“Here goes,” said Rory heading through the door and down a tiny tight spiral staircase. Immediately it seemed familiar from his tour with Grog. “This way,” came Stagg’s voice from below. There was already a hint of light in the distance and Rory emerged into a familiar space as he stepped through a door in the wall lined with books. They were in the library.
“You’re the poltergeist!”
“I beg your pardon?” said Stagg.
“Bella Valentine reckoned that there was a poltergeist in here because the books kept moving, but it was you.”
“I’ve read most of the contents of this room. Yes I suspect I haven’t always put things back in the right place,” he said with a vague wave of his hand.
“What have you done for food?” asked Rory. “You don’t look like you’ve been starving yourself.”
“Ah … well … that is one area I was going to have to negotiate with the world record authorities …”
“Why?” asked Rory. “Aren’t you supposed to eat if you are trying to get the ‘hiding for the longest time’ record?”
“No … you see … I have had a little help,” said Stagg looking slightly embarrassed.
“Some help?” said Rory. “You mean someone else knows that Lachlan Stagg is still alive?”
Rory had a fleeting thought that his Grandad had kept yet another secret from him, but dismissed it. Not even the old man could pull that one off. Then he realized. Food. Joint world records for pancake making.
“Ramsay Sandilands,” he said.
“He has kept me rather too well fed, I think,” said Stagg patting his tummy. “I’ve tried to work it off on the unicycle but I’ve never been able to go very far unfortunately.”
“Ramsay did sound quite sure that there would be an end to the hotel’s troubles,” said Rory remembering their conversation in the kitchen.
“This has been the other reason for me staying here, you see,” said Stagg. “Ramsay thought that this episode might put the hotel on the map. He said to me that the hotel needed a big story. A positive story. People might want to come to the place where a world record was set. They might even want to see, or stay in Corridor Five where someone remained hidden for so long. I was happy to help. I think this place is fascinating. Always have done since I wrote the book about it. In the long term I thought this might help Granville Grimm out, even though he is in the dark about it all at the moment.”
Having recently tried to crack the impossible problem of finding a way to sell the idea of staying in the hotel, Rory could see some logic in their madcap scheme, but he also knew that a solution was now needed quicker than Ramsay Sandilands’ plan could provide.
“You may not know, but things have moved on a bit down in the town,” said Rory. “I’m afraid it’s going to take a bit more than a world record to get people up here. You ought to see this.” He rummaged in his backpack and handed over his copy of The Chronicle with its “HOTEL MUST CLOSE NOW” headline to Lachlan Stagg. Reaching into the breast pocket of his tweed jacket, Stagg pulled out a pair of half-moon glasses to read. As he did so his eyes misted over and his brow furrowed. He cleared his throat in an awkward manner. “Oh dear. This is not good.”
“Half the town has these posters up,” said Rory.
“Dear me, dear me,” said Stagg. “Is this really where things have got to? This is not right. Not right at all.”
He flicked through the paper. Rory knew its contents inside out and knew they didn’t get any better.
“I fear our efforts have not helped after all,” said Stagg. “I knew this would come to an end at some point … and now seems to be the time.” He folded the paper and handed it back to Rory. “Thank you for coming today. I described it as an inconvenience upstairs but it is far from it. You were very brave and it was the right thing to do. I think I should make some immediate arrangements to reappear!”
“That will certainly rock the boat of Derek Goodman’s campaign,” said Rory. He was thoughtful for a moment and then realized that this was the answer. He had known that something or someone was needed to promote the idea of the Halfway House. Lachlan Stagg was just the man.
“This could just be perfect … yes, yes, yes … you would be perfect!” exclaimed Rory. “This is just what we need! If you can tell people that the hotel isn’t what they think it is, then that will work! They’ll trust you!”
“I’m not sure about that after this little escapade,” said Stagg, returning his glasses to his pocket.
“But they love you,” said Rory. “There’s a big statue to you in the middle of the town!”
“Yes, Ramsay told me that. But now they’re going to find out that I’ve not exactly been honest with them,” said Stagg. “I think I may have turned myself from the good guy into the bad guy. I suspect that rather changes the way they view my opinion.”
“I see your point,” said Rory, thinking it through. “But I think that it’s a gamble that we’ll just have to take. You’re the best chance we have.”
“Well then. I must pack my bag and come downhill to stand up and be counted. One can’t go on living a lie for ever.”
“Well you can get some practice in coming clean here before you start down in the town,” said Rory.
“I’m sorry, dear boy?” said Lachlan Stagg looking a bit vague.
“Well,” said Rory, “I think you owe Granville Grimm an explanation don’t you?”
“Yes, yes of course. You are quite right, quite right,” said Stagg fingering his brow and looking slightly troubled. “I suppose I do rather have some apologising to do to my landlord of the last few years.”
Rory looked at his watch and gulped. He was supposed to be in a meeting with Granville Grimm in about thirty seconds. It was a sign of how things had changed that he didn’t expect to be decapitated for turning up late. Still, arriving with a man who had remained hidden in the building for years, and who had helped to keep people away from it, might just put serious bodily harm back on the agenda. Who knew what Granville Grimm might do when faced with the truth about Lachlan Stagg?
26. The hit squad
At least Rory had some company. Harvey Finkleman was there. Having survived his afternoon tea experience he said he couldn’t wait to hear Rory pitch the idea of the Halfway House. Before Granville Grimm arrived for the meeting, Rory only had time to whisper to him that there had been a rather major development since they had arrived in the hotel. It took less than ten minutes to describe the idea of the Halfway House to Granville Grimm, who nodded thoughtfully throughout and commented that the pavilion had always been a favourite place of his.
Rory then took the bull by the horns and started the explanation about what had been going on in Corridor Five, highlighting that it had happened with the hotel’s long-term interests at heart. He then introduced a rather embarrassed looking Lachlan Stagg who had been waiting outside in the hall like a naughty schoolboy in line to see the headmaster. The tweed-suited eccentric took over with a very long, very eloquent and very sincere apology. Finkleman shook his head slowly. “Well I’ll be …” he said. “That is one heck of a story.”
Granville Grimm was seated in his customary position at the far end of the long table considering every word with an impassive expression. As Stagg finished, there was a long pause. Rory looked fearfully at the hulking hotel owner. He appeared to have been frozen by the news he had just been told. What was of most concern was that Granville Grimm had closed his eyes and his breathing seemed to be picking up pace. Rory felt beads of sweat begin to form. As he watched, Grimm’s forehead knitted into a deep frown and his body began to twitch with his shoulders jerking up and down. Rory decided in a stomach-lurching instant that he was in deep trouble. Granville Grimm raised a bony finger and pointed. Rory flinched, knowing now for sure there really was evil at the heart of this man. He braced himself for a puff of smoke and a curse on him and Lachlan Stagg for the rest of their lives. Expecting the spell to strike at any moment he shut his eyes tight.
Nothing happened. Rory risked a peek towards Granville Grimm. The man was now shaking his head very slowly and then as if in some weird rhythm his shoulders began moving in time too. The speed picked up, faster and faster until his whole frame was juddering. Wide-eyed, Rory continued to watch and then the noise began. A slow, huffing, wheezing noise at first as if Granville Grimm was struggling for air and then,
“WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Granville Grimm’s head snapped back, his mouth gaping open and his whole body shuddering as he roared with laughter. The sound went on and on and on. Every ten seconds his head would slump to his chest just long enough to suck in a huge gulp of air and then he was off again.
“WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
After the fifth time, Rory’s fear had long since dissolved and he was beginning to chuckle himself at the sight of the supposedly sinister hotel owner so uncontrollably consumed by laughter that tears were pouring down his face.
Rory looked to one side to see Lachlan Stagg’s shoulders beginning to quiver too. He still looked a bit embarrassed to be at the root of this outburst, but equally he couldn’t help laughing at the helpless man at the other end of the table. As the noise continued, Rory became aware of the other people in the room.
Mr Finkleman was chuckling deeply. The effect of his shoulders and big belly quivering in accompaniment to his laughter made him seem even rounder. Standing to one side of the door, Grog shuffled his feet nervously as if not quite sure what to do next, but within another minute, he too began to be taken over by the roaring laughter of his master, his mouth splitting back and up his cheeks to form a crocodile smile and the start of a snickering laugh, interspersed with a cough or two. There was a movement off to Rory’s left side. It was Grimson.
Never one to let things faze him too much, Grimson was silent amidst the cacophony of laughter, but even he sported a huge broad grin as he watched his father in convulsions at the far end of the table. It seemed as though they were witnessing years of weariness and sad news falling away from the hotel owner, like he was shedding layers of unwanted skin.
Rory felt that, finally, he understood Granville Grimm. Lachlan Stagg had effectively helped to put the brakes on any potential business success and had unwittingly contributed to the hotel owner’s troubles. Yet when Grimm eventually regained his composure, he simply sat back, his face now lighter and more animated than Rory had seen before, and was thoroughly decent about the whole thing.
“There have been many factors at play here and you, Lachlan, are only one of them. I appreciate that in the long term you had my interests at heart, and in some strange way you have helped to bring us to this point. It would seem that you may now be perfectly positioned to help us move on. I do not accept your apology … because I do not believe you have one to give.”
With Granville Grimm firmly on side, Rory decided that he had the perfect moment to reveal the full extent of his proposal. Describing the campaign being waged by Derek Goodman, Rory suggested that it could be thwarted by attempting to transform the pavilion and open The Halfway House in seven days.
Nobody spoke as worried glances were exchanged at the short timescale.
“Well, as you know, I love a challenge,” said Lachlan Stagg, breaking the silence. “I would regard it as an honour and a duty to lead this task. Presumably you need joinery and glazing skills at the very least. They are two of the qualifications I have achieved in the past, and I’d be delighted to put them to good use.”
“Gentlemen, I wonder if I, too, can offer my services?” It was Finkleman who spoke. “These are skills that I also have, and I think a working holiday is just what I need at the moment. I’ll need to make a few calls to get out of some meetings, but if you’ll have me I shall be glad to join you for this challenge.”
As Grog stepped forward, Rory remembered Grimson’s opinion of the man being an asset in a crisis. He put any memories of snakes and toilets firmly from his mind and watched the butler sign up for whatever was required. Next, a rather sheepish Ramsay Sandilands stepped through the door to offer his services while Grimson raised a hand at the back of the room saying “Count me in.” Finally, Granville Grimm reminded everyone that Donald Stobo could bring crucial practical skills to the project as well.
And so the hit squad was complete. All they had to do now was transform the old pavilion and create “The Halfway House” in a week.
It’s Halfway. Aberfintry’s New Café
Wording from promotional flier for
The Halfway House
27. Deadline approaching
“Lachlan Stagg’s alive?” squealed Bonnie in disbelief.
“That old rascal,” said Grandad with a chuckle. “He always did do things his own way.”
Back in Aberfintry, Rory was finding that he had even more explaining to do than after his previous visits. They all agreed that the resurrected local celebrity was an ace up their sleeve in the fight to finally present some facts about Hotel Grimm. However, Bonnie and Gandad moved from surprise to deep apprehension as Rory revealed the launch plans for The Halfway House.
“In seven days!” said Bonnie. “I thought you said the place was a wreck.”
“That’s ambitious to say the least, son,” remarked Grandad.
“Well there is multi-world-record breaker in charge,” said Rory trying to convince himself as well as the others, but he could tell that they had concerns that the rest of the team was a motley crew comprising a cable car mechanic, an overweight office executive, a decrepit butler and a reclusive father and son.
Rory said that their job down in Aberfintry was to work on the advertising for The Halfway House and to produce a rival campaign with a grand opening that would deliberately clash with Saturday’s demonstration. Bonnie took notes as Rory and Grandad shouted ideas, but although they began enthusiastically, they couldn’t help but dwell on the fact that the campaign for closure was gathering speed. Its advantage wasn’t just the fact that the local newspaper was churning out campaign reminders, but the fact that the people who were involved had loud mouths and were having no problem having their message heard. They also had a sympathetic audience in Aberfintry’s residents, who had quite simply had enough of Hotel Grimm.
Rory got Grimson to come up with ideas for a flier for the Halfway House and he did an amazing job, producing a stylish, professional and very unusual design. Bonnie suggested putting the fliers under the windscreen wipers of every car in town, enlisting Grimson and Stobo to do the deed. The pair of them leafleted the whole of Aberfintry under cover of darkness one night and the town’s residents awoke to find details of an alternative way of spending their forthcoming Saturday morning.
If Rory’s campaign had anything in its favour, it was the air of mystery. The flier presented simple facts; a new café would open on Saturday at a mystery location to be revealed on the day; the venue would be announced at 11:15am by a local celebrity who would appear at the demonstration; potential customers could walk to the venue or an unusual kind of lift would be offered to those requiring transport. It certainly got people talking.
“Do you think Zizz Boy is the local celebrity? Surely even he wouldn’t stoop to calling himself that?”
“What about Bella Valentine? She likes her cakes. She’d be the perfect person to declare a café open.”
“It’s a bit strange that we don’t know where it’s going to be.”
“What’s the unusual transport do you think? A ferryboat across the River Fintry?”
Grimson’s artwork also caused a stir. Mr Boswall, the art teacher, even mentioned it in class. “I want you all to take note of this design. It’s simple, yet striking, and whoever did it has real talent. I, for one, am very interested in finding out more about this café and particularly the artist they have commissioned.
Rory scribbled a quick note to let Grimson Grimm know that he might want to consider staging his first ever exhibition at The Halfway House. Sprinting to the cable car station, he dropped the envelop
e off with Stobo.
“Could you get this up to Grimson, please?” he said handing it over.
“Aye,” said the wee man taking the letter without a second glance. Rory was about to go when he thought better of it and turned back.
“How’s it going up there?” he asked. “How’s the pavilion looking?”
“It’s a wreck,” said Stobo. Rory’s face fell in disappointment. “But come the weekend it’ll be fine,” he added with a hint of a smile.
Starting to leave, and relieved that Stobo seemed confident in his own abrupt way, Rory stopped as the mechanic called after him.
“Do you think anyone will come?”
“I just don’t know what’s going to happen,” said Rory. “People are talking about it and they’re all curious and want to know more. The big question is how will they react when they discover where it is and who’s involved?”
Rory tried to blank from his mind the fact that if school was the gauge of local feeling then there wouldn’t be any passengers for the cable car on Saturday, just a shouting mob demanding closure.
Halfway through the week, Rory met Grimson at Stobo’s workshop. He reported good progress. His father had produced old photos of the pavilion to work from and Lachlan Stagg had used his architectural skills to produce designs. Stagg had also shown that there was still something left of the stamina and determination that had won him six consecutive Scrab Hill Races all those years ago. “He works around the clock,” said Grimson, “and he whizzes around the place on a unicycle. You have to see it to believe it!”
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