The children and their parents were ushered into the small school hall, which also doubled as the gymnasium. Clementine sat next to her mother with Sophie on the other side and Poppy along further. There were twenty children starting in the kindergarten class. Miss Critchley approached the microphone and welcomed the students and their parents.

Clementine was busy studying the young woman’s outfit. Today she had on a dark blue blouse with a bow at the front and a pair of grey pants. Her hair was pulled back softly from her face. Clementine still thought she was the most beautiful lady she’d ever seen.

‘Now, I know that some of you might be sitting there with a few butterflies in your tummy,’ said Miss Critchley with a kind smile at the group. ‘But let me assure you, that’s absolutely normal. I imagine you’re a little bit nervous and a little bit excited all in one.’

Clementine nodded. So did lots of the other children. Miss Critchley definitely knew a lot about kindergartners, Clementine thought to herself.

‘I just need to go through some of the school procedures so that we all know what we’re doing and then I will introduce you to your class teacher.’

Clementine wondered if she’d misheard her. Wasn’t Miss Critchley going to be their teacher? She didn’t want to have anyone else.

‘In the afternoon, all of the students will wait for their parents at the school gate under the supervision of a teacher, unless of course you live here in the village. If so, you can walk home and perhaps in the future you might like to ride your bike to and from school . . .’

Clementine wasn’t listening. She was wondering who was going to be their teacher. The butterflies in her tummy now seemed to be having a boxing match. She didn’t like this one bit.

‘We encourage parents to come along and help with reading and other activities in the classroom . . .’

Clementine’s eyes darted around the room, looking for the person who could be their teacher. There was a man in the front row. He had greasy hair and the tail of a dragon tattoo poking out from his shirt sleeve. But then she saw a little girl sitting beside him and guessed he was one of the fathers. There was a lady with blonde hair at the far end. Perhaps it was her.

‘And now I’d like to introduce Mrs Ethel Bottomley, who’ll be teaching the kindergarten class this year. Mrs Bottomley has many years of experience and is an excellent educator. I know she’s looking forward to working with you all.’

Clementine’s stomach lurched as she looked up and saw a short woman wearing a drab brown check jacket and matching skirt heading for the microphone. Mrs Bottomley’s low-heeled brown shoes clacked on the timber floor and were just about the ugliest things Clementine had ever seen. A helmet of brown curls perched on top of her head and Clementine thought they reminded her of someone else.

‘Good morning, parents and children, my name is Ethel Bottomley.’ She spoke with a very strange voice. It was whispery but posh at the same time. ‘We all know that kindergarten is a very important time in every child’s life. It’s a time to shake off the playful habits of youth and start some serious study. Rest assured there will be time for fun – orderly fun, of course. And parents, please know that I have high standards and very high expectations. The children will not be spoiled under my care.’ The old woman grinned, revealing a row of yellowed teeth.

Clementine recoiled in her seat.

‘But I don’t want her,’ she whispered to her mother.

‘Clementine, I’m sure that Mrs Bottomley is perfectly lovely. You just need to get to know her,’ her mother whispered back. But Clarissa felt a little uncertain too. Mrs Bottomley wasn’t quite what she had in mind when she pictured her daughter’s kindergarten teacher either.

Miss Critchley returned to the microphone. ‘Thank you, Mrs Bottomley. Now we should be getting to class, children. Please say goodbye to your parents and follow Mrs Bottomley to the door.’

Clementine felt as if there was a wedge of bread stuck in her throat.

‘Goodbye, Clemmie, have a lovely day,’ said Clarissa, as she blinked back a tear. She’d been determined not to cry but she hadn’t imagined how hard it would be to see her baby starting school.

Clementine clung to her mother. She didn’t want to let go.

Sophie reached for her hand. ‘Come on.’

‘No.’ Clementine felt the sting of tears prickling her eyes.

‘Clemmie, it’s all right,’ her friend Poppy tried.

‘You have to go, sweetheart. It will be lots of fun,’ her mother said. She tried to prise loose Clemmie’s arms, which were clamped firmly around her middle.

Arabella Critchley noticed her reluctant student and approached the group.

‘Hello Clementine, it’s lovely to see you.’ She crouched down to meet the child’s gaze. Clementine’s blue eyes looked like pools of wet ink. ‘Do you want to come with me?’

Clementine shook her head.

‘I don’t know what’s got into her,’ whispered Lady Clarissa as Miss Critchley stood up. ‘She’s been looking forward to school for weeks. It’s been a battle to get her to wear anything other than her uniform.’

The rest of the class was now standing at the door in two higgledy-piggledy lines.

‘Kindergarten, let’s see if we can straighten up. Now!’ Mrs Bottomley barked.

The children snapped to attention and the lines became perfectly parallel under her outstretched arms.

‘Clementine, why don’t I take you to class?’ Miss Critchley tried again.

Clementine didn’t know why she was holding onto her mother. She’d been so excited about school and now Sophie and Poppy were going to start without her.

‘Is that little one going to join us?’ Mrs Bottomley called from the front of the line. ‘Or is she having a bit of a sook?’

‘We’ll be along in a minute,’ Miss Critchley replied firmly. She brushed a rogue strand of hair away from Clementine’s face.

Clementine felt silly. She wanted to go with the rest of her class. She didn’t want to be last and she didn’t want to be called a sook.

‘You know, Clementine, on my first day of school I didn’t want to go either. My older brother had told me all sorts of terrible stories and I was scared stiff,’ Miss Critchley explained.

‘What stories?’ Clementine whispered.

‘He told me that the headmaster had a secret cupboard full of canes and that he walked around the school whacking children willy-nilly,’ said Miss Critchley. ‘And you know what? None of it was true. He’d only said it to make me afraid and he succeeded. Is there anything you’re afraid of?’

‘I thought you were going to be my teacher,’ Clementine said, frowning. ‘I don’t want Mrs Bottom.’

‘You mean Mrs Bottomley, Clementine, and I can assure you that her bark is much worse than her bite. She comes across as being a bit stern but she’s a big squishy marshmallow underneath,’ Miss Critchley explained.

‘A big squishy brown marshmallow,’ Clementine whispered.

‘What do you mean?’ Miss Critchley asked.

‘It must be her favourite colour,’ Clementine said.

‘Oh,’ Miss Critchley smiled. She realised that Clementine was referring to Mrs Bottomley’s clothes. ‘That’s right, you were quite the stylish young lady when you came for your interview and you asked me about my dress.’

Clementine’s eyes sparkled and she seemed to perk up.

‘Shall we go to class?’ The head teacher asked. Clementine released her mother from the vice-like grip and put her hand into Miss Critchley’s. They headed for the door.

Suddenly Clemmie ran back and gave Lady Clarissa a final hug. ‘Bye Mummy!’

‘See you this afternoon, Clemmie, and have a wonderful day,’ Lady Clarissa sniffed.