By midday on Sunday the guests had all departed, except Aunt Violet, who had vanished after breakfast, leaving a trail of belongings strewn around the Rose Room.

Clementine was helping her mother take the sheets off the guest beds and wondering how long it would be until Sophie and Jules arrived. ‘Where’s Uncle Digby?’ she asked.

‘He’s in the library. He said he wanted to give the place a spring clean,’ Clarissa explained.

‘Uncle Digby works hard, doesn’t he, Mummy?’ said Clementine.

‘Yes, he does. We’re lucky to have him,’ her mother said with a nod.

‘I’ve been thinking,’ Clementine began.

‘Uh-oh,’ Clarissa smiled.

‘It’s nothing bad, Mummy. I was just wondering if we can have a camp-out tonight.’

Her mother frowned. ‘But where do you want to camp this time?’ When Clementine, Sophie and Jules last had a ‘camp-out’, it was in the front sitting room under a giant tent made from bedsheets, on a floor of cushions.

Clementine thought for a moment. They all liked camping in the Rose Room, where they could turn the four-poster bed into a giant tent. But that was off limits because Aunt Violet was there.

‘Can we camp in the attic?’ Clementine asked.

‘No, Clemmie, it’s jam-packed with all sorts of things and I think you might find it a little on the creepy side,’ her mother replied. Clarissa didn’t like going up there in the middle of the day, let alone the thought of staying there all night.

‘What about the library?’ Clementine suggested.

‘Perfect,’ her mother said. ‘And at least there won’t be any dust, either.’

Clementine loved the library. It was one of her favourite rooms in the whole house.

‘Why don’t you go and get some pillows from the linen press and take them downstairs,’ her mother suggested. ‘I can finish up here.’

Clementine nodded. ‘Come on, Lavender,’ she called to the tiny pig, who was snuffling about under the bed. ‘We’ve got to get your basket and blanket and all the duvets and at least one hundred pillows.’

Clarissa smiled to herself. She couldn’t imagine how dull her life would have been without Clementine.

Clementine dragged piles of pillows and duvets downstairs to the library where Digby Pertwhistle was almost finished cleaning.

After their second run, Lavender stayed behind and settled in for a nap under one of the armchairs.

As Clementine charged up the back stairs to her bedroom, she caught sight of Aunt Violet coming out of the room. She was tucking something sparkly into the pocket of her trousers.

‘Hello Aunt Violet,’ Clementine called. ‘Were you looking for me?’

The old woman shot into the air and spun around.

‘Good heavens, child, do you make a habit of sneaking up on people or do you reserve that especially for me?’ she snarled.

‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘Well, you did. And no, I wasn’t looking for you,’ Violet said with a small snort of disbelief.

‘But you were in my room,’ Clementine said, remembering how cross Aunt Violet had been when she had visited the Rose Room.

‘It was my room, actually, when I was a girl. And I was just looking,’ Violet replied.

‘Did you like it?’ Clementine asked.

‘No, it was much prettier when it was mine. But I suppose we could always fix it up to the way it should be. Perhaps I’d like to have it again.’

‘But it’s my room now,’ Clementine said.

‘You could move,’ said Violet. ‘This is a big house.’

Clementine wondered what her great-aunt was talking about. She wasn’t moving out of her room.

‘Are you staying for a long time, Aunt Violet?’ Clementine asked.

‘That depends. Has Pertwhistle finished in the library yet?’ the old woman demanded.

‘No. Uncle Digby’s doing a spring clean and they take ages and then my friends are coming to stay for the night and we’re having a camp-out,’ Clementine explained.

‘What friends?’ asked Violet.

‘Sophie and Jules. They live in Highton Mill. Their father Pierre makes all of those lovely cakes you like to eat,’ Clementine prattled.

‘Village children?’ Violet frowned. ‘Don’t you have any more suitable friends?’

Clementine was puzzled. ‘I don’t know what you mean, Aunt Violet.’

‘I’m exhausted,’ the woman declared. ‘Tell your mother to bring me a cup of tea in my room. I’ve got a headache coming on.’

Clementine watched as her great-aunt strode along the hallway to the main staircase. Surely she couldn’t take her room away. Grandpa would have something to say about that.