Free Adam and the Arkonauts by Dominic Barker Page A

irritated.
    â€˜My tip,’ said the concierge.
    â€˜Why do we have to give you a tip?’ asked Adam. ‘You haven’t carried anything.’
    â€˜I am carrying the burden of my disappointment that there is nothing to carry,’ said the concierge firmly. ‘It is a very heavy burden and I expect a large tip.’
    With a sigh, the Doctor reached into his pocket and handed over a peso.
    â€˜Have a nice day,’ said the concierge, holding the door open for them.
    The lobby of the Hotel Dormir was air-conditioned and cool after the boiling heat of the street. There were luxurious leather chairs and tall green plants in pots. A well-dressed white-bearded old man was taking a cup of coffee and reading a newspaper in one corner. It was a haven of tranquility after the heat of the square and the sweltering crowd. A tall young woman with long dark hair was sitting behind the reception desk. She stood up when she saw them come in.
    â€˜Welcome to the Hotel Dormir,’ she said. ‘The only four-and-a-half star hotel in Buenos Sueños.’
    â€˜Four-and-a-half stars?’ said Adam.
    â€˜We lost half a star for bad punctuation and spelling,’ explained the receptionist ruefully. ‘The inspectors are ruthless.’
    Sniffage sat down at Adam’s feet. The hotel seemed disappointingly clean and lacking in dead things.
    â€˜My name is Arantcha,’ said the receptionist. ‘I am here to help you. Would you like a room?’
    â€˜No, thank you,’ said the Doctor, fishing into his pocket and pulling out the picture of his wife. ‘Would you mind looking at this photograph and telling me if you’ve seen this lady before?’
    â€˜Of course,’ said Arantcha. ‘Please pass it to me.’
    The receptionist glanced at the photo.
    â€˜She would be a little older now,’ said the Doctor, an edge of pain in his voice as he thought of all the years they had been apart – years that, even if he found her, they could never replace.
    â€˜I’m afraid I don’t recognise her,’ said Arantcha, quickly handing back the photo.
    â€˜You didn’t look very hard,’ said Adam.
    â€˜Adam!’
    â€˜She didn’t. I watched her. It was like she’d decided she hadn’t seen Mum before she even looked at the photo.’
    â€˜This is your mother?’ asked Arantcha sharply.
    â€˜Would it be possible to look at the hotel register?’ said the Doctor quickly, casting Adam an angry look. Adam couldn’t believe his own stupidity. He told himself for the millionth time to think before he opened his mouth.
    â€˜I’m afraid the register is confidential,’ said Arantcha. ‘And now, if there is nothing further I can assist you gentlemen with, then I would be grateful if you would allow me to attend to the interests of our paying guests.’
    She turned away from them dismissively, but Adam could see that his father was reluctant to go. He remained rooted in front of the reception desk.
    â€˜I must tell you that permitting me a look at your hotel register may be a matter of the utmost importance,’ Doctor Forest urged her.
    The receptionist looked up. This time her eyes were hard.
    â€˜Would you like me to call the concierge to escort you out into the street?’ she said coldly.
    â€˜That will not be necessary,’ said the Doctor, a hint of defeat in his tone. ‘Come on, Adam.’
    They turned to go.
    Adam was thinking. There had to be a way. The Doctor would always use the most straightforward, the most logical and scientific method when he wanted something. But perhaps there was a different way to solve the problem.
    Sniffage was the only one of them who was eager to be out of the hotel, with its disappointing aroma of cleanliness. It gave Adam an idea. He bent down and pulled the dog back.
    â€˜Yeah! No! Whatcha doing?’ barked Sniffage.
    Arantcha looked up from her desk. Adam