Clementine Rose and the Famous Friend 7 by Jacqueline Harvey Page A

buddy.’
    Joshua’s ears turned pink and he covered his mouth.
    â€˜I think you have some very excited students, Mr Smee. Year One, seeing that you know everyone else on stage, I’d like you to stand and follow Astrid outside. Mr Smee will meet you in a minute.’ Miss Critchley smiled at Astrid, who was sitting at the end of the row, nearest the door. The girl led the group out into the morning sunshine. In less than a minute the children had organised themselves into alphabetical order, with Astrid helpingTilda and Tom to find their places in the line.
    Mr Smee arrived and cast his eyes over the class. ‘Wow! You’re very well organised.’
    â€˜We’re in alphabetical order,’ Clementine announced.
    â€˜No!’ He frowned in disbelief.
    â€˜Yes, we are,’ Clementine reassured him. ‘You can test us.’
    Mr Smee looked at the children, wondering how on earth a group of five- and six-year-olds had managed to arrange themselves into alphabetical order.
    He pointed to the curly-haired lad at the head of the line. ‘Okay then, what’s your name?’
    â€˜Angus Archibald,’ the boy replied.
    Mr Smee then pointed at the girl behind him, Astrid, who was followed by Clementine. He could hardly believe his ears as he ticked off each child. He smiled broadly. ‘That’s amazing. But you don’t have to line up in alphabetical order for me. In fact,’ he lowered his voice, ‘I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m not really a big fan of lines at all.’
    The children suddenly stiffened, their backs straight and arms jammed beside their bodies.
    Mr Smee gawped. This was not the usual reaction to his little secret. Then he noticed that the children weren’t looking at him at all. He turned around to see Ethel Bottomley striding towards them, dressed from tip to toe in her trademark brown.
    â€˜Good morning, Mrs Bottomley,’ the class sang.
    â€˜Good morning, everyone.’ The old woman cast a stern eye over the group.
    â€˜Did you teach them to line up like that, Mrs Bottomley?’ Mr Smee asked.
    She nodded. ‘I certainly did. I think you will find that these are the most well-disciplined students in the school and I will thank you not to go ruining them with your hippy ideas.’
    She’d met the young man at the staff meeting the day before and was horrified to hear some of the plans he outlined for the children.
    Roderick Smee worked hard to smother a grin. ‘Of course not, Mrs Bottomley.’ It wasn’t entirely true, but there was no point upsetting her.
    He looked back to the students and gave the barest hint of a wink. ‘Come on, Year One. Time to get excited about learning.’
    â€˜Excited?’ Mrs Bottomley could hardly believe her ears. ‘Mr Smee, I think you should choose your words far more carefully or these children will be running amok in no time.’
    Clementine held Tilda’s hand and gave it a squeeze. It seemed that Year One was going to be a lot more fun than Kindergarten.

Clementine Rose clattered through the front door. She kicked off her school shoes and ran down the hallway to the kitchen, skidding along the polished timber boards on her socks.
    â€˜Mummy, we’re home!’
    She pushed her way through the kitchen door and dropped her backpack by the sideboard.
    Lady Clarissa Appleby was stirring a large pot on the stove. The house smelt like warmapples and cinnamon. Clementine grinned. Her mother was probably making a pie. Aunt Violet was sitting at the table with her head buried in a fashion magazine.
    â€˜Hello darling.’ Lady Clarissa smiled at her little daughter. Clementine’s blue eyes sparkled like sapphires and she wore a huge grin. ‘It looks like someone’s had a good day.’
    â€˜Oh Mummy, it was the best ever. Our teacher’s name is Mr Smee and he’s very funny and he had a lovely tie with yellow flowers,’