Chaos At Christmas – Episode 28
Chaos At Christmas by Ewan Smith
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- 1. Chaos At Christmas – Episode 28
A delivery driver in a blue uniform appeared through the doors of the hotel pushing a trolley filled with all kinds of packages. He parked it by the reception desk and looked curiously up at the ceiling. “What’s happening at the Manor? It sounds like party central going on here today.”
Erik just sighed and held up a hand. “Don’t go there.” He peered over the desk at the contents of the trolley. “So what’s all this?”
The driver looked at his clipboard. “It’s a whole bunch of parcels for a Mr Klaws.” He peered at the name with a frown.
This isn’t some sort of Christmas joke, is it?
“I’m afraid not,” Erik said wearily. “Can we keep the trolley for the time being?”
“No problem. I’ll collect it again next time.” He lifted his phone. He always took a photo as a confirmation that his parcels had been delivered. “Smile, please.” Ferelith did so though she suspected that Erik didn’t. “Thanks for that. Have a good Christmas.”
“And you,” the two of them called after him. Erik wandered round to the front of the desk and peered at the parcels. “I shudder to think what’s in these. But I’ll get a porter to take them upstairs.”
Ferelith shook her head. “There’s no need for that. I’ll do it.”
Erik lifted an eyebrow. “We have some ear-plugs if you would like.”
The lift gave a cheerful beep and its doors slid open. Ferelith began to push the trolley out but then she stopped in astonishment. Her mouth sagged open. “Good grief…”
It was as if the whole of the hotel’s first floor had become one big party. There were people everywhere wandering in and out of each other’s room. Children were running around, champagne bottles were being waved about, there was chatter and laughter filling the air.
And through it all, music boomed from one of the suites at the end of the corridor; she could feel the vibrations through the floor. She shook her head slowly. It didn’t seem possible that this was happening at the Manor.
She made slow progress with the trolley along the corridor, constantly having to apologise to the people blocking her way. But no one minded moving; they were all having such a good time.
“Ferelith!” came a shout. Holly and Bree rushed up to her. “Are you here to join the party?”
“Working, I’m afraid,” she said with a rueful look. “I’m looking for DJ Klaws. Have you seen him?”
Bree pointed towards the end of the corridor. “He’s there somewhere. That’s Party HQ. We got a selfie with him, it’s amazing.” She held out her phone in excitement. “Shall I show you?”
Ferelith smiled. “Maybe later.”
“And he said that we could join his band one day,” Holly added eagerly. “I’m going to be on bass guitar and Bree will be on the drums.”
“I’ll look forward to that,” Ferelith laughed. She waved and pushed on with the trolley. “Enjoy yourselves, girls.”
She wasn’t quite sure what to expect but the suite, when she came to it, was something of a surprise. The music was actually coming from a neighbouring room and, instead of being filled with noisy chaos, DJ Klaws’s own room was rather peaceful.
There were plenty of people around, including the other members of the band, but they were lounging about chatting quietly. DJ Klaws himself, wearing a dressing gown, slippers and glasses, was sitting in an armchair reading a newspaper with a cup of tea on the table at his side.
He glanced over the top of his glasses as the trolley appeared and, at once, his eyes lit up. “That’s what we’re looking for.” Folding the paper neatly and putting it down, he got to his feet and held out his hand with a smile. “Hi there, I’m Donald Klaws. Call me DJ.”
“Ferelith,” she smiled.
“Now that’s a lovely name.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t mind helping us with a scene, would you, Ferelith?”
A scene?
He nodded to a couple of cameramen who were getting their equipment ready. “For my reality TV show back home, DJ On The Spin. Have you seen it?”
“Well…”
“It’s Christmas Eve and the band needs to be seen to be partying. Are you alright with that?”
“Er…”
“These parcels are some new costumes for me and the band but don’t worry about that; they’re for later. All you need to do is make your entrance again and then go with the flow.”
“Make my entrance again?” She was getting more confused by the minute. However, an assistant ushered her out of the room with the trolley and began to give her a stream of instructions.
The music in the neighbouring room was switched off and, moments later, different music started up from DJ Klaws’s room. With a “Smile, now – you’re on camera!” the assistant gave her the signal. Beaming for all she was worth, Ferelith pushed the trolley back into the room with a lively “Parcels for DJ Klaws!”
The scene in the room had completely changed. DJ and the band were now in their familiar leather gear – the slippers and glasses had gone – and they seemed to be in the middle of a jam session. When DJ spotted her, he hurriedly stopped it. The music died away and he gazed at her in awe. “Wow – you British babes are gorgeous!” He began to fan himself with a sheet of music as if he suddenly felt too hot.
“Are we?” Ferelith said uncertainly.
“Music – give us music, guys,” DJ cried and, with the cameramen recording everything, the music started up again; but this time it was dramatic, sensuous tango music.
DJ strode up to Ferelith, took her firmly in his arms, and began leading her in a dance around the room. “Goodness,” she gasped.
He gave her a quick wink. “Don’t worry, it’s just a bit of fun for the cameras,” he murmured. Before she could reply, he had done a very neat slide past an armchair and was whirling her out onto the balcony where another cameraman was waiting. “Why did I never come to London before?” he called out in an anguished voice to the skies.
This is a city of angels!
He suddenly moved forward so that she had to grab him tightly to stop herself doing a triple somersault over the railings. “You gorgeous thing,” he growled, moving in close but carefully keeping his profile to the camera. Ferelith gazed up at him in shock; she wasn’t at all sure what was about to happen next. And it was then, from the corner of her eye, that she caught a glimpse of Geraint holding a battered-looking poinsettia in his hand gazing up at the scene in horror.
Ferelith turned in her chair and gazed wearily at the security room. She was surrounded by the gifts which Lyle had brought with him to be given to his guests at the Christmas Eve party. Of course, they were amazing and Ferelith shuddered to think how much the contents of the room were worth right at that moment.
But it was her job to make sure that there was a gift for every guest and that they were all correctly labelled and packaged. And she couldn’t seem to focus her mind on the task.
She kept thinking of Geraint. He had looked so horrified earlier when he had seen her in the arms of DJ Klaws on the balcony. The sight of his face gazing up at them seemed to have seared itself on her memory.
