Lifting the Lid(6)

The receptionist had paused in the middle of entering Trevor’s details onto her computer and given him a sickly and unconvincing smile. ‘I’m sorry, sir, it’s company policy not to allow pets within the hotel premises.’

‘No, no, of course not,’ Trevor had flustered. ‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Unless of course it’s a guide dog,’ the receptionist had added in a tone of voice that made it sound like an accusation.

‘No, no, of course not,’ Trevor had repeated and immediately wondered why he seemed to be apologising for not being blind. ‘Just wanted to check. I’m er… I’m allergic, you see.’

The receptionist had smiled her unconvincing smile again and then returned her attention to the computer screen.

In the end, he’d gone up to his room and waited a few minutes before going out into the street to rescue the howling Milly. He could see the receptionist from where he stood, and as soon as she’d left the desk, he’d whisked Milly into the foyer and up the stairs to his room.

He put out his hand to where she lay next to him on the bed and stroked her head. ‘Doesn’t seem quite so bloody expensive now there’s the two of us, I suppose.’

Trevor dozed for a while, and when he woke, realised that he was starving hungry. He was then faced with a dilemma. The restaurant would be closed by now, and if he went out to get something to eat, he would either have to smuggle Milly out of the hotel and back in again or leave her in the room. The first option was almost too tiresome to contemplate and, as for the second, he knew she would howl the place down the moment he’d gone. He tried to convince himself he really wasn’t that hungry after all, but the sounds which came from his stomach reminded him otherwise.

‘Bollocks,’ he said as he manoeuvred himself upright on the bed. He looked down at Milly, who was snoring contentedly beside him. ‘Listen, I’ll do you a deal. If you stay here quietly, I’ll bring you back a whole McDonald’s McDoggyburger all to yourself.’

Milly shifted slightly in her sleep.

‘And chips?’ Trevor threw in as an extra incentive.

Milly shifted again and groaned.

‘Okay, okay, large chips.’

Trevor eased himself from the bed and edged towards the door. All the while, he watched to see if Milly would wake. Just as his hand touched the door handle, Milly opened one eye and pointed it in his direction.

‘But I’m bloody starving,’ Trevor said. ‘It’s not as if there wouldn’t be anything in it for you.’

MiIly opened her other eye and then rolled onto her back, all four of her legs crooked playfully into the air.

‘Oh for God’s sake, Milly. Why can’t you be a proper, well-behaved dog for once like other people have?’

Milly wriggled herself comfortable.

‘Right, that’s it,’ said Trevor as he strode back towards the bed. He fixed her with a stare and raised a finger. ‘I’m going to be out for ten minutes – twenty at most – and if you make a sound while I’m gone, I’ll… I’ll… Well, just don’t even think about it.’

He backed up to the door, willing her to silence with his eyes. Out in the corridor, he’d gone no more than ten paces when he heard the sound of a wailing banshee. He burst back into the room to find Milly sitting squarely on the bed, her nose pointed vertically towards the ceiling, baying at an imaginary moon.

‘Milly!’

She stopped abruptly mid howl and turned to face him, lowering her head as she did so, as if to convey her awareness that she had done a bad thing and that she was truly sorry, but to be perfectly frank, the situation he had placed her in had left her with very little alternative.

‘And don’t give me that butter wouldn’t melt crap. You’re a pain in the arse and you know it. – And get off the bloody bed, you… you… bitch.’

Milly slithered down onto the floor and under the bed. Trevor flung himself onto the mattress, and there was a yelp from beneath him.

‘Serves you right,’ he said. ‘Because of you, I’m probably going to pass out through lack of food. I may even die. What about that then, eh? Who’d look after you then, eh? I mean, who’d be stupid enough to take on a… ‘

While he continued to rant, Milly emerged from under the bed and went in search of a safer, if not quieter, resting place. Making her way towards a small but comfortable-looking armchair beside the window, she suddenly stopped and began sniffing the air. After a few moments, she seemed to have located the source of olfactory interest and placed her front paws on the top of a low, oak-effect table in the corner of the room. Her sniffing intensified as she examined the contents of a round plastic tray – an electric jug kettle; a cup, saucer and teaspoon; a small wicker basket containing teabags, sachets of coffee and sugar, and individual pots of UHT milk; and— Just then, in her enthusiasm to investigate her discovery more closely, Milly’s nose brushed against the cup and saucer.