‘So,’ she said through gritted teeth, ‘you could have picked up, as it was a guest in the hotel and not someone phoning to make a booking.’
‘I don’t work here, Audrey. You can’t expect me to just jump in when you’re understaffed. This isn’t the industrial revolution; child labour isn’t fashionable any more.’
Audrey took a deep breath. I had made a valid point and she knew it. I can’t answer the phones. It’s not my fault I happen to live here.
‘I suppose you’re right,’ she said, her tone oddly flat. ‘I shouldn’t expect that of you.’
‘Apology accepted.’
‘For reasons I can’t possibly imagine, Skylar Chase has requested your presence in her suite.’
I stared at her. ‘W-what? Are you sure?’
‘Quite sure. That was her on the phone. She wants Flick Royale to go straight to her room if she is home from school and if she is not busy.’
‘Why?’
‘She didn’t say.’
‘And you’re certain she asked for me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Flick.’ Audrey began tapping her shoe impatiently. ‘I am certain that Skylar Chase requests your company this very moment. She’s in Room 108. It goes without saying that you do not pass on that information. Now, I suggest you get up there pronto. Don’t worry about Fritz, I’ll have someone bring him upstairs when he’s ready.’ She clicked her fingers at me. ‘Come on, look lively.’
I quickly stood up and hurried out from reception towards the lift, feeling completely shocked. My heartbeat was out of control as I arrived at her floor and stood stone still outside Room 108. I lifted my hand to knock on her door and froze, swallowing a lump in my throat. What could she possibly want?
The door swung open before I’d knocked, my hand still raised in preparation. Skylar Chase stood in front of me, wearing the hotel’s white fluffy dressing gown and matching slippers.
‘How long were you going to stand out there?’ she said.
‘Uhhh,’ I replied intelligently.
‘Come in!’ she ushered, shutting the door behind me as I shuffled forwards. ‘I need your help.’
She rushed off into the bedroom, leaving me standing awkwardly by the door. Her suite was the biggest and most beautiful in the hotel. It had a gigantic living room, a bedroom with a four-poster bed, a sparkling bathroom complete with hot tub, and a dressing room. The living room was filled with fresh bouquets of red roses – presumably her favourite flowers – and there was a grand piano at the far end of the room underneath a large window, which had an amazing view, looking out across London. The purple velvet curtains were currently closed so the room was bathed in the bright light of the chandeliers.
I had once asked Mum why our flat didn’t look anything like this and she’d just brushed me off, telling me that no one would actually like to live in a place this grand.
To this day I don’t know what she’s talking about. Bring on the chandeliers.
‘Why are you just standing there?’ Skylar said, popping her head round the bedroom door. ‘Come through.’
‘Are you sure it was me you wanted?’ I asked, following her instruction and making my way into her bedroom.
‘Of course.’ She was standing next to her bed, on which there were piles and piles of clothes. ‘It’s an emergency.’
‘What’s the problem? Because, if it’s something with the room, I’m not really the right person to –’
‘So, here’s the thing,’ she interrupted, ‘I gave my team the evening off. They’ve been working really hard so I insisted on it and they all got really excited and they’ve gone sightseeing or something. And I’ve got this dinner to go to with some friends tonight and normally my stylist or PA would help me pick out what to wear but I don’t want to ring them and disturb them from looking round that big tower thing. What’s it called?’
‘The Tower of London?’
‘Yeah. Where all the heads were chopped off.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I couldn’t think of anyone to call in London. Then I thought of you.’
‘Me?’
