Aisling's Summer Diary

Chapter 21 | The Pact (Part II)

Things have gone from bad to worse here at the Shark’s Tooth Hotel.  Siobhan’s on the rampage (and the flyer hooligan’s still at large), Ali’s heartbroken (Fiona’s stonewalling him), and Ciaran’s been acting really strange lately.  As for me, I’m flat-out trying to keep everyone happy—especially Siobhan and the chef! 

 

Friday 9 June

 

1 p.m.

Ciaran has been scarce for the past couple of days, so we hadn’t had the chance to update him on our failed advertising campaign (in Siobhan’s words “the ‘mystery’ poster vandal”).  She called an emergency board meeting, and once we were all seated in the great hall, she dumped an armload of rumpled flyers onto the table.  “Guess THAT’S why no one showed up to the party,” Ciaran sighed.  “Every last one of our posters was torn down,” Siobhan said, heart-sore, “and I’m willing to bet the one’s in front of Celia’s hotel were the first to go.”  

I was just about to put my two cents in when there was a thunderous BANG at the door.  Then a chorus of squealing chipmunk voices filled the reception hall: “I WANT to be Batman!”—“No I wanna be Batman!!!”  “Looks like we have company,” I groaned as a clatter of heels rang down the corridor.  “Come HERE, I said!!!” a woman screeched.  There was a hollow crash from the stair well, and then one of the kids started wailing.  “I’ll go see what they want.” Siobhan said.  Ciaran grabbed her by the wrist.  “It can wait,” he said.  “Let’s carry on with the meeting.”  

Siobhan nodded.  “Right.  We have to do something about this, and fast!  How are we going to win the bet if no one knows we’re here?  It’s out and out sabotage—and you know Celia’s behind it!”  Maybe she was.  She had good reason.  But I didn’t think she’d stoop so low.  Siobhan says that’s just because of Slater—he’s brainwashed me or something—but it’s not.  Well, not entirely.  I asked Ciaran what he thought.  If anyone knows Celia, it’s him, right?  And he agreed with me.  She’s a no-nonsense businesswoman, but she’s no saboteur.  “Anyway,” Ciaran said, “this whole mess with the posters, the party falling through—maybe it’s for the best.”  

Sorry, WHAT?!  

Just then, Batmans’ parents barged into the room.  “We’re after a room,” the father said, the boys clinging to his legs and swatting at one another.  “Shut UP!” the mother snarled at them.  Ciaran escorted them back into the hall and told them we were in the middle of a very important conference—it’d be a minute.  “We wanna go to the beach NOWWW!” the kids howled.  “We can’t go now.  The man has something more important than his guests,” the mother hissed.  Ciaran very gently closed the door in her face. 

And then he dropped the biggest bombshell ever!  The man from the bank had been by, and there’d been an offer made on the hotel.  If Ciaran sold now, he’d have enough to settle all of his debts and still make a tidy profit.  But did he WANT to sell?!  After everything we’d been through?  Siobhan stood there gaping.  “We just got this place sorted,” she said.  “And you’ve done an amazing job!” Ciaran said, “Think of the experience you’ve gained.  If we sell now, we all get something out of it.” 

Hold up—what would I get out of it? I thought.  If Ciaran sold the hotel now, I’d never have the chance to really test myself in the kitchen!  And after all the hard work I’d put in, there was no way I was going home now.  I decided to make a stand!  “We can’t sell up now!  We just had one setback.  Siobhan, you said if we were going to win this thing, we had to do our best.  Well I haven’t yet!”  

“Me neither!” Ali chimed in.  Siobhan looked at us both, her eyes brightening.  “They’re right, uncle Ciaran!  We can all do better!  Better adverts, better networking, better everything!”  Ciaran shook his head, “I don’t know, Siobhan.  It’s a big risk.  And the buyer’s not going to wait around.”  “But we’ve already taken a big risk!  Now we’ve got to see it through!” she said.    

Outside, the kids were stomping up and down the stairs chanting, “Ice cream, ice cream!!!”  “I wanted to go to Ibiza, but NOOOO!” their mother whined.  The door flung open, and their father poked his head in.  “We need a room.  Now!”  Ciaran smiled serenely.  “Sorry, but we’re all booked up.  Have you tried the hotel next door?  Great place.  Do you do yoga?”  He ushered them out the front door.  

“Way to go, Ciaran!” I laughed.  But wait, they were guests!  We probably should’ve stuck it out with them.  Siobhan watched them go, unbelieving, “We’re taking bookings for the competition now?” she asked.  “Celia can have them.  They were trouble!” Ciaran said.  “Anyway, we’ve got lots of work to do.” 

“Does this mean you’re not giving up?” Siobhan squealed with excitement.  “Not a chance,” Ciaran said and gathered us into a huddle.  He proposed we go BIG, put everything on the line and launch a national ad campaign!  I rolled my eyes—how were we supposed to afford THAT?!  

Ciaran was way ahead of me.  He said he had a few favors he could call in from his friends at the Independent and the Examiner.  Before we knew it, the phones would be ringing off the hook!  “We’re going to put this place on the map!” Ciaran said.  “Are ya with me?”  He put a hand out, and one after the other we joined in.  We’re in this together—no matter what happens.  No way were we going to give up on our dreams or each other! 

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