by Tim Harris
‘Chegwin, petal, can we come in?’ said Mrs Toffle.
Chegwin’s brain was beginning to feel like mashed potato. The imaginative side was too busy arguing with the logical side for him to give an answer. Half of him wanted to ask his parents if they were hiding anything, but the other half was fearing the worst … What if there was someone else they loved more than him? It was better not to think about the hotel’s money at the same time, or his entire head might just explode.
Mrs Toffle waited a moment to see if her son would respond, then slowly pushed open the door. Mr Toffle followed her in and they sat at the edge of his bed.
‘We wanted to apologise for something,’ said Mr Toffle, who was wearing a T-shirt by the band Bloated Toads and Goats on Boats.
Chegwin’s heart rate doubled. Had they come to tell him about his brother?
‘We haven’t been around much lately to make sure you’re doing okay with everything,’ said Mr Toffle. ‘We know you’ve been busy with the hotel, but it’s no excuse for our recent distance. We’re sorry, son. We’ll try to spend less time in town and more time at the hotel. Especially now that you have a few bookings.’
‘Um …’ Chegwin was even more muddled. He couldn’t meet his parents’ eyes. Why couldn’t they just tell him he had a brother? Why were they keeping it a secret? He scratched his head in confusion. An apology for their absence was the last thing he’d expected.
Mr Toffle looked at his wife. ‘Should we tell him the other news?’
Mrs Toffle stood up and shook her head. ‘No, now is not the time. I can see he’s distracted. Come on, let’s leave him be.’
Chegwin didn’t feel like eating anything else after that. He pushed the plate away and stared out the window at the hotel. Confusion was now running riot in both sides of his mind. So much so that he almost didn’t notice his parents walk across the lawn to the right wing. The light in room 49 flicked on moments later.
‘It’s a beautiful morning for a walk,’ said Pepper. ‘I’m glad you could join me.’
Chegwin managed a nod.
‘What’s up?’ she asked. ‘You look worried.’
As they made their way down the hill towards the river, Chegwin told Pepper about the situation with his parents. He shared how he desperately wanted to ask them about his brother, but that he felt so betrayed by the secret it hurt his brain to think about it. He told her about the missing photos in the album, the slide he’d found in the storeroom and about room 49. The only thing he didn’t tell her about was the budget. She hadn’t mentioned anything about her pay not going through, so Chegwin thought it was best not to bring it up.
‘I think they’re keeping Milton in room forty-nine,’ he said. ‘I just don’t know why they’re hiding him there, and Lawrence keeps telling me he can’t find the key. Maybe he’s in on it too?’
‘You’ve got a real mystery on your hands,’ said Pepper. ‘It sounds like the only way to solve it is by being honest and asking your parents about it.’
‘I don’t know how to,’ said Chegwin. ‘My brain keeps freezing every time I get the chance.’
Pepper stopped walking and nudged him in the arm. ‘Trust, man. I told you that before. The more honest you are, the easier relationships become. It’s not rocket science.’
Rocket science.
‘That reminds me,’ said Chegwin, who now remembered what he had wanted to tell Pepper, ‘we’re relaunching the restaurant tonight.’
‘I thought that might have been the news,’ said Pepper. ‘It’s a good thing you ordered extra food earlier this week. Nice one, boss.’
They reached a familiar section of the road and Pepper looked quickly over her shoulder before jumping over the wooden fence. ‘I’ll need a lot more cash today. If we’re reopening tonight, I have to pick up extra things in town and they must be the highest quality.’
Pepper retrieved several large notes from her stash, then carefully positioned the ferns back over the tree stump. She tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear and looked Chegwin in the eye. ‘Like I said … trust, man.’
The pair reached the main street and Pepper made a beeline towards the grocer. ‘Before I get down to business, you’re going to meet another one of the local characters.’ She pushed the door open and walked inside. ‘Morning, Mrs Rottam.’
‘Morning, Pepper. Who have you got with you there?’
‘This is my boss, Chegwin. He’s the manager at Toffle Towers.’
‘Ah, yes, I heard there was a youngster in charge.’
Mrs Rottam was dressed in green overalls. She was nuggety in stature, having spent much of her youth as the prop forward in her local rugby team.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Chegwin.
Pepper pointed to one of the fruit stands. ‘Chegwin would like to order something, Mrs Rottam.’
‘Would I?’ said Chegwin.
Pepper nudged him with her elbow.
‘Oh, right. Yes, I would. I’d like some grapes, please.’
‘Anything else?’ said Mrs Rottam.
‘They need to be green,’ said Chegwin.
‘Is that all?’
‘And great. They must be great.’
Pepper was already giggling.
But Mrs Rottam caught on. ‘Hang on, hang on … Are you tongue twisting me?’
‘Yes!’ cried Chegwin.
‘Be careful,’ said Mrs Rottam with a laugh, ‘or I’ll give you grotty, greasy, gross grapes.’
‘Oh, you’re good,’ said Pepper. ‘But don’t worry, Chegwin and I will think of a way to get you in time.’
‘Never in a million years!’ Mrs Rottam laughed again and slammed her hand down on one of the watermelons on display. Years of packing into scrums had given her the strength of an ox and she smashed the melon clean through, sending wet fruit flying in all directions across the shop. ‘Oops.’
Chegwin had to hold his breath to stop himself from giggling to death. He liked the locals here.
And they had just given him a new idea.
Later that morning, after his lesson with Mrs Flibbernut, Chegwin sat in his office and logged in to check his emails. The first message was from the bank.
‘Honk!’
‘Doc, what are you doing here?’
Rufus’s pet goose had suddenly appeared next to Chegwin’s oak desk, seemingly out of thin air.
‘I thought we left you in the basement? Did you get hungry?’
Chegwin reached down to grab Doc but, quick as a flash, the goose waddled through the open door and into the lobby.
Doc’s exit was followed by several hard knocks on the office door. Chegwin looked up to see his entire staff standing outside. None of them were smiling.
Chegwin knew right away that they had worked things out. ‘Come in,’ he said softly.
The eight employees of Toffle Towers made their way into the small office.
Katie entered first, shaking her head and looking wistfully at the astrophysics book she carried in one hand. ‘How am I going to pay for my studies?’
Mikey appeared next, popping out from behind the office door. Despite wearing a distinctly cheerful Hawaiian shirt, he was frowning.
‘How do you do that so quickly?’ Chegwin mused. ‘And in those shirts …’
Dusty was next through the door, with Mildew by his side. He placed a Monopoly jail card on the oak desk. ‘You have some explaining to do, young man.’
Dean leaned against the back wall. He appeared to be more relaxed than the others, likely due to the fact he had received a substantial advance just days before. He took a sip from the cup of coffee he was holding.
Barry walked in and slouched on the chair across the desk from Chegwin. ‘Why didn’t you tell me the restaurant was going to cost so much flamin’ money?!’
Lawrence entered next and stood as far away from Barry as possible.
Pepper squeezed her way into the front of the office. There were shiny streaks on her cheeks. ‘Trust, man. You were w
ith me all morning … Not once did you tell me there was no money left.’ Her voice was hurt, but it also contained an edge of anger.
Chegwin wanted to look Pepper in the eye. He wanted to look them all in the eye. But all he could do was stare at his lap.
There was a long pause.
‘What do you have to say for yourself?’ said Mildew.
‘He’s probably daydreaming,’ said Mikey.
‘We demand an explanation, Master Chegwin,’ said Lawrence. ‘You have somehow managed to drain the hotel of its remaining funds in less than a month.’
‘We want answers,’ said Katie. ‘You told me you would look into it.’
Chegwin’s gaze was still firmly in his lap. He was thinking. Sheer panic had done something to his brain that hadn’t happened since the time his remote-controlled car spilled eggs on the driveway at his old house. The imaginative and logical sides were working hard to come to a complete truce. They had to function together to fix this problem.
The boy’s mind raced at a million miles per hour, putting together the pieces of the puzzle in an obscure, Chegwin-shaped way.
There were three particular pieces of the puzzle he couldn’t quite fit: the staff were angry, there was no money left, and the restaurant was ready. He couldn’t ask the staff to do any more work because he couldn’t pay them. But he needed them to work in the restaurant for the launch. He had to convince them to stay for one more day. But how do you get through to people when their minds are set in a certain way? Who was someone who got through to him when he was always dreaming?
His father and mother, yes, but he couldn’t even face them at the moment.
That left Mrs Flibbernut.
She could always get through to him. What would his teacher do in this situation? She would drink coffee. She would be dramatic. She would give a rousing speech.
‘Dean, pass me that cup,’ said Chegwin.
‘This one?’ said Dean, clearly surprised.
‘Yes, that one,’ said Chegwin. ‘Now, please.’
‘Er, okay.’ Dean stepped forward and handed the boy his coffee.
Chegwin took a sip. Bitter, lukewarm liquid spilled down his throat. He gagged. ‘Well, that wasn’t what I expected,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure what all the fuss over coffee is about. Right, next step.’
He suddenly stood on his chair and stepped onto his desk. ‘Good people of Alandale, I commend you for your work at Toffle Towers.’ He used his hands to draw the shape of the hotel, then marched back and forth along the desk like an army sergeant.
‘He’s out of his flamin’ mind,’ whispered Barry.
‘Many years ago,’ continued Chegwin, ‘the hotel’s finances were sky high.’ He jumped up and grabbed hold of the ceiling fan, spinning in a wide circle above the bemused staff. ‘But now,’ he said, dropping back to the desk, ‘the money has run out.’ He lay down and played dead.
Mildew crossed her arms and frowned.
Chegwin sprang back to life and leapt to his feet. ‘The situation may be bad, but we have a secret weapon.’ He pointed an imaginary gun at the wall and pulled the trigger. ‘Bang!’
Mikey shook his head.
‘We have, in our great hotel, a world-class restaurant that is ready to relaunch. It’s the first of its kind, and it will surely make headlines.’ He waved his hands in front of his face as if he were performing a modern contemporary dance piece.
‘I’m sorry for not telling you about the money … I truly am. I didn’t want you to worry about your jobs. It’s the reason I came here in the first place. I promised myself I would save Toffle Towers for the sake of its staff. So I urge you,’ said Chegwin, ‘to stick around. The hotel needs you more than ever before.’ He locked eyes with Pepper. ‘A wise person once told me that you should never leave something until you’ve seen it all the way through.’
The words seemed to impact Pepper and she took a deep breath.
Chegwin now stood tall and looked at the faces of his staff. He fiddled excitedly with the loose button on his shirt. ‘Just this morning I thought of another idea that will give us bookings galore. We will surely become more popular than that blasted Braxton Hotel!’
Barry nodded in agreement. ‘It’s blasted.’
Chegwin continued. ‘Tonight we will take back our rightful place as the finest hotel in Alandale!’
The eight staff members leaned forward.
‘Go on then,’ said Pepper. ‘You have our attention.’
Chegwin smiled. ‘First of all, we have to visit every shop in Alandale …’
‘That’s the last of the advertising banners in place, mate,’ said Barry.
He and Dean stepped back from the delicatessen and admired their handiwork.
‘Brilliant bacon,’ said Dean.
‘Flamin’ awesome,’ said Barry.
Although the sign had been crudely put together, the message was clear.
Chegwin’s brilliant idea worked on the simple notion that if you help someone, they will likely help you back. The young hotel manager had approached every small business in Alandale with an offer too good to refuse. Chegwin promised to order all of his supplies from their stores, thus skyrocketing their income. In return, he would be granted exclusive advertising rights for Toffle Towers.
The local businesses were run by real people. They weren’t just computer programs that processed orders. No, these were colourful characters who lived for their work. It made sense to do business with them. Much like Pepper was doing already, but on a much larger scale.
Thanks to his rousing speech – which ended with him diving off the desk to illustrate commitment – Chegwin had won the support of his staff, including Barry and Dean, who had made banners for each and every shop front. The town was now decked out in the same sparkly blue as the new Toffle Towers logo.
‘Never thought I’d live to see the day, mate,’ said Barry. ‘The Braxton Hotel won’t know what hit ’em.’
‘I’ve been listening to Dusty and Mildew play Monopoly,’ said Chegwin. ‘It’s time to step up the game.’
The local advertising worked a treat. Lawrence had to ask Mikey to take over the main phones because he was too busy confirming email bookings from everyone who had seen the signs.
Barry flew Katie into town with food samples from the menu to offer to tourists as they streamed out of the bus terminal.
Dean mowed the lawns and tidied the grounds.
Pepper made a head start on desserts. Now that the sixty-thousand litres of milk had run out, there was enough room in the industrial fridge to store the large numbers of small plates and bowls she would need later on.
Dusty and Mildew put a halt to their board game in order to prepare the right wing for guests. The left side of the hotel was now entirely booked. The only room they couldn’t access was number 49 because the key still had not been found.
‘The handle won’t budge,’ said Mildew. ‘But it smells like somebody is cooking chicken soup in there. How odd.’
‘Let me try,’ said Dusty. He jigged the doorknob. ‘Hello, anybody in there?’
There was silence, and the aroma of chicken soup quickly disappeared.
Mr and Mrs Toffle looked out of their bedroom window at the buzzing hotel across the lawn.
‘If only Milton could see the impact his brother is having,’ said Mr Toffle.
Mrs Toffle smiled. ‘It’s time we told Chegwin the news.’
‘Welcome to Toffle Towers.’ Chegwin beamed. ‘Thank you for coming this evening.’
The hotel lobby was pulsing with energy. Hundreds of guests – packed in as tightly as sardines – were eager to find out about the world-first dining experience they had booked into.
Chegwin’s eyes suddenly glazed over. He was imagining what whales would look like if they had arms and legs. Would extra limbs hinder their swimming or help it? Could they do handstands on the ocean floor? Or walk onto a beach? Perhaps they could –
‘Master Chegwin, we require your full a
ttention,’ said Lawrence.
‘Right, sorry about that,’ said Chegwin.
For an occasion as important as this, the young manager required a stage for his speech. Lawrence once again got down on all fours to provide some extra height. ‘Up you go.’
Dean climbed onto Lawrence’s back.
Then Barry climbed onto Dean’s.
‘It would be easier beside me, Larry,’ said Barry.
‘I take my job very seriously,’ said Lawrence, grunting under the additional weight. ‘And how many times do I have to remind you – it’s Lawrence.’
Chegwin now stood at the summit of the wobbly tower, a microphone in his hand. He looked out over the crowd. ‘This restaurant was previously known as the Grazing Room, but I thought it was time to invest in a renovation.’ Chegwin made eye contact with Mrs Flibbernut, who had been one of the first guests to book in. ‘I decided to take a risk and try to achieve something truly great … a bit like those rock climbers do. The restaurant will no longer be known as the Grazing Room, but the Gazing Room – the world’s first gravity-free dining experience under the stars.’
Everyone cheered.
The enormous doors that led to the restaurant opened and the guests made their way over to their tables. The high ceilings – now made entirely from glass and stripped of the old chandelier – showed off the starry Alandale sky.
Chegwin continued his speech as Mikey and Katie raced around to buckle guests into their chairs. ‘You will see magnetic mesh coverings on each of the tables and chairs. They will react with the specially designed metal walls and create the sensation of zero gravity.’
Pepper gave the signal from the kitchen.
‘They say only dreamers gaze at the stars,’ said Chegwin. ‘Well, I think we should all dream a little bit more. I pronounce the Gazing Room open!’
Chegwin pressed a button and the tables and chairs lifted off the ground towards the glass ceiling. They formed a floating pattern, drifting seamlessly between each other in an intricate design, never once colliding, always with a view of the stars.
