Pamela stared at the dentist.

  “Are you serious?”

  “I’m serious, Mrs York. There’s nothing wrong with your teeth. That I can see, anyway.” Mr Chan tapped the x?ray viewer. “The x?rays look fine. I’m not saying you didn’t feel discomfort, I’m just saying the x?rays show your teeth are fine. When I tap on your teeth, you say they’re fine. They’re not in need of a clean either. I’ll give you a brochure to take home on some of the reasons teeth can hurt that aren’t dental. Infection, colds and flu—”

  “Alright,” Pamela cut in. “I’ll take the brochure. I’ve got to get home. Thanks for seeing me on short notice.”

  “No problem.” Dr Chan smiled. “By the way, all the staff here wanted to pass on their hellos to Jezebel.”

  Pamela smiled politely and left.

  When she arrived home she found Brian, James, and a bunch of neighbours finishing the considerable clean?up job. She stood watching as the last of the rubbish bags were tossed into Brian’s caged trailer.

  “Right,” Brian said, smiling. “That’s it! Thanks everyone. Much appreciated.”

  The neighbours drifted off, leaving Brian, James, and Pamela to head back inside and lock the door.

  “Well, that’s not the early?morning cup of tea in bed with the newspaper I was looking forward to, was it now?” Brian scratched his head.

  “It’s been quite fun, I thought,” James said, checking his watch.

  “I’m not as happy as you about all this, James” Brian muttered, pouring tea.

  “I didn’t even know she spoke fluent Japanese,” James said, grabbing a water bottle.

  “Me too, to both of your statements,” Pamela agreed. “This morning was like some crazy dream.”

  Pamela’s phone rang.

  “Hello? How did you get this number? No, we’re not giving interviews.” She hung up.

  “Don’t worry too much,” James said with a smile. “You’ll be able to see her on the television tomorrow. The United Nations. You just need to adjust to the fact that Jezebel is going to be a famous girl. Nothing’s going to change that. For a while at least.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, James. It’s a good point. It’s just that it all happened without any family discussion or input,” Brian said, leaning back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his neck.

  “That’s exactly right, darling,” Pamela agreed.

  “Yep. No going back now. It’s an unexpected home goal,” James chuckled.

  “What about her attitude, James?” Pamela continued. “You saw what she was like this morning. The way she seemed in total control. Not like our adorable little girl at all. Like… a mature woman.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, that’s right. I know what you mean Mum. I do. It’s a bit to adjust to,” James said, sipping his other sports drink.

  “Alright then,” Brian said with a tired smile. “We need to move to stage two. It’s happened. We’re on the ride now. Once she’s home we can all sit down together and have a family meeting and wrap our… tired heads around this mess.”

  “Okay,” Pamela said, tapping Brian’s hand sweetly. “It’ll be fine. Let’s not worry any more about it. You won’t be able to do a single delivery without someone pulling you up to talk about our famous daughter Jezebel.” She laughed. “All of Bearing Friendly Dentist’s staff asked me to pass on their regards to Jezebel.”

  “Stop it,” Brian said, starting to laugh.

  The sleek red sports car stopped suddenly.

  “Oh man…” Karen grinned. “Don’t those UN flags look pretty, Elvin?”

  “Like a field of irises,” Elvin said. “I’m afraid this is where we say goodbye again, little sister.”

  “I’ll see you both again though, right?” Jezebel asked.

  “Oh sure,” Karen nodded brightly.

  “Where’s Astar? I can’t do this without her,” Jezebel said, looking around.

  “She’ll be here,” Elvin said, removing his sunglasses so she could see his sincere blue eyes.

  Astar reappeared beside Jezebel in the back seat.

  “Hello Jezebel,” she said with a giggle. “It’s show time. Did you miss me?”

  “Yes, of course. I’m glad you’re here,” Jezebel said. “I was starting to get nervous again. Look at all the security. They look angry!”

  Security personnel moved closer to the car, drawing their guns and taking aim at the occupants of the mystery vehicle.

  “Exit the vehicle. Now!” an officer shouted. “You have made an unofficial arrival!”

  Elvin, Karen, Aunt Cathy, and Jezebel—holding Tibbar—climbed out with their hands in the air and huddled together.

  “God damn it!” Wilford, the American FBI adviser, cursed. He stood beside Mr Mori, the head of Japanese security, at the top of the stairs a hundred feet away.

  “Mr Mori, that’s… that’s Jezebel York! Damn,” Wilford stuttered.

  Mr Mori barked instructions. Guns were lowered. Handshakes were offered. Smiles replaced bared teeth as government reporters and hosts rushed forward to greet Jezebel.

  Jezebel lowered her raised arm slightly and waved. The fact that several photos of her surrender pose would make the evening papers around the world was little comfort to world leaders hoping for a unifying image.

  Interest in Jezebel had skyrocketed in Japan and was rising globally. A small crowd of thirty Japanese onlookers behind a police barricade, previously docile, now rushed forward with pens drawn, eager for her signature. Mori shouted commands for a friendly approach.

  “Onegaishimasu, sign! Sign!” a boy beamed, holding out his autograph book.

  “Konichiwa,” Jezebel bowed. “Konichiwa!”

  She began signing pens thrust toward her, though she noticed she kept almost writing Astar instead of Jezebel.

  Several girls had cut their hair like hers and wore dresses in similar colours.

  “Welcome, Jezebel!” four officials said, forming a protective shield around her.

  Men in suits presented flowers and matcha tea sets, bowing deeply. Japanese robots stood at a safe distance as honoured guests.

  “Come. This way,” a Geisha instructed.

  Jezebel and Aunt Cathy followed, pausing to look back at Elvin and Karen.

  “Thank you,” Jezebel called, waving.

  Elvin pointed at her proudly as he and Karen chatted with officials.

  Jezebel was enjoying the sensation of Astar communicating through her. It felt like being pushed around in a pram with a bottle in one holder and a candy cane in the other.

  “We have rooms for dignitaries only,” an official apologised to Karen and Elvin.

  Karen smiled, bowing and asking questions about his hometown. Her charm, excellent Japanese, and surprising knowledge of his local area earned them an exception. They were given a room on the tenth floor that had just become vacant. The official instructed his assistant to escort them in the sleek red car. Elvin, for once, drove close to the speed limit.

  “Hello,” FBI agent Wilford said as Jezebel passed him at the top of the steps, still signing autographs.

  “I hope she doesn’t have a bomb in that bunny,” Wilford whispered to Mori.

  “If she does,” Mori smiled, “we’re both out of a job.”

  Jezebel and Aunt Cathy closed the door of room 663 and looked at each other. Astar stepped back from Jezebel as she sat on a bamboo chair.

  “We will return later,” Astar said, taking Tibbar.

  “We must return to Fariddion. An update to the council is required. Bye, Jezebel,” Tibbar added.

  They vanished.

  “Well… if they don’t come back, we’re in big trouble,” Jezebel said. “How would we get out of here?”

  “Anyway, we’re in,” Cathy said cautiously. “When is your speech again?”

  “Ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Who is it?” Cathy called, seeing Jezebel’s reluctance.

  “Room service!”

  “You get it, Cathy,” Jezebel begged. “In case they want me to start discussing bonsai trees again.”

  Cathy opened the door and accepted tea and sushi from a handsome, impeccably dressed attendant. He arranged the tray with perfect precision, then smiled broadly at Jezebel and spoke a long sentence she didn’t understand. She would almost have preferred another stint on Mount Everest to escape the silence.

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  “Konichiwa,” Jezebel bowed. “Konichiwa, konichiwa”

  The man shrugged, laughed, repeated “konichiwa”, and left.

  Cathy stared at her.

  “That’s all I know,” Jezebel complained.

  “Oh my… we better not open the door again until Astar returns. Anyway—fresh sushi. Come on.”

  They sat and enjoyed their late?afternoon meal.

  +

  A loud knock came to the door.

  “What’s the time?” Jezebel asked, turning the movie down and looking at Cathy with apprehension.

  “Seven,” Cathy whispered.

  The door rattled again with more persistent knocking.

  “Oh no,” Cathy grimaced.

  “I’ll go in the bathroom. Tell them I’m taking a shower,” Jezebel giggled. She covered her face to stifle her laughter as she raced into the bathroom and locked the door.

  The door rattled even louder as Cathy took a deep breath, unlocked it, and pulled it open.

  Two men in dark glasses and suits stood there.

  “Hello,” Mr Mori said with a smile. “I have brought a guest since you refused to answer your phone.” He stepped aside to reveal the British Prime Minister.

  “You look like… don’t tell me… Cathy Carrington. Jezebel’s aunt. Correct?” the Prime Minister said warmly.

  Cathy was speechless. He looked taller than she expected.

  “I’m so terribly sorry to intrude." He continued. "May I come in?” he asked, already stepping inside with Mr Mori, who quietly placed the room phone back on its receiver.

  “Jezebel’s here, I hope?” he asked, looking about.

  “Ah, yes, Prime Minister,” Cathy managed.

  “Good. For now, just call me Richard,” he said.

  “Okay… Richard,” Cathy breathed, watching him take a seat.

  “She’s just taking a shower,” Cathy explained apologetically. “She only just got in.”

  Instead of leaving, the Prime Minister made himself more comfortable. Several attendants hurried in, placing tea and juice on the table and rearranging flowers and artwork throughout the room. The Prime Minister cleared his throat.

  “Thought I’d give your room a bit more colour… I’m afraid I’ll have to make an exception this time, Cathy. I must meet this wonderfully talented young lady tonight. Time, I have little of to myself you see.”

  “Right,” Cathy nodded, feeling increasingly nervous.

  “So, is everything satisfactory for you both?” he asked with a smile.

  “Oh…” Cathy blinked. “Yes. Yes, it’s…” She shook her head, overwhelmed. “Fine. Really.”

  “Good,” the Prime Minister chirped. “Excuse me,” he added, answering his phone.

  Cathy watched him discuss matters she was certain she wasn’t meant to hear. Ten minutes passed. He finished his third call.

  “Cathy, could you be so kind as to let Jezebel know I am waiting for her?”

  “Oh—right.” Cathy knocked. “Jezebel?”

  The shower turned off. The door opened a fraction.

  “Have they gone?” Jezebel whispered. She peeked past Cathy and saw the Prime Minister sitting there watching her.

  “Hello, Jezebel. I just need five minutes of your time.”

  Jezebel shut the door again without a word.

  “Just one minute,” Cathy said brightly, pretending everything was fine. “She’s just a bit… shy sometimes.”

  The Prime Minister raised his eyebrows. Jezebel had not been described as shy in any briefing.

  Cathy tapped until Jezebel unlocked the door, and she quickly slipped inside.

  “I can’t,” Jezebel moaned. She placed her hands over her face.

  “You have to,” Cathy pleaded. “He’s been waiting nearly twenty-five minutes! He's not going away!”

  “Twenty-five minutes?” Jezebel said loudly.

  “Shush…” Cathy hissed, waving her hands. “You don’t have to speak Japanese.”

  “I can’t speak Japanese,” Jezebel snapped.

  “That's right. Shit. Whoops, sorry... Just… just be polite,” Cathy begged, pulling a stressed face.

  “I can’t!” Jezebel pleaded. I can't..."

  Cathy grabbed her wrist and pulled her out to face the Prime Minister.

  “Ah… well, we meet at last, Ms. York,” the Prime Minister said, standing and briskly shaking her hand. “Glad you could make it. Though we still haven’t worked out how your friends Elvin and Karen made it to the main entrance to drop you off without us seeing you. Quite bizarre really. Some kind of camera glitch I expect. Never mind. Anyway… hajimemashite.” He bowed.

  Jezebel bowed, then retreated straight back into the bathroom.

  A look of annoyance flickered across the Prime Minister’s face.

  “Miss Carrington, this will never do." The PM began strutting back and forth with his hands firmly behind his back. "I have a dozen experts breathing down my neck," fumed the PM. "They insist she's a fraud. A plant. A... look. I'm afraid if she can't come out and show me she really is a capable young woman, then, I must insist you inform the young lady that she needs—”

  The bathroom door opened again.

  This time Jezebel stepped out carrying Tibbar. As the Prime Minister bowed again with restraint, Cathy let out a sigh of relief. Astar and Tibbar were back.

  “I’m terribly sorry, Prime Minister. I’ve had an upset tummy,” Jezebel said, now completely composed. "Most embarrassing."

  “Theres no need to apologise, Jezebel. Hopefully the food here isn't the problem... forgive me for turning up unannounced.”

  “Please, take a seat again,” Jezebel said. In fluent Japanese she asked for more tea and asked whether the Prime Minister had tried a Kawasaki delicacy, Lamian noodles.

  “Have you not tried the tobiko, Prime Minister?” she asked politely, with a hint of judgement.

  “Ah, no, no, I don’t believe so. Is that octopus?” he asked.

  “No. Flying fish roe. But they do add squid colouring. It slightly changes the taste, Richard.”

  “Really?” he beamed. “Well, I… I… I will definitely try some while I’m here.” He grinned. “Now, if I may. I’m running very late now. Tomorrow’s speech. You… can I see it?”

  “I don’t write things down, Prime Minister,” Jezebel said confidently. She laughed, finding it all suddenly easy.

  “Why—what’s so funny, Ms. York?” Richard asked.

  “Your security staff are looking very impatient,” Jezebel said.

  “Impatient, hey?” He turned to look. “Yes, yes, I suppose they are. We were supposed to meet with the Canadian Prime Minister ten minutes ago, but he’ll just have to wait like a good little boy now, won’t he?” He laughed, and Jezebel joined him.

  “I’d better go,” he said, standing.

  “Of course, Prime Minister. It’s been a real thrill meeting the living Earth’s British Prime Minister.”

  Jezebel looked slightly surprised at Astar’s choice of words.

  “Yes,” Richard chuckled. “I’m still living at the moment… Just one other detail, Ms. York.”

  “Please,” Jezebel said, watching him with the patience and knowledge of eons.

  “I trust there will be no swearing. No arguing. No fights. Just an agreeable speech in harmony… in a manner befitting this special occasion of international unity. Here—take this memo. It explains the requirements of the guest speakers and so and so forth.” He looked firmly into her eyes.

  “I agree, of course. Koketsu ni irazunba koji wo ezu,” Jezebel said.

  “Ah… I… I… I don’t recall that. Please forgive me,” the Prime Minister replied, slightly annoyed. Mr Mori’s expression told him Jezebel meant business.

  “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Jezebel translated.

  “Yes, I know that,” the Prime Minister said, heading for the door.

  “Actually, Prime Minister,” Mr Mori added, “Ms. York said: if you do not enter the tiger’s cage, you will not catch its cub.”

  “Ah… dangerous it can be. Then I’ll see you in the tiger’s cage bright and early tomorrow morning, Jezebel. With your arm down. Unlike the front page of the bloody papers back home tomorrow,” he grumbled.

  The Prime Minister and his security detail left.

  With the door closed and locked, Aunt Cathy collapsed into her chair. Jezebel stood relaxed. When Astar appeared beside her, Jezebel also collapsed onto the couch in fits of laughter.

  “How was that?” Astar asked, seeking approval.

  Jezebel kept laughing, unable to stop.

  “Bloody terrifying,” Aunt Cathy grumbled.