That Summer at the Seahorse Hotel

by Adrienne Vaughan

  “At least tell me you’ve spoken to Eamon and made a will, tell me that much.” Her eyes were pleading.

  “No need to speak to Eamon.” Archie took a cigar from his breast pocket. He sipped the wine. “Lovely vintage, don’t you think?”

  “But there is, Archie, a desperate need, you have to make a will!” Bernice urged.

  “But I have, dearest sister.”

  “Have what?”

  “Made a will.”

  “Eamon, is this true?” she asked their cousin.

  Eamon put his glass down, flustered.

  “Not with Eamon, I don’t want Eamon to know what’s in my will. Why would I? What’s it to him?” Archie smiled, taking the sting out of his words.

  “He’s our solicitor.” Bernice was beginning to despair.

  “If I choose to tell anyone what’s in my will that will be my decision. As it stands, until I’ve ditched this mortal coil, my will is my business. Now, close your mouth, Bernice, let’s make plans for tomorrow and the unveiling of my supreme surprise.”

  With half his audience spellbound and the other half flummoxed, Archie lit his cigar and blowing smoke rings above his head, described the fabulous yacht he had recently acquired, inviting them all aboard for lunch the next day. A door slammed. He stopped mid-flow. Bernice had taken her leave.

  “No matter. She’ll know everything in the fullness of time,” he said softly, pointing to his sister’s abandoned glass. “Drink up, Eamon, waste not, want not. I’d hate you to say I never shared anything with you.”

  As the others chatted, making plans for tomorrow, their voices faded and Mia woozy again was dreaming of the beach, Galty’s beautiful little bay, where she had learned to swim …

  … she was in the ocean now, the silky water caressed her and she was again a mermaid, twirling as the colours of the ocean floated past, stretching her arms, hair flowing, swishing her tail, wild and free. But the water grew cold and she started to shiver, in the distance she could see something dark, drawing her forwards. She felt her heart flutter and giving a huge flick of her tail started to swim away, away from the blackness as fast as she could. She knew she had to escape, because there, deep in the darkness, something evil lurked, something that ate mermaids for breakfast; particularly mermaids who had no protection, tasty little mermaids, whose fathers had abandoned them … always a delicacy on the sea monster’s menu.

  “You’re only a nightmare,” she said into the darkness. “I’ve seen it all before.” And though she was still half-asleep and longed to stretch the stiffness from her leg, she dare not move, not yet, not till it was light and there was undeniable proof that the sea monster really was just a figment of her imagination.

  HER MAIDEN VOYAGE

  Mia woke early; the wisp of nightmare evaporating as she opened her eyes, and although her leg throbbed, her head was clear. Throwing back the duvet ‒ the same blue cotton scattered with buttercups that had draped her bed since her teenage ‒ she pulled a sweater over her tee-shirt and hopped to the window. The sunlight was blinding, and shielding her eyes against the brightness, she pressed her forehead against the glass to absorb the warmth.

  An early shower had left everything freshly washed; the yellow terrace, twisting path and lawns, shining all the way to golden sand and glittering sea. She pushed open the window, breathing deeply to drink in the air ‒ calming, cleansing, cathartic.

  The breeze pushed strands of hair about her face and taking it to twist into a knot, her fingers touched the metal braid on her left hand, the makeshift engagement ring … Rupert. She wrapped herself in an embrace, remembering gorgeous, outrageous, fabulous Rupert. How he had pursued and seduced her, peeling away her inhibitions and almost eating her alive. Just the memory made her shiver with pleasure, every inch kissed and caressed on that steamy September night. She recalled the scent of cypress, the smoothness of his skin, her fingers in his damp hair, his mouth at her breast as he murmured her name.

  “Mia! Mia, are you up?” She jumped back, embarrassed. Archie was below in cut-off jeans and a Rolling Stones tee-shirt. “Fancy a walk on the beach?”

  “My leg,” she reminded him.

  “A hop then? We’ll go in, saltwater will do it good.”

  “That’s how it happened!”

  He gave her a grin. “Come on, let’s plot an adventure like the old days, might discover a monster’s lair.”

  She started laughing. He had always eased away the reticence, igniting her imagination with fascinations of mystery and intrigue.

  “On my way,” she told him.

  By the time Mia hobbled through the kitchen, Archie was nowhere to be seen. Thoughtfully, a walking stick was propped against the back door but patience had never been one of Archie’s virtues, he rarely waiting for anyone or anything. Mia recognised the stick, a family heirloom. It featured a fox head handle and bronze name plate above a slim length of golden wood. The elegant animal had amber eyes and the plate read ‘Francis Fitzgerald’, the rarely mentioned patriarch, now long gone.

  Reaching the steps, she looked along the bright sand. Deserted. Archie would be in the boathouse, preparing for the great ‘reveal’ he had promised his guests the previous evening. Her leg ached, so taking Archie’s advice she dragged herself to the water’s edge and wriggling out of joggers, sat in the shallows, sending out sparkling ripples. The water was cold but it would help. Mia gritted her teeth and wiggling her toes, turned her gaze on the high, cloudless sky. Archie was right, the throbbing subsided.

  Unwinding her hair, she let the sea lap lazily about her, as leaning back the coils of copper darkened, dipping in and out of the water. Turning on her side she looked across the barely quivering bay to Phoenix Island, a bumpy green mass, the mysterious hump-backed sea creature of her dreams, glowing like a dark emerald in the heat and finally relaxing she stretched out to let the ocean soothe her, the cry of the gulls swooping and swirling through her mind. At last all was calm.

  “Is it a mermaid?” the little girl whispered.

  “Never seen a mermaid round here before.” A man’s voice.

  “No, but I’m sure they come here for holidays, Mama says all the best people do.”

  He laughed, deep in his chest. “Why don’t you ask her?”

  “ I don’t speak mermaid,” she replied, cornflower blue eyes gazing at the figure, half in, half out of the sea, ropes of sodden hair splayed in the sand.

  “She might speak English, they’re very well educated, they travel a lot.”

  Mia became aware of a presence at her shoulder.

  “Excuse me,” a young voice said. “Are you a mermaid?”

  Mia dragged her brain out of cotton wool clouds and propped herself on an elbow. The little girl leaning towards her had such a look of innocent, hopefulness Mia really wished she could say yes. She lifted her good leg out of the water.

  “Sorry, just an ordinary human.” The little girl was about nine years old, golden hair tied up in a ponytail. She wore denim dungarees and sparkly sandals which she kept very deliberately out of the water. She looked familiar. “I’m Mia.” She wiped her wet, sandy hand extending it to the little girl.

  “I’m Pearl.” The girl frowned, ignoring the hand offered. “You’re definitely not a mermaid then?”

  “Nope. No fishtail.”

  “Not always the case,” said a soft brown voice.

  Mia jumped. “Sorry?” Trying to stand, she forgot her injury and crumpled towards the ground. Two strong arms gripped her, gently standing her upright. She tried to take her own weight but her leg gave way and she fell against him, the warm skin through his shirt making her shiver.

  “Sorry,” she said again.

  “Don’t be.” He gave a lazy smile.

  Balancing on one leg, she took hold of her hair to wring out the water, trying to brush sand off her clothes at the same time. A wave washed over her feet.

  “Look!” Pearl cried, pointing at the water. The walking stick with the fox head was being
taken out to sea.

  “I’ll get it.” He splashed into the waves.

  Mia watched the man swim after the stick.

  “Don’t worry,” Pearl called out. “He’s a very good swimmer.” In seconds the man held it aloft and, as if riding a wave, was back on the beach. Placing it across his arm, he presented it to Mia.

  “Your walking cane, ma’am,” he gave that smile again.

  “Just borrowed. Bashed my leg, silly accident,” she stammered, feeling foolish.

  “Sorry to hear that.” He turned the cane in his hand. “Lovely workmanship.” He was looking directly at her. “We’ve met before, you’re the girl on the train.”

  Pearl peered into her face. “Oh, yes the mad woman, the one who shouted at Ross in the bathroom.”

  Mia recognised the little girl now. But the man standing before her in a wet tee-shirt, damp shorts and a flop of dark wavy hair looked nothing like the fractious bundle she had encountered on the train.

  “The mad woman?” Mia pulled on her sunglasses, avoiding his eyes.

  “Yes, that’s what Ross said, a mad woman was yelling at him in the bathroom on the train and I shouldn’t have left my seat because I knew he’d be right back.” Pearl gave the man a look. “Though some grownups say they’ll be right back, then don’t come back at all.”

  “Okay, Pearl, time to let the lady alone,” he said.

  “Thanks.” Mia let the stick take the weight of her bad leg and started towards the boathouse. Archie would be wondering where she was.

  “We’re going that way too.” Pearl skipped to catch up. “Going to see Archie.”

  “Do you mean Archie Fitzgerald?” Mia was surprised.

  “I don’t know his other name but we’re going to see his new boat. I’m being the Queen.” She pointed at her sparkly sandals. “I’ve to smash champagne over it.”

  “No crown?” Mia teased.

  “It’s in the bag.” Pearl pointed at her backpack. “A tiara actually, I’m a bit young for a crown.”

  Mia hid a smile, the little girl was very serious. “Is your uncle royalty too?” She nodded at the man.

  “No, he’s just ordinary. I’ve ten.”

  “Ten what?”

  “Uncles. Do you think that’s enough?”

  “Probably. Are they all like him?”

  “He’s one of the better ones,” Pearl confirmed.

  “I’m going to Archie’s too,” Mia told her. “He’s my uncle in a way.”

  “He’s one of my ten,” Pearl said. “We’re cousins then!”

  Mia gave a quizzical look.

  “Pearl likes to collect things, uncles, cousins, she’s big into family.” The man had overheard.

  “Have you any brothers and sisters, Pearl?” Mia smiled.

  “No,” Pearl replied. “But I’m saving up for a sister.”

  Before Mia could comment, they were interrupted by a skinny man in a Rolling Stones tee-shirt.

  “About bloody time. Where’ve you all been? I could have launched an entire fleet by now.” Archie waved them into the boathouse.

  Pearl ran towards him, arms wide.

  “Uncle Archie, this is Mia, are you her uncle too?”

  He lifted her, spinning her round.

  “Sort of, I’ve known her since she was even smaller than you.”

  “But I’m quite tall!” Pearl was indignant. The men shook hands heartily.

  “So you’ve met Miss Flanagan here.” Archie pulled Mia into the embrace.

  “Not properly.” The man extended his hand. “Ross, Ross Power, good to meet you.”

  “Mia,” she said, not realising how cold her hand was until he touched it.

  “Ross helped deliver Banshee, he’s over from the States, running the family business.”

  Ross Power shrugged. “Just helping out really.”

  “The family business?” Mia asked.

  “The new hotel, very upmarket, you know what these flashy Yanks are like.” Archie was smiling warmly at the newcomers. Mia remembered, the man had given his business card to Fenella; she felt a twinge, shifted her weight.

  “You must come visit,” Ross Power said. “Be my pleasure to show you round.”

  Mia caught sight of herself bumpily reflected in the surface of the boat; straggly hair, sand-stained jogging bottoms. Very upmarket.

  “Thanks, but I’ve to get back to work.”

  “Maybe next time.” He gave her a sweeping look. “What do you do?”

  “Mia’s in the business, darling,” Archie answered for her.

  “An actor?” He sounded surprised.

  “Just a dresser.” Mia loathed being the focus of attention.

  “No just about it! She’s fabulous at her job, hides her light under a bushel. A costume designer’s dream, makes everything look amazing and runs the show like clockwork.” Archie was building her up, as was his way. She was about to protest when the large wooden doors slid back and Driscoll appeared, closely followed by Fenella and Bernice.

  “Dear Lord, it’s huge,” Fenella exclaimed, looking at the vessel, half-hidden under the canvas.

  “You said it was for pottering about the harbour?” Bernice was aghast. “You could live on this!”

  “Not quite, sister dear,” Archie replied. “But I’ll never have another so, I thought I’d go for the best.” He gave a sad look.

  “Emotional blackmail,” Bernice retorted. Her brother had always been a skillful manipulator. “Don’t think I won’t ask the price just because you’re ill.” She was teasing more than angry and tired of fighting.

  “Shall we get her launched?” Archie’s eyes danced with excitement. He started shouting instructions as they busied themselves, happy to play their part in this, the grand design of someone they all cared deeply about. They dragged off the canvas, fastening fenders and coiling sheets neatly on deck, lockers were searched for lifejackets and flares. Archie fired up the electrics, flicking switches as he listened to the hum of the engine. He called to Driscoll to check the propeller, declaring they were good to go.

  Mia felt pretty helpless but pleased to be ‘maid of honour’ attending Pearl’s regal role.

  “If you’ll fetch my tiara, I know where the champagne is,” the little girl told her.

  Satisfied all was ready, Archie instructed Fenella and Ross to open the doors as wide as possible. The young man gave Fenella a double take.

  “Are you?” Ross remembered chatting to her on the train, totally unaware of who she was beyond a kind lady looking after his distraught niece.

  “Am I who you think I am?” she fluttered.

  “I keep forgetting who Archie is in real life. Are you his wife?” Ross opened the huge doors easily. The sunshine streamed in.

  “The oldest friends,” Fenella told him. “Family, really.”

  “I didn’t recognise you on the train yet I’ve seen you in so many movies, I’m sorry.”

  “You were rather stressed.” Fenella waved at the little girl with her daughter. “All’s well that ends well, such a lovely child. The slightly bigger little girl is my daughter, Mia.”

  “We’ve met,” Ross said.

  “Before?” Fenella was hopeful, Mia was secretive about boyfriends.

  “Just now on the beach. Pearl’s convinced she’s a mermaid.” They stopped to watch Pearl brush sand from Mia’s top, in an attempt to upgrade her to a passable lady-in-waiting.

  “Are we nearly ready?” Archie appeared on deck and noticing Pearl’s tiara, nipped below for his captain’s hat. Pearl nodded approval. Mia saw them exchange a look. Archie smiled straight at her.

  “Amazing, isn’t she? Just like you at that age.”

  Mia relaxed into his smile; do you grow out of being amazing? She wondered.

  “Chocks away!” Archie called as the boat started down the slipway. Pearl was counting, one, two, three, holding the bottle aloft. The boat glided towards them, sliding out of the shadows. It gleamed as the bow hit the sunshine.

&n
bsp; “I name this boat Banshee, God bless her and all who sail in her,” Pearl shouted in her biggest voice as she threw the bottle with as much force as she could muster.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” called Archie, saluting as they zipped down the ramp, faster and faster towards the water.

  Pearl produced a hanky to wave after them. It made Mia laugh, she was such an old-fashioned little thing.

  The boat slipped easily into the sea. Archie fired up the engine, it purred deliciously, lapping the water like milk as he powered away from the shore. Mia and Pearl scrambled down to the beach, stopping at the water’s edge to watch.

  “Is Archie coming back for you? I’m afraid I can’t join you with this gammy leg,” Mia said.

  “No point coming back for me, I don’t like boats.”

  A shout. Archie had swung Banshee round, bobbing happily off shore, everyone on deck, smiling in the sunshine, even Bernice.

  “Are you coming aboard? There’s a picnic and everything,” he called. Mia felt a tug at her sleeve.

  “I haven’t told him,” Pearl hissed.

  Mia leaned on her stick, pointing at her leg.

  “Bit sore, I’ll have to head back,” she shouted.

  Archie frowned. Ross stood beside him.

  “I’ll stay with Mia, she’s hurting,” Pearl said.

  “Wait!” Ross pulled off his top and dived into the sea, powering through the water, spray flashing. In minutes he was beside them, shaking himself. Mia looked away.

  “Do you need a hand getting back? Your leg, must be painful …” Ross offered. Pearl had obviously decided she was going to make a friend of the mad woman.

  “He could carry you, he’s quite strong,” Pearl piped up.

  “Oh, no.” Mia was mortified. “I’ll …”

  A bleep … another bleep. She reached inside a pocket for her phone. A text.

  Call when you can. Sooner rather than later.

  It was Lol. Mia scowled at the screen.

  “Problem?” Ross asked.

  “Work,” she replied. “I have to go.” She started limping back towards the house, leaning heavily on the stick as she went.