The Very Royal Holiday Read online

  To Queen Ellen and Prince Timino ~ C.B.

  For Karen and Matt ~ B.M.

  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

  The story so far …

  For the first time in his life, the King of Britland has done something successfully. ‘To the astonishment, to be honest, of all of us,’ a spokesperson for the Royal Palace declared, ‘King Steve has won the Royal Bake Off organised by his brother, Emperor Sam of Americanada.’

  King Steve, it is rumoured, is not yet able to colour in drawings wi he lines, but last week he scored a landmark victory against Emperor Sam. His apple pie was described by Americanadian journalists as ‘just awesome’, ‘totally amazing’ and ‘super fabulous’, which in Britlander might be translated as ‘rather good’.

  King Steve seems to be on a winning streak these days, since, according to an official statement from the palace, he also managed to button up his shirt without missing any holes this morning.

  It is understood that young Prince Pepino and his friends Anna and Holly Burnbright were helpers in the Royal Bake Off, although, as King Steve was quick to point out, ‘I did it all on my own. They just brought me the ingredients. They weren’t even there during the final task.’ Indeed, the three children had no hand in King Steve’s great victory, since they were saving Americanada from an attack by the Easter Princess and her minions at the time.

  The three children, it has emerged, were thanked by Emperor Sam with a rather large amount of money, which they are planning to use to go on a Holy Moly Holiday.

  Chapter One

  Prince Pepino had always had everything he wanted in life: chocolate brownies at two in the morning, a private cinema in his bedroom, the right to read thrilling children’s books and comics instead of doing his maths homework, and a giant sunfish called Dave. Until recently, he had never needed to work to get anything he desired.

  But now that he had to work, and work, and WORK to get what he wanted most in the world – tickets to the Holy Moly Holiday with Holly and Anna – he was the happiest prince the Royal Palace of Britland had ever seen.

  On the day of the Holy Moly Holiday, he got up at four in the morning, had his cereal-and-milk breakfast ice cream and pirouetted around the castle, waking everyone.

  ‘Goodbye, Mummy! Goodbye, Daddy! Goodbye, lovely pets! And goodbye, all the Berties! I’ll miss you probably not very much … because I’m going on the coolest holiday in the history of the universe!’

  The holiday did indeed sound very cool, and the three children had not stopped thinking about it for one minute since they had spotted the advert for it earlier that summer.

  HOLY MOLY HOLIDAY!

  This summer, treat yourself to the intergalactic holiday of a lifetime - Not for the faint-hearted or the unadventurous!

  DAY 1: Scuba-dive in the molten lava of the Eyjafjallajökull volcano of Islandia!

  DAY 2: Learn to play polo on baby-elephant-back in the savannahs of Afrik!

  DAY 3: Build a faster-than-light spaceship in Americanada!

  DAY 4: Fly the faster-than-light spaceship to Mars, and have Martian cocktails at a local bar!

  DAY 5: Back to Earth! Have a rest and celebrate the end of your Holy Moly Holiday in your …

  TEN STAR HOTEL!

  With:

  * Taps of hot chocolate, lemonade and chicken soup (unlimited)

  * Marshmallow pillows (unlimited)

  * Jacuzzi in every room (the size of an Olympic swimming pool)

  * TV with three million channels (none of them boring)

  * And much more … including a

  BIG, SECRET, SURPRISE GIFT!

  Meanwhile, Holly and Anna were saying goodbye to their mum, who was a little bit worried.

  ‘Have a nice trip, my darlings, but don’t get turned into stone again, or tumble down a waterfall, or fall off a tightrope, or get trapped in catacombs, or –’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mummy,’ said Anna, rolling her eyes. ‘This time we won’t be in danger! It’s just a fun holiday!’

  Their mum wiped a tear and gave the girls a photograph of their family from when their dad was still with them.

  ‘Daddy would be so proud of you if he hadn’t been kidnapped by that pelican all those years ago,’ she said.

  Then they had a big hug. The girls dragged their suitcase all the way down to Doverport harbour, where they met Pepino, and they took a little boat to the Neitherherenortherelands. There, the Holy Moly Holiday’s special cruise ship was due to leave at midday, to sail to Islandia.

  They had packed all the stuff you need for a week-long holiday of that kind. Well, Holly and Anna had.

  As they approached the harbour in the Neitherherenortherelands, Pepino exclaimed, ‘Look at that huge pink-and-purple-and-glittery cruise ship!’

  ‘It’s ours!’ Anna marvelled. ‘It says Holy Moly Holiday in big letters on the side. And it’s got swings on the top deck!’

  ‘Ah!!!’ Pepino screamed. ‘I can’t wait! I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait!’

  And he began singing ‘Can’t wait’ to the tune of ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star’:

  ‘Can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t

  Wait, can’t wait, can’t wait, can’t wait.’

  They all jumped from the small boat to the pier.

  ‘Pepino,’ Anna interrupted, ‘you’re destroying the inside of my ears.’

  ‘You just don’t recognise good music when you hear it,’ replied Pepino.

  ‘We do,’ said Holly, ‘and it’s nothing like yours. It’s a bit more like … well, like … this.’

  This was the most entrancing, fluid, charming tune they had ever heard, played on a stringed instrument that sounded like it had been made from enchanted wood and the hair of angels.

  As they looked around to see where the music was coming from, the warmest voice in the world whispered, ‘You won’t have to wait for long, Your Majesty. Welcome, dear children, to the utterly mesmerising Holy Moly Holiday.’

  Anna, Holly and Pepino gaped. The man who had just spoken was one of the most handsome and lovely people they had ever seen. He had perfectly blond hair like a lemon meringue. He had eyes like violet-flavoured boiled sweets. And he was playing the song of the clouds and the flowers on his wooden mandolin …

  ‘My name is Pip Hamelin,’ said the man, smiling, ‘the organiser of the Holy Moly Holiday. You must be Prince Pepino, and the brave Holly and Anna Burnbright. What an honour. Ready to go? You’re the last to get on board. We’re lifting the anchor in ten minutes, and tomorrow morning we’ll be in Islandia for the first stop of our holiday.’

  Holly, Anna and Pepino nodded. All they wanted was to follow this entrancing man. So they followed him into the huge pink-and-purple-and-glittery cruise ship marked Holy Moly Holiday, smiling like three happy baboons.

  Chapter Two

  On the boat, they were greeted by their new Holy Moly Holiday friends. Well, ‘greeted’ is perhaps not the right word.

  ‘My oh my!’ said a shrill voice. ‘We’ve got commoners among us!’

  ‘Maybe they’re here to wash our clothes!’ said another voice.

  ‘Or clip our nails!’ said a third.

  ‘Or brush our teeth!’ said a fourth.

  ‘Maybe they’re here to polish our crowns!’ said the first shrill voice again. ‘Oh! But of course, they’re Pepino’s
new friends … I’ve seen them in the papers. Pitiful Pepino can’t find royal friends, so he’s had to bend down and pick up some non-royals from the mud.’

  Anna and Holly stared in astonishment: the other thirty children who were taking part in the Holy Moly Holiday were all princes and princesses, dukelings and duchesses, tsarinas and emperorlets.

  ‘Bl-Bl-Blastula,’ Pepino stammered to the young royal lady standing in front of them all. ‘What a lovely s-surprise …’

  ‘Baroness Blastula,’ said the strident girl to Holly and Anna. ‘You can call me Your Highness. I’m Pepino’s cousin a few times removed. We all hate him because he’s a loser. We is me here and them over there: Emperorlet Ursul of Quebecque and Tsarina Nadya of Marok and Mini-Emir Muskar of Syldavia and Princess Petunia of Phrygistan and Count Quetzal of Azteca and his cousin the Empressette Zorrina of Chilentina and behind there is Duchess Flora of Florenz –’

  Blastula continued to introduce everyone. Holly, Anna and Pepino looked like this:

  ‘– and Archidukelet Ichabod of Atlantis,’ Blastula finished – and she took a big breath to replace all the air she’d used introducing everyone. ‘Anyway, I hear you had to work to buy tickets for this holiday. How bizarre! I just asked Mum and Dad, and they yawned and signed me a cheque.’

  All the royal children smirked. Anna muttered, ‘Pepino, do you want me to give her a kung-fu kick in the crown, or will you do it yourself ?’

  But before they could get to a decision, the lovely music started again …

  ‘There shall be no kung-fu kicks on this trip,’ said Pip Hamelin’s melodious voice. ‘Look around you, children: the boat is full of noises … strange sounds and sweet melodies that make you feel good and at peace with the world. Enjoy!’

  Suddenly pacified by the mandolin, the children drifted apart and explored the boat in a trancelike state …

  And what they discovered was a place of endless marvels – and they spent the next twelve hours playing.

  SPLOSH! They swam in the outdoor swimming pool for two hours. The swimming pool was at the front of the cruise ship and it had ten diving boards, six twirling slides and three wave machines.

  SLURP! They spent one and a half hours dipping strawberries, gooseberries, plums, marshmallows, fudge cubes, nougat sticks and dozens of different sweets in the giant chocolate fountain. At the end, they just drank directly from it because it was easier.

  RRROOOOOWL! The next two and a half hours were spent roller-derbying in the huge rink on the third deck. Every ten minutes, an avalanche of confetti fell on to them. Every hour, it was a cloud of foam. All Rollerblades were fitted with little engines and spat fire from the back.

  MIAOW! To wind down, they went to the kitten parlour for two hours. They had fizzy drinks and ate ice cream right off the scoop, and rested in plush armchairs, stroking and playing with tiny kittens, who purred as loudly as hairdryers and were softer than cotton wool.

  SWING! They stayed for an hour on the outdoor swings at the very top of the boat. It was night-time now, and the swings, which were entirely self-pushing, went so high that Holly worried they might hit a star.

  ROAAAR! For the next three hours, they got lost in the dark jungle on the lowest deck of the ship. Shiny fireflies showed them the way to the plumpest tropical fruits, and they played with the funny monkeys, avoiding yellow-eyed leopards …

  Finally, at midnight, exhausted, delighted and enchanted, Holly, Anna and Pepino fell asleep in their huge cabin to the sound of Hamelin’s mandolin, which was playing through all the loudspeakers in the boat.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, after a lie-in until eleven, watching cartoons on the floor-to-ceiling TV screen while having breakfast in bed, Holly, Anna and Pepino went down to the main deck to see if they’d arrived in Islandia.

  They hadn’t.

  ‘We’re still in the middle of the ocean!’ Anna exclaimed. ‘Not a strip of land in sight.’

  ‘Oh, look! A blue whale!’ said Pepino.

  They watched the whales around the boat spitting geysers of water, slamming their fins on the surface and pirouetting in the air like gymnasts.

  Are ‘we the first ones up?’ Anna suddenly wondered.

  ‘The rest of them are even lazier than we are!’

  ‘Holy moly! Don’t worry about being lazy,’ said Hamelin’s delicious voice behind them. ‘This is a holiday. You’re allowed to be lazy.’ ‘Why are we not in Islandia yet?’ Holly asked, turning to him.

  ‘Islandia is very far,’ replied

  Hamelin. ‘But don’t worry – enjoy yourself. Have you had a go at the racing car track on deck seven yet?’

  ‘Racing car track …’ Pepino repeated dreamily.

  ‘Are you sure we’re going in the right direction?’ Anna wondered.

  ‘Straight to the right place. We’re just taking our time,’ smiled Hamelin. ‘Off you go. Play, have fun, enjoy!’

  One by one, the other royal children trickled out of bed and into the different chambers, rooms, corridors and secret passages of the boat. Every time, they found yet more things to do, more things to eat, more things to see and more things to marvel at.

  And so busy were they that they didn’t have the time or the will to fight with one another. Baroness Blastula was almost polite to Pepino when he won against her in the racing car competition. She just drifted away with Ursul and Quetzal, joking about the race and dancing to Hamelin’s music.

  It was very tiring doing all these activities. Whenever it got a bit too much for everyone, Pip Hamelin would gather the Holy Moly Holiday participants in a circle, take out his mandolin and play lovely songs to them:

  Once there was a singer magical:

  He was young and blond and good;

  His singing light and musical

  Softened ev’n the darkest mood;

  On top of all that made him nice

  He had the strange ability

  To play with such agility

  That he entranced ants, frogs and mice,

  Flamingos and platypuses,

  Carpenters, oysters, walruses,

  Corals, mushrooms and cactuses,

  And children, kings and princesses.

  The singer wanted as his spouse

  A damsel of a royal house;

  Such was her dearest wish also,

  Though her royal daddy said no.

  ‘Quite right,’ interrupted Blastula. ‘Too many commoners end up marrying royalty. It happened in Francia last week. Revolting.’

  Hamelin continued:

  One day a zillion ugly Things

  (Like ratty kinds of butterfly)

  Hatched from the ground – no one knows why!

  All that were stung by a Thing’s sting

  Would die coughing and spluttering.

  In the midst of all this dying

  The Kings and Queens and Emperors crying

  Implored our singer so skilled

  To rid the Earth of those that killed.

  ‘O dear friend, lead those Things away!

  Lead them to the edge of the sky

  And push them off and let them fly

  Into the empty Milky Way.’

  ‘I will,’ he said, ‘only if after

  You let me marry my lover.’

  ‘Yes, yes, we will – we’ll let you wed!’

  (‘Disgusting blackmail!’ went Blastula.)

  So he began to sing his tune;

  In just one morn and afternoon

  The Things followed him, and he led

  Them up into the starry skies

  Where they fell up and disappeared

  With flaps of wings and screechy cries

  And never more on Earth were feared.

  ‘Phew! I’m glad the story ended well,’ Pepino sighed.

  ‘How did he lead them into the skies?’ Anna asked. ‘Did he go up a ladder or something? How come they couldn’t come back?’

  ‘Holy moly! So many questions.’ Hamelin smiled. ‘J
ust relax and enjoy the story.’

  And so the day passed by.

  Well … perhaps a bit more than a day.

  ‘We still haven’t arrived in Islandia,’ noted Anna idly, as they finished licking the bowl after making an army of little chocolate figurines.

  The music had stopped a few minutes before, and their heads felt a bit clearer, like they always did when the boat was silent.

  ‘We’re getting close,’ suggested Holly. ‘Look at the icebergs! The sea’s looking like Pepino’s glass of lemonade yesterday with all that ice.’

  ‘That was excellent lemonade,’ said Pepino.

  ‘We should have arrived by now! What time is it?’ asked Anna.

  ‘The clock says seven,’ said Holly, ‘and night’s falling outside, so it’s probably seven at night.’

  ‘It’s night again?’ asked Pepino. ‘Hasn’t it been night once or twice before?’

  They tried to remember how many times it had been dark since they’d got on to the boat.

  ‘It was dark when we played giant chess on the outer deck,’ said Anna, ‘and then light again as we held those rings for the dolphins to jump through.’

  ‘And then dark again when we trampolined outside,’ noted Holly. ‘And then dark again when we watched that musical projected on the clouds yesterday.’

  ‘But that wasn’t yesterday,’ said Pepino. ‘There was a day after that, and then we skated at night on the ice rink and I almost managed not to fall for two whole minutes.’

  They listed all of this on paper, and found more to list, and suddenly it dawned on Anna that …