Baby I'm Longing For- First Draft

Junkyard Records

Munkustrap bounded into the infirmary, looking a little out of breath.

"Sorry I'm late...!" He panted, "Something...came up..." He suddenly realised that the Seal point Snowshoe wasn't actually listening, because she was too busy talking to someone on the black bakelite telephone, so he leaned against the wall and waited patiently for her to finish. Well I say patiently...

"Oui maman!" Jazzie was saying to someone speaking animatedly on the other end. "Oui, maman, j'ai vraiment un bébé!" She waited for the excited chatter to die down, before replying, "Ah merci, je ne sais pas encore. Je t'aime aussi! Oui." She gasped, "Maman!" She shot a guilty glance a Munkustrap, hoping he hadn't understood what her mother had just said about him. A raised eyebrow and a confused expression told her that he hadn't, but he had a jolly good idea! Then she sighed, "Oui Maman. Non Maman. Oui. Au revoir. Oui, je t'aime aussi. Au revoir! Non, vous raccrochez..." Munkustrap was now rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. "Oui, d'accord Maman! Oui! Au revoir! Je t'aime aussi...!" Munkustrap rolled his eyes to the ceiling and silently prayed,

"Give me strength!" After what seemed like a lifetime of toing and froing, Jazzie finally hung up the phone, and not a moment too soon, because if she had uttered another,

"Non, vous raccrochez!" he thought he just might end up strangling her with the telephone cord.

"What were you telling her, your life story?" he grumbled.

"You're late!" she complained.

"Even later now!" he muttered. She folded her arms and pursed her lips at that.

"What are we late for anyway?" She asked.

"I'll explain later, no time now!" He grabbed her arm, "Come on, we might make it if we run!"

"Where are we going?"

"Nowhere if we don't hurry up! Now stop dithering, woman, and come along, or we really will be late!"

"Late for what?"

"Come on!"

Sometime later, Munkustrap knocked on the black door of the partly white washed Victorian five story building, which was part of a terraced complex, complete with large panel windows and pointless wrought iron decorations, spiked wrought iron railings and a staircase leading to a basement below the street level.

The door opened just a fraction and a face peeped out at them. On seeing who it was, the door was flung open to reveal a post middle aged blue charcoal Bengal, wearing a blue leopard print cropped denim jacket with the sleeves cut off, and his smokey fur was so dark that his rosette spots could only just be made out.

"Nephew!" He greeted Munkustrap, "Welcome! I take it you're here for the studio?"

"Yes, good evening uncle. Not too late am I?"

"No no! You're on time. And who is this?" He just noticed Jazzie and immediately took her paw and bowed, "Either Rum Tum Tugger has had a sex change or this isn't Rum Tum Tugger?"

"What impeccable manners you have," Jazzie replied, "My name is Doctor Jazzminora. But my friends call me Jazzie! And you are?"

"Keralon. I am the sound engineer here.Are you here to record?"

"Um...I'm not sure..." She looked at Munkustrap, who winked.

"Surprise, my dear!" He smiled.

"Won't you come on through?" said Keralon, leading through a hallway with walls decorated with ornate records.