Queenie Malone's Paradise Hotel by Ruth Hogan

Author:Ruth Hogan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2020-02-10T16:00:00+00:00

23

Tilly

Why has Queenie got a dead dog on her poof?”

Tilly and her mother had unpacked and were now taking in the remarkable splendor of the guests’ sitting room while waiting for their promised cups of tea. It was clear from their surroundings that Queenie’s style of interior decor was as flamboyant and individual as her fashion sense. Eli, who had appeared in their room soon after Queenie had left it, showed little interest in the rather odd-looking Pembrokeshire corgi, but Tilly was fascinated. She poked at its fur with a tentative finger and then, with more confidence, at one of its dark, glossy eyes.

“It’s stuffed,” she pronounced.

The taxidermist must have been having an off day, for he had condemned the unfortunate little dog to both an expression and a posture that suggested the poor creature was suffering from the discomfort of severe constipation. The dog’s face was ruched into an anxious frown and was staring in the direction of his own bottom. Tilly had once seen a glass case full of stuffed animals on a school trip to a museum. The rest of the exhibits had been very boring: old bits of broken pottery, funny-shaped rocks that were supposedly ancient tools but looked like stones that you could find all over the place in your own garden, and bits of old wooden farming equipment. The most exciting thing about the whole trip was when Rosemary Watson was sick on the bus. That and the glass case. It had held a fascination for Tilly that she didn’t really understand.

“The eyes are made of glass,” she said, adopting the manner of someone who was an expert in these matters.

“The real eyes would have gone squidgy and moldy and dribbled out onto the floor by now.”

She paused in thought for a moment.

“Which hole do you think they put the stuffing in? His mouth or his—”

Tilly’s question was cut short by the grand entrance of Queenie, bearing a huge tray draped in an elaborate lace doily and laden with tea things. Puffing gently with the effort, she set it down on a side table covered in a heavily fringed, red chenille tablecloth, and was just about to pour when the telephone rang in the hallway. Queenie bustled out again, inviting them to help themselves. Tilly was growing more impressed by the minute. First there had been the lovely Queenie and their beautiful room with its view of the pier; and now there was a stuffed dog and a telephone. Tilly didn’t know many people who had a telephone inside their own house, or a stuffed dog for that matter. Her mother poured her a milky cup of tea and handed it to her.

“Now be careful not to spill it, Tilly. I think you would have been better off with a little mug,” she added, almost to herself. But Tilly was delighted to be treated like a grown-up with a proper cup and saucer for once.

“Can I have some sugar please?”

Tilly’s mother raised her eyebrows in puzzled surprise.

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