‘That was fun.’ Clementine beamed at her mother and Uncle Digby as they ate their morning tea outside. ‘I’m so proud of Lavender and Pharaoh and Aunt Violet too.’

Her great-aunt did not feel the same way at all. She had been standing behind a tree, quietly nibbling a piece of Pierre’s delicious chocolate cake and doing her best to stay out of sight. But she’d been cornered by Father Bob, who’d come to collect Adrian, his dribbly bulldog. He was congratulating her loudly on the win with Pharaoh, who was now safely locked away in a spare cat cage that Miss Critchley had found. Violet was protesting that it was all just a ridiculous mistake. Father Bob didn’t agree. He thought it was well deserved.

‘Who would have thought Aunt Violet and Pharaoh would be such a hit?’ said Digby. He winked at Clementine.

‘Do you think we could invite Queen Georgiana to tea?’ Clementine asked. ‘I like her a lot.’

‘Yes, the woman has impeccable judgement,’ Digby grinned.

‘I’m not sure that Aunt Violet would want that,’ Lady Clarissa replied. She glanced towards the cake table, where something caught her eye. ‘No, Pharaoh!’ she shouted and ran towards him.

Aunt Violet and Father Bob looked up.

Hiding behind a huge layered sponge in the middle of the table was Pharaoh. His tail flicked from side to side like a windscreen wiper as he licked the cream from between the cakes.

Mrs Bottomley had been telling Astrid’s parents what a clever little tick their daughter was, when she heard the commotion too.

She looked up, wondering if she was seeing things.

‘Why, you!’ Mrs Bottomley erupted. ‘I spent hours making that cake, you ugly brute.’ She raced towards the table and lunged at the cat. Pharaoh darted away and Mrs Bottomley landed sprawled out, face down in the middle of the sponge.

Clementine’s eyes were like saucers as she watched her teacher lying on the table with her little brown legs kicking in the air.

Aunt Violet threw her paper plate on the ground. Pharaoh raced in her direction. She quickly snatched him up but the evidence was all over his face.

Mrs Bottomley rocked backward until her feet hit the ground and she slid off the table and onto her bottom. Large chunks of cake fell from her chest as she scrambled to her feet and sped towards Aunt Violet, who was clutching Pharaoh under her arm.

‘You, you horrid little beast!’ Mrs Bottomley pointed her finger at the cat. Although the teacher was trembling like a jelly, Clementine marvelled that her helmet of brown curls barely moved.

‘Someone must have let him out,’ stammered Aunt Violet. She was looking in the direction of Pharaoh’s cage and wondering which of those ghastly children had done it. Angus Archibald was standing beside the cage with Joshua, giggling behind his hands. ‘It was you,’ Aunt Violet hissed as she stalked towards the two boys.

Angus pulled a face. ‘Was not.’

‘We didn’t do anything,’ Joshua said and started to laugh. He was looking at the bits of pink icing stuck to Mrs Bottomley’s face.

‘My grandson would never do any such thing,’ said Mrs Bottomley. She marched over to Aunt Violet. ‘I’m sure it was . . . Clementine and her naughty little friends!’

Clementine frowned. She’d been standing beside Uncle Digby and her mother the whole time and Poppy and Sophie weren’t even there.

Unfortunately for Mrs Bottomley, Angus had reached down to the ground just moments before and picked up the pin from the latch on the cage. He was still holding it in his hand. She saw it with her own eyes.

‘Oh!’ Mrs Bottomley gasped. Her bottom lip began to tremble. ‘Angus Archibald!’ she roared, and then started to cry.

‘But I didn’t do anything.’ Angus shook his head and then looked at the evidence in his hand. ‘It wasn’t me. I just found this on the ground.’

Aunt Violet spun around and glared at the teacher. ‘Ha! If I were you, madam, I would be a little more careful about accusing my great-niece in future, especially when your grandson is quite clearly the troublemaker. And what on earth are you wearing? Perhaps no one has ever been kind enough to say so, but brown is definitely not your colour!’

‘How dare you?’ Ethel Bottomley poked her tongue out at Aunt Violet and scurried away. Lady Clarissa raced after her. She couldn’t believe what Aunt Violet had said, even if they might all have been thinking it. Angus and Joshua were wide eyed – at least for a second, until Aunt Violet got stuck into the pair of them. Once she had finished yelling, they both made a hasty exit, wiping their eyes as they went.

Aunt Violet let out an enormous sigh. As far as she was concerned the day couldn’t possibly get any worse. But she hadn’t noticed Queen Georgiana walking towards her.

‘Oh my goodness, dear, if I didn’t think you looked alike before, you certainly do now,’ the Queen said with a grin.

‘I don’t know what you mean, Ma’am.’ Violet gulped and clutched Pharaoh closer to her chest.

Queen Georgiana touched the corner of her own lip with her forefinger.

Violet wondered what she was doing.

Clementine rushed over with Lavender in tow. She pointed at Aunt Violet’s face and passed her a tissue.

‘What? What’s the matter now?’ Violet asked.

‘Your lip, dear. It’s covered in cream,’ Queen Georgiana smiled. ‘Just like that naughty little fiend.’ She pointed at Pharaoh.

‘Oh. Thank you,’ Violet mumbled and wiped her face.

Queen Georgiana was ushered away by her bodyguard and lady-in-waiting.

‘Would you like to go home, Aunt Violet?’ Clementine asked. ‘Lavender’s exhausted. And Pharaoh looks as if he could do with a nap too.’

‘Yes, I’m going right now,’ Aunt Violet fumed and began to stride away.

‘Can I come with you?’ Clementine called. ‘Mummy and Uncle Digby are staying to help clean up and I thought we could read some more of that story.’

But Aunt Violet was in no mood to babysit. ‘No. I’m taking Pharaoh and you’re not coming.’

Clementine frowned. Uncle Digby had disappeared inside and Sophie and Poppy were nowhere to be seen either. Her mother was near the entrance to the hall, still trying to calm Mrs Bottomley.

Clemmie hadn’t noticed Angus Archibald skulking around behind her.

‘You – love – a – pig,’ Angus sniffled.

‘Go away, Angus,’ Clementine replied. ‘You’ve made enough trouble.’ She spun around to face the lad. It was obvious he’d been crying. She almost felt sorry for him.

‘I didn’t do it,’ Angus protested. ‘I didn’t.’

Clementine wondered if maybe he was telling the truth. He had been a lot better the past few days.

‘Where’s your dog?’ Clementine asked.

‘Mum took him and I have to stay here and help clean up,’ Angus explained between sniffs. ‘Then I have to go to Nan’s and she’s really mad.’

‘Well, you shouldn’t have let Pharaoh out,’ Clementine admonished. ‘Aunt Violet is really cross with you too.’

‘But I told you. I didn’t,’ Angus huffed. ‘I found that pin on the ground.’

The boy stared at Lavender, who was munching on some cake that Mrs Bottomley had scraped from her chest at the height of the drama. The little pig looked up at the boy.

‘Can I pat her?’ Angus asked Clementine.

‘Yes, but you have to promise to be gentle,’ Clemmie replied.

The lad knelt down and gave the little pig a scratch behind her ear. She pressed her snout against his other hand and gave him a nibble.

Angus giggled. ‘That tickles.’

‘See, she’s really lovely,’ Clementine said. ‘And she likes you.’

Angus didn’t notice the shadow looming over them, blocking out the sun. When finally he glanced up, his face crumpled and he raced off to put a safe distance between him and Clementine’s terrifying great-aunt.

‘Well, are you coming or not?’ Aunt Violet had deposited Pharaoh into the car and returned to the scene of the crime.

The child smiled up at her. ‘Oh, yes please,’ Clementine said. ‘You take Lavender and I’ll just find Mummy and Uncle Digby and let them know I’m going with you.’ She thrust the pig into Aunt Violet’s arms.

The old woman flinched. She held Lavender out in front of her and the little pig kicked her legs about. Aunt Violet walked back to the car, where she placed Lavender on the back seat beside Pharaoh, who was locked up in his borrowed cage.

A minute later Clementine appeared. ‘I’m ready.’ She hopped into the passenger seat and closed the door. ‘Mummy said that she and Uncle Digby will be home soon.’

Aunt Violet started the car. ‘I’m not reading anything until I’ve had a strong cup of tea and a lie down,’ she announced.

‘But you didn’t say you wouldn’t read to me at all,’ Clementine smiled.

Aunt Violet said nothing. She simply put the car into gear and pulled away from the kerb.

Clementine turned her head to look at the animals in the back. She was surprised to see Pharaoh curled up on the seat beside Lavender.

‘Aunt Violet, did you lock Pharaoh in the cage?’ the child asked.

‘Of course I did.’ The woman kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead. ‘I latched it myself.’

‘Well, it’s just . . . I think you might have to apologise to Angus,’ Clementine began.

‘I’ll do no such thing,’ Aunt Violet retorted.

‘I think you should,’ Clementine insisted.

‘Why?’ Aunt Violet snapped.

‘Because Pharoah’s a magician,’ the child said, frowning. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn that Pharaoh was smiling.