Hotel Ambrose

Chapter 4: The Hotel

When we had crawled through the door and got back to our feet and brushed off our dirty knees, we looked up and saw the hotel for the first time.

It was in the country. There were fields and woods and fences for miles and miles, and far-off blue mountains, and little houses with smoke coming out of their chimneys, and a creek winding through the countryside, and cows standing out in the fields, and hay bales, and a tiny town that was all spires and domes sitting between two round hills. If you've ever seen a movie set where they paint the background, like on those old Westerns and things, then you'll know what it was like. It was only when you got up close to the walls that you realised they were paintings. I don't know how it was done, but when the sky changed colour the paintings did too, and you could see the shadows of the hills creeping across the fields as the sun went down, and the stars winking on one by one. Amazing.

Immediately in front of us stood a big gate with spikes on the top. There was wonky a sign on the gate, hanging on one screw.

HOTEL AMBROSE

VACANCY

On the other side of the gate was a fountain with a pool around it. The pool was so deep that I couldn't see the bottom.The fountain was a stone statue of a woman holding a dish - if the fountain had been going the water would have been spilling out over the edge of the dish, but it wasn't. She was wearing drapey clothes and carrying a book and looking sadly down into the pool. There was a word carved in the stone at her feet: MNEMOSYNE.

A path went around both sides of the fountain, joined, then split up again. The left-hand path led to an overgrown orchard. Bits of iron fence poked out of the tall grass, and what looked like a crooked tombstone. There was a thicket behind Ambrose, all thorns and blackberries and that kind of thing. The other path led up to the Hotel.

The Hotel was five storeys high (I counted them). As it rose it sprouted narrow towers with small, grimy windows, and there were balconies and chimneys in strange places, and a dark steeple with the shape of a bell hulking inside.

Ivy had grew around the front door. In the middle of the door was a knocker that was a bearded man's face. His eyes were closed. I didn't use the knocker: I know it sounds stupid, but I was afraid to wake the bearded man. Instead, I turned the big iron handle and pushed the door. I was expecting it to be locked, but it swung open.

A long, silent hall stretched out before us. It had thick carpet the colour of blood, and many doors opening out on each side. There was a wide curving staircase at the end, with a big dirty window at the back of it.

The first door, just inside the entrance, was propped open. Me and Sophie went in. It was an office. The first thing I saw was a board covered with hooks. There were little numbers printed above each hook.

"For the rooms," Sophie said. It was the first thing she'd said since we'd crawled through the little green door, and it startled me.

"What?"

"The keys."

"What keys?"

"Exactly," she said.

"What?"

She put her hands on her hips and looked up at the ceiling. "It's a hotel. The sign said vacancy. So where are the keys?"

"Maybe they're closed for the summer?"

"Who closes for the summer?"

"Maybe they left the keys in the doors? I don't know. Jesus, who cares?"

"It's strange, that's all."

"Okay," I said. There was no point arguing with Sophie.

I looked around the office. There was a desk with a lamp (broken), a filing cabinet (locked), a chair (on its side), and a painting. The painting was of a man with pale eyes and a big moustache. He was standing in front of the Hotel, leaning on a cane, and looking straight out. There was a signature at the bottom corner of the painting. Elinor.

All the other doors on the ground floor were locked, so we went up the stairs to the first floor. There was a light switch at the top of the staircase. I flicked it and the lights came on, one by one down the hall, buzzing a bit at first and smelling like burnt dust. At the end of the first floor hall was a door that opened out onto a balcony, and another staircase curving away up and out of sight.

The doors on the first floor were unlocked, but we didn't find any keys. The rooms smelled musty. There were three bedrooms with double beds and wardrobes and drawers in corners, and windows opening out onto the countryside. I didn't like the musty smell so I tried to open every window I came across. Some of them wouldn't open. There was a study with a desk in it, and a laundry. There was a kitchen with a fat stove, and pots and pans, and a vase of very dead flowers on the windowsill above the sink, and a big old fridge. When I switched the fridge on it worked. It was empty.

The last room we explored was a lounge. It had a fireplace, and a rug made from an animal I didn't know, and armchairs, and a big old television with rabbit's ear aerials. I switched it on, not expecting it to work, but it did – except all I could see on the screen was an empty room with a big snooker table in it. I watched it for a while but nothing happened.

"Weird show," I said to Sophie.

I switched the dial around to change the channel. There was white noise, then another room appeared – a bedroom. Nothing was happening there either. I turned the dial again. Another bedroom, then a narrow library, then a bathroom. All empty. I gave up and switched the telly off again. Me and Sophie looked at each other. I don't think she understood it either – not then at least.

"I like it," I said, meaning the whole thing – the hotel and everything.

"Hmm," Sophie said.

I don't know how it came about that we decided to live there. Some things just happen. There was no old lady with twelve dogs, and we never spoke about islands with mangoes ever again. I never felt like Crapper was my home when I was there – it was just this place where you slept and ate and washed and everything. Ambrose was different. It felt like we belonged there.