‘Well,’ Miss Critchley began, ‘I can’t believe it’s time for our final category: the Pet Most Like its Owner.’

All of the students and their pets, other than those entered in the last section, were now jammed in together at the front of the hall with parents and friends sitting on the rows of seats behind.

‘I love this part of the competition,’ Miss Critchley beamed. ‘It’s always a lot of fun. So, without any further ado, here are the entrants.’

The children and their pets filed across the stage. Among them were a girl from the fourth grade with blonde curls and her equally blonde curly-haired poodle; a lad from the sixth grade with slicked back hair holding a large skink in a terrarium; and a kindergarten boy with rather large ears, who was leading a basset hound. Another boy was wearing a dalmatian costume and holding the most adorable dalmatian puppy. Queen Georgiana was grinning broadly as she tried to decide on a winner.

No one noticed the unusual creature that had slunk onto the side of the stage. He padded along behind the group and emerged in the middle, between a girl with a guinea pig and a lad with a ferret.

The creature looked out at the audience with a sneer on its face.

Queen Georgiana caught her breath. ‘Oh my. Who do we have here?’

A little girl in the front row squealed, ‘There’s a monster. There’s a monster.’

‘Good lord, what is that?’ a man asked loudly from the middle of the hall.

The father with the dragon tattoo leapt to his feet and said, ‘Quick, get a cage before it bites someone and they turn into an alien too. I’ve read about those creatures. It’s dangerous for sure.’

Several of the parents charged forward. One of them grabbed a blanket from a toddler who was sitting with his mother. The little boy began to wail.

From the back of the hall, Aunt Violet caught sight of the commotion and gasped. Clementine did too. Lavender grunted.

‘Pharaoh! My baby!’ Aunt Violet exclaimed. ‘How on earth did you get here?’ The old woman rushed down the centre of the hall, sending children scattering this way and that. She elbowed the men who were racing towards the stage.

‘Get away from him,’ Aunt Violet roared. ‘Do not lay a hand on my baby or I’ll . . .’

‘Ah!’ yelled one of the men as he caught sight of Aunt Violet’s angry face. She was far more petrifying than the creature on the stage.

A little girl began to cry. ‘Mummy,’ she sobbed, ‘there’s a witch.’

‘No, that’s just Aunt Violet. She always looks like that,’ Clementine called in her great-aunt’s defence.

Aunt Violet reached the stage and pushed her way to the middle, where she scooped the cat into her arms. He looked at her and hissed.

‘What are you all looking at?’ she challenged the audience, who were now staring wide-eyed at the terrifying woman and her equally terrifying pet.

‘What is that?’ a lady called from the back row.

‘He’s a sphynx, you ridiculous woman. Everyone knows that,’ Aunt Violet hissed.

The audience members looked at one another and shrugged.

‘He’s lovely. You just have to get to know him, that’s all,’ Clementine announced.

‘He’s ugly, did you say?’ a man shouted.

As always, Queen Georgiana knew just how to break the tension.

‘I see we have a last-minute entrant,’ she said, nodding at Aunt Violet and then turning to face the audience, who laughed loudly.

Digby Pertwhistle leaned over to Lady Clarissa and whispered in her ear. ‘It looks like she’ll finally get her wish.’

Clarissa nodded, although she was feeling a little sorry for Aunt Violet.

‘To meet the Queen,’ Digby said.

‘Oh,’ Clarissa nodded.

‘I wonder how Pharaoh got here,’ Clementine said to Poppy and Sophie, who were sitting either side of her.

‘I don’t know, but your Aunt Violet doesn’t look very happy,’ Sophie replied.

‘Aunt Violet never looks very happy,’ Clementine said.

Aunt Violet stood on the stage, staring at the audience and wondering what they were giggling about. The cat hissed at her again. Aunt Violet sneered and hissed back at him. The audience hooted with laughter and so did Queen Georgiana.

In her light grey suit and oversized sunglasses, Aunt Violet bore more than a passing resemblance to Pharaoh.

‘I think we have our winner,’ Her Majesty declared. She took the blue rosette from the tray Mrs Marmalade was carrying behind her. ‘Excuse me, dear, do you know that lady’s name?’ Queen Georgiana whispered to Miss Critchley, who shook her head.

‘But we’re not . . .’ Violet began to protest. ‘You couldn’t possibly think . . .’

‘And the winner of the Pet Most Like its Owner goes to –’ Queen Georgiana turned towards Aunt Violet and looked at the cat. ‘Well, what’s his name?’

Violet gulped. ‘Pharaoh,’ she whispered.

‘And the winner is Pharaoh and his owner,’ Queen Georgiana announced. The audience went wild.