The Royal Babysitters Read online

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  To Anna ~ C.B.

  For my sister, Lauren ~ B.M.

  Chapter One

  One sunny summer morning, King Alaspooryorick of Daneland, after a breakfast of coffee, orange juice and roast kitten, picked up his phone and called the Queen and King of Britland.

  ‘Hello, Sheila!’ he chimed when the Queen picked up. ‘It’s Alaspooryorick! What’s up? How’s the hubby? And the kids?’

  ‘We’re not talking to you,’ said the Queen of Britland pointedly.

  ‘Oh, why not?’ asked the King.

  ‘Because you tried to invade our country on Christmas Day. And then again at Easter.’

  ‘I get bored on bank holidays,’ explained Alaspooryorick.

  ‘It’s no reason to ruin them for everyone else,’ said the Queen. ‘Anyway, I’ve got to go.’

  ‘No, wait, listen to this: I’ve got great gossip about the Emir of Antarktik –’

  ‘I don’t have time for gossip,’ snapped the Queen. ‘The King and I are busy packing. We’re going on our annual day of holiday to the Independent Republic of Slough.’

  ‘What? Today?’

  ‘Yes, today. The whole castle’s on leave.’

  ‘The whole castle?’ repeated Alaspooryorick. ‘Everyone’s away?’

  ‘Yes. Well, not the children. They’re getting a babysitter. Bliss! So if you’ll excuse me, I need to go pack my flip-flops.’ She hung up on him.

  King Alaspooryorick watched the silent holes of the phone as if mesmerised, following which he declared:

  ‘Today is a very good day – in fact, the perfect day – to sail to the shores of Britland for an invasion!’

  King Alaspooryorick loved invasions, and Britland had long been his dream target. He knew that the Queen and King of Britland had an indoor swimming pool with a brilliant red-and-blue waterslide, and a vast cellar containing two hundred and seventeen different Francian cheeses. And he simply had to slide down that slide, and he simply had to taste every one of those cheeses.

  ‘Get my invasion kit ready!’ he ordered one of his minions. ‘And my spare umbrella-hat! I’m just popping out to attack Britland.’

  ‘Again?’ asked the minion. ‘It’s the third time –’

  ‘I know, I know, but this time’s different,’ snapped Alaspooryorick. ‘Get my stuff!’

  ‘OK, Your Majesty,’ said the minion, ‘but you haven’t got any clean pants left, because you locked the laundry man in the Royal Rabbit Hutch when he shrank your bunny costume.’

  ‘Then I’ll reuse the pants from last week,’ roared the King. ‘Don’t tell Mother.’

  Ten minutes later, he was ready to go.

  Chapter Two

  Early that same sunny summer morning, well-behaved, bespectacled Holly Burnbright and her rather stormier little sister, Anna, were ambling along the beach near Doverport, their small seaside village in South Britland. Behind them stood the Royal Castle, perched colourfully on white cliffs nibbled gently by the waves. The sky above was full of seagulls. They seemed to be having a ball.

  Anna, however, was not having a ball. She had been in a bad mood for seven or eight years. And this particular morning she was particularly stroppy for a particular reason:

  ‘This holiday is the worst in the world. Who spends holidays at home?’ she moaned. ‘My life is basically: school, home, school, holidays at home, school.’

  ‘So?’ said her sister.

  ‘So!’ exclaimed Anna. ‘Hibiscus Beckett is going to summer camp on a submarine and playing underwater ultimate frisbee with octopuses. And what am I doing? Kicking stones around on the beach!’

  She kicked a stone, which turned out to be a rolled-up blue crab. It flew through the air and landed on an old lady’s belly.

  ‘You’re so grumpy,’ said Holly. ‘The world is full of fabulously interesting things!’

  She scanned the beach in search of one.

  ‘Hey, that’s interesting!’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ said Anna, ‘it’s a starfish.’

  ‘But, look, it’s windsurfing! Isn’t that interesting?’

  ‘It’s not interesting, it’s just showing off.’

  ‘Well, how about that?’ suggested Holly, pointing at the sky.

  ‘It’s a cloud,’ replied Anna.

  ‘But it looks exactly like your face! Isn’t that interesting?’

  ‘It’s not interesting, it’s just rude.’ The cloud’s face seemed to be sticking its tongue out.

  Holly tried to spot more interesting things, but a gust of wind sent an old newspaper crashing against her face. Which is how she saw the advert.

  ‘Wow!’ said Anna. ‘Volcano scuba-diving! A Mars bar! Baby-elephant polo! And a TV with three million channels! Three million! We absolutely HAVE to go on that holiday. We absolutely CAN’T NOT go.’

  Holly nodded. But then she frowned, pointing to the small print at the bottom of the advert:

  £500 per person

  Being the older sister by ten months, and well aware that it made her the more grown-up one, she knew it was her duty to tell Anna. ‘We don’t have enough money.’

  ‘Of course we do!’ scoffed Anna. ‘Let’s look.’

  They turned their pockets over on to the sand.

  ‘I don’t think that’s quite enough,’ said Holly. They had: four shells, two hairbands, five assorted sweets, a snail (who must have got there by accident) and a toy car.

  ‘I guess we’ll have to stick to this wholly not Holy Moly Holiday,’ said Holly.

  ‘No way!’ exclaimed Anna. ‘I can’t stay alive knowing there’s a holiday like that somewhere and that I’m not on it. You’re the thinking one, so think: where can we get five hundred pounds each?’

  Holly pondered, scratching her chin.

  They couldn’t ask their mum.

  Mum was a writer of ABC books. She was paid one pound per letter. There are twenty-six letters in the alphabet, so she earned twenty-six pounds per book, with no hope of ever getting a raise.

  They couldn’t ask their dad.

  Dad had disappeared whilst working as a dentist at the local zoo. He’d been flossing the teeth of a sabretooth tiger when he’d mistaken the pelican for a dustbin – pressing its foot to open its beak. The pelican had taken offence, gobbled him up, and flown away. No one had seen them since.

  There was only one solution.

  ‘We have to find a job.’

  Chapter Three

  Holly and Anna walked into the only job agency in Doverport, which was squeezed between a doctor’s surgery and the Royal Bank of Britland.

  ‘Why, hello, there,’ said the man at the desk, whose name tag said Nestor. ‘What can I do for you, young ladies?’

  ‘We are looking for a job,’ explained Holly. ‘One that would pay something like five hundred pounds.’

  ‘Each,’ added Anna.

  ‘That’s a lot of money,’ said Nestor. ‘Let me see what job adverts I have that would fit …’

  While he was rummaging through his
files, Anna and Holly looked at the ads on the wall:

  ‘Ah,’ said Nestor. ‘I have a job here for a dental nurse at the local budgie clinic.’

  ‘That’s perfect, thank you very much,’ said Holly. ‘We’ll take it.’

  ‘Splendid!’ said Nestor. ‘So you have twenty-five years of professional experience in bird dentistry?’

  ‘Er, no,’ said Holly. ‘We’re not even ten years old.’

  ‘But we’ll learn!’ Anna promised.

  ‘You’ll learn?!’ said Nestor, suddenly annoyed. ‘It’s not easy to put braces on a battling, biting budgerigar, you know! Look at my middle finger!’

  ‘I can’t see it,’ said Holly.

  ‘Precisely!’ squealed Nestor. ‘I’m afraid you don’t qualify for bird dentistry. What else … ? A local circus is looking for a couple of contortionists.’

  ‘That’s the ideal job,’ said Anna. ‘We’re incredibly flexible. Look!’

  ‘Suitable candidates must be able to fold themselves into a matchbox, sing “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round” in fluent Griffin and be able to fly by flapping their ears,’ said Nestor. ‘Can you do that?’

  ‘No,’ said Holly. ‘Can anyone do that?’

  ‘Many people. But you two don’t qualify for this job either. That’s all I’ve got in the five-hundred-pound range, I’m afraid. The other jobs are only one pound an hour.’

  ‘Let me see,’ said Holly. ‘That means we’d have to work five hundred hours each, in, erm, one day, no – five hundred days each for an hour –’

  ‘THAT ONE!’ yelled Anna.

  ‘What?’ said Nestor, startled.

  ‘That’s the job we want!’

  ‘The first of August is … today,’ said Holly. ‘Just one day of work, and then we’ve got the money to go on holiday!’

  ‘Sign us up for that!’ exclaimed Anna.

  ‘Oh no!’ said Nestor. ‘You wouldn’t survive one second.’

  ‘Why?’ said Anna. ‘How hard can it be?’

  ‘Very hard,’ said Nestor. ‘I don’t like to speak ill of royalty, but they’re not the easiest people to deal with.’

  ‘Actually, that’s true, Anna,’ said Holly. ‘Remember last year, when everyone had to dye their hair red, white and blue to celebrate the King finally learning to tie his shoelaces?’

  ‘They’re not difficult; they’re just bonkers,’ said Anna. ‘What’s the prince’s name?’

  ‘Bertie,’ said Nestor. ‘But –’

  ‘Bertie! Great! I can’t wait to meet Bertie. Can you wait to meet Bertie, Holly?’

  ‘Well, I …’ mumbled Holly.

  ‘No, you can’t. Call the palace, Nestor!’

  ‘All right,’ Nestor muttered, ‘but don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

  Creeeek! Creeeeek! He dialled on the old-fashioned handset.

  ‘Hello? King Steve? Hi! It’s Nestor,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, fine, and you? Good. Sorry to disturb you, but I’ve got two people here who want to apply for the position of prince-sitter and –’

  The two girls heard screams of joy coming from the other end of the line, then the pop of a champagne bottle being opened.

  And the voice of the King resonated through the room:

  ‘TELL THEM TO COME IMMEDIATELY!’

  Chapter Four

  Under a sky as blue as a kingfisher, over grass as green as spearmint, Holly and Anna hurried towards the castle. Its jewelled walls shone red, blue and white, and also pink, purple, turquoise and neon orange in the sunlight. The flag of Britland was proudly flapping in the wind, and so were a large number of royal undergarments hung on a washing line between two turrets.

  ‘A great day for prince-sitting!’ declared Anna.

  Holly was slightly worried. ‘Mum says I’m in charge of you when she’s at work. Does that make me a prince-sitter-sitter? I’m not sure I’m qualified.’

  ‘Stop fretting. Look, the happy parents are waiting for us.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ said the King to the Queen. ‘Don’t they look like the best prince-sitters we could have found?’

  ‘The absolute best, since they’re the only ones!’ said the Queen. ‘Right-o, time to go. We’ll be back around teatime if we don’t get a puncture. Here’s the To-Do List!’

  The Royal Couple shook the sisters’ hands and cycled off.

  Holly and Anna stared at the piece of paper.

  ‘This sounds more complicated than I thought,’ said Holly. ‘Maybe there’s still time to run after them and say we’re not sure we can –’

  ‘Stop it, Holly!’ interrupted Anna. ‘Holy Moly Holiday, here we come! Let’s get to work.’

  They walked upstairs and peeked into the dining hall. It looked like a carrot-puree bomb had exploded.

  ‘I don’t think we were this messy when we were babies,’ murmured Holly.

  ‘Oh, come on. It’s just a few crumbs!’ said Anna, before slipping on a splodge of puree.

  They crept down the south corridor. Holly tried not to think about the shiny trails of dribble and the pong of dirty nappies, which got worse and worse the further they went.

  Finally, they reached a big double-door on which was written: NURSERY. Beware of toxic substances, dangerous irritants and noxious fumes. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

  They pushed the door open …

  ‘Six princes!’ Anna whistled. ‘They didn’t mention that on the job advert.’

  ‘We can’t look after all those toddlers at once,’ said Holly. ‘Even with two arms each, that leaves another two running free. Quick, let’s get out of here.’

  But Anna wasn’t listening. ‘I wonder which one is Bertie?’ she said as she crept closer to the snoring toddlers.

  Holly pointed to the engraved marble plaque behind the cage cot.

  ‘That’s a lot of names to remember,’ said Anna. ‘Let’s just call them all Bertie instead.’

  ‘I wonder which one of them will become King,’ said Holly.

  ‘NONE of that LOT will EVER become KING!’ a loud voice behind them answered. ‘Because that’s my job!’

  They turned around.

  ‘And who might you be?’ asked Holly.

  ‘I am Prince Pepino Phlox Amadeus Fitzroy the Capricious, soon to be King Pepino the First. That is, when Mum and Dad finally decide to retire.’

  ‘Are we supposed to babysit you as well?’ asked Anna.

  The prince turned cranberry red. ‘Babysit me?! What cheek! I am nine and three quarters! Can’t you tell?’

  ‘Well, I would have said nine and two quarters,’ said Holly politely. ‘You see, you’re not extremely wrinkled yet, so you don’t look that old.’

  ‘I suppose that’s true,’ said Prince Pepino, smiling smugly. He looked at his wrist, on which he’d drawn a watch in felt tip.

  ‘Oh, wow! Is it ice-cream time already? Right, I’ll leave you to your job. Bye!’

  ‘Wait!’ said Anna. ‘Why haven’t your parents taken you along on holiday?’

  ‘I’m too old to go on holiday with Mum and Dad!’ he scoffed.

  ‘Well, then, why couldn’t you be the prince-sitter?’

  ‘Why on earth would I do that?’

  ‘To … earn some money?’ suggested Anna.

  ‘I duncare about money!’

  ‘To … spend some time with your little brothers?’ suggested Holly.

  ‘I duncare about my brothers!’

  ‘To … help your parents?’ suggested both sisters.

  ‘Help them? I super duper duncare! I said I wanted a boa constrictor and instead they had sextuplets! Well, they did get me the boa in the end, but they still wouldn’t get rid of the brothers.’

  Holly shivered as she caught sight of a
long, glistening thing winding its way out of the open door and down the corridor.

  But she didn’t have time to think much about it, because that was when the Noise started.

  ‘RED ALERT! RED ALERT!’ yelled Prince Pepino. ‘THEY’RE WAKING UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

  Chapter Five

  ‘Make them shut up! Make them shut up!’ ordered Pepino, bashing Holly and Anna’s heads with his squeaky plastic sceptre.

  ‘Ouch!’ shouted Anna. ‘Stop it! How do we make them shut up?’

  ‘Plug them in! Plug them in!’ yelled the prince, jumping around like a kangaroo.

  ‘In what?’ asked Anna.

  The prince looked shocked. ‘The cow, of course! What did they teach you at prince-sitting school?’

  ‘Of course!’ said Anna, remembering the list. ‘It’s ten o’clock – feeding time. The cow is in the kitchens. Where are the kitchens?’

  ‘Downstairs! Downstairs!’

  ‘There’s no need to say everything twice,’ said Holly as Anna ran downstairs.

  ‘OK! OK!’ replied Pepino.

  Downstairs in the kitchens the cow was patiently waiting. It was huge and royal blue, like all full-fat, royal milk cows should be.

  ‘Come along,’ said Anna, ‘we’re going upstairs to feed the princes.’

  Back in the nursery the atmosphere was pure noise, mostly coming from Prince Pepino, who was standing with his hands on his ears, singing the anthem of Britland at the top of his voice.