‘Yes.’ I nodded, folding my arms and wondering how long this was going to take. This whole selfie-stick debacle had taken up most of my evening already.
Mum looked at Audrey and Matthew – both of whom were standing a few metres away watching the proceedings – supposedly to see if either of them had any comments at this stage. Neither of them said anything, so she turned back to face me.
Fritz was there too, lying across my feet, which is this weird thing he does. I don’t mind it because if I’m not wearing shoes it keeps my feet warm, which is handy, but sometimes I forget he’s there and get up to do something and he suddenly tips off and goes rolling across the floor. I would find those occasions funny if he didn’t get in such a strop with me afterwards.
‘Just so I’m clear,’ Mum began, leaning back on her desk, ‘“fan demand” is . . . your explanation?’
‘Yeah.’ I shrugged. ‘Otherwise none of this would have happened.’
‘What. Do. You. Mean?’
‘I tried explaining this to you earlier but you refused to listen.’ I sighed. ‘I had to upload a new post on to Fritz’s Instagram feed at 5.30 p.m. That’s when I had promised his legion of fans that the next photo would be up. I didn’t want to let them down! It would be like that time Matthew promised he’d get me front-row tickets for Cirque du Soleil at the last minute but it wasn’t his priority and I ended up in Row F behind some stupid lady with a topknot.’
Matthew gave a small cough. I smiled graciously at him.
‘Don’t worry, Matthew, you forgive and forget.’
‘Go. On. With. The. Story,’ Mum growled. Seriously, someone get the lady a Strepsil.
‘Well, I couldn’t upload the photo without the selfie stick. It just wouldn’t have worked with the rest of the vibe of Fritz’s feed. It’s very specific and artistic. And I didn’t have any appropriate stock photos I could use instead. So I was just going to pop in to see Prince Gustav, ask for the selfie stick for five minutes and that would be that! But he wasn’t there.’
‘So you just . . . decided to break in and steal it?’ Mum asked slowly.
‘You know, when you say it like that, it really sounds a lot worse than it was. I mean, technically Prince Gustav stole the stick from me.’
Mum closed her eyes for a moment and let out a long, deep sigh.
Seizing the opportunity, I pulled out my phone, checking for messages. Thankfully there were no more photos of Grace with a bird on her head. There was just one from Ella reminding me that I’d borrowed her mascara at school yesterday and could she have it back. Ella can be so whiny when she wants to be. Which is a LOT of the time.
‘I guess we’re done here,’ I said, preparing to stand up.
‘Not. Quite.’
I slumped back into the seat. Mum walked slowly around the desk to sit down in the large leather chair behind it. She put her head back and looked up at the ceiling before ever so slowly lowering her eyes back down to meet mine. Talk about dramatic.
‘Mum, I really have to get back to my friend. It’s important.’ I waved my phone about.
‘I’m sure the important business of a fourteen-year-old can wait while we try to get to the bottom of why you took it upon yourself to break into Prince Gustav’s hotel room.’
‘I told you, to get my selfie stick. Mum, were you even listening? I just explained the whole thing.’
‘Did I or did I not ask you to do without it. For. One. Night?’
‘I was going to put it back,’ I pointed out. ‘Mum, no offence, but you’re kind of overreacting.’
Mum pinched the top of her nose, which is a signal that she is concentrating. Hard.
It is highly dangerous to interrupt her when she is pinching the top of her nose. I know this because I once interrupted her pinching the top of her nose at a cashpoint. She’d had a mind blank about her PIN and all I did was point out that she was being really embarrassing standing in the street, pinching the top of her nose. According to her, she had been this close to remembering her pin but my ‘loud’ interruption had disturbed her and so her card got swallowed. She spent the next few days droning on and on about how frustrating it was to be waiting for a new debit card and then giving me pointed looks. The word ‘scapegoat’ comes to mind.
Whatever, I selflessly let that one go. But I know now never to interrupt the weird, nose-pinching thing.
I began texting Ella back while I waited for Mum to conclude her nose-pinching, but stopped when Audrey gave a not-so-subtle ‘ahem’, and waggled her eyebrows at me. I put my phone back in my pocket.
‘I want you to listen to me very carefully, Felicity,’ Mum began, lowering her hand and opening her eyes. ‘You are going to go and see Prince Gustav – NOT when you decide, Audrey will book an appointment with him – and you will be on time for the appointment and you will apologise profusely for your behaviour and assure him that nothing like this will ever happen again. Is that clear?’
‘Crystal. Audrey, let me know a time that suits. Can I go now?’
‘I’m. Not. Finished.’ Mum clasped her hands together, resting them on the desk. ‘You will be grounded for two weeks.’
‘WHAT?’ I sat upright, disturbing Fritz who snarled loudly. ‘You can’t do that! It’s Ella’s party next week!’
‘I can do that, and you’re lucky it’s only two weeks and not longer. In addition, you will help around the hotel in whatever way Audrey and Matthew see fit. If you’re going to be stuck here every evening, you might as well make yourself useful.’
‘Are you serious?’ I looked at her in disbelief. ‘Like . . . chores?’
Audrey stifled a laugh. Traitor.
‘Yes, chores. I suggest you begin by helping the catering team in the kitchen. I’m sure they have some dishes that need washing. You can start right now.’
‘Well, what am I supposed to tell Ella?’ I huffed. ‘She was counting on me going to her party.’
‘You can tell her that your mother is punishing you because you broke into the room of Prince Gustav Xavier III and you’re lucky he’s not pressing charges.’ She stood up and gestured towards the door, indicating the end of the conversation. ‘I’m sure Ella will be able to handle your absence from her party with grace and understanding.’
I snorted.
Clearly, Mum had never met Ella before. Last time she invited me to one of her ‘exclusive’ sleepovers, I couldn’t go because my aunt was over from New York. I’ve never been invited to one again.
‘What about Fritz?’ I argued, after the party plea didn’t work.
‘What about Fritz?’
‘I need to walk him and stuff.’
‘You can fit that in around your chores. Or you can ask Jamie if he will kindly take him on an extra-long walk during the day.’
Jamie was one of the sommeliers and also Fritz’s daytime walker. He was mad about dogs and offered to walk Fritz when Mum had just bought him and was working out what to do with him while I was at school. Apparently, Jamie likes to discuss the new wines he introduces to the menu with Fritz on his daily walks to the park – it helps him remember all the details about the vintages and vineyards.
‘Audrey,’ Mum continued, ‘if you could accompany Flick down to the kitchens and explain the