted the pillows and rolled onto his side and within just a few seconds he was fast asleep.
Lady Clarissa finished drying the last saucepan. From somewhere high in the house, a bloodcurdling scream shook the windows. She leapt into the air, threw the saucepan onto the bench with a clatter and ran up the back stairs two at a time.
Clementine woke with a start. She sprang out of bed and ran along the corridor towards Uncle Digby’s room. There was an awful noise coming from inside. When she opened the door and flicked on the light, her eyes almost popped out of her head.
‘Aunt Violet, what’s going on?’ she gasped.
Lady Clarissa ran into the room behind her.
Violet Appleby was standing beside the bed, her face as white as a sheet and her hair standing on end as if she’d poked her finger into a power point. Her breathing was shallow and she looked as if she was trying to speak.
‘Mummy, there’s a man in Aunt Violet’s bed!’ Clementine exclaimed.
‘Get him out of here!’ Aunt Violet shrieked, prodding the intruder’s side with her forefinger. ‘Get him out of here NOW!’
But Orville Fox was sound asleep. Clearly the man could have slept through a cyclone, because he’d just met Hurricane Violet.
Clementine rubbed her eyes. For a moment she had forgotten where she was. She took a few seconds to remember that she was on a mattress at the foot of her mother’s four-poster bed.
She could hear the pitter-patter of raindrops against the window.
‘Mummy,’ Clementine called. But there was no reply. She sat up and saw that her mother’s bed was already made.
Clementine threw back the covers and shivered. Lavender and Pharaoh were curled up together in Lavender’s basket near the radiator.
She grabbed her dressing-gown, stuffed her feet into her woolly slippers and headed out along the corridor to the back stairs. As she passed by her own bedroom, the door opened and she was met by Uncle Orville.
He must have stayed put after his earlier adventure. Half the house had come running after Aunt Violet’s scream. In the end, Mr Fox and Dr Gunalingam had carried Uncle Orville back to Clementine’s room, much to the relief of Aunt Violet. She said that she was going to barricade the door.
The man squinted at Clemmie. ‘Hello dear.’
‘Good morning, Mr Fox,’ she said. ‘Did you have a good sleep?’
‘Yesh, yesh, but I had a terrible dream about a wild woman who was shcreaming like a witch . . .’
Clementine wondered why he was talking strangely.
‘Are you joining ush for the wedding today?’ he asked.
Clementine couldn’t believe that she’d almost forgotten about it. Of course, that’s why Mr Fox was dressed up. He might have been old and a little off kilter, but he was a very snappy dresser.
‘I like your suit,’ Clementine said, admiring the pinstripes and the lovely silk handkerchief that was poking out of his pocket. ‘But you might want to change your shoes.’
Mr Fox looked down at his slippered feet.
‘Oopsh.’ He turned and walked back into the room. ‘I wash a tailor you know.’
‘Really?’ Clementine was impressed. ‘Mrs Mogg makes all my clothes. I think she’s very clever. She can make just about anything . . . Although, I don’t know if she could make a suit.’ She followed him inside the room.
Clementine glanced at her bedside table and noticed what she first thought was a glass of water. Then she looked more closely.
‘Mr Fox, I think you’ve forgotten something else too,’ she said, pointing.
‘Oh, thank heavensh.’ Mr Fox shuffled over and reached into the glass. He popped his teeth into his mouth and gave Clementine a big smile.
Other children her age might have been frightened, but Clementine had seen plenty of false teeth at the house before. In fact, she even had a couple of sets that guests had left behind. She sometimes made up plays with the talking teeth, much to her mother’s and Uncle Digby’s horror.
‘You look very nice, Mr Fox,’ said Clementine, grinning back at him. ‘Even better with your teeth.’
Clementine said goodbye and raced down the back stairs to find her mother and Mrs Mogg busily preparing breakfast. Violet Appleby was dressed and sitting at the table sipping a cup of tea.
‘Oh, hello, sleepyhead.’ Her mother glanced at the clock on the wall. It was half past nine.
‘Half the day’s gone, Clementine,’ her great-aunt commented. ‘Why don’t you run along and get dressed. I presume you still want to see that wedding?’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Clementine.
The smell of bacon filled the room as Mrs Mogg opened the oven and retrieved a plate piled with crispy rashers. She trotted off to the dining room.
‘Would you like something to eat first, Clemmie?’ her mother asked.
The child nodded. Her stomach was making all sorts of funny gurgles.
‘What about an egg and some bacon on toast?’ her mother suggested.
‘Yes, please.’
Lady Clarissa turned to her aunt. ‘Aunt Violet, would you like to see Uncle Digby this morning? Then I’ll go later tonight.’
Clementine looked up expectantly. She’d hoped Uncle Digby would be home today.
‘No,’ Aunt Violet said tersely. ‘I’m far too tired. Some of us didn’t have a good night at all.’
‘But that’s not Mummy’s fault,’ said Clementine.
‘Of course it is,’ Aunt Violet snapped. ‘If she’d bothered to have locks installed on the bedroom doors, I’d never have been confronted by that ghastly man – who, by the way, was missing his teeth!’
Lady Clarissa changed the subject. ‘Well, Aunt Violet, do you think you could manage to give Mrs Mogg a hand this morning with some tidying up? The caterers will be here soon – thankfully everything is pre-prepared and they just have to use the ovens to heat things up.’
‘I’m exhausted, Clarissa,’ Violet snapped. ‘And you’ve employed half the village to help. Why do I have to get involved?’
Lady Clarissa stood firm. ‘Aunt Violet, with Uncle Digby in hospital we are still short-staffed.’
‘Well, it’s just like him to bunk off when we’re busy,’ Aunt Violet complained.
Clementine had been getting crosser by the second. ‘It’s your fault Uncle Digby’s not here!’
‘I beg your pardon, young lady?’ Aunt Violet turned sharply to look at the girl.
‘If you hadn’t made Uncle Digby go to the shop with me yesterday afternoon he’d still be all right. You made him sick!’ Clementine pushed the plate of bacon and eggs so hard that the bacon scattered all over the table.
‘How dare you?’ Aunt Violet’s lip trembled. ‘I did no such thing, Clementine.’ She stood up and strode towards the back stairs.
Clementine began to cry. She’d never felt so mixed up inside. One minute she was excited and the next minute she was worried about Uncle Digby or sad that she hadn’t been invited to Angus’s party. Clementine didn’t like it at all.
Lady Clarissa rushed over and wrapped her arms around Clementine, giving her a big hug.
‘I’m sorry, Mummy,’ the girl sniffed. ‘I didn’t mean to upset Aunt Violet.’
‘It’s all right, darling. I know we all want Uncle Digby home as soon as possible. But really, it’s not Aunt Violet’s fault that Uncle Digby is sick.’ Lady Clarissa kissed her daughter’s cheek. ‘Why don’t you finish your breakfast, then run along upstairs and get dressed. I’m sure that Mrs Mogg would love to see you in one of her pretty dresses. And then you can pop out into the garden with Lavender and watch everything from there.’
Mrs Mogg smiled at Clementine, who sniffled once more and then nodded back.
Clementine did exactly as her mother suggested. She put on one of her favourite dresses, a lovely red one with a matching coat. She added her shiny red boots and finished off the ensemble with a bow in her hair and a
scarf around her neck.
Clementine was on her way downstairs when a shriek filled the house. She ran down to the second floor, and was greeted on the landing by the bride’s mother. Mrs Fox was wrapped in a towel and dripping water all over the floor.
‘Tell your mother there’s no hot water,’ Roberta Fox shouted at Clementine. ‘How am I supposed to get ready for the biggest day in my life when I can’t even have a hot shower?’
Her husband Hector emerged, already dressed, from the bedroom.
‘That’s funny, dear. I thought it was the biggest day in our daughter’s life,’ he chided.
‘You know what I mean, Hector. Just go and find someone to fix it. NOW!’ she screeched.
Orville Fox was on his way downstairs when he ran into the group.
The old man winked at his niece-in-law. ‘I’m afraid you might have to put on more than that for the wedding.’
His nephew chortled loudly. ‘I was thinking just the same thing myself, Uncle Orville.’
‘Oh, stop being ridiculous, the pair of you!’ Roberta glared at her husband and his uncle, who scurried away downstairs.
Clementine was just about to suggest that Mrs Fox could use the bathroom upstairs instead, when Aunt Violet appeared.
She pushed past the woman and straight into the bathroom. Clementine dashed after her. She was surprised to see Aunt Violet giving the taps some rather violent attention, and then banging on the old boiler in the corner.
‘That’s done it,’ Aunt Violet announced as she ran the taps. Steam began to pour from the room.
Clementine stared at her great-aunt in amazement. ‘You fixed it!’
‘Of course I did.’ The old woman strode back into the hallway and Clementine followed.
Roberta Fox barged into the bathroom and slammed the door.
‘Don’t bother thanking me.’ Aunt Violet pursed her lips and hurried away down the corridor with Clementine close behind.
‘But how did you do that? Mummy says that Uncle Digby is the only one who can ever fix the hot water in there,’ Clementine said.
‘I lived here for a long time too, Clementine,’ Aunt Violet replied. ‘And that heater has been the same ever since I can remember.’
‘I thought Mrs Fox was going to burst, she was so cross.’ Clementine smothered a giggle as she remembered the woman’s expression.
‘Well, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?’ Violet kept her eyes straight ahead and walked towards the main stairs.
‘Aunt Violet?’ Clementine called.
‘What is it this time?’ The old woman turned and stared at Clementine. She couldn’t help thinking that the child looked rather sweet in her red ensemble.
‘I’m sorry about what I said before. Uncle Digby isn’t sick because of you.’
The woman coughed sharply and turned away. ‘Don’t be so sure of that,’ she mumbled, but Clementine didn’t hear her.
‘Do you want to go for a walk outside?’ Clementine asked.
‘I’ll come with you in a little while,’ Aunt Violet replied. ‘Mrs Mogg needs some help first.’
Clementine could hardly believe her ears. She wondered if something had happened to Aunt Violet. Clemmie glanced up at the portraits on the wall. Maybe her grandpa had had a word.
Clementine ran downstairs and threw open the front door. There were cars all over the driveway and Mr Smote was barking orders as tall floral arrangements were carried through the garden towards the marquee.
‘Hello Mr Smote,’ Clementine shouted.
‘Good morning, Clementine,’ he called back.
She thought his clothes looked even smarter than the day before. ‘That’s a lovely tie.’
‘Why, thank you, Miss Appleby,’ he said and dipped into a bow.
The clock in the hall chimed and Clementine counted off the strikes. She wondered where Harriet Fox was – it couldn’t be too much longer until the wedding. Her mother had said that it would start at midday and the clock had just chimed eleven times.
A white van pulled up and two men jumped out and began unloading a pile of enormous presents wrapped in silver paper with white bows.
‘Oh!’ Clementine gasped. ‘They’re so pretty.’
And that’s when the idea came to her. She should find Uncle Digby a present to cheer him up. Not just any old present; this one had to be perfect, so that he’d know how much she wanted him to get well and come home.
Clementine wondered what she could get him. She didn’t have very much money in her piggy bank. And the only shop close by was Mrs Mogg’s, and she didn’t really sell a lot of things Clemmie thought Uncle Digby would like.
Maybe she could ask her mother to take her to the village later on, once the wedding was underway. Clementine closed the door and turned around. At the top of the stairs she saw the most extraordinary sight.
‘You look like a princess,’ Clementine gasped, as she took in Harriet Fox’s beautiful gown. It was white and covered with silver sparkles. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a perfect bun and she was wearing a shiny tiara.
Harriet beamed. ‘Thank you, Clementine. I feel like a princess today. Have you seen the children?’
Clementine shook her head.
‘They’re in the wedding too. Arya and Alisha are my flower girls and Aksara is the pageboy,’ Harriet explained.
Clementine couldn’t wait to see them all. A moment later, Mrs Gunalingam appeared on the landing behind Harriet with the three children in tow. She was wearing a beautiful purple and red wraparound dress with thousands of tiny sparkles all over it. Right behind her, the two little girls wore the prettiest white dresses, which were tied at the waist with large purple bows. Their tiny brother wore a black suit with a sparkly purple bow tie.
‘You all look beautiful,’ Clementine gasped. She remembered her conversation with Mrs Mogg at the shop. ‘Is that a sari?’
‘That’s right, Clementine.’ The woman spun around to show off the whole garment.
‘It’s so pretty,’ Clemmie said.
A man carrying a huge camera skirted the group at the top of the stairs and walked halfway down. He pulled out the tripod legs and set up to take some photographs.
‘We’ll take some more shots inside the house before we head out into the garden,’ he instructed.
He arranged the children on the stairs in front of the bride. Clementine watched, spellbound. When they finally moved into the front sitting room for some seated pictures, Mrs Gunalingam whispered something to the photographer.
‘Yes, of course, ask her to join us.’
‘Clementine, would you like to have a picture with Harriet and the children?’ Mrs Gunalingam asked.
Clementine clapped her hands together. ‘Yes, please.’
The man showed the group to their positions and then snapped away. Clementine beamed for the camera.
Mr and Mrs Fox arrived downstairs with Uncle Orville. Clementine decided that she would go and find her mother, Aunt Violet and Mrs Mogg, and let them know that the wedding was about to start. They could watch from the garden.
Lavender was snuffling about Clemmie’s feet as she entered the kitchen. She clipped the little pig’s red lead onto her collar. She thought she’d better not risk upsetting the guests by allowing Lavender to wander around on her own.
Outside, a large group of people had gathered in the walled garden for the ceremony. Clementine admired all of the gorgeous outfits; there were women wearing sparkly saris like Mrs Gunalingam’s and others dressed in pretty gowns. The men looked handsome too. And Mr Smote was smiling as he watched on from the side. The rain had cleared and the sun was shining.
Clementine stood between her mother and great-aunt as Harriet Fox and her father walked down the makeshift aisle behind the three dark-haired children. A string quartet played and Clementine thought it was the most beautiful music she’d ever heard.
Everyone oohed and aahed as Aksara tried to scatter rose petals from a little basket. He soon grew tired of h
is job and tipped the basket upside down, dumping a pile of petals onto Uncle Orville’s foot. The guests roared with laughter.
During the ceremony, the bride and groom said a lot of words before exchanging rings. Then they kissed. Clementine closed her eyes. Kissing was yucky.
Afterwards, the guests moved into the marquee while the bride and groom posed for photographs with their family. Clementine loved watching the children climb up onto the lions outside the tent for a special picture.
‘Well, that’s that then.’ Mrs Mogg smiled at Clementine. ‘What did you think?’
‘It was beautiful. I can’t wait to be a bride. But I don’t want to have to kiss a boy.’ Clementine screwed up her face at the thought.
Aunt Violet raised her eyebrows. ‘I think that’s a long way off, young lady.’
‘I should think so.’ Her mother laughed and squeezed her hand.
‘I don’t know about you lot, but there’s a warm fire and a cup of tea inside,’ Mrs Mogg said. She turned to go.
‘That is an excellent plan,’ Aunt Violet nodded.
Clementine shivered. ‘Won’t they be cold out here in the tent?’
‘Oh no, I had a quick peek earlier. Would you believe they have heaters in there? At least if it rains it will be drier than inside the house,’ Mrs Mogg declared.
‘Perhaps you should leave the tent up, Clarissa, and we can all move in there,’ Aunt Violet suggested, raising her eyebrows playfully.
‘You might be right about that, Aunt Violet. We’ll have to move out when I can afford for the roof to be done.’
Clementine looked at her mother. ‘We won’t really have to live in a tent, will we, Mummy?’
‘No darling, I’m sure that we can find somewhere else just for a little while,’ her mother replied.
‘Perhaps you should all head off on a holiday,’ Mrs Mogg suggested.
‘Yes please.’ Clemmie clapped her hands together.
‘Maybe.’ Lady Clarissa slipped her hand into Clementine’s and together the group headed back inside to the snuggly warmth of the kitchen.
Mrs Mogg filled the kettle and Aunt Violet went to the sideboard to find some cups and saucers. Clementine wondered if there was something wrong with her – she was being so helpful.
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