26 November 2012
The waves crash against the side of the house. A lone, solitary place. With just the sea for company. As I step out the car, the house takes my breath away, it is a commanding piece of architecture. Made of Jerusalem natural stone, it almost moulds into the rock face, it is built, to be part of the sea. The wall that the waves are crashing into is the left side of the house and this wall is the highest part of the property and has a small round window set into it. The windows at the front of the house are white sash windows and are quite small in comparison to the rest of the house, but beautiful all the same.
I'm keen to go inside and begin to search for the key as instructed by the owner. The sea wind is bitter and biting my face as I search for the key in haste.
I had been looking for a quiet place to retreat to for a couple of months as my job as a lawyer is demanding and stressful at times. I needed to recharge my batteries and wanted to do it alone and somewhere secluded. When I stumbled across the advert for Sea Stone House, I was drawn to it. The more I read about it the more I wanted to go there. The ad read.....
'Charming and contemporary holiday home on the Isle of Berneray in the Hebrides, secluded white sand beaches and turquoise sea, nature, peace and tranquility will be your only company'
The idea that I would be alone, far from anyone and non contactable, sold the place to me straight away. The owner is a Mr Elphinstone, you could almost smell the wealth in the sea air. This guy had money, there is even a helipad nearby the house for gods sake.
As I step into Sea Stone, it's decadent interior almost makes me gasp. Although there is not much in terms of furniture, the house is beautiful. You step into a cosy hallway, the cream marble floor is shiny and smooth, it's warmth kiss my cold toes through my leather boots. I think to myself 'wow, underfloor heating'....my mind begins to fantasise about the elusive Mr Elphinstone , whether there is a Mrs Elphinstone? All our contact had been via email and although he was polite in his manner, he was formal and abrupt.
As I step into the lounge, again it's simple yet stunning, it has a definite masculine feel to it. There is a huge flat screen television on the red wall, at the far end of the room and beneath that there are all kinds of games consoles within an oak sideboard. In the middle of the room is a cream leather sofa, with red cushions to add a splash of colour. Behind that there is a large oak desk with an expensive lamp and a black leather pot holding pens in. On the desk there is a laminated A4 sheet that has instructions about how to use the remotes for the house, put on the fire and how to set the house alarm. There are a lot of do's and don'ts and I'm a tad overwhelmed at how modern the house is, there is a remote for EVERYTHING.
At the bottom of the sheet in capital letters is a warning.
PLEASE DON'T PRESS THE RED BUTTON, THIS IS ONLY TO BE USED FOR EMERGENCIES AS IT IS LINKED TO THE NEAREST POLICE STATION
On the right side of the room, there is a cream wall with a few pictures on. The wall has, what looks like a door only there is no handle, no buttons on it or anything, I figure that maybe it's just a contemporary piece of art or something to do with all the remote controls within the house.
I continue to nose around the room, and am dying to see the kitchen and the rest of the house, when I accidentally drop the remote, as I go to quickly grab it, I press the red button.
I start to panic and swear as I'm waiting for an alarm to sound...I wait...nothing.....then the silver panel that I thought was a piece of art slides across and that's when I realise it IS a door.
I slowly walk towards the now opened doorway. I peer inside, and the only way I can describe it is, like the reptile house at a zoo. It's dark except for these round, lit up vivariums. They are built into this long wall in front of me. I can see four or five of them, and again to the side, there's a door. Oddly at the far end and the darkest end of the room there appears to be some kind of wooden raised bed, like the kind you see in a garden centre. What on earth you could grow in this dark room, god only knows? It's very warm and damp, I find it stifling to breathe and it reminds me of the times when I used to visit the zoo with mum and dad. I hated the reptile house, it was dark, scary and always made me feel claustrophobic.
I decide to walk to the far end of the room, I ignore the odd raised bed to my left, it's too dark to see properly anyway. As I look upon the first tank, it actually takes a few seconds for me to register what is before my eyes. I want to scream but the fear chokes me, I instantly feel the bile rising in my throat and it's all I can do to prevent myself from vomiting. The tank does not contain any reptiles. All I see is a head on top of some compost.
To be continued.......
Based on a nightmare I had recently
©Kim Brown 26th November 2012
Sea Stone House • Opuss № I