Anna rested on the front desk, growing sleepier by the minute. It was way past her bedtime, and waiting for the phone to ring was as bad as waiting behind a sloth in the queue for the toilet.
The band’s roadies started dragging crates of instruments and concert gear through the lobby, guided by Lemmy. Anna called him over.
‘You could have told me they were nocturnal animals!’ she said.
‘I thought it was obvious from their name,’ said Lemmy with a shrug.
‘But they need feeding, Lemmy. And there’s no one to cook. Madame Le Pig will be fast asleep.’
An escaped snare drum rolled across the carpet and Lemmy ran after it.
‘Sorry!’ he said, making a hasty escape.
•
Anna was very nearly asleep when the phone finally rang.
‘Reception!’ she said, pulling the phone to her ear.
‘It’s Mr Sweet,’ said the honey badger. ‘I’ve got our room service order.’
‘Fire away,’ said Anna, her pen at the ready.
‘A snow grass and ginger root smoothie,’ he said. ‘One termite tortilla. A bowl of honey chips – oh yeah, and a dragonfruit salad. Got that?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Anna said. ‘I’ll have it with you as soon as it’s ready.’
She put the phone down and rubbed her eyes. It was time to wake up Madame Le Pig, and she was not going to like it one bit.
Anna crept downstairs to the chef’s bedroom, which was a little further along the corridor from her own. Madame Le Pig slept as loudly as she shouted. Her rasping snore rattled the door handle.
After a brisk – if cautious – rap on the door, Anna waited nervously. The snoring stopped, but there was no reply. She knocked again, and then the floodgates opened.
‘WHO IS THIS DISTURBING MY BEAUTY SLEEP?!’ squealed Madame Le Pig through the door.
Anna cringed. ‘It’s me. Anna,’ she said. ‘The Nocturnal Animals have requested food.’
‘At this hour?’ blasted Le Pig.
‘They’re awake at night,’ said Anna, ‘so they eat at night.’
‘I am not stupid!’ declared Madame Le Pig. ‘I know what nocturnal means.’
‘Sorry, yes, Madame,’ said Anna.
‘But I,’ continued Madame Le Pig, ‘am not nocturnal! So go away!’
Anna so desperately wished she could make the food herself. ‘Please,’ she said. ‘They’re really important VIP guests.’
Madame Le Pig’s door creaked open. She was wearing bunny-rabbit slippers and unicorn-covered pyjamas. ‘VIP guests?’ she snorted. ‘Who are these VIP guests?’
‘It’s a rock band called the Nocturnal –’
‘THE NOCTURNAL ANIMALS!’ squealed Madame Le Pig, cutting Anna short.
‘That’s right.’
Madame Le Pig hurried back into her room and threw on a dressing gown and her chef’s hat.
‘Why didn’t you say?!’
‘I did …’
‘They are the biggest band in the world,’ snorted Madame Le Pig as she raced down the corridor. ‘And easily the best! Not even my food is good enough for them!’
Did she really just say that? thought Anna, running after her.
Madame Le Pig was nothing if not surprising.