Читать книгу The Animal House - M.D. Milton-Smith - Страница 5

The next day, there was a buzz of anticipation in the Animal House. Queen Beatrix was arriving from the Mother Country! Preparations were underway to ensure that the place was to Her Majesty's liking. Iguanas busily cleaned the high windows, but they blended so perfectly that only their rags were visible. A mob of meerkats frenetically ran in and out of the parliamentary kitchen, taking orders from an angry bear in a head chef's uniform.

On the strike of 5 o'clock a beaver dressed in a red porter's suit excitedly cried, "She's here everybody — she's here!" As all of the animals jostled on the Parliament's steps to sneak a peek of the Queen, as her horse-drawn carriage made its way down the promenade. Their first glimpse was of a white-gloved paw, accepting the hand of a Lady-in-Waiting. But the rest of the "vision" was somewhat compromised, as the bulldog tottered awkwardly in her impractical heels.

After an appropriate amount of pomp and circumstance — and many bows and curtsies — the Queen politely excused herself, retiring to her quarters to prepare for the supper to be held in her honour.

It was a lavish affair held in the parliament's finest space, aptly named Queen's Hall. Mr Hughes took great delight in presiding as the host. He swanned around the grand marble hall, with his nose held high and his chest puffed out in self-importance. Lucy heard Lady mutter a small "humph!" of contempt, as they observed Mr Hughes ingratiating himself with the Queen. "Oh, Your Majesty! How slender and fetching you look in that purple gown!" The overweight bulldog enjoyed the attention, while her meek dachshund husband slinked behind a cocktail table.

The plates kept coming out from the kitchen, and it was the most delicious food that Lucy had ever eaten. Each course was served on a silver platter by attentive meerkats, with white silk napkins draped on their arms. "A pickled egg, kind Sir? A devil on horseback, Madam? How about a sumptuous ‘pig in a blanket'…?”

Lucy filled her plate with golden croquettes, salmon roulades, and vol au vents stuffed with prawns and avocado. They certainly did not serve this fancy food at her school tuck shop. Lucy's lunch usually consisted of a peanut butter sandwich, which she would find squashed down the bottom of her school bag. If her mother packed any treats, they would be swiftly snatched by Bronny and Kevin.

After all of the canapés had been devoured, a grey elephant rolled his piano onto the stage (with some effort, mind you). The pianist was accompanied by a troupe of felines playing saxophones. The jazz band brought all of the animals onto the dance floor, and a celebratory mood was in the air, as creatures from all nations jived and bopped to the lively beats.

Sri Mehta invited Lady Speaker to dance, although she was somewhat coy. Lucy observed the peacock's vigorous feather shaking and rather impressive Bollywood moves.

The girl had never seen animals in ball gowns or tuxedos — what a strange sight! At first, she felt like a spectator looking in at this world from outside, but after a while, she allowed herself to become part of it, and accept it for what it was.

All of a sudden, Mr Hughes tapped a spoon against a champagne flute. The jazz band came to an immediate halt. "Her Majesty! Foreign Dignitaries! Ladies and Gentlemen! May I have your attention? It is with great honour that we welcome you to this event, attended by Her Majesty Queen Beatrix of the United Kingdom." All eyes turned to the Queen, who offered a slight nod.

"I am greatly humbled," Mr Hughes continued, "that Queen Beatrix is here to inaugurate myself as Prime Minister and to attend a series of high-level United Creatures' events."

Almost on cue, a round of applause erupted as beasts from all nations cheered in approval. The event marked the start of a series of international political meetings, with ambassadors from all around the world in attendance. An exquisite peacock from India nodded with a Canadian moose. A Paraguayan armadillo with shiny armour conversed with a striped zebra from Zimbabwe.

The spoodle continued: "If I may now call on Her Majesty to provide her keynote address."

With this grand introduction, the Queen's ladies-in-waiting — two bantam hens — fussed and clucked. They lifted Beatrix's velvet cape, as she clumsily proceeded to the podium. All eyes were upon her, watching in anticipation. The Queen quietly surveyed the room and enjoyed a moment of silence, before dramatically clearing her throat.

"It is with great pleasure that I provide this evening's address. How delightful to see feathers and furs from all around the world." The Queen gestured to a splendid Sri Lankan tiger and then waved towards an iridescent Japanese firefly, which fluttered with joy.

"As you are aware, this is a time of great global change. While it is exciting, it also poses some challenges. Some would say they we are morally obliged to meet them, on behalf of our constituents." The Queen paused for what seemed like a considerable amount of time.

"We have gathered for a series of high-level political meetings to address our lack of faith in the human decision makers." She waved vaguely in the direction of the new parliament on the hill.

A chant started to build and resonate in the great hall. "We have lost faith! We have lost FAITH!"

"They are mistreating our animals and ravaging our environment." The audience fervently raised their fists. "In yesterday's news, a boat load of persecuted camels were intercepted by human ‘authorities' and sent back home, no doubt to their peril." The animals roared in protest. "Need I mention the state of our rivers? The humans have polluted them all! What shall we drink?"

An angry cry erupted, "The humans have polluted them! What shall we drink?"

The Queen continued. "But they have never listened to animals — they only listen to their kind! Therefore, we need to find a human to champion our cause. A courageous voice..." She paused and Lucy felt dozens of beady eyes staring at her. Her gaze met Lady Speaker's, who looked away and casually preened herself. Lucy started shuffling her feet, which she tended to do in awkward moments such as this.

The Queen's speech concluded with three hearty cheers. The night continued with great festivity, with many more toasts made. Lucy saw one of the jazz cats passed out in the corner, a bottle of swindled cognac by his side.

The grand clock in Queen's Hall struck midnight, and the remaining guests said farewell. As they made their way back to the burrow, Lucy tried to keep pace with Lady Speaker in the labyrinth of tunnels. Finally, they arrived at the familiar plaque that read: "Speaker's Residence."

"Come now — you must be tired," said the rabbit, as she ushered the girl inside. "What say we have a night cap?" Without waiting for Lucy's reply, Lady Speaker scurried off to the kitchen. Lucy could hear clanging pans and the banging of cupboard doors. "Oh, bother me!" The rabbit cried out intermittently.

"Will scolded milk be dandy?" Lady Speaker called out.

"Ah yes — certainly! Just the way I like it," Lucy graciously replied.

Lady Speaker returned to the lounge with an ornate silver tray and two floral teacups, brimming with malted milk. On each saucer was a shortbread biscuit, decorated with an iced carrot.

And so, the two sat there drinking their milk, exchanging very few words. Both were weary from what had been a most eventful day.

After the rabbit had nibbled up the last of her biscuit crumbs, she set about preparing a velvet chaise lounge as a bed for Lucy. She draped it with a crocheted blanket and placed a plump pillow at its head.

"Until tomorrow," said Lady Speaker, as she dimmed the lanterns and bid Lucy good night.