The Guesthouse. Abbie Frost
He died five years ago.’ Hannah could feel her jaw tightening. She never talked about him. What was she doing telling a complete stranger?
‘So you’ve been here before?’ Sandeep had turned to face her, his voice loud in the silence.
‘Dad?’ Mo glanced at Sandeep then leaned across the table. ‘Don’t mind him, he doesn’t want to be here.’ Mo had a strange accent that Hannah couldn’t place. London certainly, but something else too.
She glanced at Sandeep and sipped her coffee. ‘No, my parents separated when I was young and then my dad died. I never had a chance to get to know him properly.’ She turned the mug around in her hands. ‘When I saw this place on Cloud BNB, I thought it would be nice to see where he lived. I guess I wanted to find out a bit more about him.’ It was the truth as far as it went.
Sandeep turned towards her. ‘You came on your own?’ Once more that disapproving tone. And Hannah saw a flash of Ben laughing, shaking back his fair hair and leaning in to kiss her. Come on, you know you want to go. Can’t keep putting it off. We’ll have a great time.
She heard Mo mutter something under his breath. It could have been, ‘Sorry,’ but she was damned if she was going to let a moody old man get to her.
She looked at Sandeep. ‘I’m interested in the house. I studied architecture and used to work at an architectural practice.’ That was all he was going to get. ‘What about you guys? Why did you decide to come here?’
‘I didn’t. It was his idea.’ Sandeep turned away and continued to scrub the kitchen surfaces. ‘This place is filthy. It’s going to take me all evening to get it clean. And my clothes are still soaking wet from the walk.’
Hannah looked away and wondered why someone would be so unhappy about their holiday. Mo moved around the table to sit beside her and put his phone between them, pushing his glasses further up his nose with one finger. ‘I’m interested in the house too, but the history. I’ve just finished my master’s in history. Have you read about this place? There’s some cool stuff on Preserve the Past website.’
Without waiting for an answer, he tapped his phone and held it up for her to read.
This property was originally called Fallon House after the local village of Fallon. Built in 1763 for the Anglo-Irish Lord Fallon, it remained in the family until the death of the most recent Lady Fallon. Preserve the Past then acquired it and changed the name from Fallon House to The Guesthouse. Preserve the Past is a registered charity and all the proceeds from guest rentals go towards continued renovations.
Mo frowned. He flicked back and forth between pages. ‘Weird. I swear there was more here when I looked before, some fascinating background about the area.’ After a few seconds, he gave up and put down his phone. ‘Apparently some bits of the house are closed off to visitors, because they’re still being renovated. When there’s enough money, I guess. These things cost a fortune.’
Sandeep scrubbed harder at the Aga.
‘Well the outside’s a bit rundown, but it looks pretty good in here. The entrance hall is beautiful.’ Hannah smiled at Mo.
‘It’s incredible. Have you seen—’
One of the cupboard doors slammed shut with a bang. They both jumped and turned to look at Sandeep.
He flung down his cloth and stared at them, his eyes bright. ‘Stop it. Stop it.’ He coughed and put a hand to his mouth. ‘This place … it’s not right. There’s something about it … It isn’t safe.’ There was a stunned silence. ‘I know you think I’m an idiot, Mo, but you need to listen to me.’ He stabbed a finger at his son. ‘I’m leaving tomorrow, and you should too.’
Hannah blinked. She tried to think of something to say, as Sandeep paced back and forth across the kitchen. After a moment he pulled up a chair and sat down heavily. There was a pause before he began to speak, softly but with an intensity that kept Hannah rooted to her seat.
‘I’m not joking.’ He glanced between them. ‘There’s just … It’s a horrible building. It just feels all wrong somehow, dark and cold … I don’t know, like something bad happened here.’ His knuckles were white on the edge of the table.
‘Come on, Dad,’ Mo tried to smile. ‘It’s fine. No one has lived here for years. It’s been completely done up and—’
‘I don’t care! I don’t care what renovations have been done. I don’t care about its architecture. We should never have come.’
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