Clementine Rose and the Birthday Emergency (6 page)

Uncle Digby set the picnic basket down on the edge of the tartan blanket. His eyes sparkled as he stood on the hill, looking out on the oval at the children in their brightly coloured house shirts. The field was decorated in bunting, and colour-coded cones marked out each of the areas. There was a high-jump station with giant mats in the middle of the field, the long-jump pit and track on the other side, and the running track right in front of them.

Lady Clarissa glanced around the field. ‘Where's Aunt Violet?'

‘I think she's helping Mrs Bottomley with the marshalling,' Digby replied, pointing to a large group of children leaping up and down like puppies in a playpen.

Mrs Bottomley, in a chocolate-brown tracksuit and large Panama hat, spun around and glared at the children. After the Kindergarten teacher dealt out a series of rapid hand movements resembling a police officer directing traffic, the children lined up and awaited their next instructions.

‘That woman is a marvel,' Uncle Digby said with a shake of his head.

Lady Clarissa smiled. ‘I think they're terrified of her.'

‘There's Clemmie!' Uncle Digby spotted the girl and gave a wave.

Clementine waved back, just as the loudspeaker crackled and the sound of Miss Critchley's voice filled the oval. All eyes turned to the podium. The head teacher had foregone
her usual attire for black tracksuit pants, trainers and a white collared shirt. Her long curly hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was wrapped in ribbons representing each of the house colours.

‘Good morning, everyone, and welcome to our annual sports carnival,' Miss Critchley began. ‘You should all have a copy of the program outlining today's events. I hope there are lots of parents planning to sign up for the final event of the day, the parents-versus-teachers-versus-students relay. I do wonder who's going to win that one …'

A huge cheer rose up from the students, peppered with shouts of ‘Us!' and ‘We will!'.

‘It sounds as though the children are pretty confident they'll win, but we'll just have to see about that, won't we, mums and dads?' The head teacher grinned as the parents and teachers all rallied in response.

‘I can't wait for that,' Clementine said to Angus, who was standing beside her.

The boy nodded excitedly. ‘Me too. We're definitely going to win.'

A few minutes later, the first of the races was underway. Joshua Tribble came first in the boys' Year One race, and proceeded to jump all over the place with his arms in the air. He carried on like this until one of the teachers reminded him that it was just a heat and that he would still have to race in the final before any ribbons were handed out.

Clementine lined up beside a group of girls from her class.

‘Look,' Uncle Digby said to Clarissa, ‘Clemmie's up next.'

‘Go, Sophie!' Pierre Rousseau called as his wife clapped.

Basil let out a whistle. ‘Come on, Tilda!' he yelled.

Mr Smee raised his starting can into the air. It had a little trumpet on top that made a loud squeaking sound. ‘On your marks, get set …' Mr Smee pressed the hooter.

The girls shot off down the track. Clemmie raced ahead, urged on by Uncle Digby and Lady Clarissa's cheers, and crossed the line well ahead of Sophie, who finished in second place. Down in the marshalling area, Aunt Violet had been bellowing too and only stopped when she saw Mrs Bottomley clamp her hands over her ears.

It wasn't long before the children were running in the finals. Several of the parents had been seconded onto the track to act as judges and to hand out ribbons. Aunt Violet stood at the end of the running track, charged with the task of awarding the green ribbons for third place.

Clementine was up against all the best runners from the heats this time. She jigged up and down before Mr Smee called the girls over to the starting line, where they stood perfectly still, their little chests rising up and down in anticipation. Clementine rubbed her tummy. It was hurting a lot but she desperately wanted to win a ribbon.

The hooter blared and the girls were off. Clementine's arms and legs pumped up and
down as she tried to take the lead. She could see Astrid out of the corner of her eye and Sophie was right beside her too. Clementine could hear Aunt Violet's voice above everyone else, screaming at her to go faster. She surged for the tape at the finish line and tumbled over.

‘Clemmie!' Aunt Violet shouted, racing over to the child. ‘Are you all right?'

Clementine puffed and stood up. She nodded and grinned from ear to ear as Mrs Tribble handed her the blue ribbon. ‘Look, Aunt Violet! I won!' she said, leaping into the woman's arms.

Aunt Violet beamed. ‘Well done, Clemmie.'

‘Miss Appleby, aren't you supposed to be giving out the third-place ribbon?' Mrs Tribble asked curtly. She gestured to Sophie, who was looking forlornly at the old woman, wondering if she was ever going to get her prize.

‘Sorry, dear,' Aunt Violet said, handing Sophie the green ribbon. ‘Here you go.'

‘Come on, Year One,' Poppy's father, Mr Bauer called to the children. ‘We'd better get
started on the high jump or it will be lunchtime before we know it.'

The students charged off, gathering around the man like a swarm of bees.

Clementine Rose was having a wonderful time. She'd come second in the long jump, behind Sophie, and fourth in the high jump. She had even placed third in the beanbag throw. By lunchtime, she was exhausted.

‘What a day, darling!' Lady Clarissa said as she pulled her daughter onto her lap.

‘I've got four ribbons,' Clementine declared, proudly holding up three fingers. ‘Blue, red, green and white.'

Aunt Violet frowned. ‘I think we'd better work on your mathematics as well as your spelling.'

Clementine looked at her fingers. Then, realising her mistake, she released her pinkie, which shot up to make four. ‘Oops.'

Pierre looked over from where he and his family were eating ham-and-cheese baguettes. ‘You're a very fast runner, Clementine,' he said.

The girl beamed. ‘Thank you. Sophie's a good runner too.'

Pierre popped the last bite of his baguette into his mouth and dusted off his hands. He reached into their giant wicker picnic basket and pulled out a huge white box. ‘I've brought us all some treats.'

‘Ooh, is there a cream bun in there for me?' Uncle Digby patted his tummy and winked at Clemmie.

‘Maybe, maybe not,' Pierre teased. He opened the lid to reveal a tasty array of cakes and pastries. There were two cream buns, some cinnamon donuts, a chocolate brownie,
three caramel slices and two custard tarts. He placed the box on the ground, and Clementine peered inside.

‘May I have the brownie?' she asked.

The man smiled. ‘
Oui
, of course you may.'

‘Do you want to wait until after your last race to have it?' Lady Clarissa asked.

Clementine nodded. ‘We want to beat the teachers and mums and dads, but you should all eat lots of cake.'

Sophie giggled. ‘That will make them SLOW!'

‘Actually, Clemmie, you've hardly touched a bite of your lunch,' Lady Clarissa said, noticing that the girl's sandwich had only been nibbled around the edges. ‘You should eat something. You want to have enough energy to run.'

Clementine shook her head. ‘I don't feel like it, Mummy. I have too many butterflies and I got a stick in my last race.'

Her mother couldn't help but laugh. ‘I think you mean a stitch, Clemmie.'

‘Oh, that too,' Clementine smiled.

‘Are you excited about your party, Clementine?' Odette Rousseau asked the girl.

The child's eyes widened as she nodded. ‘I've been making decorations, and Mummy's going to bake a pirate ship with a princess on board, and I'm going to help her.'

Odette smiled. ‘That sounds wonderful, but I hope it's a cake and not a real pirate ship!'

Clementine giggled and looked at her mother. ‘Is every one coming?'

‘Just about, I think,' Lady Clarissa replied with a nod.

‘What about Drew and Will?' Clementine said.

Lady Clarissa grinned. ‘I spoke to Drew yesterday and he said he'd do his best.'

Clementine's smile grew even wider. ‘I can't wait to see Will again.'

On the other side of the Applebys, the Hobbses had just returned from the barbecue that Mr Pickles and Mr Archibald had set up on the edge of the oval. They were now devouring the most delicious-smelling sausage sandwiches.

‘I hear you're soon to be the proud owners of a new puppy,' Uncle Digby said.

Teddy leapt up, splashing tomato sauce all over his shirt. ‘Cosmo's the cutest thing ever,' he said, hardly able to contain his excitement.

Ana grabbed a tissue and wiped the splodge. ‘What a grub you are,' she laughed.

‘If you hadn't seen him first I might have been tempted myself,' Uncle Digby admitted.

‘That's a great idea!' Clementine said. ‘We should get a puppy so Uncle Digby will have his own pet. But then you'd have to get one too Mummy.'

‘I think I have enough to worry about,' Lady Clarissa said, ‘though I do like the idea of a puppy. Perhaps we should think about that.'

There was a crackle of static before Miss Critchley's voice sailed from the loudspeaker. ‘Would all the children and parents and teachers who are running in the special relay race proceed to the marshalling area, please?'

Some of the children began prodding and whispering to each other, wondering why the
head teacher was wearing a bathrobe over her clothes.

‘Time to go, Clemmie,' her mother said, helping her up.

Angus jumped up from a blanket just along the row and dashed over. ‘Come on!' he said, taking Clementine by the hand. With that, the two of them shot off towards Mrs Bottomley, whose giant hat was practically blocking out the sun.

Clementine caught sight of Mr Tribble making his way down. He was wearing shiny blue shorts and a singlet top, revealing much more impressive muscles than anyone might have thought he'd possess. Ana Hobbs was also part of the parents' team. She had donned gym pants, trainers and a white T-shirt. There were a whole lot of mums and dads, some stretching and jogging on the spot while others stood around chatting.

All of a sudden, the audience sitting on the hill let out a huge cheer. Clementine and Angus craned their necks to see what everyone was looking at. It was the teachers' team, led by
Miss Critchley, who was no longer wearing the bathrobe. They were all wearing matching outfits of black pants, runners and Superman T-shirts, as well as sweatbands around their heads and on their wrists.

Everyone roared with laughter as Mr Smee swept onto the oval last of all. He looked the same as the others with the single addition of a long red cape. He stood in front of everyone and raised his left hand into the air as if he were about to take off into the sky.

Mrs Bottomley stepped up to the microphone to explain what was happening and to be the official starter for the event. It took several minutes to organise everyone into their teams and then half of each group walked to the other end of the 100-metre track. To make things more fair, the children were to be given a head start.

As she made her way to the other side, Clementine felt her tummy grumble.

‘Are you all right, Clementine?' Miss Critchley asked, thinking the girl looked rather pale.

‘I'm okay,' Clementine replied, her mouth twisting slightly as she felt another nasty twinge in her side.

‘If you're not well, we can always get one of the other children to run instead,' the head teacher offered.

Clementine shook her head. She had been looking forward to this race all week.

‘Well, it seems that we're finally ready,' Mrs Bottomley said. ‘On your –'

‘Hang on a tick!' Mr Tribble shouted.

‘What now?' Mrs Bottomley boomed. The micro phone screeched, and everyone in the crowd flinched. ‘Stop that, you silly thing,' Mrs Bottomley hissed. She stepped away and the noise ceased.

‘I've got to do up my shoelaces,' Mr Tribble explained.

‘Is that all? I hope you're faster at it than your son.' Mrs Bottomley cast her eyes across the track at Joshua, who was doing some sort of strange dance. She waited a minute before resuming her duties. ‘All right, is everyone ready now?'

Heads nodded and there was a cacophony of yeses from the track.

James, one of the Year Six boys, was first up for the children. He was the fastest boy in the school and, with the benefit of the head start, was sure to give the students a decent lead. Mr Tribble was the first runner for the parents, and Mrs Cheng was striking out for the teachers.

‘On your marks, get set …' Mrs Bottomley paused for dramatic effect.

‘Get on with it!' Mr Tribble demanded. The man had been squatting in a proper starting position. ‘I'm getting a cramp, woman!'

‘There's no need for that tone,' Mrs Bottomley huffed. ‘James, on your marks, get set …' Mrs Bottomley raised the hooter into the air and pressed down. A blast of sound filled the oval.

James launched off the start line and raced to the other end of the field. Meanwhile, Mrs Cheng danced about, impatient for her cue, and Mr Tribble looked to be wobbling in his crouching stance.

‘Come on, Mrs Bottomley. James is almost at the other end,' he griped.

The woman's lips twitched, trying to suppress a smile. She glanced at the stopwatch in her hand. ‘Go!' she shouted.

Mr Tribble took off at top speed, with Mrs Cheng doing her best to keep up. The crowd went wild as the children all chanted James's name. The lad reached the other end and passed the shiny baton to a girl called Jemima, who immediately sprinted away. She was almost a whole length ahead of the parents and teachers.

The children achieved a commanding lead as the baton changed hands over and over. At one point, the audience gasped when Bertie dropped the baton just as he was about to pass it to the other Kindergarten runner, Louisa. Undeterred, the little girl snatched it up and started running.

Clementine's tummy continued to twist and turn. She was going to be the last runner for her team, as Mrs Bottomley had insisted that
the Kindergarten children run in the middle of the group. The woman had been sure the Kindergarteners would crack under the pressure and give up, but neither of them had. The parents had fallen behind the teachers, who were beginning to gain on the children. Clementine watched as Angus took the baton and charged away.

‘Go, Angus!' the children screamed from the hill. The parents were on their feet too, making as much noise as the kids.

‘Godfathers, I can't watch,' Aunt Violet muttered, hiding behind her hands. ‘Why did they leave Clementine to last? She's too little.'

‘Don't worry, Angus is in front by miles,' Uncle Digby said. ‘Clementine has this in the bag.'

Angus raced towards Clemmie. He passed her the shiny baton, which she grabbed with both hands. She could hear the cries of Basil and Uncle Digby, along with Sophie and Poppy. Lady Clarissa was on her feet with her hands clenched, willing her little girl to the end.

Mr Smee, the last runner for the teachers, was quickly gaining on her.

‘Come on, Clementine!' Joshua shouted. ‘Don't let Mr Smee catch up! You can do it – you're the best!' The boy was leaping up and down like a gazelle on a trampoline.

Ana Hobbs was making good ground for the parents too.

‘Go, Mummy!' Tilda shouted. ‘And Clemmie!'

Clementine felt another sharp jab in her side and winced. It was getting harder to ignore, but she gritted her teeth and pushed on. She hit the finish line seconds before Mr Smee.

The children on the hill went crazy, leaping up and down and cheering. Angus rushed over to Clementine.

‘That was awesome!' he said, patting her on the back.

Clementine was hunched over and gasping for breath. ‘I don't feel so good,' she said, and promptly threw up everywhere.