Clementine Rose and the Treasure Box 6

by Jacqueline Harvey

  Clementine was wondering if the girl had a different name too. She must have read Clementine’s mind.

  ‘And my name really is Tilda and I don’t like anything else.’ She nodded decisively.

  ‘You look the same,’ Clementine said. ‘Except for your hair.’

  ‘I’m five minutes older,’ Teddy said proudly. ‘So she’s the baby of the family.’

  ‘Everyone knows the youngest is the cutest.’ Tilda grinned.

  Araminta wrinkled her nose. ‘Says who?’

  ‘Says your apparently very cute little sister,’ Basil said, rolling his eyes playfully.

  Clementine liked the family already. She looked at the patterned shell in Tilda’s hands. It was about the size of a bread and butter plate.

  ‘This is Flash. He’s a bit shy sometimes,’ said Tilda. Clementine could just see the curve of the tortoise’s neck hidden inside his portable home. ‘He’s still getting used to things but he’ll come out when he’s ready.’

  Tilda put Flash into a basket on the floor in the corner of the kitchen. ‘That’s not his real house. We’ve got to find it. We don’t know where the men from the truck put it.’

  ‘This is Clarissa Appleby and Clementine Rose,’ Basil said. ‘They’re our neighbours.’

  ‘Hello everyone,’ Clarissa said. ‘It’s lovely to meet you all.’

  ‘Do you live in that massive house near the corner?’ Araminta asked.

  Clementine nodded.

  ‘Wow!’ the twins said in unison. ‘That’s a mansion.’

  ‘Are there ghosts?’ Teddy asked.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Lady Clarissa replied.

  Tilda’s eyes widened. ‘What about in the attic?’

  Lady Clarissa shook her head. ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘Really?’ The girl wrinkled her lip. ‘I thought all old houses had ghosts.’

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ Lady Clarissa said.

  ‘I’m not disappointed.’ Araminta shuddered. She wasn’t keen on anything spooky. Tilda and Teddy knew it and loved trying to scare their big sister.

  ‘Sometimes I think Granny and Grandpa are like ghosts,’ Clementine said. ‘I imagine that they fly down from their portraits and take tea in the sitting room. Grandpa loves poetry and Granny is always smiling.’

  The twins looked at each other. ‘Cool!’ they said at the same time.

  Araminta shook her head. ‘Not cool.’ But she couldn’t help thinking that Clementine was just about the cutest girl she’d ever met.

  Basil opened the cake box and lifted the chocolate confection onto a plate.

  Tilda licked her lips when she saw it. ‘Yum.’

  The group settled around the table with cups of tea for the adults and lemonade for the children.

  ‘How did you ever come to buy this place?’ Lady Clarissa asked, before taking a sip of her tea.

  ‘We’ve been looking for a home in the country for quite a while now. A friend told us he’d seen a little cottage for sale in Penberthy Floss,’ said Basil. A sheepish look settled on the man’s face. ‘I have to admit I knew the village because of your house.’

  ‘Our house?’ Lady Clarissa asked in surprise.

  ‘I make documentaries about grand homes, and Penberthy House has been on my list for ages, along with Highton Hall and Lord Tavistock’s pile.’

  Lady Clarissa laughed. ‘I’m afraid our place is nothing like either of those mansions.’

  ‘Perhaps not, but I’m sure that it has just as fascinating a history.’

  ‘You’re probably right about that,’ said Lady Clarissa, nodding.

  The adults continued chatting about the house while the children drank their lemonade and tucked into their cake.

  ‘This is good!’ Teddy said as crumbs sputtered from his mouth.

  Clementine smiled.

  ‘Do you have any pets?’ Araminta asked. ‘Daddy said that we’re going to get a dog now that we live in the country.’

  Clementine stiffened. She hoped it wasn’t a dog that liked to leave messages. Aunt Violet would definitely have something to say about that.

  ‘I have a teacup pig,’ said Clementine. ‘Her name is Lavender and she’s at home with Pharaoh. He’s Aunt Violet’s cat.’

  ‘A teacup pig!’ Tilda and Teddy said at exactly the same time.

  Araminta looked at the twins and shook her head. ‘They always do that,’ she explained to Clementine. ‘You’ll get used to it even though it can be a bit weird.’

  The children fired a volley of questions at Clementine about where she went to school and what sort of things there were to do in the village and if she had a pony. They’d soon finished their afternoon tea and asked if they could take her on a tour of the house and garden.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Lady Clarissa. ‘But we can’t stay too long.’

  ‘Aunt Violet will grumble if dinner is late,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Who’s Aunt Violet?’ Araminta asked.

  ‘She’s Grandpa’s sister and she complains a lot,’ Clementine explained.

  ‘Clemmie, she’s not that bad,’ her mother said.

  ‘Well, she was when she first came to stay and now she’s never going to leave,’ Clementine said. ‘But I suppose we’re used to her.’

  The children scooted into the hallway and up the stairs, leaving Basil and Ana frowning and Lady Clarissa with a rueful smile on her face.

  The children delighted in showing off every nook and cranny of the house, including a wonderful space in the attic with a whole lot of mirrors.

  Clementine pointed to a long bar running along the mirrored wall. ‘What’s that for?’

  ‘That’s Mummy’s, so she can practise,’ Tilda said.

  ‘Practise what?’ Clementine asked.

  ‘Ballet. She’s going to start a ballet school in the village hall,’ Araminta explained.

  Clementine’s eyes widened. ‘I love ballet.’

  ‘Maybe you can join Mummy’s school. She’s very good at it. I helped her choose the tutus that the girls will have to wear. They’re red,’ said Tilda.

  ‘Do you learn?’ she asked the children.

  Araminta shook her head. ‘I used to but I didn’t really like it.’

  ‘We do,’ the twins said together.

  Clementine’s tummy fluttered. The twins shared a room and Araminta had her own with a bathroom between them. There was another room, which their father was planning to use as a study, and their parents’ bedroom, which had a smart white ensuite with a beautiful big bath. Clementine thought Aunt Violet would have liked that a lot.

  The foursome darted back downstairs and took Clementine into the garden. A lush lawn rolled down to a little creek. The children passed the raised garden beds, which were for a new vegetable patch.

  ‘Uncle Felix said that he’s going to build us a tree house up there.’ Tilda pointed into the fork of an ancient oak. ‘Daddy can’t build anything but Uncle Felix can build everything. He fixed the house.’

  ‘That would be amazing,’ Clementine said. She loved the idea of having a tree house to play in.

  A little while later, Basil called out that it was time for Clementine to go. The children were inspecting the newly constructed chicken coop, which was waiting for some residents. They raced back to the house.

  ‘Mummy, there’s a chicken house and their uncle is going to build a tree house and there’s a play room in the attic, with a bar and mirrors for ballet,’ Clementine said excitedly. ‘Can they come and play tomorrow?’ She looked at her mother, her blue eyes pleading.

  ‘Of course, darling, if it’s all right with Basil and Ana,’ Clarissa replied.

  ‘How about I walk them up after lunch?’ Basil suggested.

  ‘I can give you a tour of the house if you like?’ Clarissa said.

  Basil rubbed his pointy little beard and grinned. ‘Oh, that would be splendid.’

  ‘Why don’t you all come for afternoon tea?’ Clarissa said. ‘Say, two o’clock.�
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  ‘You can meet Aunt Violet,’ said Clementine, wrinkling her nose. ‘And Uncle Digby. He’s lovely.’

  ‘Is he married to Aunt Violet?’ Ana asked.

  Clementine began to giggle. ‘No way. Uncle Digby’s much too smart for that.’

  Lady Clarissa quickly explained who Uncle Digby was.

  ‘Well, see you tomorrow,’ Clarissa said as she and Clementine set off.

  ‘See you tomorrow,’ the children and their parents called back.

  That evening, Clementine talked non-stop about her new friends. Aunt Violet was out for the evening with Mrs Bottomley. It had come as a surprise to everyone that the two ladies had become friends after Clementine’s class excursion to the farm. The pair had got lost after Mrs Bottomley was chased by a crazy goose called Eloise, and Aunt Violet had gone after them. Ever since, Aunt Violet and Mrs Bottomley had bonded each week over a game of bridge and a glass of brandy. It helped that they had a mutual dislike of children too.

  Uncle Digby said it was just as well Aunt Violet was out, as she hadn’t been very enthusiastic about the neighbours. She would probably be rather miffed about Clemmie’s eagerness and her niece inviting them for afternoon tea.

  ‘Mummy, my tummy feels fluttery,’ said Clementine as Lady Clarissa tucked her into bed.

  ‘Why do you think that is?’

  ‘Maybe because … it’s excited. The children are so lovely and Ana is beautiful, isn’t she?’ Clementine said as her mother stroked her hair. ‘Can I have ballet lessons, Mummy? Please.’

  ‘We’ll see about that. And, yes, Ana is beautiful and the children are fun, and Basil’s a bit of a character. I think we’re very lucky to have the Hobbses as neighbours.’ She leaned down and kissed Clemmie’s cheek.

  ‘I’m going to tidy up my room in the morning,’ Clementine said.

  Lady Clarissa looked around. Clementine’s room was never particularly messy at all. ‘Why do you need to do that?’

  ‘So I can show the kids,’ Clementine said. ‘Then I can help you.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Lady Clarissa. Clementine clearly wanted ballet lessons a lot. ‘You’re very sweet. Love you.’ Lady Clarissa stood up and walked over to the door and flicked off the light.

  ‘Love you too, Mummy.’ Clementine closed her eyes and within a few minutes she was fast asleep.

  Hours later, just after the grandfather clock downstairs chimed three, Clementine woke up and realised she needed the toilet. The house was quiet except for the usual creaks and groans. Lady Clarissa said that the new roof would probably make all sorts of noises for a while. Clementine slipped out of bed and plodded across the hall to the bathroom, still half-asleep. As she washed her hands, she glanced through the sheer curtains and wondered about the red glow across the field. Clementine rubbed her eyes and pulled the curtain back.

  ‘Mummy!’ she yelled. ‘Mummy! Come quickly.’

  Lady Clarissa had been sound asleep. So had Uncle Digby and Aunt Violet. But within a minute the three of them bumped into each other on the landing.

  ‘Goodness, Clementine, you’ll wake the dead with that bellowing,’ Aunt Violet grumbled.

  Lady Clarissa pushed open the bathroom door. ‘What’s the matter, Clemmie?’

  ‘Look!’ She pointed out the window.

  Lady Clarissa focused. Uncle Digby pulled his glasses out of his dressing-gown pocket.

  ‘Good heavens,’ he said. ‘I’ll call the brigade.’ He raced out to the telephone on the small table near the top of the stairs.

  Aunt Violet peered through the window, her eyes adjusting to the light. ‘Oh, oh dear. I wonder what it is. Don’t just stand there, Clarissa. We should see if there’s anything we can do.’

  ‘Aunt Violet, I don’t think we’ll be much help,’ said Lady Clarissa.

  ‘Godfathers, Clarissa, don’t be so dull. It’s the most exciting thing to happen around here for a jolly long time and I’m not about to miss it,’ the old woman sniffed.

  Clementine was dancing about. She wanted to see what was happening too.

  ‘Well don’t just stand there, Clementine. Get your dressing-gown,’ Aunt Violet insisted.

  The child rushed back across the hall to her bedroom. She pulled her dressing-gown from the end of her bed and dragged it over her arms, then stuffed her feet into her slippers.

  Clementine hurried downstairs with her mother close behind her. Uncle Digby was in the entrance hall but Aunt Violet had disappeared.

  ‘Has she gone to get a bucket?’ Digby asked. ‘I’ll get the car keys.’

  The wailing of sirens in the distance signalled that the fire truck was on its way from Highton Mill.

  Aunt Violet thumped downstairs and elbowed Digby out of the way. ‘I’ll drive! We’re not taking that clapped-out bomb of yours.’

  Aunt Violet’s shiny red car was parked out the front of the house. A minute later, everyone was strapped into their seats. The back wheels spun as Aunt Violet planted her foot on the accelerator. The car hurtled down the driveway, out onto the street and around the corner to the village.

  ‘Look out!’ Clementine called as the fire truck raced past. Aunt Violet swerved out of the way.

  ‘Maniacs! We could have been killed,’ Aunt Violet huffed.

  ‘Aunt Violet. That’s the fire brigade.’ Clementine shook her head. ‘You have to get out of their way.’

  Aunt Violet followed the truck past Mrs Mogg’s store and the church.

  ‘What’s on fire?’ she asked, squinting to see.

  ‘Oh no!’ Lady Clarissa gasped.

  ‘Well, what is it?’ Aunt Violet demanded.

  ‘It’s the village hall,’ Clarissa replied.

  Aunt Violet pulled a face. ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Don’t sound so disappointed, Miss Appleby,’ Digby said from the back seat. He’d just managed to right himself and remove the seatbelt from around his neck. ‘What were you hoping for? Mrs Mogg’s shop? The village inn, or some poor soul’s home?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Pertwhistle!’ Aunt Violet retorted. ‘I just meant that I’m glad it’s nothing important.’

  ‘The village hall is important, Aunt Violet,’ Clementine said from the back seat. ‘That’s where we have the flower show and the village concert and where Ana was going to start her ballet school.’

  ‘Who’s Ana?’ Aunt Violet asked.

  Clementine began to explain but was interrupted.

  ‘Does the woman have any experience?’ Aunt Violet asked. ‘Ballet is an art form. If you’re not trained properly you can do all sorts of damage.’

  ‘Did you do ballet, Aunt Violet?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I took lessons when I was at boarding school. You don’t get to have my posture without years of training. We have to see whether this Ana woman knows what she’s talking about. I’ll insist on seeing her references.’

  Clementine was no longer listening. They’d stopped behind the fire truck, and she was watching as the firemen rolled out their hoses and began pumping water onto the flames. Clarissa opened the passenger door. The sirens had woken the whole village and a small crowd was gathering on the footpath across the street.

  Clementine hopped out too. She’d never seen so many people in pyjamas before. It was a bit like a sleepover, except everyone was awake. She was surprised to see Mrs Mogg’s hair in rollers and Father Bob in his dressing-gown, which had trains on it.

  ‘Please stand back, everyone,’ the fire captain called. As he spoke the roof collapsed, sending a shower of sparks into the air.

  ‘Oh!’ the crowd gasped.

  The villagers watched on, murmuring to one another, mesmerised by the inferno. After a while the flames began to die down. The smoke was starting to clear and it was obvious there was not a lot left of the hall.

  Another siren wailed and a few minutes later a police car pulled up in the middle of the road. Two men got out and talked to the fire captain, and then one of them turned around to address the crowd.

 
He consulted his notepad. ‘Is Digby Pertwhistle here?’

  The old man raised his hand and stepped forward. ‘Yes, that’s me.’

  ‘You reported the fire, is that correct?’ the policeman asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. But it was Clementine who spotted it first,’ Digby said.

  Clementine stepped forward next to Uncle Digby. ‘I saw the flames when I went to the toilet. Mummy said that I shouldn’t have such a big glass of milk before bedtime but I was thirsty.’

  ‘Well, it’s just as well you did, young lady,’ the policeman said, ‘or else this fire might have been much worse. It looks like they’ve saved the old stables and the shed at the back.’

  ‘Clementine, thank goodness you saw it.’ Mrs Mogg rushed forward and enveloped the child. ‘I was sleeping like a brick. I didn’t hear a thing until the siren was right outside the front door.’

  ‘Yes, well spotted, Clemmie,’ Father Bob said.

  Clementine shrugged. ‘I just went to the toilet.’

  The flames were almost out, with some smouldering embers keeping the firemen busy. The other policeman was attaching blue-and-white tape to the fence to indicate that the grounds were off limits.

  ‘Did anyone see anything?’ the first policeman asked the group.

  There was a collective shaking of heads.

  ‘No, but come to think of it, after our quilting club meeting last night, the light switch sparked on me as I turned it off to leave,’ Mrs Mogg said with a frown. ‘Goodness, I hope I wasn’t the cause.’

  The policeman nodded. ‘Mmm, sounds like it could have been an electrical fault.’

  ‘You couldn’t have known there was a problem, Margaret,’ Lady Clarissa said to the woman. She turned to Clementine. ‘I think we should be getting home.’

  Clarissa and Clemmie bade goodnight to Mrs Mogg and Father Bob and the other residents. Aunt Violet had run back to the car as soon as she had seen how many people were about. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking arriving in her dressing-gown.

  ‘Where’s Pertwhistle?’ Aunt Violet demanded as Clemmie and Clarissa climbed into the car.

  ‘Uncle Digby said that it would be safer to walk home,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Did he now? Well, he can remember that the next time he wants a lift anywhere,’ Aunt Violet said through pursed lips.