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The Guest House

by MichelleB 

Posted: 04 November 2013
Word Count: 793

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This is it, the Cranbally Guest House” I said as we pulled onto the graveled drive. “It was a result getting a room at such short notice and that old lady I spoke to this morning, seemed so polite and friendly” Steve didn’t seem particularly interested, he just looked liked he needed a beer after the long drive.
Stepping out of the car, my first impressions were that the house was welcoming and bright. We rang the doorbell a few times, there was no answer. After standing there a while, I could see Steve was getting impatient.
I stepped forward and peered through the frosted glass and felt a lump under the mat. Lifting it I was surprised to see a door key.
With slight trepidation I opened the door and called out “hello, anyone there”. There was no answer. On the desk in the hall a reservation book was open and our names were clearly written in black ink together with the room number 5. There were no other names entered in the book for today’s date “Oh well, they are expecting us, and it looks like we are the only guest” I said cheerfully, contemplating a nice quite night.
Walking through to the open plan living area, the rooms were brightly lit and the television was on low, I touched the kettle, it was still warm. There was one door off the kitchen that had a lock which looked to have been a door to private quarters. I tapped gently on the door; there was no answer “it looks like they must have just popped out” I said nonchalantly, we decided to sit down and wait a while; it was a smartly decorated room with many photos scattered around of a couple and with a child that I assumed was their daughter. I noticed the photo frames, looked kind of old fashioned and slightly out of place in this modern living room.
We sat flicking the channels on the TV, after waiting another ten minutes. We made the joint decision to go up to room 5. We were attending a party that evening and really needed to get a move on.
Hurriedly we got changed and left. “They won’t be getting a very good write up on Trip Advisor” I told Steve as we walked out the door.
We arrived back just after midnight slightly inebriated, letting ourselves in once again. The house was still lit up but no sign of the house owners, we made our way to bed, too tired to give it another thought.
Through my intoxicated drowsy sleep I could hear movements, the floorboards creaked outside our room, and I was sure at some time in the night I heard crying and a door opening and closing.
We woke up around seven, hoping the smell of bacon would start wafting up. Nothing, proceeding down the stairs I noticed the lights were still on, but there was no sign of anybody and certainly no breakfast cooking much to our annoyance.
I knocked on the door of the private quarters, still no answer. “What a way to run a business” I moaned to Steve.
There was no point in hanging around so we left leaving the key by the reservation book. On the way out, I noticed our names had been crossed out. “That’s strange, look at this; they have been back at some stage and crossed us out. I can’t wait to give them a piece of my mind”
Later on that day and once in the comfort of my own home, I set about putting pen to paper and proceeded to write my letter of complaint. When, a news report on the radio caught my attention.
“There has been further development on the missing female patient who escaped yesterday morning from the Cranbally High Security Hospital. The middle aged patient has been found hiding out in a guest house in the local vicinity”. The news report stated that “the patient had managed this hotel with her husband and daughter back in 1990; she had been convicted of murdering them whilst they slept in their beds”
I sat there mesmerized, unable to comprehend all that was being said, as the reporter went on to announce that “the present owners of the guest house who have been holidaying in Spain for the past two weeks, have now been informed of the situation”.
Finishing the report he declared “the owners of the guesthouse had been very lucky, as this patient is extremely dangerous and these events could have ended in tragedy”
Playing back in my mind the events of the past 24 hours, all I could think of was that it was Steve and I that had the lucky escape!

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