Hotel Flamingo Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Map

  1. The Royal Letter

  2. New Guests

  3. Perfection is Everything

  4. Ruffled Feathers

  5. Mr Ruffian

  6. The Port

  7. Carpet Troubles

  8. To the Rescue

  9. Flamingos for Hire

  10. Last-Minute Preparations

  11. The King and Queen Penguin

  12. The Warning

  13. The Temperature Rises

  14. Sabotage

  15. Detective Bear

  16. Surprises for All

  17. Party Poopers

  18. Pointing the Finger

  19. A Big Mistake

  20. Caught in the Act

  21. Muddy End

  A Note From the Author

  Copyright

  For Gary

  1

  The Royal Letter

  In the blazing heat of summer, a long black limousine pulled up outside Hotel Flamingo. The car looked very important, with tiny black, white and orange flags fluttering from its bonnet. Three smartly dressed penguins stepped out. Two of them played a fanfare on long golden horns – PAR-RAPPA-PARP! – as the third waddled over to T. Bear.

  This penguin looked incredibly official in a black blazer and pleated skirt, and as she spoke the little round glasses on her beak bobbed up and down.

  ‘I am Ms Chinstrap, envoy to King Valentin and Queen Julieta Penguin of the Southern Isles,’ she said, ‘and I would like to see the owner of Hotel Flamingo.’

  T. Bear had worked on the door of Hotel Flamingo for what seemed like forever, but he couldn’t remember any arrival being quite so extravagant.

  ‘Certainly, Ms Chinstrap,’ he said, standing slightly more upright than before. ‘Please follow me.’

  T. Bear ushered the penguin through the lobby, past Lemmy, a wide-eyed ring-tailed lemur on the front desk, and knocked on the office door.

  ‘Ms Dupont,’ said T. Bear, pushing the door open, ‘may I present to you … Ms Chinstrap, envoy to the King and Queen Penguin!’

  Anna leapt up from her chair. ‘Good morning, Ms Chinstrap,’ she said nervously. ‘How can I help?’

  Ms Chinstrap sniffed and gazed about the office, noting every speck of dust, every tilted picture frame and every book out of line on the shelf. ‘The King and Queen Penguin would like to stay at your hotel,’ she said.

  ‘Here?’ said Anna, a little shocked. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ms Chinstrap.

  Anna’s heart started racing. This was amazing news, but she’d never met royalty before. Her thoughts ran away with themselves. How do you cook for a king or queen? Do they talk the same language as everyone else?

  ‘And … er … when are our royal guests hoping to stay?’ she asked.

  ‘In three days’ time, and staying for seven nights,’ said Ms Chinstrap. ‘They apologise for their last-minute decision. The Queen decided she would like to try something different from the Glitz.’

  The Glitz was an exclusive hotel and Hotel Flamingo’s main competition on Animal Boulevard. Its owner, Mr Ruffian, did everything in his power to make life difficult for Anna.

  ‘They chose us over the Glitz?’ said Anna, astonished.

  ‘Please be aware that if Hotel Flamingo falls below the standards necessary,’ said Ms Chinstrap, ‘it is perfectly easy to return there.’

  ‘Standards?’

  Ms Chinstrap removed a black folder from her handbag and passed it to Anna.

  ‘You’ll find all the information you need in here,’ she said, tapping the folder with her wing. ‘Inside is a list of all royal requirements, from meals to room decoration.’

  Anna flipped through the folder, scanning page after page of instructions. ‘Good grief, there’s a lot, isn’t there?’ she said.

  Ms Chinstrap dipped her head and squawked. ‘As royal envoy,’ she said, ‘I have a duty to ensure everything is perfect. Perfection is my name, my aim and my absolute game.’

  ‘Oh, mine too!’ said Anna. ‘I love perfection.’

  Ms Chinstrap raised a feathery eyebrow above her glasses and leant across to correct Anna’s slanting hat. ‘We’re facing a heatwave, and penguins are not suited to extreme heat. I take it you will be able to deal with that?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Anna. ‘You’ll need ice, and lots of it.’

  ‘That would be a good start,’ said Ms Chinstrap. ‘I will return for a full tour of the hotel tomorrow, but now I will leave you to prepare. Remember, Ms Dupont, royalty deserves perfection!’ And with that she waddled out of the office.

  Anna gulped as the news sank in. A real-life king and queen were coming to Hotel Flamingo. She had to tell everyone!

  ‘STOP EVERYTHING!’ she cried, circling the lobby with her hands waving above her head. ‘STAFF MEETING! MY OFFICE! NOW!’

  T. Bear gathered everyone together. Stella Giraffe stood head and shoulders above everybody, with Madame Le Pig, Eva Koala, Lemmy, Squeak the mouse and Hilary Hippo wondering what all the fuss was about.

  ‘The King and Queen Penguin are coming to stay!’ cried Anna, excitedly.

  Everyone gasped and Eva Koala clapped with joy.

  ‘But the Royal Suite’s not been used for years!’ said Lemmy. ‘Not since Queen Bee moved in with her family of a thousand and sixty-three.’

  ‘The honey was amazing,’ said T. Bear blissfully.

  Hilary Hippo sneezed at the very thought of how dirty the room might be.

  ‘There’s much to do,’ Anna said, ‘but a royal visit will really put us on the Animal Boulevard map! Everyone, to work!’

  2

  New Guests

  Even without preparations for a royal visit Hotel Flamingo was busier than ever before. It was the height of summer, and as old guests departed new ones arrived. Just when the midday sun was reaching its hottest, and Lemmy was wishing he could take a siesta, a tour bus arrived.

  Along with a large party of grumpy warthogs and giggly meerkats, there were three monkeys and a family of zebras – not to mention a strangely coloured lizard and a lone rat in a bright red dress. They surged through the revolving doors and into the lobby.

  ‘Welcome to our hotel!’ announced Anna, ushering everyone inside.

  Every creature had differing needs, and Anna could see that there would be a lot to get right and an awful lot that could go wrong with this new busload of guests.

  Luckily Lemmy was on hand to help. He noticed that the rat had more luggage than most creatures twice her size and was trapped among a gaggle of meerkats, who were laughing and bantering with each other. He checked his books for her name.

  ‘Ms Ronnie Rathbone?’ asked Lemmy, waving to catch her attention.

  ‘That’s me,’ she replied. She danced through the crowd smiling, two gold teeth glistening in her mouth.

  Lemmy handed over her room keys. ‘You’re in 512, miss,’ he said, leaving the desk to help with her bags. He struggled to pick them up. ‘Wow! What’s in there?’

  ‘I always take everything wherever I go,’ said Ronnie. ‘Just in case.’

  ‘Just in case what?’ asked Lemmy.

  ‘I’m a rat,’ said Ronnie. ‘Always getting kicked out of places. Always being moved on.’

  ‘Rest assured, Hotel Flamingo welcomes everyone!’ said Lemmy.

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ said Ronnie.

  Lemmy dragged the luggage into the lift. ‘Have a good stay, miss.’

  Ronnie winked. ‘I will, kid. I always do.’

  Before he could return to his desk, a frowning warthog approached with two wriggling hoglets in each arm.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said with a snort.

  ‘Ah yes,’ he said. ‘Your name?’

  ‘Mrs Bamba. I’m the head of the warthog party,’ she replied.

  Lemmy picked up the keys to all their rooms. ‘Any special requirements for your stay?’ he asked.

  ‘Mud for our baths,’ said Mrs Bamba. ‘That’s about all.’

  ‘I thought baths got you clean, not dirty?’ asked Lemmy.

  ‘No, no. You’ve got it all wrong,’ said Mrs Bamba. She placed her troublesome hoglets down and they rolled off in a blur of trotters. ‘Smearing mud on our bristles keeps us looking young. You should try it!’

  Lemmy patted his face, wondering if he was looking old.

  ‘Enough for all twenty-six of us warthogs,’ added Mrs Bamba.

  Lemmy quickly did the maths. That was a lot of mud. ‘I’ll do my best,’ he said.

  ‘Just simple clean mud, please,’ said Mrs Bamba. ‘No fancy smells.’

  She stomped off, leaving Lemmy wondering where to find a wheelbarrow and some simple clean mud. It would be easier said than done.

  Anna took care of the lizard while Lemmy dealt with the rest of the guests. She was so mesmerised by his bright green and red skin that she almost forgot her manners. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, realising that she had been staring. ‘Mr Camou?’

  The lizard tugged at his collar with spindly yet precise fingers and placed his expensive hand luggage on the front desk. ‘It is no problem,’ he said proudly, with a slow nod. ‘I know I look wonderful. If I was you, I’d stare at me all the time.’

  Anna forced a smile as she handed over a key. ‘Room 102. I hope you enjoy your stay.’

  The lizard took out his mobile phone to make a call, before tiptoeing away across the lobby. Once the zebras, monkeys and meerkats had been cared for, Anna returned t
o the front desk.

  ‘We’ve got our work cut out this week,’ said Lemmy. ‘A royal visit is the last thing we need.’

  ‘Just keep doing what you do so well, Lemmy,’ said Anna. ‘All will be well.’

  But Lemmy knew better. ‘Just you wait,’ he said. ‘The king and queen will have you running in circles before they’ve even stepped through the door.’

  ‘Oh, it can’t be that bad,’ said Anna. ‘Besides, we are a hotel! Looking after people is what we do.’

  ‘You’re right, miss, of course,’ said Lemmy.

  Anna patted him on the back. ‘That’s the spirit!’ she said.

  3

  Perfection is Everything

  The following morning, as promised, Ms Chinstrap arrived for a tour of the hotel. Anna had spent many hours reading the list of royal requirements, and it had only made her nerves worse.

  They took the lift up as far as it could go, then stepped out into a beautifully decorated hallway.

  ‘The Royal Suite!’ said Anna, folder in hand. She prepared for the worst as they walked inside.

  The Royal Suite occupied the entire top floor of the hotel, and Anna was relieved to see Hilary had cleaned the rooms to perfection as always. They looked old and faded, but the suite was definitely grand and worthy of a king or queen.

  The penguin waddled in and checked every detail with the beady eyes of someone who had done this many times before.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Anna.

  Ms Chinstrap hummed and hawed. ‘This wall colour does nothing for me except give me a headache,’ she said. ‘In fact, I may vomit.’

  ‘Please don’t – we’ve just cleaned the carpets,’ said Anna.

  She received a stern look from Ms Chinstrap, and Anna realised this probably wasn’t the time for jokes.

  ‘The correct royal colour is noted in the folder,’ said Ms Chinstrap. ‘Do change it.’

  ‘Paint it?’ Anna replied.

  ‘Of course,’ said the penguin. ‘The fresh colours calm the king and queen when in far-away places.’

  ‘Yes, marm,’ said Anna.

  ‘Oh no, no, no. I am not the queen!’ said the penguin. ‘And it is “ma’am” as in “jam”. Follow the details on how to address royalty in your folder. Perfection, after all, is –’

  ‘Everything,’ finished Anna.

  She was starting to understand the enormity of the task that lay ahead. There were so many things to remember and get right. But Anna was determined to do just that.

  ‘And these curtains are not suitable,’ said the penguin, running her wing down their length. ‘And I can see from here the beds are far too soft. Penguins like rocks, not mattresses. I could go on, but it’s all in the royal requirements …’

  ‘Yes, marm,’ said Anna, ‘I mean, ma’am, I mean, Ms Chinstrap.’

  Ms Chinstrap rattled her head and stared at Anna with a beady eye. ‘Now I should like to meet the chef,’ she said.

  Anna gulped. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘Follow me.’

  4

  Ruffled Feathers

  Madame Le Pig was knee-deep in a giant saucepan of berries when Anna reached the kitchen and opened the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt, chef,’ she said.

  ‘How dare you disrupt le chef when she is squishing fruit!’ squealed Madame Le Pig. ‘It is a very private moment!’

  Anna coughed to alert the chef to the important person standing beside her.

  ‘I wanted to introduce you to the royal envoy,’ she said, ‘Ms Chinstrap.’

  Madame Le Pig turned, frowned and pulled her bright purple, berry-stained trotters from the pan. She cleaned them on a tea towel. ‘Ach. This is most inconvenient!’ she said.

  ‘We have heard great things of your skill, Madame Le Pig,’ said Ms Chinstrap.

  ‘Of course you have,’ the chef replied. ‘That is because I am the best in the land. Good enough for any king or queen!’

  ‘The king and queen have prepared their own menu for you,’ said the envoy.

  ‘WHAT?’ screamed the chef.

  Ms Chinstrap took the folder from Anna and removed a list.

  ‘Please take time to perfect and prepare these meals,’ said Ms Chinstrap. ‘I will be official taster to Their Majesties, and will approve each course. Perfection is what we’re after.’

  ‘PERFECTION!’ exploded Madame Le Pig. ‘I am the most perfect chef on Animal Boulevard. I am so perfect I could throw a wooden spoon from the other side of the kitchen and I know it would hit you perfectly on the beak!’

  Anna leapt in to cool the situation. ‘All will be well!’ she said, forcing a smile. ‘Won’t it, chef?’

  Madame Le Pig stared at the list of meals, almost burning holes into the paper with her eyes. ‘I do not like or make squid scones,’ she spat.

  ‘They are the queen’s favourite,’ said Ms Chinstrap. ‘It is very important she has them.’

  ‘Surely squid scones cooked by you would be the best squid scones on Animal Boulevard?’ said Anna to Madame Le Pig. She was getting much better at handling the chef these days.

  ‘That is correct!’ said Madame Le Pig.

  ‘Then I think you should allow the queen to try them,’ Anna replied.

  The pig mulled it over for a second. ‘I agree,’ she said. ‘The queen deserves to eat my squid scones.’

  Anna showed Ms Chinstrap out into the restaurant. ‘I assure you, she is the best in the land,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, she is precisely everything I expected of a top-class chef,’ said the penguin.

  After a brief tour around the rest of the hotel, Ms Chinstrap declared it was time to leave. ‘I look forward to our stay,’ she said, approaching T. Bear and the revolving doors. ‘Remember: to upset oyalty is to face ruin! I am a true perfectionist, and, as you know –’

  ‘Perfection is everything,’ finished Anna.

  As the penguin drove off down Animal Boulevard, Anna’s shoulders slumped.

  ‘You all right, miss?’ asked T. Bear.

  ‘What have I got us into, Mr Bear?’ she said.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, miss,’ said T. Bear, smiling. ‘We’ve had more difficult guests than penguins. You should have been here when the Komodo dragon booked in! We had to keep a really close watch on that one, I can tell you.’

  A procession of young, muddy hoglets ran through the lobby, leaving dirty footprints everywhere. T. Bear looked sad. ‘I’ll get the dustpan and brush,’ he grumbled.

  5

  Mr Ruffian

  Anna was working through her list of jobs when the bell at the front desk chimed impatiently over and over again.

  ‘DOES NO ONE WORK HERE ANY MORE?’ roared a voice.

  Anna recognised it immediately and feared the worst. The voice belonged to Mr Ronald Ruffian, the lion owner of the Glitz Hotel.

  Mr Ruffian roared in anger as Anna approached. He was waving a letter written on silver paper. ‘The King and Queen Penguin were supposed to be staying at my hotel, but now they’ve cancelled!’ he said.

  ‘Yes, because they’re coming here instead,’ said Anna proudly.

  ‘Royalty always stays at the Glitz,’ snarled Mr Ruffian.

  ‘Not any more,’ said Anna.

  ‘You’re making a big mistake, taking my business,’ growled Mr Ruffian, pointing a manicured claw at Anna. ‘Mark my words, this is the biggest – THE ABSOLUTE BIGGEST – mistake you’ve ever made. I will make their stay impossible for you, if it’s the last thing I do.

  Then Mr Ruffian flicked back his mane and stomped out of the hotel, bumping T. Bear aside on the way.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ said Lemmy, arriving in the lobby pushing a wheelbarrow full of mud.

  ‘Nor me,’ said Anna. She looked at Lemmy’s wheelbarrow with confusion.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘Everything’s under control.’

  ‘Do you want to tell me something, Lemmy?’ asked Anna.

  ‘No! You have enough to worry about.’

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Don’t suppose you know where I might find an iceberg in the height of summer? The penguins need it for the swimming pool.’

  Lemmy lowered the wheelbarrow to the floor and scratched his ear. ‘You could try the port,’ he said. ‘Back in the day that’s where we got our ice from. They used to ship it across the sea on big boats.’