‘I’ll take black and white,’ Leo said. ‘Zach – black as well? And red?’ Zach nodded as Leo turned to me. ‘Any ideas for blue and yellow?’
‘Yellow, yes…’
‘I’ve got a blue feather boa that will work for one leg,’ Brooke said, handing me her room key. ‘Top right in my wardrobe.’
‘Barb has one too,’ I said, thinking back to her treasure-filled wardrobe. ‘Is it cheating to borrow from her?’
‘No such thing,’ Zach said. ‘All’s fair in—’
‘Alright, alright,’ Leo said. ‘Let’s go. Back here in twenty minutes, yeah?’
Brooke gestured to the waiter for another drink and the three of us raced off in different directions.
I ran to my room and dragged my work bag out from under the bed, along with a pair of Converse trainers Heidi must have forgotten to pack. I had a lump of Post-its for brainstorming, which would make a brilliant beak, and I whipped the mustardy laces from the trainers in case we could use them too. Then on to Barbie Queue’s dressing room. Her ‘Enter at your own risk’ sign hit different going in alone. It was her private space after all, and it was a bit cheeky to ‘borrow’ without permission. But it was a feathery emergency. She’d understand. I knocked a couple of times even though I knew she was at the cockerel contest, then slipped in and grabbed two feather boas in turquoise and navy, before making my way to Brooke’s suite.
How the other half live. Even her key was a posh electronic bracelet and made a satisfying tinkle as I bleeped my way in. Her room was cool and calm, with a gorgeous flowery fragrance and the air conditioning on full blast even though no one was home. Brooke had one of the corner suites, with dual aspect and a panoramic view and her bathroom alone was bigger than mine and Heidi’s room. She had a four-man Jacuzzi blowing steam into the air, waiting for her to get back.I almost forgot we were on a timer as I stared around the room gobsmacked, the four-poster bed, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the beautiful furniture, the chaise longue. I mean, I’d seen photos of the suites before – of course I had – but they’d taken it up a notch onEsmeralda. This was like a mini hotel-for-one on the sea. I opened her wardrobe and took in the rail of beautiful dresses, black with feathers, gold pinstripe, icy blue, chocolate strapless… and all the shoes! Eight different pairs on show, each one unique and immaculate – my shoes looked like they’d been chewed by dogs in comparison. It was all too beautiful and neat to go ferreting around. I stood on the chair from her dressing table to get a closer look and spotted a bundle of feathery blue at the back. I made a grab for it, pulling the boa out like a beautiful soft snake. The feathers were so fluffy, they felt real, not like the gaudy sparkly numbers from Barb’s box of tricks.
The boys had already started dressing Brooke by the time I got back and she was stood in a long black shirt and a New York Yankees baseball cap. Zach was sellotaping cotton wool to her ‘wings’ and Leo was fashioning a red crest out of four packs of Rennies.
‘She’s back!’ Zach called.
‘She sure is and she brings gifts,’ I said. ‘I’ve got three feather boas and Post-its or laces for the beak. Wow, people are really going for it!’ I looked around the room at the different teams and their dressing-up efforts. One cockerel was covered in a black blanket, another was wrapped in bin liners, with beaks made out of pegs, pencils and rubber ducks, and legs wrapped up in cling film. Dahlia was blasting out a chicken-themed playlist, and we all did the actions to ‘The Birdie Song’ as we worked.
‘This is lookin’ fine y’all,’ Brooke said, as we made her up. I wound the feather boas around her legs and stuck the Post-its on her nose. The three of us kept adding to our creation, sticking bits on to create a very avant-garde version of the famous Portuguese cockerel.
‘I’d say we’ve given more of an overall flavour than a replica image,’ Leo said, as the three of us stood back to admire our handiwork.
Zach took a couple of photos and Brooke squealed with laughter when she saw the state of herself.
‘I think she likes it,’ I said.
‘Seems that way,’ Zach agreed.
‘Like it? I love it! This is going to be my new look. Animal vibes.’
‘And antacids on tap,’ Leo said. ‘The ultimate business outfit.’
‘Time is UP, ladies and gentlemen,’ Dahlia shouted, sounding the Klaxon again. ‘Dressers, please finish whatever it is you are doing and then can all cockerels make their way to the front here, and join me up on stage.’
Brooke shuffled forward and Leo and I fussed around her, smoothing down stray feathers and brushing on a final layer of bronzer.
‘Go forth and represent!’ Zach said and Brooke nodded.
‘I’ll try my best,’ she said, waddling off.
‘Winner, winner,’ I shouted.
‘Chicken dinner!’ we all chorused, repeating the chant as she followed the other cockerels onto the stage. Then we collapsed in our chairs to have a well-deserved rest.
‘Martinis for the workers?’ A waiter came over with a tray-full as Dahlia got back on the microphone.
‘We have twenty wonderful cocks to choose from,’ she shouted.
‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ Barb called from the back of the stage.
‘Well done, all of you. You’ve done a fantastic job. And as we all know, it’s not the winning but the taking part that counts.’
‘Boooooo!’ Barbie Queue appeared behind Dahlia and the cocks. ‘What are you on about, you? We’re innit to winnit – am I right?’
