Clementine’s eyes lit up. ‘The ballet!’
‘Oh, is that all?’ Aunt Violet barely disguised the disappointment in her voice.
‘Mummy, please may I go?’ Clementine begged.
‘Yes, of course, darling,’ Lady Clarissa replied. ‘The question is, who would you like to take with you?’
‘But I want everyone to come,’ the child said.
‘Sorry, Clemmie, I only have two tickets and I really can’t afford to buy any at the moment,’ her mother explained.
Clementine looked at Uncle Digby, who was standing at the bench buttering some toast, then at her mother and Aunt Violet, who were sitting at the table.
‘I don’t think Uncle Digby would like the ballet that much, and if he falls asleep he might snore and ruin the show,’ she reasoned. ‘And, Mummy, you’ll probably have guests to look after. So I think I’d like to take … Aunt Violet.’
The old woman frowned at the child. ‘Really? You want me to go with you?’
Clementine nodded. ‘You said you love ballet, and you were the only one who knew that Ana was a famous ballerina.’
‘Oh, Clementine.’ Aunt Violet could feel a lump in the back of her throat. ‘Are you sure, Clarissa?’
Lady Clarissa nodded. ‘Of course. The tickets are for Saturday week.’
‘Godfathers, what will I wear?’ Aunt Violet leapt out of her chair and made a beeline for the back stairs. On the way, she snatched a tissue from the sideboard and brushed the side of her face.
‘Why is Aunt Violet crying, Mummy?’ Clementine asked.
‘I think she’s happy, Clementine.’ Lady Clarissa smiled. ‘Very happy.’
Clementine frowned. ‘Grown-ups are so confusing.’
Clemmie looked at the clock on the classroom wall. She’d been learning to tell the time and knew that when the little hand was on the three and the big hand was on the twelve, it was time to go home. She must have checked it at least fifty times already, but the minutes seemed to be ticking by slower than ever.
At least it was now after lunch, and the class was busy drawing African animals to add to the giant scene that their teacher, Mr Smee, had painted on the back wall.
‘What have you got there, Clementine?’ he asked.
‘It’s a lion,’ Clementine replied.
Her teacher frowned. ‘Are you sure?’
Clementine looked down and realised that her lion had very big ears and a trunk as well as a mane. ‘Oops,’ she said, her ears turning pink. ‘That’s silly.’
‘Never mind, you can get another sheet of paper and start again if you like,’ Mr Smee said. ‘What’s got you so distracted today?’
‘Ballet,’ Clementine confessed. ‘It’s our first lesson this afternoon. Tilda, Teddy, Poppy, Sophie and me are all going.’
‘I remember going to my first soccer practice when I was your age,’ Mr Smee said with a grin. ‘I couldn’t concentrate on anything all day.’
Clementine smiled at her teacher. ‘You know a lot about kids, Mr Smee,’ she said.
‘Thanks, Clemmie. And, don’t worry, there’s only another half an hour until home time.’ Mr Smee winked at her as he walked off to see what the children at the next table had drawn.
Clementine turned to Tilda. ‘Are you excited about this afternoon?’
The child nodded. ‘I’m happy that Mummy can start the ballet school. Daddy said he was going to have to send her back to work if she didn’t get started soon. He says that she can’t sit still.’
‘You’re lucky to have a mum who’s a ballerina,’ Clementine said.
Tilda smiled. ‘And you’re lucky to have a mum who can cook.’
Joshua Tribble overheard the girls talking. ‘Ballet’s stupid.’
Clementine glared at him. ‘No, it’s not!’
‘It’s just for sissy girls,’ Joshua teased.
‘That’s not true,’ Tilda said. ‘Teddy does ballet and he’s really good, and Mummy said that there are other boys enrolled in the classes too.’
‘Is Teddy going to wear tights and flap around like a fairy?’ Joshua mocked, fluttering his arms as if they were wings.
Teddy glanced up from where he was sitting on the other side of the cluster of tables. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Ballet dancers are really strong and sometimes they have to lift the ballerinas up with one hand.’
Joshua laughed nastily. ‘Boys who do ballet aren’t allowed to play soccer.’
‘Since when?’ Clementine narrowed her eyes at him. ‘If you don’t stop being mean, Joshua, I’m telling Mr Smee.’
‘I don’t care. He thinks boys who do ballet are stupid too.’ Joshua wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue.
Roderick Smee looked across from the far side of the room and wondered what Clementine had done to deserve being on the receiving end of Joshua’s lizard-like tongue.
‘Hey, Josh, what’s that for?’ he called out.
‘Joshua said that boys who do ballet are fairies,’ Clementine said.
‘I didn’t say they are fairies. I said that they flap around like fairies. Don’t they, Angus?’ Joshua looked to his friend for support, but Angus’s cheeks flushed pink and the boy buried his head in his work.
‘Joshua Tribble, come here,’ said Mr Smee. ‘Now!’
Joshua stood up and skulked over to the corner, where the children could hear Mr Smee telling him that he wasn’t going to put up with that sort of nonsense at all.
A couple of minutes later Mr Smee walked to the centre of the classroom. ‘Right, everyone, it’s time to pack up.’
Joshua walked back to his table and pulled a face at Clementine, but she wasn’t worried. Mr Smee might not have eyes in the back of his head the way Mrs Bottomley did, but his radar for ‘Tribble trouble’ was pretty good.
The children put their home readers into their bags and gathered up the rest of their belongings before Mr Smee said good afternoon. The class chorused the same farewell back to him, fidgeting as they stood behind their desks.
‘Off you go, everyone,’ Mr Smee instructed. ‘Enjoy your ballet class, Clementine,’ he called as she hurried for the door behind Tilda and Teddy and Sophie and Poppy.
‘Thanks, Mr Smee,’ Clementine turned and grinned at her teacher. ‘I can’t wait!’
News of Ana’s ballet school had spread through the district like wildfire. Her toddler class was bursting at the seams, and the group for five-to-seven-year-olds was almost full as well. It was starting to look as if she might need to hold extra classes on other days. The trouble was that the hall was fast booking up for all sorts of activities.
‘Hello everyone,’ Ana greeted her eager students. ‘My name is Ana Hobbs and I’d like to welcome you all to our very first class. Now, if the girls would like to get changed backstage, the boys can get ready in the little room off the kitchen.’
Lady Clarissa and some of the other mothers helped the girls into their tutus and ballet shoes while Ana went to check on the boys. That didn’t take long as there were only three lads, and their outfits of black tracksuit pants and white polo shirts weren’t nearly as difficult to get into.
Clementine changed quickly and scampered back out into the hall, where Ana was fiddling with the stereo. She glanced up and smiled. ‘Don’t you look gorgeous, Clemmie. Have you been looking forward to this?’
Clementine nodded. ‘Did you know Mummy won two tickets to see Swan Lake at the opera house and Aunt Violet is taking me on Saturday?’ Clementine jigged about excitedly. ‘So I get to do ballet and see ballet too.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ Ana said. ‘I have lots of friends dancing in that production. Keep an eye out for the baddie in black, Von Rothbart. The man playing him is called Sean, and he, his wife and their boys are coming to visit in a few weeks’ time. We can’t fit them all in our house, so they’ll be staying at your hotel.’
‘How old are the boys?’ Clementine asked. She loved it when children came to stay.
‘Dash is eleven and Max is seven,�
�� Ana replied. ‘They’re bags of fun. Mintie and the twins adore them.’ Clementine had given Ana an idea. She wouldn’t say anything just yet but she’d make a call when she got home. She glanced around at the children. ‘Well, it looks like everyone’s ready. Shall we make a start? Boys, would you like to join us?’
The three lads had been charging about at the far end of the hall, kicking a scrunched-up ball of paper. Reluctantly, they ended their game and gathered at the back of the group.
Six little girls in matching red tutus, beige ballet shoes and with their hair pulled back into buns, awaited their first instructions. Clementine knew Poppy, Tilda and Sophie, and she recognised the other two girls who were in Kindergarten at her school, though she wasn’t sure of their names.
‘Hello Angus.’ Clementine waved at the boy who was standing behind her. He gave a half-wave back. ‘I didn’t know you were doing ballet.’
‘Mum made me.’ He lowered his eyes. ‘Don’t tell anyone at school, okay?’
‘Okay.’ Clementine frowned. ‘Are you worried because of what Joshua said?’
‘No,’ Angus replied with a shake of his head. ‘It’s just no one else’s business. And tell them not to say anything, either.’ Angus pointed at the other children from their class.
The parents had all disappeared. When the children were enrolled, Ana had made it very clear that she preferred to teach without an audience and she believed it was better for the students too. Lady Clarissa and Odette Rousseau, Sophie’s mother, took the opportunity to walk over to Penberthy House for a cup of tea.
Ana pressed a button on the stereo and a pop song blared from its speakers. ‘Now, children, the first thing we’re going to do is warm up.’
She put her hands on her hips and jumped up and down on the spot. The children all did the same. Ana counted the beats out loud for them all to keep time. When she skipped in a circle, the children copied her perfectly. Ana then turned off the music and asked the children to form two lines in front of her.
‘One of the most important things you need to learn in ballet is how to stand,’ Ana said. She put her heels together and turned out her toes, creating a straight line with her feet. ‘I don’t expect you will be able to get your feet out this far on your first try, but let’s see how everyone goes.’
Clementine turned out her left foot and then her right. She wobbled for a moment, then stiffened her legs and stood as still as she could.
‘That’s fabulous, Clementine!’ Ana smiled, and the girl grinned back.
Poppy couldn’t turn out her feet quite as far, but Ana praised her efforts too. Tilda, who’d been having lessons for a while, was amazing.
‘Well done, Angus,’ Ana commended the boy. ‘You’re a natural.’
The lad’s cheeks lit up and he looked down at the floor. The other little boy, Gareth, was in Kindergarten at Clementine’s school. He twirled around and sat on the floor and didn’t even try to do anything Ana said.
The children, except for Gareth, held their places. Ana walked back to the front and put her hands down in a soft semicircle.
‘Can everyone do this with their arms?’ she asked. ‘Imagine you’re hugging a giant ball, then turn out your feet. We call this first position. Now I want you all to relax. When I say “first position”, let’s see who can do it again.’
Tilda looked like an expert while the other children wobbled and swayed into position. Clementine tried to imagine she was holding the beach ball she and Freddy played with on holidays earlier in the year.
Ana turned on the stereo, but this time it was soft music played by an orchestra that filled the room. ‘This music is from a very famous ballet called Swan Lake,’ she told the class.
Clementine grinned.
Ana showed the children second position, then they did some exercises skipping in time to the music and pointing their toes.
‘Are we going to learn twirling?’ Clementine asked Ana.
‘Twirling comes a bit later, Clementine,’ Ana said. ‘Does anyone know what twirling is called in ballet?’
The children looked blankly at one another before Teddy raised his hand. ‘It’s called a pirouette,’ he said.
‘Yes, Teddy, that’s exactly what it’s called.’ His mother nodded and turned to the class. ‘It’s a French word. Can you all say it after me?’
The children nodded and echoed the word back to Ana, who smiled broadly.
‘There are lots of French words in ballet,’ she said. ‘I think my favourite is pas de chat.’
‘What’s that?’ Clemmie asked.
Sophie put up her hand, and Ana nodded at her. ‘I think I know. Daddy is French and I think it means “step of the cat”.’
‘Well done, Sophie, that’s exactly right. Clever girl.’
‘Can you show us pas de chat?’ Clemmie asked.
Ana smiled. ‘Why not?’
She hopped up and put on some music, then stood with her hands softly in front of her. Ana raised them up slowly then leapt three steps to the left and then three steps to the right.
The children all began to imitate her, leaping left and then right.
‘Softly, softly,’ Ana reminded them. Some of the children resembled baby hippos more than cats.
Ana glanced at the clock and was alarmed to find it was already half past four.
‘Goodness, I’m afraid we’re finished for the day,’ she said, switching off the music.
Clementine’s face fell. ‘No, that was too fast.’
‘I take it that means you’ll be back again next week, Clementine,’ Ana said with a wink.
‘I don’t want to wait that long,’ the child replied. ‘I thought we would learn a dance today.’
Ana smiled. ‘Oh, sweetheart, we have to master some steps first. I do have a surprise, though.’
Clementine looked at the woman expectantly.
‘At the end of the month we have the official opening of the village hall, and we’ve been asked to do a short performance,’ Ana said.
‘Can we do a proper dance?’ Clementine asked, jigging up and down on the spot.
‘With costumes?’ Teddy added.
‘I hadn’t really thought about that,’ Ana said. ‘Perhaps we could do a snippet of something that’s not too complicated, though I’m not sure we’ll have time to make special costumes, Teddy. I think the girls look lovely in their tutus but we could try to find something more exciting for the boys to wear.’
‘We could ask Uncle Felix to make some sets for us,’ Teddy suggested.
The children grinned at each other and pumped their fists excitedly.
‘Goodness me, this is sounding bigger than Ben-Hur,’ Ana laughed.
Lady Clarissa and Mrs Rousseau walked into the hall with Angus’s mother, Mrs Archibald, behind them.
‘Good afternoon, everyone,’ Ana said as she dismissed the class.
‘Go-ood af-ter-noon, Ana,’ the children chorused happily.
Clementine ran to join her mother.
‘How was your very first ballet lesson, darling?’ Lady Clarissa asked.
‘We learned first position and second position and skipping with our hands on our hips,’ Clementine babbled. ‘But there was no twirling and we haven’t done any proper dancing yet.’ Her mouth drooped.
‘Never mind, it takes time to become good at something like ballet,’ Lady Clarissa said.
Clementine perked up. ‘But that’s okay, we’re doing a show for the village.’
‘Oh, really?’ Lady Clarissa said, surprised. ‘Mrs Tribble mentioned she would like your class to perform, though I think she was hoping that Ana might dance too. I know she’s lined up Mrs Mogg’s quilting group for an exhibition and she was working hard to convince the new Irish dancing teacher to be part of the program as well.’
Beside them, Mrs Archibald asked Angus what he thought of the class.
‘It was okay,’ the boy said.
Clementine smiled at him and, although he was trying hard not to, he
couldn’t help but give her a small grin back.
‘So you’ll come again next week?’ Mrs Archibald said.
Clementine looked at him, and the boy shrugged.
‘You don’t have to if you don’t want to,’ Mrs Archibald said. ‘Your father and I just thought this might be fun since you’re always dancing around the house. You could try the Irish dancing class if you’d rather. I heard there are some boys in the class.’
Angus shook his head. ‘I’ll stick with this,’ he whispered.
‘You were really good, Angus,’ Clementine said.
‘Thanks,’ Angus said, and followed his mother outside.
‘See you tomorrow,’ Clementine called.
The boy turned and gave Clemmie a wave.
The next morning Clementine raced across the playground to drop her bag in the locker room. She was on her way to find Sophie and Poppy when she spotted Joshua Tribble standing around the corner. He was humming to himself and jigging about from one leg to the other.
‘Are you dancing?’ Clementine asked.
The boy spun around. His face was the colour of a tomato and he shook his head. ‘Of course not. Dancing is stupid!’
‘Do you need to go to the toilet?’ Clementine asked.
‘No!’ Joshua snatched up his soccer ball and sped away into the playground.
Clementine was left wondering what the boy was up to this time.
‘How was your first ballet lesson, Clemmie?’ Mr Smee asked as she walked into the classroom.
‘I loved it,’ Clementine replied with a beaming smile. ‘We’re doing a concert for the village to celebrate the new hall.’
Mr Smee raised an eyebrow. ‘A concert already? That sounds ambitious.’
‘Ana is going to help us,’ Clementine explained, ‘so we don’t get too muddled-up.’
The children found their seats and Mr Smee waited for everyone to settle down before he said good morning and instructed them to take out their writing books. Each morning he wrote the start of a sentence on the whiteboard, which was sometimes accompanied by a picture, and they had fifteen minutes to write as much as they could. It was Clementine’s favourite part of the day, and she was getting much better with her stories.
Clementine Rose and the Ballet Break-In 8 Page 2
