Clementine Rose and the Best News Yet

by Jacqueline Harvey

  ‘Hello. Welcome to Penberthy House Hotel,’ the child said, and gave a curtsey. ‘My name is Clementine Rose Appleby and I live here.’

  There was a gushing chorus of replies from the three adults on the doorstep. If there was one thing Clementine had learned during her young life, it was how to charm the guests – when she wasn’t accidentally creating disasters. Happily, she was getting much better at the charming part and the messes had become fewer and further between.

  ‘Good afternoon, I’m Violet Appleby,’ said Aunt Violet, and invited the group into the foyer.

  An older man with a shock of grey hair and looks befitting a movie star introduced himself as Nikolai Popov before presenting his daughter, Katie Froggett, her husband, Matthew, and their little boy, Niki. Katie was very stylish in a smart pair of grey trousers and a white silk blouse with a bow at the neck. Her long dark hair was swept into a high ponytail with a fancy clip. Matthew wore a white shirt, a houndstooth jacket and a pair of dark jeans. Niki was equally well dressed in long navy trousers and a checked shirt with a red bow tie. He looked about two years old, and was clutching a grey rabbit with floppy ears – one of which was in his mouth.

  Clementine thought it would be fun to have a toddler in the house for the next week. Maybe she could offer to help look after Niki, as practice for her own baby brother or sister. He was very cute.

  ‘Welcome and happy birthday, Mr Popov,’ Violet smiled at him. ‘I hear you’re celebrating this week.’

  The man reached out to take her hand but instead of shaking it, he lifted it upwards and grazed it with his lips.

  Clementine giggled, wondering what Uncle Digby would make of the man’s greeting. She knew that he still cared about Aunt Violet, even if she was ignoring him and being mean.

  ‘Oh, Mr Popov.’ Aunt Violet blushed, her left hand spanning her chest.

  ‘I had no idea that our hostess would be so young and beautiful,’ the man said in a posh European accent.

  Clementine pulled a face. ‘She’s not the hostess. This is mummy’s hotel, and she looks like she swallowed a beach ball, but that’s just because she’s about to have my baby brother or sister in three weeks, if they come at the right time. Aunt Violet is Mummy’s aunt and my granny. I used to think she was my great aunt, but her daughter was my other mummy, the one who carried me in her tummy – she died. That was sad. Granny’s as old as Uncle Digby and they’re –’

  Violet gave the child a sharp nudge, stopping her rambling in its tracks.

  Their guests had expressed emotions from surprise to sadness to shock as Clementine spoke, and were now chuckling with laughter at the child’s candidness.

  ‘Goodness me, Clementine, that is quite the potted family history. Perhaps one day you’ll learn to use some tact when you tell it,’ Violet pursed her lips and the guests laughed again.

  ‘Grandchildren are the joy of our lives, are they not,’ Mr Popov said.

  ‘Sometimes,’ Violet sighed, and Clementine grimaced, hoping that she wasn’t going to be in big trouble when everyone went to their rooms.

  ‘You said that your mother is having a baby?’ Mr Popov considered the child curiously.

  Clementine nodded. ‘She’s about to pop – but she promised not to have it this week while you’re here.’

  The man frowned.

  Violet caught sight of his anxious expression. ‘Rest assured, sir, we have everything in hand. In the unlikely event that Clarissa goes early, Penberthy House Hotel will be absolutely fine. Couldn’t be more organised if we tried, really.’

  Clementine thought that was overstating things a bit – the house wasn’t really ready for the baby, and she still had all of her surprises to collect.

  ‘That’s good to know, Miss Appleby.’ He glanced at his grandson. ‘Niki here is the light of my life. There’s something very special about being a grandparent. You must all be terribly excited to have a little one about to arrive.’

  ‘Yes, we are,’ Violet said with a smile. Clementine could only agree. She grinned at Niki. Just seeing the toddler made her feel all giddy inside. She imagined that her own baby brother or sister would make her even happier.

  ‘But, please, can we get that awful thing off him?’ Mr Popov reached out to take the rabbit, but the child clutched it more tightly and his lip began to quiver.

  ‘Papa, you know how much he loves Babbit,’ Katie said, swatting the old man’s hand away. She turned to Aunt Violet. ‘Could we go to our rooms? We’re off on a tour of the village in half an hour and would like to freshen up.’

  ‘That will be a bit boring,’ Clementine said.

  The woman peered at the child, her brows pinched.

  ‘There’s only one shop, and the church, and the village hall and not many houses,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Penberthy Floss is of historical significance to the local area,’ Katie explained. ‘I have notes that say so.’

  ‘Well, you should walk there. That will take longer,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Thank you, but we will take the car,’ the woman sniped, checking her watch.

  Nikolai Popov pulled a funny face at Clementine. ‘Katie’s the boss this week – she’s arranged everything. Actually, she’s always the boss. She runs her own interior design business and I have no idea how she’s wangled the time off.’

  ‘Father,’ Katie Froggett chided. ‘Someone had to take charge to make sure we did something to celebrate your birthday. You would have sat at home on your own and wailed that no one loved you.’

  Nikolai Popov rolled his eyes at Clementine, making her giggle. Mrs Froggett did seem a bit bossy, that’s for sure.

  While her grandmother allocated the rooms, Clementine followed Niki to the staircase, ready to catch him if he fell.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I like your bow tie.’

  The boy smiled, showing off the cutest dimples. Clementine thought her heart was going to melt.

  ‘My name’s Clemmie.’

  He repeated the word. ‘’Lemmie.’

  ‘Nearly got it.’ Clementine beamed and held out her hand. ‘Can I see your bunny?’ she asked, reaching for the tatty rabbit with the wet ear. Niki held the toy out to her, but as Clementine took it his face crumpled – then he did something completely unexpected. Niki clamped his baby teeth down hard on Clementine’s finger.

  ‘Ow!’ Clementine squealed, pulling away. Fat tears began to pool in the corners of her eyes.

  Aunt Violet looked up from her paperwork. ‘Whatever’s the matter now?’

  ‘He bit me.’ Clementine’s voice wobbled and she did her best not to cry.

  ‘Niki’s never bitten anyone. What did you do?’ Katie said and snatched the child up into her arms.

  Clementine recoiled. Niki’s little teeth marks were right there on her finger for anyone to see.

  ‘Take him upstairs,’ directed Mr Popov, a stern edge to his voice. He turned to Clementine. ‘I am sorry. Niki is just coming to the end of the terrible twos – it’s a tricky age.’

  Matthew Popov simply shook his head and followed his wife and son.

  Clementine rubbed her finger, shaken. The toddler had seemed so sweet.

  Mr Popov headed upstairs, leaving Clementine alone with her grandmother.

  ‘Show me,’ the woman said. She took Clementine’s finger and kissed it.

  ‘I only asked to see his rabbit,’ Clementine said.

  ‘Don’t worry – he’s had a long drive and is probably just out of sorts,’ Violet said. ‘Not all babies are biters.’

  Clementine hoped that her grandmother was right.

  ‘Be quiet!’

  Clementine yelled the words down the hallway, in the direction of the Froggett’s room on the floor below.

  She’d tossed and turned half the night, burying her head under her pillow before resorting to more extreme measures and finding her pink earmuffs to wear.

  Further along the corridor, Aunt Violet’s door opened and the woman stepped into the hall. Clementin
e flinched. Her grandmother’s head looked twice its usual size, covered in rollers and a hairnet. There were bags the size of flour sacks under her eyes.

  ‘Godfather’s what’s wrong with the child now?’ she rasped, massaging her temples. ‘All that carry on has given me a migraine.’

  ‘He’s been screaming for hours,’ Clementine said. The pair was joined by Uncle Digby in his dressing-gown and slippers.

  ‘The boy’s got a good set of lungs, hasn’t he?’ the man said.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ Clementine asked.

  Uncle Digby shrugged. ‘Maybe he’s getting some new teeth.’

  ‘He doesn’t need any more of those. He has a good set already,’ Clementine quipped. ‘I felt them on my finger.’

  ‘Perhaps he has a tummy ache. I might as well get dressed and make a start on breakfast. Hopefully your mother hasn’t been disturbed.’

  ‘What about me?’ Aunt Violet balled her fists. ‘I’ve barely had a wink of sleep and my head is throbbing.’

  ‘Please go back to bed, Violet,’ Uncle Digby entreated. ‘I’ll bring you some tea and toast shortly.’

  ‘Don’t you have somewhere else to be?’ the woman dismissed him with a flick of the hand.

  Uncle Digby looked wounded. ‘I have nowhere I’d rather be than here with you – but if you really don’t want that . . .’

  Clementine’s heart pounded. ‘Uncle Digby was just trying to be nice, Granny,’ she said.

  But the woman scoffed and stalked back into her room, closing the door.

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ Clementine said. Aunt Violet was treating Uncle Digby almost as badly as Joshua Tribble treated pretty much everyone at school. There had to be a reason why she was so upset, but keeping it to herself wasn’t helping the situation.

  ‘Let her sleep,’ Digby said. ‘Your grandmother is no use to anyone when she has a migraine.’

  ‘I heard that, Pertwhistle,’ a voice came through the keyhole.

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t be eavesdropping,’ Clementine said ‘It’s rude, and you should tell Uncle Digby what the matter is. He’s not a mind reader.’

  It was no use going back to sleep. Clementine got dressed too, hoping it would be quieter in the kitchen. She gently pushed her mother’s door open and peered in on her way downstairs. Fortunately, the noise hadn’t woken Clarissa up – the woman was snoring softly, tucked under the covers with Pharaoh curled up at her feet.

  ‘I hope our baby is nothing like that one,’ Clementine sighed to Lavender as they padded down the stairs. ‘He’s a monster.’

  Digby was in the kitchen preparing tea when Clementine arrived.

  She set about getting her breakfast, and had just carried a bowl of cereal to the table, when there was a knock on the kitchen door. Clementine opened it to find Katie Froggett standing in the hallway.

  The woman peered into the room, but Digby Pertwhistle had disappeared into the pantry moments beforehand. ‘Excuse me, is there any chance we could have breakfast earlier than scheduled?’ Katie asked. ‘I’m afraid Niki’s been a little unsettled and we thought if we could get something to eat and take him for a walk, that might send him off to sleep.’

  ‘A little unsettled?’ Clementine said bluntly. ‘He was so loud I had to find my earmuffs, and that wasn’t easy because there’s a lot of stuff in my wardrobe and I haven’t used them since last winter.’

  Katie Froggett screwed up her face. ‘Don’t be silly. I’m sure you can’t hear anything from upstairs. We’re much too far away.’

  ‘We can hear everything,’ Clementine said. ‘And it’s put Granny in an even worse mood than when Niki threw mashed potato on her last night when she was serving your dinner.’

  The woman scowled. ‘That’s not what happened at all.’

  Clementine wondered if having a baby meant that mothers suddenly didn’t see the same things everyone else did. Uncle Digby had been in the dining room too, and had told everyone later that when Mr Popov had asked Katie to take the rabbit away from Niki at the dinner table the child had thrown mashed potato at Aunt Violet, whereupon it had stuck to her chin.

  Emerging from the pantry, Uncle Digby hurried over to intervene. ‘Good morning, Mrs Froggett,’ he said with a smile. ‘How may I help you?’ He gave Clementine a nudge and sent her back to her breakfast.

  The woman explained what she was after, and Uncle Digby confirmed he could have breakfast ready in fifteen minutes.

  ‘Thank you,’ Katie Froggett said, and lingered at the door.

  ‘Is there anything else I can help with?’ asked Uncle Digby.

  ‘It’s going to sound silly, but you haven’t seen Babbit – Niki’s little long eared rabbit – have you?’ the woman asked.

  Digby shook his head.

  ‘You see, it went missing in the night. I could have sworn that I tucked it into his cot with him at bedtime, but when he woke up just after midnight it was gone and nothing would settle him,’ Katie said. ‘He’s terribly attached – that’s why he’s been so worked up.’

  Clementine was listening. She hoped that someone found the tatty old thing soon. Another night of Niki’s screaming would be unbearable, and she definitely didn’t want her grandmother to be any grumpier.

  ‘Actually, I wondered if Clementine might have it,’ the woman said.

  Clementine’s jaw dropped. The last thing she’d want is that manky old thing covered in spit and who knows what else. Besides, stealing was not something she’d ever done before, and she had no intentions of starting now.

  ‘No,’ the man said emphatically. ‘That’s not possible. Clementine was in her bed all night.’

  ‘She took it off him when we arrived yesterday.’ The woman wasn’t giving up easily. ‘Then she said that he bit her, which was a lie.’

  Clementine gasped. Niki had bitten her, and her grandmother had seen the mark on her finger.

  ‘I can assure you, Mrs Froggett, that Clementine has nothing to do with your missing Babbit,’ Uncle Digby said, and closed the door.

  ‘How dare she!’ Clementine huffed. ‘I only asked to look at it and then Niki bit me! It’s true!’

  ‘Don’t worry, Clemmie,’ Digby said, walking back to get started with the bacon and eggs. ‘Mrs Froggett is probably just exhausted and clutching at straws. I can’t imagine her husband would have been too happy to spend the night with a screaming toddler either, let alone Mr Popov in the room next door.’

  The man returned to the stove and whipped up a breakfast feast. True to his word, not fifteen minutes later he loaded the first tray. ‘Clemmie, would you mind opening the doors for me, please?’

  ‘I don’t want to go in there. Mrs Froggett thinks I’m a rabbit robber,’ Clementine said. But there was no one else to help Uncle Digby this morning, so she opened the door anyway. At least Niki had stopped screaming.

  In the dining room, Niki was sitting up in his high chair clutching Babbit, his face red and puffy from crying.

  ‘Oh,’ Digby said as he set the plates down on the table. ‘You found it.’

  Katie Froggett frowned. ‘It was the oddest thing. Not long after I spoke to you it appeared like magic on the stairs. It certainly wasn’t there when we came down. Someone is playing silly games and I’d appreciate if they would stop.’

  She glared at Clementine, who was still standing at the door.

  ‘It wasn’t me,’ the child said, folding her arms. ‘I didn’t take it. I wouldn’t.’

  ‘I can assure you, Mrs Froggett, Clementine has been with me in the kitchen since you popped in,’ Digby Pertwhistle said sternly.

  ‘Really? Well, it’s very strange, don’t you think,’ Katie said.

  Clementine could feel her eyes prickling, but she was determined not to cry. Mrs Froggett was mean and she wished they’d never come to stay.

  ‘’Lemmie.’ Niki gave her a toothy grin. ‘Babbit,’ he said and held it up for her to see.

  Clementine couldn’t help herself from smiling back at the b
oy. She wondered if all toddlers were the same – screaming the house down one minute and happy the next. Surely her baby wouldn’t be like that. But, deep down, she was beginning to worry that this was what her mother meant when she said that once their baby arrived, life would never be the same again.

  Clementine stared out her window into the front garden, feeling all mixed up inside. Why did Mrs Froggett think she would take Niki’s rabbit? Clementine hated being accused of something she didn’t do – like when Joshua Tribble said she’d copied from Astrid’s work and Mrs Bottomley had believed him until she realised that it was Joshua who had cheated. At least Mrs Bottomley had said she was sorry.

  There was a knock on the door and Will poked his head inside the room. Clementine spun around in her chair, her face glum.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, resting his shoulder against the door frame.

  Will, who could sleep through an earthquake and a hurricane even if they happened at the same time, had managed to miss the entire screaming toddler and early breakfast debacles. He looked sympathetic as Clementine explained.

  ‘Don’t worry about it, Clemmie. Grown-ups sometimes say things they don’t mean,’ the boy said, trying to cheer her up. ‘Do you want to play soccer?’

  Clementine shook her head.

  ‘Go for a bike ride?’ he tried again.

  Clementine sighed. ‘I haven’t got time.’ She still had all her gifts to collect.

  ‘What are you doing?’ the boy asked.

  ‘Just stuff,’ she replied mysteriously.

  ‘Can I help?’ he said.

  ‘No,’ Clementine shook her head again.

  Will plonked down on the end of her bed and fell backwards. ‘But I’m bored. I wish Jules was here.’

  Clementine thought about it. The baby was going to be as much Will’s little brother or sister as it was hers. Maybe another pair of hands could be useful on her mission.