Grimm (17 page)

Saturday dawned bright and clear and Rory woke earlier than usual. Much earlier than usual. His stomach felt like it had tied itself in a complicated knot during the night and, once he was awake, there was no way he was going back to sleep. He knew that he had done everything that was in his power and could only hope that on Scrab Hill the final plans were coming together before the official opening of the café. Part of him couldn’t help wondering if it was really worth any last-minute rush since the likelihood was that no one would go up there anyway.

As he dressed he found himself hoping that somehow the population of Aberfintry would wake up open-minded and with a change of heart, but he soon dismissed the idea as fantasy and slumped into a pessimistic mood all over again. He went through the motions of making breakfast but ended up just toying with the cereal in his bowl and nibbling at the edge of a slice of toast.

His Dad joined him in the kitchen as he sat there. “Got a lesson?” asked Rory.

“Yep. Someone else starting out. Their first lesson,” said his Dad. “I can hardly wait to show them the usual routes. Round and round the town at a jerky ten miles an hour.” He didn’t sounded too cheerful about the prospect but Rory was in no mood to try to brighten up his day. Mr McKenna then opened the morning’s paper to read as he crunched his toast loudly, so the conversation was over.

Momo breezed into the kitchen wearing a maroon kimono covered in silver and gold dragons and birds. “Good morning! It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it!” she breathed. “My, you two make a fine pair. I feel the rain clouds are gathering already with your faces tripping you up!” Rory and his Dad both mumbled their own responses at the same time.

“Rory, I am very excited about The Halfway House,” said Momo as
she filled the kettle. “I, for one, shall be up there this morning.” Rory nodded and tried to block from his mind the thought that this fact might put others off from coming.

His Dad looked up momentarily from the paper. “I’ve got an eleven o’clock lesson but um … all the best,” he said.

The clock seemed to tick around more and more slowly and the knot in Rory’s stomach twisted tighter and tighter as the morning went on. Eventually, he couldn’t stand kicking around the house any longer, and feeling ill at the prospect, he set off for Lachlan Stagg’s statue to see just what kind of response the demonstration had managed to trigger.

He met Bonnie as arranged at the end of Boglehole Road, becoming gradually aware of more and more people walking in the same direction. Rory kept his head down and he and Bonnie remained in silence, both convinced that some of the crowd were throwing hostile glances towards them. Passing number 47, Rory noticed that his Grandad’s curtains were still shut. He thought about looking in to the house, but decided to leave it until later when they could report back on how badly things had gone.

As they got further into town the crowd grew in number, and people of every age emerged from each side street he passed. There were boys, girls, men, women, young people, older people and whole families complete with toddlers in pushchairs. Some were carrying placards with slogans like “
CLOSE YOUR DOORS FOR GOOD,” “GRIMM MUST GO” OR “TIME UP”
Rory noticed some familiar faces in the crowd; Mrs Trinder-Kerr, Marnie di Angelo with her parents and two brothers and Mr Boswall, the art teacher.

Momo might have thought that “Half Measures” could be a movement, but Rory felt he was walking along as part of a group of people who were all united in one “full” measure. This was without a doubt an exceptional day in the life of Aberfintry and rounding the last corner to the library he saw an enormous gathering around the statue. Malky Mackay stood nearby like a crane, keeping a watchful eye over the growing crowd.

“I think we might just be a teensy weensy bit outnumbered,” said Bonnie.

“This is awful. I knew I should have stayed at home today,” said Rory. He reached for his phone and texted Grandad. “Bad start. Hundreds here.”

The crowd had clustered around a podium on which Derek Goodman was standing, ready to speak into a microphone. Above him the statue of Lachlan Stagg was poised, as ever, for action. Even though Rory knew that the real Stagg would shortly make an appearance, the weight of numbers that had gathered made him fear for the outcome of the morning. As Rory’s watch reached 11am, Goodman began to speak.

“Good morning, people of Aberfintry,” he said. “And this
is
a good morning as we gather here together for a common purpose.” As Goodman continued, it sounded to Rory horribly like so many
Chronicle
articles he had read in recent weeks.

“I think we are all agreed that something must be done,” said Goodman. “I call on the hotel to close its doors for good, and for Granville Grimm to leave our community. His establishment has brought pain and shame to us all and we want it no more. Our town should thrive but as long as Scrab Hill is topped by that monstrosity it never will.”

Goodman even introduced Bella Valentine to add her voice to the proceedings. She heaved herself on to the podium to declare that it was time to banish everything evil that lurked within the walls of Hotel Grimm. Goodman went on to thank people for signing the petition, highlighting that they had almost gathered every signature in the town. Rory could have sworn that the editor cast a look in his direction as he stated this.

“The next step today is to march to the cable car station,” announced Goodman. “I know that some of you rightly fear that place, but let us be assured of the safety and strength in our numbers. We will deliver the petition there and demand that it is taken up to the hotel. From there our campaign will go through every council, court and authority connected with public safety in the country to ensure that they know that the town has spoken and demands action. We will do our utmost to make sure the message is heard and that we see an end to Hotel
Grimm. I thank you for your support. Now let us march together.”

A cheer went up from the crowd as Bonnie nudged Rory. “Come on. If we’re going to do something it has to be now.”

Rory wanted to melt away. How could he speak up against this? His mouth went dry and his heart pounded, but he knew it had to be now.

“Hey, there’s the Zizz Boy!” Gracie Goodman had spotted him and seemed to sense his discomfort. “Are you the local celebrity? Where’s this café then?”

“It’s nearly quarter past eleven,” another voice shouted.

“Perfect time for a latte.”

“Hot chocolate for me.”

There were chuckles from some of the onlookers and people began nudging each other to point out that Rory had started pushing his way through the crowd.

“Come on, Rory … spill the beans. Where is it? Does it just sell Zizz?”

“Let him speak.”

“Yeah it should be a laugh.”

“His family are always making an exhibition of themselves!”

“Hey, Goodman. Let the lad have a say before we go on the march.”

As Rory reached the front, Derek Goodman gave him a furious look for distracting the demonstration, but then he seemed to think better of it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said into the microphone. “Other people appear to have plans to announce something else today. In the interests of giving everyone a fair hearing
The Chronicle
would like to extend a welcome to the town’s one and only Rory McKenna to say a few words.”

Goodman stood to one side, gesturing him to step up to the podium, fully expecting public ridicule to be the outcome. Rory glanced at his watch. His arrangement with Lachlan Stagg was that he would arrive at 11:20am. It was now 11:17am. The few steps to the microphone seemed like an enormous task and then his Grandad’s words came into his head. “It takes a strong spirit, a brave heart and a clear voice.”

He walked on to the podium and turned to look out over a sea of now silent faces. He was reminded of the marketing awards ceremony where he stood looking over a giant room full of people, lapping up applause for something he hadn’t done.

Some of the crowd were already turning to each other and whispering. He could see from the intense look in Bonnie’s eyes that she was urging him on to speak. Derek Goodman and Bella Valentine were standing to one side talking quietly to each other and gesturing that it was nearly time to begin the march.

Looking beyond the crowd in the distance Rory saw the tufts of white hair of Lachlan Stagg and felt a new surge of optimism. He raised his voice. “Today, marks a new day for Hotel Grimm, and you are all invited. Up on the ledge on Scrab Hill a new café has just opened called The Halfway House. If you go there you will see this town in a whole
new
way. You can get to it by the cable car.”

“Get off!”

“You must be joking!”

“Take the microphone off him!”

Rory raised his voice as loud as he could. “To officially open the café today, can I please introduce our mystery celebrity …” Rory pointed over people’s heads and with that introduction, Lachlan Stagg reached the back of the crowd. It began to part, people falling backwards and pulling each other out of the way to let him through. There were gasps from many.

“It’s him.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It must be him. Look at his ear.”

“But he’s dead!”

“This town is getting way too creepy for me.”

“Hasn’t he put on weight since that statue was made?”

Stagg came right to the front and stepped on to the podium as Rory stood to one side. He faced the people of Aberfintry who, after buzzing at his arrival, had fallen silent. Rory looked over and saw that Derek Goodman was ashen-faced as Stagg began to speak.

“My name is Lachlan Stagg and I have some thanks and some
apologies to make. Firstly, I would like to thank you, the townspeople of Aberfintry, for continuing to think of me after my … departure, to the extent of building this magnificent statue.” He gestured to his rather slimmer twin, cast in bronze above him. “I would never have believed that I was held in this type of regard and I am deeply honoured. Secondly, I would also like to apologize to you. In my efforts to amass my collection of records, I have deceived you all. I did it with the best of intentions. I believed that I could gather the last of my records, including the one for the longest disappearance, and put Hotel Grimm on the map for a good, positive reason, to try to make up for years of difficult times that they had experienced. Ladies and gentlemen, I can tell you that I have been living at Hotel Grimm all these years and I have survived … not because I am exceptional in any way, but because there is
nothing
to fear at Hotel Grimm.”

“The place has had more than its fair share of misfortune. In fact, I am sure it could gain its own record for that alone. Latterly, my actions have contributed to their problems, notably
my
attempts to remain hidden led to the suggestion that a beast lived within the hotel walls. There is no beast. Only an eccentric man whose efforts to stay hidden went a little too far.”

Rory noticed that in contrast to Derek Goodman’s white face, Bella Valentine had gone a shade between bright pink and purple. Stagg continued.

“I am truly sorry. Today, I will go further than just saying that there is nothing to fear on Scrab Hill. I believe that in Hotel Grimm we actually have an example of how to treat one other. For years, Granville Grimm has dealt with the pain of losing his beloved wife, Gwendolen, and of seeing his hotel go virtually out of business. This has presented him with an extremely difficult time. Throughout this period, however, he has not received an ounce of sympathy from this town. Not an ounce! In fact, following a series of unfortunate accidents, none of which had any link to his family, or to any wrong-doing or neglect, he was turned into some kind of monster in people’s eyes and made an outcast. How has he responded? He has not reacted angrily. Then, only last week when I revealed my own deception that
had, in part, contributed to the downfall of his business, he displayed a wealth of warmth and forgiveness. He is a good and fair man and I commend to you Aberfintry’s new café, The Halfway House. It is a remarkable place, it will put the town on the map and it is open….now! Please join me on Aberfintry’s very own unique cable car in a journey up Scrab Hill to see it for yourselves.”

Rory looked around the faces in the crowd. This had been a mob set on action. Today was the day when they had to stand up and be counted and they were all here. Today was the day that things were to change in their town. As he looked at them, most of them now seemed to be in a state of shock. Some people were quietly lowering the placards they had brought and looking embarrassed about where to put them. Rory saw Malky Mackay with his arms folded giving a slow satisfied nod. He saw Deirdre Dunbar’s eyes flitting over to her boss and back again to Lachlan Stagg. He saw Max Fletcher holding what looked like a sack full of the latest edition of
The Chronicle
that he wanted to quietly lose somewhere.

No face had a more confused mix of emotions than Derek Goodman’s. His victorious determination of a few minutes before had turned into utter disbelief. Lachlan Stagg who the paper had held up as the town’s dead hero and symbol of all that was right, was now alive and proclaiming Hotel Grimm as an example for the town to follow.

Rory looked across at Bonnie in the crowd. She raised her clenched fists and gave a silent victory cheer and then much to Rory’s surprise she shouted out to the crowd, puncturing the silence left after Lachlan Stagg’s epic speech.

“I’ll join you, Mr Stagg. I fancy a hot chocolate and I’ve always wanted to go in that cable car.” Rory grinned at her. Her chair buzzed into life but before she could leave another voice from the back of the crowd shouted.

“Hold on there. Don’t go without me!” There was a tapping noise. “I want to see this for myself. Where’s Rory?”

The crowd parted as Rory’s Grandad worked his way unsteadily through the throng of people. He was leaning on Momo’s arm and
in his other hand he held his white stick. Unused to using it he was clipping people’s ankles with it as the pair pushed their way through. Aware that the large crowd were focusing their attention on him, Rory’s Grandad turned to face them.