Читать книгу The Guesthouse - Abbie Frost - Страница 10

Hannah stared at Mo as Sandeep stormed from the room and the door slammed behind him. Mo looked down at his phone, unable to meet her eye.

After a pause, she said, ‘Is he all right?’

Mo didn’t answer, and Hannah found herself glancing out of the kitchen window towards a small brick-built outhouse that crouched in the darkness under the trees. She swallowed.

When Mo finally spoke, his voice was croaky. ‘I’m sorry about him.’ He took off his glasses and rubbed them on his shirt. ‘He’s just tired after that long walk, and he hasn’t been sleeping. He’s got this cough and his doctor said he needs a rest, so I booked the holiday. Thought he’d love it.’ A little laugh. ‘He used to live in the area, you know. Came here from Pakistan, married Mum and they stayed for years. I was born near here too, lived in Ireland until I was fifteen.’

Hannah tried to smile. ‘That explains the accent.’

‘Yeah, I had a full-on Irish brogue when I arrived in London. Got bullied at school and managed to get rid of most of it. But I’ve never been as happy as I was when we lived here. Still feel Irish, I guess.’

He glanced at the closed door. ‘Since Mum’s death my dad has been really low. Hasn’t bothered about anything. I’ve been popping in to check his post and emails and I spotted this offer from Cloud BNB. Guessed he must have been thinking about visiting. So I decided to book it as a surprise.’

Then his smile faded. ‘It was a mistake to come. At first he refused, didn’t want to go to Ireland at all, but I kept on until he finally agreed. It was all going fine until we arrived and started walking down that bloody track. He was confused, kept saying we were going the wrong way. We carried on, him silent the whole time, and when he saw the house, he just lost it. Flipped out. Said this wasn’t The Guesthouse; it was all some kind of joke. They’d changed the name just to fool people.’

‘Does he know this place then?’

‘Apparently, but he wouldn’t talk about it. Wouldn’t say why he hates it so much. Just kept going on and on about its bad reputation, how it feels all wrong.’ Mo tried to smile.

Hannah thought about the figure at the window when she first arrived. They lapsed into silence and listened to the wind tapping against the kitchen window.

Something tickled at her ankle and she jerked away, her leg hitting the table with a bang. The grey cat stepped out from underneath and Hannah laughed nervously. ‘Stupid thing.’ But when she picked it up and tried to put it on her lap, the cat leapt down and went to lie by the Aga.

‘Knows its own mind,’ Mo said. ‘It was crying at the window when we came in here. I tried to open the back door.’ He gestured behind them. ‘But it’s locked and I couldn’t find a key. Had to let it in through the front.’

They lapsed into silence and watched the cat lick each of its back legs in turn.

Then there was a loud buzz and a click from the hall, and the front door swung open letting in a gust of wind.

‘I hope this is our host.’ Hannah pulled back her chair and they both stood. ‘He’s got some explaining to do.’

They walked into the hall and stood awkwardly by the stairs. But the figure who stepped through the door was nothing like the burly man from the website.

A stunning young woman walked in – tall, dressed all in black, her short hair almost white. A long strand hanging over one eye. Like Hannah, this girl had dark roots and streaks, but they were blue and purple: a fashion statement rather than laziness.

The new guest stood at the door looking at them. For a brief moment an expression of something like distress passed over her face, before it was replaced by an irritated frown.

She slung a rucksack onto the floor by the door and pulled off her black Doc Martens. Left them by the walking boots and wiped a muddy hand on her trousers.

‘Hi, I’m Lucy.’

Her fingers were covered in rings, her ears crowded with studs. A sapphire-coloured stone glittered on the side of her nose, highlighting her high cheekbones and huge blue eyes.

Mo seemed to recover himself and stepped forward. ‘I’m Mo and this is Hannah.’ His Irish twang came on stronger. ‘I’m here with my dad and Hannah’s on her own like you.’ Making sure Lucy knew they weren’t a couple, Hannah guessed. ‘We were having some coffee in the kitchen.’ They all headed through, sitting at the table again.

Lucy stretched out her long legs. ‘Bit of a walk, eh. I thought it was supposed to be near the village.’ She stood up and went to the fridge. Then looked in the freezer and opened a couple of cupboards. ‘No booze either. That’s a bummer.’

Hannah felt her spirits rise: someone she could get along with. She considered mentioning her vodka upstairs but thought better of it. ‘I’m going to walk to the village in the morning and find a shop.’

‘Good idea, I’ll come with you.’ Lucy smiled, but when the buzzer sounded again, she flashed an anxious glance at the door.

Raised voices drifted out from the hallway and, after a moment, three people entered the kitchen. A little family, bringing with them gusts of ice-cold air. The woman, arms crossed over her fancy white top, gave them a stony look. ‘I hope one of you is the host.’

Hannah sighed. ‘’Fraid not. There’s no sign of him. Looks like he’s avoiding us. The website did say it was self-check-in, though, so the host doesn’t have to be here. That’s why we have the electronic keypad—’

‘It’s ridiculous,’ the woman interrupted. ‘We’ve had to park miles away on the main road and stumble down a dirt track – in the dark – and with a child too.’

The teenage girl went red and turned away from them. The poor kid was probably around fourteen.

Her father gave them a warm smile. ‘Yes, well. I’m Liam and this is my wife, Rosa, and daughter, Chloe.’ His smile got bigger. ‘Excuse Rosa, it’s been a long walk.’

Rosa’s voice was still sharp. ‘And I don’t like the thought of our car out there in the middle of nowhere.’

‘Ours is too,’ Mo said. ‘They should be all right in a place like this. Not much crime around.’ He gestured to the Aga. ‘There’s coffee on the stove.’

‘None for us.’ Rosa looked at Chloe and Liam. ‘We should find our room and have a shower. Come on.’

But Liam stepped towards the Aga. ‘You go on. I could do with a hot drink.’

Rosa stared at him for a moment, then strode out, Chloe trailing after her. The girl glanced back at Lucy as she reached the door.

Liam poured himself some coffee and held up the pot. ‘Anyone else?’ Hannah and Mo shook their heads.

‘I’ll just have some juice, thanks.’ Lucy went to the fridge.

Hannah concentrated on her own mug but noticed Liam and Mo sneaking glances at Lucy.

Liam was tall and strong-looking with sandy hair thinning at the front. He had a warm Scottish lilt to match his warm smile. He sat at the end of the table, leaned back and took a gulp of coffee.

‘So, what brings you all here?’ His eyes flicked along Lucy’s legs.

Lucy raised her glass of orange juice and laughed. ‘You first, Liam.’

‘We don’t live far away, actually, but we’re in the middle of a house move and having some problems. Sold our place and bought a new-build. But the work has been delayed – it’s been a complete nightmare to be honest – so we’re marking time here. Rosa found this place and I negotiated us a deal. A pretty good one, too.’ He flashed a white-toothed smile at Lucy. ‘I don’t know how much you lot are paying, but apparently we can stay as long as we like.’

There was an awkward pause, then Lucy put her glass down on the worktop. ‘Moving house is always a bloody nightmare.’ She looked out the window. ‘I’m dying for a cigarette. Might head out for one in the garden.’

Hannah had given up a few years ago, but over the past few months the old craving had crept back into her life and now she felt its familiar stirring. ‘Can I steal one? I’ll get some more tomorrow.’

Lucy nodded, and they walked out the front door.

The rain had stopped and the dark starless sky stretched away towards the horizon. Still and black, darker than any night Hannah had known in England. Lucy flicked a switch by the front door and a dim lamp buzzed on, illuminating the grey cat as it snaked past them and ran along the patio into the night.

They sat on a big iron bench, and Lucy lit her cigarette. ‘How long you staying?’

She raised her lighter to the cigarette in Hannah’s lips and clicked, the flame flickering in Lucy’s eyes as Hannah sucked in a lungful of smoke. She tried not to cough. ‘Just a week. You?’

‘Maybe two,’ she laughed. ‘But I’m not so sure now.’

Hannah took another drag and laughed. ‘I’m sure Liam would like you to stay.’

Lucy grimaced. ‘Great, he’s just what I need.’

‘You did seem kind of surprised to find us all here, though. Were you expecting to be alone?’

Lucy turned to face her. She really was gorgeous. ‘Was it that obvious? I make music. Just broke up with my band and got an offer for a solo contract. I wanted somewhere quiet, you know, somewhere to write and think. Thought this place would be empty, that no one else would arrive until at least next week.’

‘You make music, cool.’ She might have known. ‘What kind of stuff?’

‘A mix of things to be honest. Punk, death metal, you know.’ Hannah nodded vaguely as Lucy continued, ‘I need to make my mark before I get past it. Twenty-five isn’t young in the music industry.’

So they were the same age. Hannah settled into sullen silence and continued smoking. Thought about everything Lucy had already accomplished, about what it must be like to stand on stage as a sea of people cheered your name. Then she pictured her own messy bedroom back in her mum’s house, her own messy life. She took a final drag and stabbed the fag out on the bench.

Mo and Liam had managed to make a meal, with Sandeep’s assistance. They’d used a huge frying pan to knock up what Mo called ‘a kind of ratatouille’. Everyone sat together at the kitchen table, but only Rosa was talking.

‘I just don’t understand why they didn’t mention the lack of road access.’ A wave of her fork for emphasis. ‘Needless to say, I’ve left a complaint on the website and sent our host several messages.’ She looked down at her dish and gave it a poke, as if noticing it for the first time. ‘This looks lovely, but isn’t there any meat in the fridge?’

Liam touched her other hand. ‘Mo and Sandeep are vegetarian, love.’

Rosa went to say something, but Lucy got there first. ‘Me too. There’s a big chorizo sausage in one of the cupboards, though. You could fry that up and add it in.’

Rosa smiled tightly and took a drink of water. ‘No, it’s fine. I’ll do something with meat tomorrow.’ Hannah had been trying to place her Scottish accent and realized it was just like Maggie Smith’s in that movie her mum was always watching, The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. Posh Edinburgh.

Chloe gave Mo a shy smile. ‘I like it, thank you.’

During the meal Hannah stayed quiet. It seemed that they all, except Lucy, had some kind of connection to the area. Liam obviously loved the sound of his own voice, even more so than his wife. He told them all that he was a very successful GP who’d recently retired from a local practice and was moving back to Scotland with his family as soon as their house was ready.

Lucy wasn’t Irish, but she’d been living in Dublin. She’d been attracted by Preserve the Past website and its promise of comfortable historic houses in quiet locations.

‘But this was the only one I could afford. I also think self-check-in is a cool idea – it just makes sense. I mean, who actually wants to meet the host?’ When nobody responded, Lucy went on. ‘I’ve stayed in B&Bs before where they never leave you alone.’

Hannah couldn’t sit still. She picked at her food and her eyes kept returning to the drinks cupboard in the corner of the room that by rights should have contained wine, at least a few bottles of Henry Laughton’s expensive vintage stuff. Hannah’s hands felt clammy and her top kept sticking to her back. She wanted to open a window, but it was freezing outside. When Mo stood up and suggested cheese and biscuits or ice cream, Hannah made her excuses and went to leave the room without meeting anyone’s eye.

‘Chocolate ice cream for me. What about you, Chloe?’ Mo said.

‘She’ll have some fruit or a plain yogurt,’ Rosa replied.

Hannah slipped out the door. Wouldn’t fancy being Chloe and putting up with Rosa The Dictator for a mother. But by the time Hannah was halfway up the stairs, she was thinking of nothing but the vodka waiting in her room.

But something made her stop, a prickling along her spine like a feather touching skin. She turned and stared around the hallway, expecting to see someone watching her. But it was empty, just the strange paintings across one wall and the tapestry hanging beside the kitchen door.

Then a huge bang echoed around the space, and Hannah let out a gasp. She dropped to her knees.

Another crash, this time even louder, from somewhere in the house above her. Then silence.

Heart thumping, one hand on the bannister, Hannah stared up the stairs and waited for the ceiling to fall down on top of her.