Clementine raced along the hallway and into the kitchen.

‘Uncle Digby, Lavender, I got a sticker,’ she called, grinning proudly.

Digby Pertwhistle was in the kitchen making a pot of tea. Clementine almost collided with him as he turned from the bench.

‘Steady on, young lady,’ Digby smiled at her. Clementine wrapped her arms around his middle. ‘Sounds like school was much improved today.’

‘Yes, it was wonderful. I got a sticker and we’re having a pet day too,’ Clementine fizzed.

Digby leaned down and whispered into Clemmie’s ear. ‘You might want to say hello to your Aunt Violet. She’s sitting at the table.’

The child released the old man from her grip and ran towards Aunt Violet, who was surveying the scene with her crimson lips pursed.

‘Hello Aunt Violet.’ Clementine noticed that she was wearing a very stylish blue top over a pair of crisp white linen pants. ‘I like your outfit. Did you have a good holiday?’

‘Yes, it was . . . splendid, actually,’ the old woman said, as if she was surprised by her own answer.

‘That’s good. I hoped you’d come back in a better mood than when you left,’ Clementine said.

Uncle Digby coughed.

‘I mean, I hoped that all that time in the sea air would make you feel happier,’ Clementine tried again.

‘Really?’ Her great-aunt shot her a frosty stare. ‘Am I not a picture of contentment?’

Clementine wasn’t sure what she meant but she nodded anyway.

‘Pharaoh’s been a good boy and he and Lavender love each other so much. You know they sleep in the same basket almost every night, except when Pharaoh sleeps down here in front of the stove. Sometimes he curls up on my pillow and he cuddles me,’ Clementine prattled.

‘Yes, well, he can come back to the Rose Room now,’ Aunt Violet commented.

‘But Mummy said that you’re having the Blue Room up near me,’ Clementine replied.

Lady Clarissa entered the kitchen. She’d been dragging Aunt Violet’s luggage upstairs. The woman seemed to have enough clothes to start her own department store.

Aunt Violet looked at her niece. ‘Is that true, Clarissa?’

Clarissa straightened her shoulders and looked her aunt right in the eye. ‘I’m afraid, Aunt Violet, that I need the Rose Room for paying guests. It’s the best by far and the one I use to advertise the hotel. The Blue Room is perfectly lovely too and I’ve just bought a new duvet for your bed.’

‘I don’t know why you have to open our home to strangers,’ the old woman scowled.

‘Unless you’d like us all to be living in a tent on the Penberthy Floss Fields, that’s something you’re just going to have to get used to,’ Clarissa replied. She looked towards Digby. He winked at her.

‘But I don’t want to share a bathroom,’ Violet moaned. ‘It’s not . . . It’s not civilised.’

‘I’m afraid it’s something we all have to do,’ Clarissa replied. ‘And it’s hardly a great sacrifice.’

‘But I’ll have to share my bathroom with . . .’ She paused and then sneered, ‘the child.’

‘It’s all right, Aunt Violet. I don’t take very long in there because I don’t like the bathtub very much. It prickles my bottom. Mummy says that if she wins another bathroom makeover she’ll get it fixed up but who knows when that will happen.’

Everyone knew about Lady Clarissa’s love of competitions. She entered loads of them and had an uncanny knack for winning too. Over the years she’d won everything from a new car to a kitchen makeover, white goods and most recently a three-month round-the-world cruise, from which Aunt Violet had just returned.

‘Well, I suppose the Blue Room will have to do,’ Aunt Violet huffed.

‘It will be fun, Aunt Violet,’ Clementine commented. ‘I can come and visit you with Lavender.’

‘For heaven’s sake, don’t bring that pig anywhere near me, or my room,’ Aunt Violet retorted.

‘But if you get to know her, I’m sure that you’ll love Lavender as much as I do, and Pharaoh adores her.’ Clementine leaned down under the table. ‘I think she likes you anyway,’ she said, popping her head back up, ‘because she’s under your chair.’

Aunt Violet’s feet shot off the floor so her legs stuck straight out.

‘Remove the pig this minute!’ she demanded.

Clementine put a finger to her lips. ‘Shh. Lavender’s asleep and she doesn’t like being woken up when she’s having her afternoon nap. She doesn’t bite, you know.’

Aunt Violet simply said ‘hmmph’ and turned to Pharoah, who was preening himself at the back door. ‘Come here, precious,’ she called.

Pharaoh strolled across the kitchen floor, stopped at Aunt Violet’s feet and stared up at her.

Aunt Violet relaxed her ridiculous pose and patted her lap.

Pharaoh studied his mistress for another moment. Then he flicked his tail and padded to the other side of the table where he leapt into Clementine’s lap. He nuzzled her face and began to purr like a sports car engine.

‘I see,’ Aunt Violet harrumphed. ‘That’s where I stand these days.’

‘He always sits in my lap at afternoon tea time,’ Clementine said. The cat kneaded her legs like bread dough before finding a comfortable position.

‘I hope you haven’t brainwashed him to forget me,’ Aunt Violet said.

Clementine frowned. She’d never heard of anyone washing their brain before. ‘Are you going to bring him to the pet day?’ she asked. ‘I’m taking Lavender and I’m going to enter her in everything.’

‘I hardly think so.’ Aunt Violet shook her head. ‘Pharaoh’s far too precious to mix with the village riffraff.’

‘But we’re giving the money to Queen Georgiana’s animals.’

At the mention of Queen Georgiana’s name, Violet’s ears pricked up. ‘Will she be there?’

‘Oh, yes. Miss Critchley said that she’s coming to judge the competition,’ Clementine replied. ‘That was part of the big surprise and the reason we have to have the pet day so soon.’

‘Fancy that,’ said Uncle Digby. ‘You’ve always wanted to meet her, haven’t you, Miss Appleby. Didn’t you invite her to a party once?’

Aunt Violet eyeballed him. ‘Of course not, Pertwhistle, don’t be so ridiculous.’

‘I can’t wait to meet her,’ said Clementine. ‘I’m going to practise my curtseys. And I’m going to teach Lavender how to curtsey too.’

‘What a lot of nonsense,’ Aunt Violet snapped. ‘Now hurry up and pour that tea before it’s stone cold.’

Lady Clarissa exchanged a puzzled look with Digby.

‘So,’ said Aunt Violet before either of them could speak. ‘You must tell me, Clarissa, are there any ghastly guests booked in to stay here over the weekend?’