Aisling's Summer Diary

Chapter 3 | Trouble in Paradise

After our run-in with Trá Álainn’s coolest at the café (how embarrassing was that?!) and our narrow escape from the crazed Lotus Lady, we’d finally tracked down Siobhan’s uncle—the business-guru turned surfer wannabe.  Little did we know, those mishaps were only the beginning! 

6:30 p.m.

I have never seen Siobhan like this—wide-eyed, big stupid grin—she was literally over the moon to see her uncle Ciaran.  In fact, she was SO excited she didn’t notice how shocked and almost cagey he was when she bounded into the water after him.  She didn’t twig AT ALL, just kept right on squeezing him and yammering about how much she’s missed him and aren’t we going to have so much fun this summer?!  He looked at Siobhan, then at me and Ali, and his eyes narrowed like he was trying to work out a sum in his head.  Then he straightened up and put on a big, clownish smile, nodding along to everything Siobhan was saying.  I don’t know about you, but I’m beginning to worry that uncle Ciaran isn’t exactly the uncle Siobhan thinks he is. 

First off, why had he left us stranded at the bus station?  I’d was dying to ask—I have blisters the size of Jaffa cakes on BOTH of my heels!  When Siobhan quizzed him about it, he totally brushed her off.  Instead of giving her a straight answer he just mumbled something about being backed up with work.  He kept looking (I thought very rudely) over her shoulder at the surfers on the outside break.  Siobhan’s face crumpled.  She was confused—we all were—but she didn’t press Ciaran any further.  He must have had a good reason for letting her down, right?  She looked back at me; none of the light had gone out of her eyes.  Like it or not, Siobhan had decided to give her uncle the benefit of the doubt.  

“That’s alright I guess,” she said to him through chattering teeth.  Ciaran hugged her, rubbed at her arms a bit, and told her she was mad—the water was freezing!  Why didn’t we go on ahead and have a look at the hotel ourselves, he’d catch up with us later.  He dug a long, skeleton looking key out of his wetsuit pocket, handed it to Siobhan, and nodded up the beach. 

On the edge of the bluff, almost invisible against the dunes, sat a sprawling dumpish place with sharp pointed gables, a deep set porch, and wooden shingles that had been sun-bleached a dull white.  Every one of the oversized windows was dark, and the path leading up from the beach was overgrown with spurs of sea grass.  “That’s the hotel?” Siobhan asked, but Ciaran had already disappeared under a big foamy wave.

7:00 p.m.

The three of us trudged up the dunes with our straw hats and sun chairs and beach floats.  We must have looked like some sort of bizarre desert caravan.  Thank GOD there was no one around to see.  When we finally reached the top of the ridge, we collapsed on top of our suitcases just shy of the front steps.  The broad shadow of the hotel seemed almost to reach out over top of us.  Ali shivered slightly, and I poked him—“FREAK-YYY!”  “I’m cold,” he said, “the wind up here and all.”  “So go on then,” I said, and he gave an exaggerated bow, out-swept his hand and said, “After you.”  Siobhan shook her head at us—“Come ON, you two,” she said, and we followed her up the steps. 

When she slid the key into the lock there was a dull clank and then three tinny clicks that sent a bright echo through the house.  Why so many locks? I wondered as we pushed into a dark, musty hallway.  Is uncle Ciaran trying to keep something out?  Or in?  Just then, Siobhan spun round squealing!  She flailed about, shooing the dank, dusty air in front of her face.  “What IS IT?!” I screamed.  Siobhan sighed, relieved.  “Only cobwebs,” she said and grabbed up my hand.  Slowly, we picked our way through the darkness into a cavernous parlor.  I could hear the wind whistling down the chimney at the far end of the room, and I just make out a row of low tables and chairs shrouded in sheets.  “Sheets?  Really?” I said.  “Siobhan, what is the deal with this place?”  Ali knocked against one of the tables, and a plume of dust filled the air.  Somewhere, deep inside the house, something creaked.  “What was that?!”  I reached for Siobhan.  “It’s probably just the house,” she said.  “The house what?”  “I don’t know,” she said.  “Settling.  It’s OLD.” 

Ali sneezed, “Smells very old.”  He felt his way along the wall for a light switch, flicked it on, but nothing happened.  He pressed another.  Still dark.  Third switch and a dusty naked bulb crackled to life.  “Abracadabra!” Ali hollered, but then the light fizzed and popped and went out.  We felt our way along the corridor and turned into a hall lit faintly overhead by narrow skylights.  There was a glassed in reception desk, a row of doors, and a lone hospital bed.  “What is this place?” I asked.  Ali picked up something from the sideboard—a visitors’ registry.  “Sea Crest: Dignified Living,” he read and thumbed through the pages, squinting in the half light.  “This was an old folks’ home?”  Siobhan and I scurried over to him and read over his shoulder.  “Oh. My.  God.  People probably died here,” I said shivering.  Siobhan told me I was being ridiculous.  It’s just an old building.  She sucked in a deep breath, “You can smell the potential.”  “And the damp,” Ali said.  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. 

Whatever this place was, it’s falling apart now.  I hung my coat up on a hook, and the whole thing came off and crashed to the floor!  “Sorry,” hoping I hadn’t hurt Siobhan’s feelings.  “No worries,” she said, but there was an edge to her voice.  The picture she must have had in her head was literally disintegrating.  Then Ali leaned against a book case, and the shelves crumbled and smashed apart!  “Oops,” he said.  I thought Siobhan was going to loose it, and I don’t blame her.  Uncle Ciaran had obviously built this place up as some sort of Shangri La, and now being here—seeing it (and SMELLING it)—it was like a bad dream!  Not only was the Sea Crest a total dive, it was more than likely haunted by a hoard of dead grannies! 

 But Siobhan was determined to see it her uncle’s way, or at least the way he wanted her to see it.  “Anyone could buy something perfect and make a go of it,” she said.  She strode over to the reception desk and propped her uncle’s book up on the counter.  “It takes a REAL entrepreneur to see what no one else can.”  Maybe Siobhan’s right.  Maybe there is something more to this place than what I can see.  I suppose I should give uncle Ciaran a chance to enlighten us, even if he does seem a bit scattered.

7:15 p.m.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait very long.  We were poking about in the “office” when the front door flung open, and in bursts Ciaran, harried and out of breath, still kitted out in his wet suit.  He propped his board against the wall and then propped himself against the door, signaling for us to SHHHHHH!  Siobhan went to say something, and Ciaran shook his head, frenzied.  Someone pounded on the door.  Ciaran flinched but didn’t turn around.  The banging got louder.  “Mr. Kelly!” a voice  bellowed through the door.  “I know you’re in there!”

Ciaran slunk over to Siobhan.  “Do me a favor, will you Siobhan, love?  Do NOT open that door.”  She frowned.  “But there’s somebody there, shouldn’t you—”  Ciaran shushed her, then whispered, “It’s a mistake.  Probably.”  He shooed us from the door.  “We’ll go out the back and have a nice cup of tea.” 

 BANG—BANG—BANG!  “Mr. Kelly!”  Siobhan looked at me and then at her uncle.  “I really think you should open the door,” she said.  Ciaran gave a strange little smile, than eyed the door which was rattling heavily on its hinges.  Whoever was out there must’ve been pounding with both fists!  “Right,” Ciaran said, “You kiddies run on upstairs now.  I’ve got, em, some business.”  Ali nudged me, “Kiddies?”  Seriously, who IS this guy?  And how daft does he think WE are?  Especially Siobhan?!  I don’t know what Ciaran’s mixed up in, but the whole Businessman front?  It’s wearing more than a little thin.   

...........

Click the Thumbnail Below or Click Info on Mobile to Watch the Webisode.