The tour bus arrived in the dead of night, its lights sparkling in the falling rain. Autumn was rearing its blustery head earlier than usual, but T. Bear and Anna were prepared. They had umbrellas at the ready.
‘Remember,’ said Anna, ‘they asked for secrecy!’
‘Don’t worry, miss,’ said T. Bear, puffing out his chest to make himself bigger and more imposing. T. Bear could be quite the bodyguard when he needed to be.
The hotel was fully at sleep, but for two fruit bats enjoying a late-night mango cocktail in the Piano Lounge. Lemmy took them a bowl of dried apricot chips and walked back to the lobby, certain that they wouldn’t bother them.
‘I can’t believe the band are here!’ he said, unable to contain his excitement. ‘Do you think they’ll sign my tail?’
‘I think we should be professional about their stay,’ said Anna. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Sorry,’ muttered Lemmy. ‘It’s just too exciting.’
Under the cover of the umbrellas they ventured outside, and T. Bear opened the tour-bus door. ‘Evening, all,’ he said. ‘Welcome to –’
A rather angry-looking honey badger trudged down the bus steps. His large-collared shirt was unbuttoned to his stomach, and a garish necklace hung low from his neck. He flashed a furious look at the sky.
‘I hate rain,’ he interrupted. ‘Everything in place and ready for us?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Anna.
‘Better be,’ he replied. He held out his paw to Anna. ‘Mr Sweet. Manager of the band.’
‘Ms Dupont,’ said Anna. ‘Manager of the hotel.’
The honey badger’s handshake was firm to painful, and Anna was convinced his claws were purposely digging into her hand.
‘Now, you listen good,’ said Mr Sweet. ‘And you pass these words on to your staff. You don’t look at the band. You don’t talk to the band. You don’t ask for signatures or photos with the band. You got it?’
Lemmy’s joy turned to sadness.
‘Yes, sir,’ said Anna.
‘Good,’ said Mr Sweet. ‘Come on then. Let’s get out of this nasty weather.’
Anna stepped back a little, lifting her umbrella high as the three band members left the tour bus. With slashed T-shirts, ripped trousers and boots up to their knees they absolutely looked the part. And although she tried not to look at them, she found it impossible not to peek. As did Lemmy. He whispered their names as they passed.
‘That’s Kool Bananas. He’s a bushbaby and plays drums. And that’s Anji Wax …’
Lemmy was so star-struck he found it hard to breathe, let alone speak.
‘She’s a wombat and plays bass. She never talks in interviews – she’s too cool for that. And that’s Suzi Suzi, a bat-eared fox. She’s the singer and guitarist –’
Suddenly Mr Sweet grabbed Lemmy by the collar. ‘Did you hear what I said about looking at the band?’ he growled. ‘Show them respect.’
Mr Sweet was even more terrifying than Madame Le Pig. Lemmy didn’t know what to say or do. His tail fell limply to the floor.
Thankfully T. Bear intervened. He placed his very firm paw on Mr Sweet’s arm and removed it from his friend. ‘Respect needs to be earned, Mr Sweet,’ he said.
Anna could see that there would be trouble ahead.
‘Everything should be as you need,’ she said calmly. ‘I’ll show you to your rooms.’
Mr Sweet growled at T. Bear. ‘The roadies will bring the kit in,’ he said menacingly. ‘Keep your paws off it.’
‘My pleasure,’ said T. Bear.
The band skulked their way across the lobby and into the lift.
‘Fifth floor, Squeak,’ said Anna.
‘Right away,’ he replied, looking at the floor.
‘Nice hotel,’ said Suzi Suzi as the lift started to move. ‘I love the flamingo vibe.’
‘Sure is,’ said Kool Bananas. ‘I could live here. Loads of space for drum kits.’
Anji Wax stood silently, her fringe hanging over her eyes.
Anna wondered why anyone would be too cool to speak.
The lift bell chimed and Anna stepped out. ‘Here are your rooms,’ she said, passing Mr Sweet their keys.
‘We’ll need room service,’ he said. ‘It’s been a long ride, and we’re hungry.’
‘You want food? Now?’ said Anna.
‘We’re nocturnal,’ said Mr Sweet with a growl. ‘I thought this place was a hotel! Don’t you do night meals?’
If only Lemmy had let her know about the band sooner, thought Anna.
‘Yes, sir,’ she said. ‘Of course. Just call the front desk.’
She stepped back into the lift, feeling grumpier by the second.
‘Manners cost nothing, do they, Squeak?’ she said as the lift doors closed.
‘No, miss,’ said the mouse. ‘Can I sign off for the day now, miss?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Anna. ‘Thank you, Squeak.’
