Page 55 of Christmas at Sturcombe Bay
“Can I borrow the keys to the annexe?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What on earth do you want them for?”
“I’m having a fit of nostalgia.” He wasn’t ready yet to explain what was on his mind. “I was just remembering how we used to run wild in there, me and Liam and Tom, playing hide-and-seek and cricket.”
“Collecting spiders to bring home and put in my bed.”
“I never did that!” he protested.
“Did too. Ask Cassie.”
“Keys? Pretty please?”
“Oh, all right,” she conceded. “Excuse me, Marcus.”
He followed her as she led the way over to her office behind the reception desk. The keys were on a long chain hanging on the wall, and she hooked them down and handed them to him.
“Just tell me one thing. You’re not planning to lure Jess down there and have your wicked way with her, are you?”
“Of course not! You have a very dirty mind.”
“No, I’ve been your sister for a long time.”
“Well, for your information, I absolutely wouldn’t dream of it. Down there with all the dust and spiders? Give me a break.”
“And don’t fall in the swimming pool.”
“I thought it didn’t have any water in it?”
“It doesn’t. That’s why I don’t want you falling in it. Drowning’s clean, but smashing yourself on the bottom at the deep end would make an awful mess.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Ah, you’re so considerate.”
“It’s not you I’m thinking about. It’s my cleaning staff who’d have to mop up all the blood.”
He laughed as he strolled away, jangling the keys.
The annexe was part of the extension which was built onto the side of the hotel in the First World War to provide a couple of extra wards for the soldiers. Later on, the lower floor had been excavated to build an indoor swimming pool for the tuberculosis patients.
There were two locks and it took him a while to find the right keys, but at last he got the door open and switched on the lights. Only three of the bare bulbs swinging from the ceiling wereworking, lighting a bleak, echoing space lined with cold white tiles, a lot of them cracked and dulled with age.
The pool itself was twenty-five metres long — a good size. Two of the walls were glass which would give great views of the gardens and the bay, but they’d long ago been boarded up.
He took out his phone and began taking photos as he strolled round the perimeter, visualising how it could look with those windows opened up again, softer lighting, aqua-blue tiles lining the pool with maybe darker blue around the edge.
The changing rooms were in a pretty poor state, and he didn’t care to breath the air in the toilets for too long. They could all be knocked down to provide a wider lounging area beside the pool, a small bar for drinks.
Another door to one side opened into a long empty room, thick with the cobwebs and dust of decades. A couple of dismembered bits of hospital-style iron bedsteads lay around on the floor, and a broken table leaned drunkenly against the wall.
But it was a big enough space to provide new changing rooms. There could be creamy marbled floor tiles in here, with lilac walls in the women’s and teal blue in the men’s, and a couple of single cubicles for those who would prefer them.
There would be showers and lockers, and a baby changing area. And a sauna and jacuzzi.
He took more photographs, estimating the size and dictating his thoughts into his phone. Then he left, locking the door and climbing the stairs to the upper floor.
He could see a well-equipped gym in here, a luxury massage room and spa, maybe a hair salon. Pale wooden floors, more soft lighting, lots of lush green plants in copper pots.
He wasn’t ready to share his thoughts with anyone else yet — not even Lisa. He didn’t want to raise hopes which might all too likely be dashed. There was a lot to look into, and a lot would depend on what price the owners would be asking for the place.Then he’d need to cost out the renovations, and set that against the possible income.
