Clementine Rose and the Perfect Present 3 (3 page)

A row of lines puckered the man’s forehead.

‘You said, “Let the magic begin”,’ Clementine reminded him.

‘Yes, yes, I suppose I am a magician of sorts.

Just give me a couple of hours and this tent will go from drab to fab. This wedding is going to be perfect with some magic from Sebastian. That’s me, of course. Sebastian Smote at your service.’ He rolled his hand and made a bow.

Clementine giggled. ‘You’re funny.’

‘I am here to entertain,’ Sebastian replied. ‘But dear little girl and dear little piggy, might I suggest that you pop outside to play? When you return, you will not recognise this place, I assure you.’

Clementine would rather have stayed put and watched the magic happen, but she could hear her mother calling her.

Lady Clarissa poked her head inside the entrance. ‘I thought you’d be here, Clemmie. Come along and let Mr Smote do his work. It’s time for lunch.’

‘Goodbye,’ Clementine said with a wave. ‘I can’t wait to see what your magic looks like.’

The man grinned at her, and then hurried away to direct the delivery of an enormous chandelier.

‘No, no, no!’ he called as there was a loud crash.

‘I love weddings,’ Clementine enthused as she and her mother walked back to the house, with Lavender a few steps behind. ‘Even though I’ve never been to one before.’

‘I just hope it goes smoothly,’ said Lady Clarissa. She smiled tensely at her daughter. She’d had at least ten calls that morning from the bride’s mother, a pushy woman called Roberta Fox. The last call was about the colour of the soap in the bathrooms. Lady Clarissa had been wondering if she’d made the right decision about having the wedding.

There was also the small challenge of Aunt Violet, who could always be relied upon to upset someone. Lady Clarissa had employed half the village to help with the arrangements and Mr Smote was in charge of making sure it all came together, so with any luck Aunt Violet would stay right out of the way. If it all went well, Lady Clarissa hoped she’d be able to pay for a new roof for Penberthy House without selling the Appleby family jewels after all.

‘When will the guests come?’ Clemmie asked.

‘Everyone’s due to arrive this evening,’ her mother replied. ‘I know you’re looking forward to it, Clemmie, but you must remember that
we’re
not guests. You can look from a distance but please don’t get in the way.’

Clementine nodded. ‘I just want to help. And see the bride, of course.’

‘Yes, I know you do. It’s very important that we get this right. A wedding is one of the biggest events in anyone’s life and I want to make sure that the bride and groom have only happy memories of their special day at Penberthy House,’ her mother explained.

‘Well, you’d better keep Aunt Violet out of the way because she doesn’t make anyone very happy,’ Clementine said seriously.

‘I think she’s been trying harder, don’t you?’ her mother asked, raising her eyebrows.

‘Maybe.’ Clemmie shrugged. ‘I like when she reads to me. But she was cross about Pharaoh sleeping in my room with Lavender. I told her that she could take Lavender’s basket and borrow them for the night and then she said “ick” and pulled a cranky face. But I think she’s only pretending. I saw her giving Lavender a scratch the other morning, but when I asked what she was doing she said Lavender was being a nuisance and she was shooing her downstairs.’

Lady Clarissa stifled a grin. ‘Never mind, Clemmie. Now, I have lots of jobs to finish this afternoon. Let’s get some lunch and then perhaps you can play in your room for a while.’

Lavender grunted as if to agree.

‘Okay,’ Clemmie replied and squeezed her mother’s hand.

Clementine climbed onto a chair opposite her great-aunt at the kitchen table.

‘Hello Aunt Violet.’

‘Hmph.’ The woman didn’t look up from the newspaper she was reading.

‘Are you excited?’ Clementine asked.

Aunt Violet ignored the child completely and kept on reading.

Clementine pinched her forefingers and thumbs together and held them in the air. ‘Aren’t you just a l-i-i-i-i-ttle bit excited, Aunt Violet?’

Violet Appleby sighed. She folded the newspaper in half and placed it on the table. ‘And what exactly should I be excited about? The fact that we’re about to be overrun by people I don’t care to meet or that there’s rain forecast for tomorrow? Mmm?’

Clementine frowned at her great-aunt. ‘The wedding. I’m so excited about the wedding and seeing the bride in her beautiful dress. I’m not sure which dress I’ll wear tomorrow. I can’t decide between my favourite red one and the yellow one Mrs Mogg made me for Christmas last year.’

‘Clarissa, the child does realise that she’s not
invited
to this ghastly occasion, doesn’t she?’ Aunt Violet looked at her niece, who was standing at the bench cutting Clementine’s cheese sandwich into triangles.

‘Of course, Aunt Violet. Clemmie’s just excited. We’ve never had a wedding at the house before and you have to admit, it’s always lovely to see a bride on her special day.’ Clarissa arranged Clemmie’s lunch on a plate and set it down in front of her.

‘I can’t think of anything worse,’ Aunt Violet said with a sneer.

Digby Pertwhistle had been listening to the conversation while he filled the kettle at the sink. He turned and looked at Aunt Violet. ‘That’s strange, Miss Appleby.’

‘Why do you say that?’ she asked.

‘I thought you must love weddings. Haven’t you had four of them?’

‘Four!’ Clementine looked at her great-aunt. ‘Have you been a bride four times?’

‘Frankly, that’s none of your business,’ snapped Aunt Violet. ‘And I’ll thank you not to bring up the subject ever again, Pertwhistle.’

‘You must have been beautiful, Aunt Violet,’ Clementine said. ‘Especially if you looked like the lady in the painting on the stairs.’

Aunt Violet sniffed. ‘Yes, well, I suppose I was rather an attractive young woman.’

‘Can you tell me about your dresses?’

Clementine asked. ‘Did you wear a white gown?’

‘Several, I should think,’ Uncle Digby muttered under his breath. Lady Clarissa nudged him.

‘Clementine, we are not talking about it. Eat your lunch,’ Aunt Violet ordered.

Clementine reluctantly turned her attention to the sandwich on her plate. After a couple of bites she looked up and saw that Aunt Violet was staring at her.

‘Would you like some?’ Clementine held out a triangle.

‘Heavens no. I’ll have my own, thank you. That’s if anyone could be bothered making me one.’

‘What would you like, Aunt Violet?’ Clarissa asked.

‘Ham and a hint of mustard and some tomato and cheese. Oh, and some of that lovely egg mayonnaise that you make so well.’

‘It won’t be long,’ Clarissa sighed. Her patience for Aunt Violet and her demands was wearing thin, particularly as Clarissa had so many things to do before the guests arrived. ‘Aunt Violet?’

‘Yes.’

‘Digby and I have a lot of jobs to finish this afternoon. Would you mind popping down to Mrs Mogg’s and getting a few things for me? And I haven’t collected the mail from yesterday, either.’

‘I’ll come too. We can take Lavender for a walk. She loves going to the village,’ Clementine added.

‘I don’t think so. I’m awfully tired. I was planning to have a rest this afternoon,’ Aunt Violet replied bluntly.

‘It’s all right, Clarissa. I’ll go.’ Digby patted the young woman on the arm. He hadn’t been feeling one hundred per cent himself, but it didn’t seem fair for Lady Clarissa to have to run this errand.

‘You’ve got more to do than I have,’ Lady Clarissa protested. ‘Really, Aunt Violet, we’ve all got to pitch in.’

‘You don’t have to use that tone with me, Clarissa,’ Aunt Violet barked. She pressed her palm to her forehead. ‘I can feel one of my headaches coming on.’

The old woman stood up.

‘Where are you going, Aunt Violet?’ Clementine asked.

‘To my room. Not that it’s any of your business.’ She walked towards the back stairs. ‘You can bring my lunch up when it’s ready, Clarissa. And I’d like some tea too. Come, Pharaoh.’

Aunt Violet’s sphynx cat had been sleeping in the basket in front of the fire. He arched his back and meowed loudly, before padding over to where Lavender was sitting. He began to lick the side of the little pig’s face.

‘Urgh. I said come.’ Aunt Violet glared at the cat, which ignored her completely. ‘Have it your way, then. I think you’ve been infected by that ghastly pig.’

She stomped upstairs and out of sight.

‘Lavender’s not ghastly,’ Clementine whispered as she disappeared. ‘You are!’

Her mother and Uncle Digby remained silent, but they were both thinking exactly the same thing.

After lunch, Digby Pertwhistle met Clementine and Lavender at the back door. A chill wind had sprung up and Clementine had put on her favourite pink coat and long snuggly boots with lamb’s wool lining.

Uncle Digby grabbed his scarf and coat from the rack beside the door and the trio set off for the village, armed with Lady Clarissa’s list.

‘Don’t forget the mail,’ she called after them.

The garden was quiet but inside the marquee was a hive of activity, with Mr Smote and his assistants in the midst of their decorating. Two large stone lions now guarded the entrance to the tent.

‘Look at those!’ Clementine gasped. ‘How did they get there?’

Uncle Digby pointed to a little tabletop truck with a crane on the back. ‘I think that’s how.’

‘People go to a lot of trouble for weddings, don’t they?’ Clementine marvelled as she hung back, trying to get another glimpse inside the marquee.

‘Come along, Clemmie, we’d best hurry up. I still have some polishing to finish when we get back.’ The old man lengthened his stride and Clemmie and Lavender ran to catch up.

Even though she’d almost put Angus’s party completely out of her mind, Clementine couldn’t help wondering if there might be some mail for her at the store.

By the time they crossed the stream and passed the church to arrive at Mrs Mogg’s store, Uncle Digby was completely out of breath.

‘Are you all right?’ Clementine asked as he sat down heavily on the bench outside.

‘Yes, yes, just a bit tired. Must be old age catching up with me.’ He smiled reassuringly at Clementine as she tied Lavender’s lead to one of the chair legs.