Room 13 part 2

Pictures from Google
Part 1

Previously:
I’m going to tell you one story. The story that involved me, just at the start of my career at the hotel.

In times of recession, when people don’t take vacations or go sight-seeing as much, the hotel has been open for people a little down on their luck. There are foundations that will help such people with temporary accommodation until they get ‘back on their feet’ and the owners of the hotel would rather have rooms occupied at a fraction of the usual rate than have them stand empty. One such time meant that Sylvia and her two children came to stay.

The only room we had at that time was the one on the third floor – 3C. At that time, it was still room 13, but Sylvia was grateful for the chance to have clean sheets for her and the children to sleep on.

No one asked her circumstances, it was none of our business.

I was at the desk when Sylvia came down on her first evening. The manager, Mr Michaels was with me and she asked if she could speak with him in private.

They went to his office and he returned a few minutes later.

None of my business, I didn’t ask.

Sylvia went back to her room with a weary smile on her face.

“Poor woman, she wants to do some work in exchange for food,” Mr Michaels said.

I lifted my chin in a single nod and remained silent.

“The only thing we have is on the graveyard shift this evening,” he said.

I tidied the checking-in cards in my hands. “Yes, but she has two children, she can’t leave them alone, surely?”

“That’s what I said, but she insisted they sleep soundly and won’t be any trouble.”

I stacked the cards under the desk. “They could be bedded down in your office, so they’re close enough to keep an eye on.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll let her know.”

Off he went to the third floor to tell her the good news.

Graveyard shift starts at 11:30 and lasts until 06:30.

Despite Mr Michaels assuring Sylvia her children could sleep in his office, she came down without them. “They’re asleep and quite safe.”

I showed her the ropes and because her offer meant I could skip the shift and be available for the morning work, I left her a sandwich, which would come out of my food allocation for the week.

She protested and tried to tell me she wasn’t really all that hungry, but in the middle of her protests, her stomach growled so loud, it drowned out her words. I looked at her, she blushed with embarrassment and I went to fetch her a glass of milk to go with the sandwich.

“One last thing,” I said as she tucked-in to her sandwich. “The main door will be locked and bolted. Don’t open it. If anyone comes, tell them you have to call the night-manager and come to the desk and call me on the internal system. That’s the only number you need to know. Any problems at all, ring me, no one else. OK?”

She nodded and assured me she’d got it and understood. I went off for a welcome and unexpected night’s sleep rather than the dreaded graveyard shift.

I slept like a top, off to dreamland as soon as my head hit the pillow. I sleep so much better in the noisy hotel than I ever did in the silent orphanage – isn’t that strange?

At a little after three a.m. I woke up with a deep-seated feeling of dread. I hadn’t told Sylvia about the strange, 3 a.m. occurrences, I didn’t want to alarm her or put her off working the shift. After all, she might not have been attuned to the phenomena. No point in making her edgy if there was a chance she wouldn’t see anything.

I looked at the phone on my bedside table. I expected it to ring, yet when it did, I had worked myself up so much that I almost leaped out of my skin.

I grabbed the phone before it stopped ringing. “Hello?”

Sylvia’s voice sounded a long way from the phone, as though she held it away from her face. “Benjamin, please come down. There’s been a problem.”

I got out of bed and slipped on my trousers even as I listened to her. “I’m on my way, Sylvia. Don’t worry.”

When I arrived in Reception, Silvia was nowhere to be seen. Nothing out of place, nothing missing, just Sylvia not there.

Part 3

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