Clementine Rose and the Surprise Visitor 1 (4 page)

‘A poem,’ Clementine replied. ‘I know lots of them by heart and I have some funny ones too.’

‘No, not particularly. In fact, I’d rather that you left the room,’ Violet snapped. ‘I need to speak to your mother. In private.’

‘But Lavender’s asleep,’ said Clementine seriously.

‘Who’s Lavender? Don’t tell me there’s another child I don’t know about?’ Violet asked.

‘Lavender’s my pig,’ Clementine said. ‘She’s a teacup.’

The woman’s eyes widened and she stared at the teacup in her hand. ‘You have a dirty, smelly pig? And it’s called Lavender?’

‘Pigs aren’t dirty or smelly, Aunt Violet. Pigs are smart and cuddly. Lavender’s only as big as a cat, and she won’t grow any more,’ Clementine replied. ‘That’s why she’s called a teacup pig.’

‘What a load of nonsense,’ Violet scoffed. ‘I’ve never heard such tripe. Everyone knows that pigs are huge and disgusting and they live outside in sties. Off you go. Your mother and I need to talk. About you, among other things.’

‘Aunt Violet, please don’t speak to my daughter like that.’ Clarissa spoke in a voice barely more than a whisper.

‘But I can’t go,’ said Clementine with a scowl. ‘I told you already. Lavender’s asleep.’ She was becoming more certain that her great-aunt was hard of hearing.

‘Where is this so-called teacup pig?’ asked Violet. ‘I suppose you keep it in the kitchen, do you?’

‘She’s under my chair,’ Clementine replied.

Aunt Violet gasped. She looked towards Clarissa, who nodded, then back at Clementine. The child pointed under her chair. Violet knelt down to look. Clementine Rose knelt down at the other end of the table. Their eyes locked underneath.

‘There she is,’ Clementine whispered, and pointed. ‘Please don’t wake her up because she’s very tired.’ She put her finger to her lips.

Violet settled back into her chair.

‘What sort of circus are you running here, Clarissa?’ the old woman demanded. ‘First a child, then a pig in the house and those friends of yours in the sitting room had the hide to ask me if I could get them some more soap for their bathroom – what do I look like? The hired help?’ Violet placed her teacup on the table with a thud.

‘I can explain,’ Clarissa began.

Digby Pertwhistle entered the room, carrying the tea tray full of dirty cups and saucers. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Appleby,’ Digby said with a nod towards her. ‘Welcome back to Penberthy House.’

‘I can’t believe that
you’re
still here. I thought you’d have shuffled off years ago,’ the woman snarled.

‘And it’s lovely to see you too.’ Digby winked at Clementine as he went to the sink and began to unpack the tray.

‘The place is falling down around your ears, Clarissa, and you still insist on having Pertwhistle here,’ Violet hissed. ‘I can’t imagine how you pay the man.’

‘Mummy wins things,’ Clementine said.

Clarissa had hoped Clementine wouldn’t bring that subject up.

‘What do you mean?’ Violet demanded.

‘Mummy wins lots of competitions. She won that coffee machine and this whole kitchen and new beds for upstairs and even a holiday to Tahiti that Uncle Digby took last year,’ Clementine explained. ‘She won Lavender at the fair too, which was very lucky because teacup pigs cost a lot of money.’

‘Well, aren’t you just the fortunate one, Clarissa,’ Violet said through pursed lips.

‘How long are you staying, Aunt Violet?’ Clementine asked.

‘I haven’t decided,’ the woman replied.

Lady Clarissa and Digby Pertwhistle looked at each other, horrified at the thought of having to put up with the woman for any longer than a night.

‘Mummy’s very good at looking after people,’ Clementine announced.

Clarissa and Digby gulped in unison. It was another of those times they both wished Clementine wasn’t quite so honest.

‘Clementine, why don’t you take Lavender upstairs and put her in her basket?’ her mother suggested. ‘I’m sure you can do that without waking her up.’

Clementine peeked at the sleepy pig. Digby lifted the chair and Clementine picked her up, cradling her like a baby.

‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen in my life,’ Violet huffed, then shooed Clementine as if waving away a pesky fly. ‘Well, hurry up then, off you go.’

When Aunt Violet wasn’t looking, Clementine wrinkled her nose at the beastly woman.

C
lementine Rose carried the dozing pig upstairs to her bedroom and laid her in her basket. Lavender stirred and grunted a couple of times but Clemmie tickled her tummy and soon she was fast asleep.

Clementine spent some time colouring in and practising the new poem Uncle Digby had taught her but after a while she felt fidgety.

She noticed that the house had fallen quiet. Usually that meant the guests were off on a ramble or having a rest in their rooms. She kept thinking about Aunt Violet. The lady in the painting was much nicer to talk to than the woman downstairs.
She
was a bossy boots.

Then Clementine remembered the sphynx. Aunt Violet was staying downstairs on the second floor in the Rose Room. She left Lavender sound asleep and made her way along the hall and down the main staircase to the level below. The Rose Room was by far the biggest and prettiest in the whole house. It was also the one that her mother used to advertise the hotel. The room was at the end of the corridor and had a wonderful view of the garden on three sides. It was also the only room with a new bathroom, which had been installed after Lady Clarissa won a bathroom makeover package the year before.

Clementine knocked at the door. There was no answer so she turned the handle and opened it just enough to peek her head around.

‘Hello, Aunt Violet, are you here?’ she called. The room was silent.

Clementine looked about for the black bag. Uncle Digby must have brought up Aunt Violet’s luggage from the car. Sitting on the floor at the end of the bed were three huge suitcases and a beauty case as well. Clementine thought that was a lot for someone staying just one night. Usually weekend guests had only half as much.

One of the suitcases was open. Clementine had a peek under the flap. Sitting on top of a pile of neatly folded clothes was a small gold clock and a bronze statue of a horse. There were some silver candlesticks too. She thought Aunt Violet must really like those things a lot to take them with her for a holiday.

A ruby velvet chaise longue sat underneath the side window. The fabric was a little frayed around the edges but Lady Clarissa had a clever way with throw rugs and cushions and could make the shabbiest of furniture seem well loved rather than in need of fixing. A tall cedar chest of drawers stood beside the doorway to the ensuite bathroom. A roll-top writing desk took up one corner of the room, and there was a dressing table too. On it sat a large vase full of red, pink and peach roses her mother had cut from the garden.

Clementine’s favourite thing in the Rose Room was the enormous four-poster bed. It was so tall that you needed a special stepladder to climb onto it. When the house was empty, Clementine often spent time in this room, climbing up and down onto the bed. Lavender tried to get up too sometimes but her little legs just weren’t long enough.

Clementine tiptoed around to the other side of the bed.

‘Sphynx,’ she whispered in a singsong voice, ‘where are you?’ Then she spotted the black bag sitting open on the floor. ‘Oh!’ Clementine gasped. The bag was empty. Maybe the creature was on the bed. She scooted up the little ladder onto the patchwork duvet and came face to face with the strangest creature she’d ever seen.

‘Argh!’ She drew in a sharp breath and kept as still as she could. It was lying in the middle of the bed and had huge pointy ears and a strange wrinkly head. The beast half-opened its green eyes and glared at her.

Clementine had no idea what it was. It sort of looked like a giant rat or maybe a cat, but it didn’t have any fur. The creature stared at her in a disgusted sort of way, just like the lady had looked at her when she had spilled the orange juice the week before.

Clementine gulped.

‘What are you doing in here?’ a voice demanded. Clementine Rose spun around to see Aunt Violet charging through the door. ‘You leave my Pharaoh alone,’ she growled.

‘I . . . I didn’t touch him, I promise,’ Clementine protested.

‘I told you before that he doesn’t like children.’ Violet strode towards the bed, her eyes scanning the room. ‘Have you been snooping through my things?’

Clementine shook her head. ‘No, of course not, Aunt Violet. Well, except that I saw your horse statue and some candlesticks and a clock. They must be very precious for you to bring them on holidays.’

‘You little sneak.’ Violet glimpsed the official-looking document poking out of the top of her handbag. The first words were: ‘Eviction Notice’. She walked over and stuffed it back inside, wondering if Clementine could yet read.

Clementine gulped.

‘Well, you shouldn’t be in here,’ Violet snapped.

‘What . . . what is he?’ Clementine asked.

‘What’s who?’ Violet replied.

‘Him.’ Clementine pointed at the creature on the bed.

‘He’s a sphynx,’ the old woman replied, rolling her eyes. ‘I told you that earlier. Or are your ears full of wax?’

‘No, Mummy cleans my ears every Thursday at bath time, except if I’m too tired and I don’t have a bath, and then she does it on Friday,’ Clementine said. ‘I know he’s a sphynx but what sort of creature is that?’

‘It’s a cat, of course, you silly child,’ said Violet, shaking her head.

Clementine had never seen a cat like it before and she knew quite a few. There was Claws at the village shop and her friend Sophie had a fluffy white kitten called Mintie. Her other friend Poppy had lots of cats on the farm at Highton Hall and none of them looked even the slightest bit like Pharaoh.

‘Is something wrong with him?’ Clementine asked.

‘Of course not.’ Violet reached into the middle of the bed and patted the cat’s wrinkly head.

‘But . . .’ Clementine wondered if she should tell Aunt Violet what she could see. Maybe the woman had something wrong with her eyesight as well as her hearing. Clementine decided that it was better to tell the truth. ‘He’s got no hair.’

‘He was born that way,’ Violet replied, as if it was the most usual thing in the world to have a bald cat. ‘My
bootiful
boy.’ Violet leaned across the bed and nuzzled against his face. The cat hissed at her.

Clementine wondered if Aunt Violet had taken him to the vet to see if there was a cure. Pharaoh was just about the ugliest creature she’d ever seen, apart from Father Bob’s dribbly bulldog, Adrian.

‘And what are you doing in my room, anyway?’ Violet asked, glaring at Clementine.

The child gulped. She seemed to be asked that question quite a lot. ‘I wanted to see what a sphynx was,’ she replied.

‘Well, now you have and I would thank you to stay out of
my
room, young lady.’ Violet walked to the door and held it open.

Clementine slid down from the bed and walked towards her.

Violet stared at the child with her pretty blonde hair and ink-blue eyes. There was something vaguely familiar about her, yet the woman knew that was impossible. She’d never heard of her before today, let alone seen her.