The Royal Wedding Crashers

By Clementine Beauvais and Becka Moor

Anna and Holly Burnbright, together with their friend Prince Pepino, are trying to earn enough money to go on the intergalactic holiday of a lifetime. What they need is a holiday job. So when a tall, elegantly dressed lady called Mademoiselle Malypense tells them she needs help to organise the Francian Royal Wedding, they jump at the chance. She's promised to pay handsomely!

The children are whisked away to begin the preparations, but it's not long before Holly smells a rat. Why does Mademoiselle Malypense insist they complete their tasks in secret? And isn't there something odd about a garlic-flavoured wedding cake? Could there be more to this royal couple's wedding day than meets the eye?

The first in this series, The Royal Babysitters, was shortlisted for the Sainsbury's Children's Book Award. This second adventure is packed with jokes, adventures and illustrations with more exuberance than Judy Moody and Darcy Burdock put together.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Jun 4, 2015
• ISBN: 9781408855454

Clementine Beauvais

Clementine Beauvais is an academic and writer of children’s books. She is currently lecturer at the University of York where she researches childhood and education. Her contribution to Mystery & Mayhem is ‘The Mystery of the Green Room’, described by Katherine Woodfine as ‘a brain-boggling Agatha-Christie style puzzle that even Miss Marple might struggle to solve’.

Book preview

Chapter One

Big fluffy spiders make better pets than puppies: they’ve got more eyes, and they’re better at knitting. Like most puppies, they enjoy nibbling at people just for fun; however, unlike most puppies, their bites are generally venomous. This is why Prince Pepino, who had just received a big fluffy pet tarantula as a present from his godfather the Tsar of Marok, was now covered in greenish poisonous spider bites from the tip of his nose to his big toe.

‘She’s doing it again! Ouch! Stop it, Charlotte A. Rainier, you bloodthirsty terrorist!’

Charlotte A. Rainier – the tarantula – couldn’t help it: Prince Pepino’s right little finger was just too appealing. It was perfectly plump, and smelt of cactus ice cream. She knew it wasn’t nice of her, but she had to – SNAP! – bite it.

‘That’s it! That’s it!’ Pepino shouted. ‘I’m going to – flatten – you – like a – pancake!’

He tried, but Charlotte A. Rainier was faster.

‘Pepino, how dare you!’ scolded Holly Burnbright, picking up Charlotte A. Rainier from the floor to stroke her.

‘She bit me!’ Pepino retorted. ‘She bites me all the time!’

‘She’s just playing,’ said Holly. ‘Look at her sorry little eyes, all eight of them. She didn’t mean any harm.’

And Holly looked lovingly at Charlotte, who had quickly woven herself a little hammock between her fingers, and was now having a nap and snoring.

‘Ahem!’ coughed Nestor. ‘I thought you three were interested in finding a summer job.’

Indeed they were. Prince Pepino of Britland and his friends, Holly and Anna, were in urgent need of one thousand five hundred pounds. Urgent, that is, because Anna would not give up her dream of going on a Holy Moly Holiday she had seen advertised in the newspaper. And Pepino and Holly knew better than to argue with her.

Plus, the Holy Moly Holiday did sound extremely cool.

‘There’s a flower-planting job here,’ said Nestor.

‘Oh, that would be wonderful!’ Holly said. ‘I love penguins!’

‘Sounds awful,’ Anna said. ‘How much do they pay?’

‘You get a penguin-shaped key ring with your name stamped on it,’ replied Nestor.

‘Scam!’ Anna snorted. ‘Give us a real job.’

‘Well,’ said Nestor, ‘The King and Queen of Britland need babysitters for their toddlers; their annual day of leave went so well that they’ve decided to take a whole week of holiday …’

‘That,’ said Anna, ‘is out of the question. We did one day of Royal-Babysitting, Nestor, remember? And it was hell.’

‘Not to mention, again, unpaid,’ said Holly politely. ‘Aren’t there any jobs that would pay us some money?’

Just then, the door of the Doverport Job Agency opened with a ding! The person who walked in was quite a sight.

Even Charlotte A. Rainier couldn’t help staring at her.

‘C-c-can I help?’ stuttered Nestor eventually.

‘Certainly,’ said the young lady in a faint Francian accent. ‘My name is Mademoiselle Malypense, and this is my dog, Kiki-Bisou. I am looking for a young Britlander to help me with a difficult sort of task.’

‘W-w-w-what kind of t-t-t-ask?’ asked Nestor.

‘In two days, Princess Violette of Francia is getting married to King Dentu of Romany. As Princess Violette’s closest friend, I’m in charge of the Royal Wedding. And I need someone to run a few errands for me in Parii, the capital of Francia.’

‘Parii!’ Holly whispered dreamily.

‘W-w-hat k-kind of errands?’ Nestor asked.

‘Oh, nothing too difficult,’ said Mademoiselle Malypense. ‘But it’s confidential. I can’t employ a Francian because Francian people can’t keep secrets. I’m looking for someone who can.’

‘Pick me! Pick me!!’ said Pepino. ‘I’ve never told anyone else’s secrets!’

‘That’s because no one’s ever told you any secrets,’ Anna smirked.

‘That’s not true! Holly told me how you still can’t fall asleep without sucking your th–’

‘Pepino’s right,’ Holly interrupted, ‘Maybe we could work for you, Mademoiselle Malypense! Two days