That Summer at the Seahorse Hotel

by Adrienne Vaughan

  Mia nodded at the mayor, while Ross, wearing a quizzical smile, guided them all out onto the deck.

  The sky above the dark, shimmering sea was splashed with smears of tangerine; a light breeze trembled the lights, making them shiver in anticipation.

  “Short and sweet,” Fenella forewarned Archie.

  “My Lord Mayor,” Archie began, instantly promoting the small town official. “Honoured guests, ladies and gentlemen, it’s a great pleasure, along with my partner in crime, the beautiful Fenella Flanagan.” Pause for applause. “To officially open this fabulous cocktail bar, here at the stunning Harbour Spa Hotel.” He gave a megawatt smile. “My family, the Fitzgeralds, have been in this part of the world forever, it’s our home, our family seat.”

  Bernice winced, Archie always built everything up.

  “And no matter where we are in the world, this will always be home.” More applause. “Now, before we release the Chinese lanterns into the sky, please raise your glasses and drink the health and good fortune of Ross and the Power family in its entirety, for their visionary investment in our sleepy, seaside town and giving us a fabulous five-star establishment to rival any in Europe, no, make that the world!” Archie lifted his glass.

  “The Powers!”

  Ross caught Mia’s eye; he gave her an odd look, as if he not quite deserving of Archie’s accolade but she was suddenly distracted.

  “You came!” Pearl had thrown herself at her legs. “It is you, isn’t it? You look so beautiful.”

  Mia unwrapped the little girl’s embrace.

  “Couldn’t miss this. You look lovely, too.”

  Pearl took Mia’s hand, pulling her to a table. “Everyone has a lantern with a number. We let them go and whoever owns the one landing farthest away, comes to stay at the hotel for free!”

  Pearl’s eyes were alight and although a PR stunt, Mia was not immune to the excitement as they stood side-by-side leaning out to sea, releasing their lanterns at the same time. Pearl squealed as the breeze carried them away.

  “This kid bothering you, ma’am?” Ross stood behind them.

  “Not at all but she’s already beaten me.” Mia pointed as her lantern floated gracefully towards the beach.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Pearl announced. “Mermaids can stay anytime they like, can’t they Ross?” She flashed her eyes at her uncle. “It’s in the Constitution.”

  “Mermaid or not,” he turned to Mia, “you’d be very welcome, anytime.”

  “Probably a little out of my price bracket,” Mia said.

  Pearl took her hand again. “I’m sure we could accommodate you.”

  “There speaks a born hotelier, sorry but it’s in the blood.” Ross excused his niece. By now all the lanterns were afloat.

  “Look, the sky’s full of floating stars, millions of them, with angels steering them, I can see them, everywhere.” Pearl gazed upwards.

  “They’re not stars, Pearl, and there aren’t millions of them, you know that.” Ross chided.

  “There’s a lot to be said for a vivid imagination, don’t you think?” Mia defended Pearl.

  “Reality’s a good thing, too. Staying focused in the here and now, prevents disappointment, I often find.” He raised his eyebrows at Pearl. “Now, I must go and mingle.”

  “Yes, go.” Pearl waved him away. “I want Mia to turn her legs into a fishtail and she won’t do that with you here.”

  So much for the reality check, Mia thought as she watched Ross disappear into the throng before joining the little girl in the wonky tiara to watch millions of stars with angels floating through the night sky.

  MEMORY MAKING

  Archie burst into Mia’s room at an ungodly hour. Mia had been awake for some time. She was at the window, sunlight spilling in as a willow cast fluttering shadows on the yellow walls. Walls painted as a surprise the Easter she came to stay as a ten year old and left again at thirteen. The time Fenella had nearly married.

  She was gazing across the ocean, a myriad of colours sparkling invitingly as she watched early risers hoist sails, chasing towards Phoenix Island then turning about in a flurry of creamy spray to swoop back to the harbour.

  “Come on, let’s go. It’s perfect out there.” He was wearing pink sailing trousers and a top with a hole in it. His deck shoes were ancient. Fenella bought them one Christmas, investing in the very best, knowing full well Archie would expect them to last forever. Mia looked at him, pale beneath his freckles. They had left early last night, Fenella said she had a headache but everyone knew it was Archie who needed to retire.

  He spotted the phone in her lap. “Everything okay?”

  She had tried to call Rupert, wanting to soothe troubled waters, assure him of her love and support. His audition was a big deal, he was bound to be tense.

  “Just wanted to wish Rupert luck, big audition today.”

  “He’ll knock ̓em dead.” He looked into her eyes. “If I can ever help?”

  “Rupert wants to do things his way. He’s really talented, you know.”

  Only a half-lie. Rupert regularly asked if Mia could inveigle the great Archie Fitzgerald to give him a leg up.

  “I’m sure he is, my angel. I’m sure he’s fabulous in every way, why else would you have fallen for him?”

  Her frown faded.

  “Now, let’s make the best of our last day together. Leela’s created an extravagant picnic and Pearl’s on her way.”

  “Pearl?”

  “Yep, just me and my two favourite girls. Let’s go, surf’s up!”

  Mia grabbed a fleece, glancing briefly at the statue of the Virgin Mary in the alcove on the landing, she said a quick prayer that this would definitely not be their last day together.

  Pearl looked very small, standing there in front of the large house, duffle bag in one hand, life jacket in the other. Leela rushed to greet her on hearing Driscoll’s familiar honk of arrival, Mia hot on her heels. The little girl gave them a brave smile but her eyes looked larger than ever.

  “You do know we’re going sailing?” Mia reminded her. “I know you’re not keen.”

  “I dislike it because I had a bad experience,” Pearl said, cornflower-blue pools gazing at her. “Archie says I need a happy experience to balance the bad one, so I grow to like it.”

  “Okay.” Mia guessed Pearl was repeating precisely what Archie had told her. “And how do you feel about that?”

  Pearl thought for a moment. “It begins with A.”

  “Angry? No, anxious,” Mia prompted. Pearl nodded.

  “Archie says if at any time I want to come straight back, we can and when he said you were coming too, I knew I’d be fine.” She gave Mia a smile. It was like a burst of sunshine.

  “Really?” Mia was flattered.

  “If anything bad happens you’ll just call on the other mermaids and they’ll take us to the secret Sea Palace until it’s time to go home.”

  “Pearl, the thing is …” Mia started.

  “So, you see,” continued Pearl, picking up her bag. “I’m safe with you.” And waving to Archie at the top of the steps, started running towards the house.

  “You were frightened of the water, when you were a bit younger than her,” Leela told her, tucking Pearl’s brand new life jacket under her arm.

  “I don’t remember that, thought I always loved it.”

  They started back to the house together.

  “Archie was determined you’d be a sailor and that’s when we rediscovered the magic medicine I’d invented when he was little and determined to hate everything.”

  Mia laughed. “Now that I do remember. Jars of it, a different colour for every ailment.”

  Leela smiled, crimson lipstick dramatic in the morning sunshine. “That’s right, blue for all water-related conditions.” She was referring to her simple concoction, sugar transformed into exotic remedies with food colouring. The clever ploy worked for everything from sea sickness to fear of spiders.

  With little formal education, Le
ela was professorial where common sense was concerned and not untalented when a small dose of witchcraft was required either. Appointed housekeeper, her only qualification being she had raised seven brothers and sisters single-handedly from the age of eleven, Leela was hard as nails and soft as putty. She ruled the kitchen with a rod of iron, with only one chink in her armour, Archie. The adored little boy, she had taken to her heart and who now totally owned her soul.

  “Get out there and enjoy yourselves.” Leela nodded towards the sea. “It’s a fine boat, needs using.”

  “Rather extravagant though, don’t you think? Archie buying a brand new boat, just when …” Mia closed her mouth.

  “When he’s not going to be around to enjoy it? That’s a very cheese-paring way of looking at things, Mia.” Leela gave her a flinty look. “Did you never hear of a bucket list? Where would we be if those given the nod the Grim Reaper was waiting in the wings, didn’t make the best of whatever time they had left?”

  “I’m sorry. I just know Bernice was anti the boat, I wondered if it was because he’s so ill, sailing might be too much for him?” They were in the kitchen now, Leela taking a mismatch of plates from the dresser, wrapping them in napkins before placing them in the picnic basket.

  “Not at all.” Leela was cross. “All Bernice wants him to do is sit quietly making lists of everything he owns, so as soon as he’s gone she can sell the lot. She was mortified when he started spending like there was no tomorrow, sure, it cost thousands to get the old Dame back on the road, and I’ve no idea how much Banshee was, but she’s worth every penny to see the smile on his face when he looks at her, and at you too, it has to be said.”

  Leela was yabbering away but Mia was not listening, the phrase, ‘spending like no tomorrow’ kept repeating in her mind. That’s precisely what Archie was doing, he had no tomorrow; not even Leela had a magic medicine for what ailed him this time.

  Pearl climbed onto the ancient carver. Leela produced, what she called ‘emergency fruit cake’ and was spreading thick yellow butter on a slice for the spindly little girl.

  “This’ll put a lining on your stomach. It’s Padraig’s favourite recipe.” Leela said.

  “Padrig?” Pearl mispronounced.

  “Padraig the Pirate, fierce cake-eater, he is.” Leela carried on with her work. Archie gave Pearl a knowing look, biting into cake. A gust of wind whipped through the open door, causing the brass chandelier above the table to creak as it moved. Pearl’s eyes swivelled upwards, then silently she let her gaze absorb the room as she ate. Oil paintings of galleons on high seas adorned the walls; a collection of shark jaws rested on a shelf, a rusting anchor stood resolutely in an alcove.

  “Is this house very old?” Pearl asked Leela, obviously the eldest in the room.

  “Ancient,” Leela confirmed. “Archie’s great-great-grandfather built it.”

  “Probably need to add another couple of greats,” Archie said. “But Leela’s right, it’s very old.”

  Pearl looked round again. “And do you have to live here?” She had a point, compared with the Harbour Spa Hotel, Galty House was positively decrepit.

  “It’s our home,” Archie told her. “Old houses look like this, it’s called character.”

  Pearl frowned. “Will you live in it until it falls down?”

  “It’s not going to fall down,” Mia explained. “It’s been here a long time, it’ll be here a lot longer yet.”

  The little girl looked unconvinced. She pointed at a large metal sign above the range, it read The Seahorse Hotel in turquoise letters on a black background. It had been made by the local blacksmith, a gift to Mrs Fitzgerald from a grateful commanding officer at the end of the Second World War.

  “Was this a hotel too?” Pearl’s eyes widened.

  “Sort of,” Archie answered. “A story for another time.”

  “I still like it,” Pearl announced, helping Mia carry the picnic. “It’s a bit like Hogwarts by the sea.”

  “What is?”

  Mia was distracted, Leela had supplied enough food to feed an army.

  “Galty.” Pearl looked back at the house.

  “I suppose it is,” laughed Mia.

  It certainly knew how to cast a spell, of that there was no doubt.

  The Harbour Spa Hotel looked beautiful from out at sea, half submarine, half-Egyptian barge, porthole windows glimmered above the water, while awnings billowed gracefully in the breeze. Watched through half-closed eyes, it appeared to be moving, a glorious galleon, blazing in the sunshine, a shimmer in the moonlight. It was a lavish work of genius, no expense had been spared.

  Ross Power’s head was full to bursting, yet again he had worked through the night, examining spreadsheets and costings and something else, messages from staff about problems, equipment failure, maintenance issues; he was growing more and more anxious.

  Pearl had slipped in earlier to say goodnight and despite her ever-growing repertoire of sophisticated airs and graces, in her pyjamas with her hair brushed out, she looked fragile, just how he remembered Tara at that age; charming and entertaining, wily and wilful, with the same vivid imagination that scared him.

  Pearl had been at the window pointing out across the bay.

  “That’s where Uncle Archie’s taking us, the island, the one that looks like a sea monster.” She gave a sigh. “I hope I make it.”

  “Sure you want to try? You know I can’t come tomorrow, I’ve an important meeting in Dublin,” he explained again.

  “Mia’s coming, I’ll be safe with her,” she was going to expound her mermaid backup theory but changed her mind. Ross seemed less appreciative of her storytelling these days; telling her she needed true stories, not make-believe; tales she could back up with hard facts. Pearl thought that was rich coming from him. Everyone said the hotel cost millions and the family, her family, owned it. But when she asked to see the money, imagining a treasure chest locked away in a cave, he had nothing to show her.

  “How can I be a princess without any actual gold?” she had bleated, lower lip pushed out.

  “You’ll have to earn it and save it, like all the modern princesses do,” Ross replied, ploughing through yet another file. Pearl gave a flick of her head.

  “I’m nearly ten, I won’t have time to save all the billions I need.” He was not listening. “I’ll just have to marry money the way Granny did.”

  Ross looked up. “Wherever did you hear such a thing?”

  “Why, Granny of course.” Pearl gave a little twirl and blew a kiss as she left.

  Caroline had appeared at the door, wearing her ‘time for bed’ look. She had already been instructed to escort Pearl sailing on their neighbour’s boat and was put out; she had been hoping for a day off.

  “You guys have fun, you hear me?” Ross had called, slightly puzzled why Pearl thought the mad woman with the red hair could make everything okay but he chose not ask, he needed to focus, prepare for tomorrow. “And take real good care.”

  “We will,” replied Pearl, but taking Caroline’s hand, she knew the nanny would not be escorting her in the morning. Pearl had already paid Driscoll to take her directly to Galty House before Caroline even woke.

  Now, with the sun high in the sky, Pearl, Archie and Mia were anchored off the far western point of Phoenix Island, devouring a scrumptious lunch of fresh crab salad with Leela’s crunchy homemade coleslaw.

  The three sat munching companionably on deck, the boat bobbing in a soft sea. Despite Pearl clinging to the bow rail and then to Mia, the little girl who hated water had been quiet and uncomplaining. Anchored off the small rocky bay, she seemed quite content, if a little subdued for the effervescent youngster Mia had grown fond of in so short a time.

  “Are you here for the whole summer Pearl?” Mia asked.

  “I think I live here now,” Pearl replied, “I’m going to be a pupil at Mary Magdalene when vacation’s over. I’ve to stay for my studies, Ross said.”

  “Quite right.” Archie stretched out, dr
opping his battered panama over his eyes. “Education is very important, best stay as long as you can, make the most of it. The Good Sisters will give you a solid grounding, Mia went there too, got a first in her degree, though likes to keep that quiet.”

  Mia raised an eyebrow at him. Fenella’s nomadic lifestyle meant her early education had been haphazard but it was true, she had spent the majority of her formal schooldays at the convent. It was most unlike Archie to deliver plaudits where education and in particular, a Catholic education was concerned. Always a firebrand revolutionary in the face of organised religion, Archie was a free thinking libertarian believing only in love and the arts. To his mind everything else was contrived and commercial, or so he had indoctrinated Mia from an early age.

  “How do you know it never did me any harm?” Mia asked.

  “You did better than I, imprisoned by the Christian Brothers up at The Holy Cross. Brother Aquinas beat everyone black and blue and Padre Thomas, delirious with sunstroke from the missions, wouldn’t have known a syllabus if he ran into one. Sure, he nearly fainted with shock when the school inspector demanded we sit the national exam papers. He considered such things beneath his boys.” He gave a grim smile. “He was probably right.”

  “Surely things have moved on?” Mia teased, looking at Pearl who had edged a little closer to the side, a pool of aquamarine enticing her.

  “I love the Good Sisters,” Pearl said, not missing a thing. “When I tell Sister Agnes what Archie says about school, she says that was the Middle Ages and all the dragons have been slain, metro … metraphysically speaking.”

  “Metaphorically speaking,” Archie corrected. “Do you know what that means?”

  “It’s a figure of speech, a descriptive example to explain something.” Pearl replied.

  Mia laughed. Pearl’s education seemed more than adequate for one so young.

  A boat buzzed by and Pearl jumped back, fearing she would be splashed. They watched it whiz towards the island, releasing its passengers into the water, who shrieked with delight. The swimmers, a group of tanned teenagers, were soon scrabbling up the cliffs, running excitedly across the grassy mound, shimmering in the sunshine. They were heading for what looked like a ruined fortress, a wide circular wall with turrets. The youngsters’ voices faded as they disappeared.