‘But he never goes anywhere in the car with you,’ Clementine said. ‘Except for tonight.’
‘If he doesn’t like my driving, then too bad.’ Aunt Violet pulled away from the kerb and did a U-turn, narrowly missing the police car.
‘Godfathers! Why on earth is that parked there?’ she grumbled and sped off into the night.
Clementine rolled over and yawned. She wondered if the fire last night had been a dream. Then she remembered Aunt Violet’s driving. That had been more like a nightmare.
There was a knock at her door and Lady Clarissa entered. ‘Hello sleepyhead. You must have been tired.’
‘I couldn’t remember for a minute if the fire was real, but it was, wasn’t it?’ Clementine asked.
‘Yes, darling. It was real. And so was that terrifying ride in Aunt Violet’s car.’
Clementine sat up. ‘Can we go to the village and have a look at the hall?’
Her mother nodded. ‘I’ve got to get the mail and a few bits and pieces from Mrs Mogg. Hop up and get dressed. We’ll go once you’ve had breakfast.’
‘Tilda and Teddy and Mintie are coming for afternoon tea today, aren’t they?’ Clementine said suddenly. With everything else that had happened she’d almost forgotten about her new friends. ‘Oh no! If there’s no village hall, where will Ana have her ballet lessons?’ Clementine’s face fell. She’d been hoping that Mrs Mogg would be able to make her a tutu.
‘I don’t know, sweetheart, but I’m sure she will work something out. The Hobbses are a bit protected down in that hollow at the end of the road so they might not know about the fire yet. I’ll break the news gently to Ana this afternoon.’
Lavender waddled into the room, snuffling along the floorboards. She’d already been downstairs and back again, having hopped out of her basket at the end of Clemmie’s bed earlier when the girl was still sound asleep.
‘Good morning, Lavender.’ Clementine slipped down from her bed and cuddled the little pig.
Lady Clarissa opened the wardrobe door. ‘What would you like to wear today?’
Clementine thought for a moment. ‘May I please have the yellow dress with the blue flowers?’
‘Lovely.’ Her mother pulled the dress from the hanger. ‘And Mrs Mogg will be so pleased to see you wearing it.’
Clementine’s love of fashion was well known in the village. It was something she shared with her great-aunt. But while Aunt Violet spent hours poring over fashion magazines, it was Mrs Mogg who created all manner of outfits for the child. She enjoyed nothing more than spoiling Clementine with new clothes.
Clementine dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. Aunt Violet was at the table, nibbling on some toast and flicking through a magazine.
‘Good morning, Aunt Violet,’ Clementine said.
The woman glanced up. ‘Morning. That’s a pretty dress.’
Clementine smiled. ‘Mrs Mogg made it.’
‘I wish she’d think about making some clothes in my size,’ the old woman said with a frown. ‘I’d love something new. But I suppose I’ll just have to make do for now.’
Lady Clarissa came down the back stairs just in time to hear her aunt’s gripe.
‘Aunt Violet, you must have the largest collection of clothes on the planet. I’m almost certain you could wear something different every day for the next ten years,’ Clarissa tutted.
‘That’s quite beside the point, Clarissa. I’d like something new.’
‘Well, unless you win the lottery, you’re just going to have to put up with what you’ve got.’ Clarissa pulled a box of cereal from the shelves and shook some flakes into a bowl.
Aunt Violet pointed a manicured finger towards her magazine. ‘Look. There’s a competition here to win an entire new wardrobe.’
‘Well then, you should enter it,’ Clarissa said.
‘No, Mummy, you should enter it,’ said Clementine. ‘You’re much luckier than Aunt Violet. She lost all her money and her house. And didn’t you lose some of your husbands, too?’ Clementine asked, glancing up at the woman.
‘Clementine Rose Appleby, the cheek of you!’ Aunt Violet jerked her chair back and stood up. ‘It’s all yours, Clarissa.’ She pushed the magazine to the end of the table. ‘And you’d better win. That might go some way towards making up for that insolent daughter of yours.’ Aunt Violet stalked out of the room.
Clementine looked at her mother. ‘Did I say something wrong? It was the truth, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes, darling. But sometimes grown-ups don’t like to be reminded of their mistakes, that’s all.’ Clarissa poured some milk into the bowl and set it down on the table.
Clementine dug her spoon into the crispy flakes and took a mouthful.
As the grandfather clock struck two, the doorbell rang. Clementine and Lavender skittered out of the kitchen to the front hall.
Clementine wrenched open the door and saw Basil, Ana and their three children standing on the porch.
‘Hello, please come in,’ Clementine said. She made a slight bow. Lavender gave a small grunt.
‘Thank you, Clementine.’ Basil doffed his stylish trilby hat.
Ana smiled but the children only had eyes for Lavender. They were just about bursting with excitement.
‘Oh my goodness, she’s adorable!’ Araminta exclaimed. ‘Can I hold her?’
Clementine nodded and bent down to pick up the little pig.
She passed Lavender to Araminta, and the pig immediately snuggled against the girl’s chest. Tilda scratched the creature under the chin and Lavender repaid her with a nibble.
Teddy jigged about excitedly. ‘She’s so cute. Mummy, can we have one?’
Ana shook her head. ‘I thought we’d settled on a dog and some chooks, and we’ve already got Flash.’
Lady Clarissa came through the hall and joined them. ‘Hello everyone. Welcome to Penberthy House.’
Basil was busily gazing about the foyer. His eyes came to rest on the Appleby family portraits lining the stairs.
‘That’s Granny and Grandpa,’ said Clementine. She pointed at a regal-looking couple halfway up the wall. ‘And that’s Aunt Violet when she was young and beautiful. She’s not like that any more.’
‘I heard that, Clementine,’ a sharp voice echoed from the upstairs landing.
‘Oops!’ Clementine covered her mouth and everyone exchanged grins.
‘And what is going on down there?’ Aunt Violet’s head appeared over the banister rail.
‘Aunt Violet, I’d like you to meet our new neighbours,’ Lady Clarissa said.
‘You didn’t tell me you’d invited anyone over, Clarissa.’ The old woman walked downstairs. ‘Especially since I told you not to,’ she muttered to herself.
‘Aunt Violet.’ Lady Clarissa’s voice was stern. ‘This is Basil and Ana Hobbs and their children Araminta, Teddy and Tilda.’
‘Yes, yes, lovely to meet you all,’ Aunt Violet said wanly. The old woman reluctantly shook hands with Basil, then looked at Ana. She studied the woman’s face and it was as if a light came on. ‘Oh my heavens. You’re Anastasia Barkov.’
Ana nodded. ‘That’s what I was called professionally.’
‘Good heavens, Clarissa, why didn’t you tell me that our new neighbour is the recently retired prima ballerina of the Royal Ballet?’ Aunt Violet demanded.
‘I’m afraid I didn’t know,’ Lady Clarissa apologised.
‘Please, I wouldn’t have expected you to,’ said Ana. Her ears and cheeks turned a matching shade of pink.
‘The woman’s a national icon, Clarissa. I suppose that’s the trouble when you spend your life out here in the country, devoid of all culture,’ Aunt Violet said. ‘I myself love the ballet. If only I were able to get up to the city more often. I have a subscription, you know.’
Clarissa eyeballed her aunt. That subscription had been cancelled along with various other luxuries her aunt could no longer afford.
‘No wonder you were planning on starting a ballet school,’ C
lementine said. ‘But now the hall’s burnt down.’
‘The hall?’ Basil queried, clearly unaware of the drama. ‘When did that happen?’
‘Last night,’ Clementine said. ‘There were huge flames and lots of smoke and a fire truck and everyone in their pyjamas. Mummy and I went for a walk this morning, and there’s a big pile of burnt wood where the hall was.’ She nodded emphatically.
‘Oh dear,’ said Ana. ‘That’s terrible.’
‘Clementine, I thought we’d planned to break the news gently,’ her mother said.
Clementine’s face fell.
Ana noticed at once. ‘It doesn’t matter, Clementine. It might just delay my plans a little. I’m sure they’ll rebuild the hall.’
‘The rate anything happens around here, my dear, I wouldn’t count on starting that school any time soon,’ Aunt Violet said. ‘Perhaps you’d be better off to find another venue.’
‘I’ve already investigated lots of other places and the Penberthy Floss Village Hall seemed to be the only space available. We’ll just have to postpone, I suppose.’
Clementine didn’t like that idea at all. She was keen to start ballet lessons as soon as possible.
‘Please, why don’t you all come and have something to eat,’ Lady Clarissa suggested.
Digby Pertwhistle had just popped the kettle onto the stove when Clarissa appeared in the kitchen with the guests.
She quickly introduced him and asked that everyone take a seat. Clementine had to show the children Pharaoh first, of course.
‘He looks weird,’ Teddy whispered.
Clementine nodded. ‘I know. He’s a sphynx. They’ve got no hair. But he’s lovable and he’s Lavender’s best friend apart from me.’
‘What are you whispering about, Clementine?’ Aunt Violet demanded.
‘Nothing.’ Clementine shook her head. She knew from experience that it was better not to comment aloud on Pharaoh’s appearance.
‘Why don’t you show the children where to wash their hands, and then come and sit down,’ Lady Clarissa suggested.
She placed a large strawberry sponge cake in the middle of the table. There was another platter of brownies to follow and some homemade honey jumbles too.
‘Goodness me, Clarissa, you must be the world’s best baker,’ Ana commented.
‘I can’t take credit for all this. Pierre Rousseau owns the patisserie in Highton Mill. He delivers cakes and bread for Mrs Mogg to sell in the shop so I snapped up the sponge this morning. The brownies and honey jumbles are mine but they’re a cinch.’
Clementine and the children returned and quickly sat down, eyeing off the tasty treats.
‘That’s still impressive,’ said Ana. ‘I don’t cook.’
‘Not at all?’ Clarissa said.
‘No. Basil is in charge of the food at our place. With all my touring and strict diets and the like, I’m sad to say it’s not something I’ve ever mastered. Maybe you could give me some lessons?’
‘Of course not,’ Aunt Violet said briskly. ‘A performer such as yourself, dear, has no mind slaving over a hot stove. I don’t believe in it either.’
‘But you’re not a ballerina, Aunt Violet,’ Clementine said. ‘You just don’t like cooking.’
Aunt Violet wrinkled her lip and looked away. ‘And what about you, Basil? What’s your line of work?’
‘I’m a filmmaker,’ the man replied.
‘Oh, fascinating.’ Aunt Violet was paying the new neighbours far more attention than anyone might have imagined. ‘Feature films?’
‘Documentaries,’ Basil said.
‘Oh. How … educational.’ Aunt Violet barely disguised her disappointment.
‘Actually, I was thinking I’d like to make a film about Penberthy House,’ Basil said.
‘A film about our house?’ Clementine asked, her eyes widening.
Aunt Violet’s did too. ‘Really?’ A smug smile began to form.
‘Well, I’m sure it has a wonderful history and from the little I’ve seen so far, the house seems mostly original.’
‘That’s just a polite way of saying “tatty”, Basil,’ Lady Clarissa said, smiling.
‘No, not at all. This place is a gem and I’d love to uncover everything about it. Of course, I need your permission, Clarissa. I’d want to feature the family too,’ Basil explained.
Uncle Digby looked at Lady Clarissa, who in turn looked towards Aunt Violet, who was preening her hair and looking very satisfied with herself.
‘I don’t know, Basil. We’ve always been quite a private family,’ Lady Clarissa said.
‘How can you say that, Clarissa?’ Aunt Violet snapped. ‘You’ve opened our beautiful home so that all the riffraff under the sun can stay here.’
‘It could be very good for business, Clarissa,’ said Uncle Digby.
‘Yes, Mummy, imagine if we were on the television. Lots of people would want to come and see Lavender and Pharaoh,’ Clementine enthused.
‘Can I have some time to think about it, Basil?’ Lady Clarissa asked.
‘Yes, of course. I’m busy for the next couple of months anyway. We couldn’t start shooting for a while yet.’
‘Well, that will give you some time to get things in pristine order, won’t it, Clarissa?’ Aunt Violet looked at her niece. ‘We’d want the house looking her best. And perhaps, Clementine, you can convince Mrs Mogg to make me something new to wear. I’d like to look my best too.’
‘Are you in possession of a time machine, Miss Appleby?’ Digby Pertwhistle gave the woman a wry smile.
‘Very funny, Pertwhistle.’
The adults around the table did their best to smother smiles.
‘Why does Aunt Violet need a time machine, Uncle Digby?’ Clementine asked.
‘I don’t. Pertwhistle just wanted to borrow it so he could travel back and locate his hair,’ the old woman quipped.
This time everyone laughed out loud. Even Uncle Digby.
Clementine and the children soon finished their afternoon tea and began fidgeting in their seats.
‘Mummy, may we go up to my room?’ Clementine asked. She was keen to show her new friends around the house, just as the children had shown her their home the day before.
Lady Clarissa nodded. ‘Yes, of course, darling. I’m going to give Basil and Ana a tour in a little while.’
‘I could do that,’ Aunt Violet offered. ‘Wouldn’t you prefer to get on with the washing up?’
Clarissa glared at her aunt. ‘No, Aunt Violet. The washing up can wait. But you’re welcome to join us if you’d like.’
The old woman’s mouth puckered.
Uncle Digby offered everyone some more tea.
‘See you later,’ Clementine said.
She darted away and the three Hobbs children followed her up the back stairs to the landing.
‘What’s up here?’ Araminta asked.
‘This is where the guests stay.’ Clementine said. ‘My room’s on the next floor.’
She raced up the second flight of steps and along the corridor. Clemmie’s room was at the front of the house, overlooking the garden. It was a large space with high ceilings and a pretty bedstead. She had a beautiful old rocking horse, which had been in the family longer than anyone could remember, and a doll’s house that Aunt Violet said had been given to her as a child.
‘What a lovely room,’ Araminta said.
‘This used to be Aunt Violet’s bedroom when she was a little girl,’ Clementine explained.
Teddy climbed up on the rocking horse and Araminta and Tilda explored the doll’s house. After a few minutes, Clementine offered to show them the rest of the house.
The group followed Clementine back into the corridor, where she pointed out the bedrooms belonging to Uncle Digby, her mother and Aunt Violet.
Araminta looked towards a little door at the end of the hall. ‘What’s through there?’ she asked.
‘The stairs to the attic,’ said Clementine.
‘The attic?’ Te
ddy’s face lit up. ‘What’s up there?’
‘Lots of stuff. Do you want to see it?’
‘Yes, please,’ the twins chorused.
Clementine opened the door and walked into a small corridor with a staircase. She flicked on the light.
Araminta hung back a bit. ‘Is it dark?’
‘No.’ Clementine shook her head. ‘But there’s lots of junk.’
Teddy looked at Tilda and winked. ‘I don’t know. It looks pretty dark to me. And spooky. Don’t you think, Mintie?’
Araminta frowned.
‘Don’t look so scared, Mintie. If there are any ghosts Teddy and I will protect you.’ Tilda grabbed hold of her big sister’s hand.
Araminta didn’t want to believe in ghosts, but if they were ever going to see one, surely it would be in the attic of a grand old house like this. She hated that her little brother and sister were so much braver than she was.
Clemmie led the way. ‘Wow!’ she exclaimed. ‘I can’t see sunlight through the slates any more.’
But her visitors weren’t remotely interested in the newly repaired roof.
They reached the top and Clementine flicked on another light switch.
The three visitors couldn’t believe all of the things that were jammed into the enormous space.
‘Look at this.’ Teddy ran over to a large dome, which contained a stuffed pheasant.
One side of the room was taken up by a row of old wardrobes.
‘What’s in those?’ Araminta asked hesitantly.
‘Dress-ups,’ Clementine said. She guessed what was troubling the older girl. ‘No ghosts.’
Clementine opened the closest wardrobe and pulled out a long ball gown. It was pink and had faded flowers around the neckline.
Araminta and the twins gasped as they realised that the whole wardrobe was crammed with clothes, and so was the next one and the one after that.
‘That one there has hats,’ Clementine said and scurried over to open it. She pulled out a black bonnet and popped it on her head.
‘That’s so cute,’ Tilda giggled.
Clementine Rose and the Treasure Box 6 Page 3
