Clementine Rose and the Surprise Visitor 1 (5 page)

‘Off you go,’ said Violet. ‘I have things to do, and talking to you is not one of them.’

Clementine smiled at the old woman. She had a habit of doing that when she was nervous.

‘What are you grinning about?’ Violet demanded.

‘Nothing, Aunt Violet, nothing at all,’ said Clementine, and scurried out the door.

A
fter her visit with Pharaoh and Aunt Violet, Clementine Rose decided to find her mother and Uncle Digby and warn them about the bald sphynx. She wondered if they might have some ideas about a cure.

Clementine was on her way to the kitchen when she was distracted by a man. She heard him before she saw him – the loudest grunting snores ever. That was saying something because there had been plenty of snorers taking naps in the sitting room over the years. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she saw him in the winged armchair by the fireplace, with his head tilted back and his mouth wide open.

Clementine decided to take a closer look. She tiptoed into the room and stood beside the chair, resting her elbows on the arm with her head cradled in her hands. She thought he must be quite old. His forehead and cheeks were lined like crinkle-cut chips, and the skin on his neck hung loose, just like on the turkey Mr Mogg was keeping before last Christmas.

His hands were resting in his lap and she noticed they had lots of tan spots on them. Clementine liked watching the way the long hairs that stuck out of his nostrils fluttered in time with his breaths.

She glanced up at his hair. Most of the older men Clementine knew had grey or silver hair, like Mr Mogg and Father Bob, or not very much at all, like Uncle Digby. He just had a few long strands that he combed over the top and kept in place with some goo from a jar. This man’s hair was dark orange and there was something not quite right about the way it was sitting. Clementine stood up on her tippy-toes and reached out to touch the thick crop. Her finger pressed against it gently. The man snorted loudly and she jumped back. Clemmie held her breath but his eyes stayed firmly shut. She wanted to touch his hair again – it felt rough, like the soap pad Uncle Digby used to scrub the saucepans. She reached up and stretched out her hand but just as she did, something terrible happened. As she made contact with the hair, it slid right off the top of his head and onto the floor.

Clemmie clutched her hands to her mouth. She’d never seen anyone’s hair fall off like that before. The orange mop lay on the floor like a flat ginger cat. Clementine leaned down to get a closer look. She didn’t want to touch it any more but somehow she had to get it back on top of the man’s head.

Clementine gripped it between her pointer finger and thumb and lifted it up slowly. Just as the hair was level with the top of the man’s head, a fly began to buzz around his left ear. And right at the same time Clementine was about to deposit the hair back onto his head, the man stirred and swatted at the fly. He missed and flicked his hair right into the fireplace, where it erupted into flames and burnt away to nothing in seconds.

Clementine stood perfectly still and held her breath. She wondered if she could make him some new hair and tape it to his shiny head before he woke up. She remembered her old toy orangutan. Then she remembered that she’d lost it at her friend Poppy’s house.

Maybe the man wouldn’t notice. Maybe he had some more hair in his suitcase that he could wear instead. Maybe it would grow back before he woke up.

Clementine was staring at the man and wondering what to do, when out of the corner of her eye she saw a reflection of something moving in the mirror above the fireplace. It was just a flash but she knew that there was someone else in the room. The sitting room was shaped like a capital ‘L’, with another entrance from the back hallway. Clementine wondered if whoever it was had seen what happened with the man and his hair.

She decided to see who was there and tiptoed past the long floral sofa and the china cabinet to investigate. Clementine leaned around the corner in slow motion.

‘Oh!’ she gasped. Sticking up in the air was a bottom and it was attached to Aunt Violet. The old woman was down on her hands and knees with her head under the green velvet grandfather chair.

Clementine watched for a moment.

‘Hello Aunt Violet,’ she whispered.

There was a dull thud as Violet thwacked her head on the underside of the chair.

‘Ow!’ the woman grumbled as she wriggled out. ‘You again!’

‘Have you lost something?’ Clementine asked.

‘No, of course not.’ Violet stood up and smoothed the front of her trousers. ‘Have you?’ She arched an eyebrow menacingly.

Clementine wondered if Aunt Violet had seen what happened to the man and his hair. She shook her head slowly.

She knew that she should tell the truth. It was just that, at the moment, she didn’t quite know how. And after all, it was an accident.

Aunt Violet looked at Clementine and sniffed. Then she turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

Clementine tiptoed back towards the man without the hair. He was still fast asleep. She decided that the best plan was to find Uncle Digby and tell him the truth. He would know what to do.

C
lementine Rose found Digby Pert-whistle in the dining room, setting the huge mahogany table for dinner.

‘Hello Clemmie,’ he said. ‘What have you been up to now?’

Clementine gulped. She wondered if Uncle Digby had special powers. He always seemed to know when there was trouble about.

‘Nothing much,’ she replied, not quite ready to talk about the burnt hair. ‘I met Aunt Violet’s sphynx.’

‘Oh, yes, and what sort of a creature is this sphynx?’ Digby asked.

‘Aunt Violet says that he’s a cat but he’s the strangest looking cat I’ve ever seen. He’s got no hair,’ Clementine explained. ‘But I don’t think she can see that.’

Digby considered this. ‘Interesting.’

‘He’s not interesting,’ Clementine replied. ‘He’s ugly.’

‘Perhaps he has a special personality,’ said Digby.

Clementine shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. He even hissed at Aunt Violet.’

‘Sounds like a smart cat if you ask me,’ said Digby, his lips twitching. He continued putting the cutlery in place.

‘Uncle Digby, I need to tell you something,’ said Clementine. She took a small step closer to the man, then another, until she stood right beside him.

He turned and bent down to meet her gaze. ‘Uh-oh. What have you done now, Clementine?’

‘Well,’ she began, ‘I didn’t mean to but it just sort of happened.’

‘I have to get some wine from the cellar,’ said Digby. ‘Why don’t you come with me and you can explain on the way.’

Clementine nodded.

On the evenings they had guests, Clementine, her mother and Digby Pertwhistle usually ate in the kitchen before the meal was served. But tonight Clarissa wasn’t quite sure what to do. Aunt Violet wasn’t a paying guest but she was expecting to be served in the dining room.

After his visit to the cellar with Clementine, Digby Pertwhistle was as puzzled by what to do about the man and his missing hair as Clementine was.

She hadn’t realised exactly how tricky a subject hair was. When her mother told her that they would be eating in the dining room with Aunt Violet and the guests, Clementine asked if she could have dinner with Uncle Digby instead.

‘No, Clemmie,’ her mother replied. ‘I need you to be charming to everyone and hopefully Aunt Violet will behave herself. Digby, I hope you don’t mind serving all of us tonight.’

‘Of course not, my dear. Although perhaps if you made Violet eat her dinner out here in the kitchen with us as we usually do, she might pack her bags and head for home,’ Digby suggested.

‘I had thought of that,’ said Clarissa, ‘but I don’t want her making a fuss and upsetting the guests, which she’s sure to do if we leave her out here. She still doesn’t know that we run the house as a hotel. She’s such a terrible snob. I can’t imagine she’ll be pleased when she finds out. Mrs Mogg is coming to help with dinner so I can look after Aunt Violet. And I
still
don’t know why she’s here. She won’t give me a straight answer.’

‘Maybe she wants to make up and be friends,’ Clementine suggested. ‘And give you a present. She has lots of things in her suitcase.’

‘
How
do you know what she has in her suitcase?’ asked Clarissa, casting her daughter a stern look. ‘I hope you haven’t been snooping, young lady.’

Clementine shook her head. ‘I went to visit her and her bag was open and she has candlesticks and a clock and even a bronze statue of a horse.’

‘Really? Why would she bring all of that with her?’ Clarissa bit her lip and looked thoughtful, then shook herself and said, ‘Anyway, Clementine, run along and put on a fresh dress and then come straight back down to the dining room. And no more spying.’

Clementine nodded. ‘I’m going to wear my green stripes with the pink cardigan. Can Lavender come too?’

‘Oh no, Clemmie, not tonight. Make sure that she has a fresh bowl of water and her litter box is clean and I’ll take her up some pellets,’ her mother instructed. ‘I don’t think Lavender would improve Aunt Violet’s mood at all.’

The child skipped off up the back stairs that led from the kitchen to the upper levels. She opened her bedroom door and found Lavender pushing a little ball all over the floor. The pig squealed when she saw her mistress.