On Wednesday afternoon the group made their way through the streets of Paris back to the hotel. They had spent the whole day at the Palace of Versailles, just outside the city. Lavender had stayed behind with Madame Crabbe as there were no pigs allowed at the palace, but she didn’t seem to mind in the least. Lavender and Lulu were completely besotted with one another.

‘Why didn’t the king let the poor people live in the palace too?’ Clementine asked her mother as they tripped along the street. ‘There’s plenty of room.’

‘They were called peasants, Clemmie,’ Aunt Violet interjected. ‘I can hardly imagine that the king would have wanted his palace overrun with them. Could you imagine the smell?’

‘But Mr Smee always tells us that it’s better to share,’ Sophie said.

‘Exactly,’ Will agreed.

‘I think the king was being greedy and, anyway, they could have had a bath. There were plenty of bathrooms too,’ Clementine said.

Drew and Clarissa looked at one another and laughed. ‘It’s nice to see the children have a well-developed sense of social justice,’ Drew said with a grin.

‘It was different back then,’ Aunt Violet insisted. ‘People were born to a particular class and you didn’t get much choice about it.’

‘Mummy says people can be anything they want to be, and France is probably a much better place since the peasants decided to eat cake,’ Clementine said.

‘What on earth are you talking about now, Clemmie?’ Aunt Violet said, shaking her head. ‘Queen Marie Antoinette famously said, “Let them eat cake”, but she had no idea that the peasants couldn’t afford it. She was being obnoxious.’

‘Now everyone in Paris eats cake,’ Clementine said. ‘Look how busy Pierre is all the time. So it’s much better these days.’

‘We can have cake when we get home,’ Jules said, nodding.

The children were looking forward to having a sleepover at the Rousseau residence that night. Drew had planned a special evening with Clarissa, including a surprise dinner at the restaurant at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Once they arrived back at the hotel, Clementine waited in the foyer while her mother packed an overnight bag for her and Will. The others had gone ahead to the Rousseaus’ to escape the cold.

‘How did you enjoy the palace?’ Monsieur Crabbe asked Clementine.

‘It was very grand,’ she replied, ‘and there was lots of gold and mirrors everywhere. They must have really liked looking at themselves back then.’

Clementine went on to regale Monsieur Crabbe with her assessment of the French royal family and what she thought they should have done to prevent the revolution.

The man laughed heartily and nodded his head. ‘Perhaps if we had Queen Clementine back then, we would not have had such terrible trouble.’

Clementine giggled as she imagined herself living in that enormous palace. ‘I think being the queen might be a bit boring.’

Monsieur Crabbe agreed, and their conversation turned to what else Clementine had seen in the city.

It wasn’t long before Lady Clarissa reappeared with a small suitcase, just as Madame Crabbe trotted into the hotel foyer with Lulu and Lavender.

‘I am sorry but we have had so many admirers on our walk,’ Camille puffed, passing Lavender’s lead to Clementine. ‘I tell you, this little one will soon be the most beloved cochon in all of Paris.’

Clementine nodded. ‘Madame Delacroix said Lavender will be on television when we take her to the puppet show.’

‘Well, then you will have to fight off the fans with a stick,’ the woman said.

‘Lavender won’t mind one bit,’ Clementine said, picking up the little pig, who snuggled into her coat.