‘I think I can bring you together,’ Katie said. ‘If that’s what you want.’
Violet unfolded from her position and twirled in the air by way of an answer. Violet was moving so fast, she was just a blur and it made Katie feel sick. She closed her eyes and felt a brush of cold lips on her cheek.
‘I take it that’s a “yes, please”,’ Katie said to the empty garden.
Chapter 25
Inside the hotel, Max was polishing the bar with a cloth with more force than was strictly necessary. ‘Why is he still here?’
‘Who?’ Katie turned around and spotted Barton sitting at a table in the corner, reading a newspaper. ‘Oh. Patrick has offered him another show. Popular demand, apparently. He’s doing it on Friday night and Patrick is putting him up for free until afterwards.’
‘Can’t you stop him?’
‘Patrick? Unlikely,’ Katie said.
Max was still glaring at Barton, anger and something else across his face.
Katie reached out and put her hand on top of his. ‘I know he bothers you, but it might not be all bad. Maybe he comforts some people.’
‘With lies,’ Max said.
‘I’m not defending him.’ Katie squeezed his hand. ‘Just trying to lower your blood pressure.’
Max made a visible attempt to relax. He passed a hand over his face. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Katie said. ‘I’ll buy you a beer?’
‘I’m working,’ Max said, but he got a bottle from the fridge and popped the cap.
Katie hoisted herself onto one of the bar stools. ‘What did Barton tell you that was so awful?’
Max took a long pull on his beer and for a moment Katie thought he wasn’t going to answer her. Then he closed his eyes and said, ‘I tried to get him to take it back. I went to his room after the show and I asked him straight.’
‘And did he?’
Max gave her a bitter smile. ‘He said I needed a private session. Only two hundred quid for an hour.’
‘What a bastard.’ Katie glanced at Barton, who was still reading, oblivious. ‘I hope you spat in his drink.’
He tilted the beer towards Katie and she shook her head. ‘You know he’s a fraud, though.’ Katie put a hand on Max’s arm. ‘Why do you need him to take it back? Or prove he’s lying or whatever?’
‘I didn’t say it was logical. I know he’s lying, that he just got a lucky hit, but there’s that little bit of doubt.’ He lowered his voice. ‘And now I know that ghosts exist, it makes it all so much more possible. Afterlife. Messages from beyond the grave, all that.’
Katie wanted to ask him what Barton had told him, but she was afraid he’d say, ‘It’s personal,’ again.
He read her mind. ‘I know you must be curious—’
‘It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it.’
Max looked relieved. ‘Thank you.’
Damn it. Maybe Anna was right: maybe it was time she took a leap of faith. If she opened up to him, maybe he’d do the same back. Gwen had told her once that when a client was being hesitant about explaining a problem, she shared something personal or embarrassing first. Like swapping vulnerabilities. Like making a deal. ‘I know what it’s like to be lied to. There was a woman who talked me into trusting her. She said she was going to show me how to harness my power, make me strong like Gwen.’ Katie swallowed. ‘She showed me just enough magic so that I believed her, showed me how to do things.’
Max was leaning on the bar, nodding. ‘She gave you what you wanted. Perfect con.’
‘And then she tried to kill me. Nearly succeeded, too.’
‘Jesus,’ Max said, straightening up. ‘You mean that metaphorically, right?’
Katie swallowed and shook her head.
Patrick sailed up to the bar and Max swiped his beer off the top.
‘Where’s Housekeeping?’ Patrick said, not even bothering to look up from the tablet he was carrying.
‘Zofia?’ Max said. ‘Behind you.’
‘Ah, good.’ Patrick tapped at his gadget a couple more times, then frowned at Zofia. ‘I’ve just had another complaint. Mrs Thomas in The Blue Room says her bed wasn’t made today.’
Zofia shook her head. ‘I did that room. I made all the rooms.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Katie stepped in front of Zofia.
‘This is unacceptable,’ Patrick continued hectoring Zofia over Katie’s head. ‘People expect a certain level of service and if you’re unable or unwilling to provide that service—’
‘She did the room,’ Katie said. ‘She just told you.’
‘This isn’t like the good old days. There’s the Internet now. People go on their computers and write bad reviews that the world and his wife can read.’
‘So, give Mrs Thomas a free meal or a spa treatment or something.’
Patrick finally seemed to notice Katie. ‘I thought you were looking into this?’
‘I am,’ Katie said. ‘Did you check the room?’
‘Look for yourself,’ Patrick said and marched away.
‘Sorry,’ Katie said to Zofia. ‘Just ignore him.’
Upstairs, Katie knocked on the door of The Blue Room to make sure it wasn’t occupied and then used the master key to go inside. There was a suitcase on the luggage rack, a few personal items on the bedside tables and desk and the curtains were open. Sunlight streamed onto the unmade bed. Sheets were tangled on the floor, the blanket scrunched up at the foot of the bed and what looked like a toaster-full of crumbs on the bottom sheet.
Katie crossed her arms. ‘Violet! Come out here right now!’
A waft of Chanel No.5 and a dramatic drop in temperature gave her away.
‘Where I can see you,’ Katie said, using her strictest tone.
Violet glided out from the en-suite bathroom with a studied look of innocence on her face.
‘What have you got against poor Zofia?’ Katie indicated the bed. ‘She’s the one who catches trouble for this stuff, you know.’
‘Nothing,’ Violet said. ‘Although I don’t know why you care so much. Maids are all the same. Sneaky.’
Katie closed her eyes. Of course. ‘Did a maid tell your father about Henry?’
Violet tossed her hair. ‘She spied on us then went running to him. She got Henry sent away. Father wouldn’t even let me write to him. It was awful.’
‘I’m sure it was,’ Katie said.
‘I trusted her,’ Violet said. ‘I confided in her and she betrayed me.’ Violet looked anguished and Katie felt the stab of betrayal in her own heart.
‘But you mustn’t punish Zofia. It’s not her fault.’
‘You won’t let me have any fun.’ Violet pouted. ‘And I’m dead. It’s not fair.’
‘Vi—’
‘Fine.’ Violet curtseyed, holding out the skirt of her dress. ‘Your wish is my command.’
‘Are you talking to a ghost right now?’ Patrick emerged from behind the door, which Katie had left open out of habit. He’d followed her upstairs, had been listening in the hallway.
Katie looked at Violet. ‘No.’
‘You were,’ Patrick said. ‘You said “Violet”. Is that Violet Beaufort? The girl who was murdered?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Barton said he could sense a lot of energy here, but I didn’t really believe him. This is brilliant, though.’
‘I told you before. I’m not talking to any journalists.’
‘What about leading a ghost tour?’
Patrick wasn’t listening to her, so Katie tried a different tack. ‘Didn’t you say the town council objected? What about Pendleford’s traditional family values?’
‘What could be more traditional than history?’
‘Well, count me out,’ Katie said. It was difficult not to glance in Violet’s direction; she was plucking at Patrick’s sleeve.
Patrick shivered. ‘You know your future employment relies on this place staying open.’
Katie step
ped up and looked Patrick straight in the eye. ‘Don’t threaten me. You have no idea what I can do.’
Violet put her arms around Patrick and Katie felt the coldness she knew would be enveloping him. She watched Patrick turn pale with great satisfaction. He turned and half ran down the hall, the fire door at the end slamming shut behind him.
‘Fun!’ Violet clapped her hands. ‘Who else can we do?’
*
Patrick avoided Katie for the rest of her shift, which was just perfect. The bar was so busy that Max didn’t have time to scowl at Barton any more and Anna finished early in the restaurant to go on a date with Nicolas, the cricket player.
‘I’m so pleased for you,’ Katie said, giving her a quick hug goodbye.
‘You inspired me,’ Anna said. ‘You took a chance and now look at you. All loved up.’
‘I wouldn’t say that,’ Katie said, trying not to smile.
‘Oh, please,’ Anna said. ‘You dribble whenever you see Max and he can’t take his eyes off you.’
‘I don’t dribble,’ Katie said. ‘That’s slander. Does he really watch me?’
Anna pulled on her denim jacket and adjusted the collar. ‘He doesn’t just stare at you, he gets this really dopey expression. Like this.’ Anna pulled a moony-eyed face.
‘He does not,’ Katie said, glowing all over.
At the end of her shift, Katie went to the freezer to liberate a couple of Fabs. Max joined her outside and she filled him in on Violet’s latest antics. She couldn’t stop smiling, but Max was quiet.
‘What?’ Katie said.
‘I don’t understand. You and Violet are so friendly, why do you have to investigate her death? Why not just ask her what happened?’
‘She says she doesn’t remember,’ Katie said. ‘I don’t know if she just doesn’t want to talk about it or if she really doesn’t—’
‘So she’s lying to you? And you wonder why I don’t want you to trust them—’
‘She’s frightened, I think. Or maybe she really can’t remember. It was a long time ago.’
‘I think she’d remember her death. It’s pretty important.’
‘The dead seem to have a different concept of what’s important. You’d be surprised.’
He didn’t know Violet the way she did; he didn’t understand. Violet was trapped and bored as a ghost and she’d been trapped and bored when she was alive, too. She deserved to live.
Max put his hands on the tops of Katie’s arms near her shoulders. They were hot but dry and she felt the shock of his touch right down to her toes. Max put his face close to hers. ‘Don’t you think that’s an even better reason not to trust them?’
Katie tried to focus on his words, tried not to get distracted by his nearness, by the feel of his hands on her skin. He was holding her firmly, not gripping, but she could see the tension in his arms. The muscles were standing out and the sleeves of his T-shirt had ridden up, exposing a line of lighter skin.
‘I know you like Violet,’ he was saying, ‘but she’s dead. At the very least she’s got this whole other perspective, something we can’t imagine. I mean, maybe life doesn’t seem all that important to her any more, or maybe it does. I don’t know. You don’t know. That’s what I’m saying. We. Don’t. Know.’
‘If I can help her, then I should.’
‘I know you believe that, but you have to stay safe, too.’
‘Believe me, that’s always been my view. My priority. But I’m sick of being scared.’
‘I get that,’ Max said, gently. ‘I really do. And I know you like Violet.’
‘It’s more than that.’
‘You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me. Not to anyone. You can just walk away.’
‘It’s not that simple.’ There were whispers in every shadow; the suggestion of a face was looking through the window — it had been getting clearer and clearer the whole time Max had been speaking. Spirits seemed to be everywhere she turned, getting stronger and louder by the moment.
‘We could go away,’ Max was saying. ‘Together. Just for a while.’
‘Maybe,’ Katie said. She tried to focus on his face, but she felt very cold. The hairs were standing up along her arms.
‘I think a break would—’ Max broke off. ‘Are you okay? You’ve gone really white—’
‘Headache,’ Katie managed. A shape rose out of the concrete floor and the flickering image of a woman ran through Katie, filling her with a paralysing ice.
‘Do you want a tablet?’
‘Please,’ Katie said, trying to sound normal, trying not to alarm Max. ‘And a glass of water.’
‘I’ll be right back,’ Max said and disappeared into the hotel.
‘Find my baby,’ a deep voice, like a woman who had been smoking cigars for the last hundred years, and then another ‘help’ and another and another.
Katie curled into a ball on the floor. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, hours or minutes. She wrapped her arms around her head and tried to block out the voices that were coming from all around. She couldn’t make out the words any more; it was just a babble of different tones. There were screams, too, one getting louder and higher pitched. Somewhere, at the edge of the noise but still, somehow, achingly clear was a newborn’s thin and heart-wrenching cry.
Katie was crying, now; she couldn’t stop the tears falling and she couldn’t stop the voices. She had her fingers wedged so tightly into her ears that they hurt but it didn’t help. The boundary between her and the voices seemed blurred. It was as if they were screaming inside her head.
She didn’t realise that she was rocking, or that she was making sounds of her own, but she felt a shaking of her shoulder. She jerked up and saw Henry reaching down for her. He put his hands on her head and she jerked away. He came forwards, his hands out and Katie scrabbled backwards, pure instinct driving her from beneath the pain and terror.
‘I can help,’ Henry said. At least she thought that was what he said. She watched his lips move and heard him, just barely. Darkness was edging in around her vision and she felt her old terror of passing out. She was not going to be helpless. She was not going to let the darkness take her. She couldn’t think coherently enough to know why, but she just felt that inner steel, the same thing that stopped her from having more than one beer, the voice in her head that told her she had to stay alert, in control.
The pain was a band around her temples and it was squeezing tighter and tighter, the voices just an incoherent roar. In a moment my head is going to pop like a ripe mango. The thought was horribly clear. She let Henry put his hands on her. He took her hands from her ears and replaced them with his own. His palms softly cupped her ears, his fingers ran underneath her hair at the back of her neck and, for once, the icy touch of a lost soul felt like a balm. The voices faded almost instantly. Katie caught a couple more separate voices again and then, blissfully, they went quiet.
She gazed into Henry’s pale eyes, willing the miracle to stick. It did. The quiet was so absolute that she became aware of the sound of her own ragged breath.
‘Better?’ Henry spoke quietly.
Katie swallowed. ‘Yes. Thank you.’
He moved away, then, and Katie closed her eyes, expecting another onslaught. Nothing.
Katie sat back on her heels and pressed her palms over her eyes. She could see flashing lights. Perhaps she was getting a migraine. Anna had described hers once and they’d begun with fuzzy vision and ended with intense pain.
‘What was that?’
‘At a guess,’ Henry said, ‘you’re not in control of your own power.’
That was wearingly familiar. ‘It’s not my fault.’
‘I didn’t say it was your fault. It’ll be your funeral, though.’
Katie took her hands away and looked at Henry. He looked completely calm. ‘Are you trying to frighten me?’
‘I don’t think I need to do anything. Surely you can see that, long term, hearing the voices of every echo and fragment of ev
ery person who has felt strongly enough to leave some kind of trace on this world is not a tenable position.’
‘Not tenable. I think my head is about to split open.’ I thought I was going to die.
‘Precisely.’
‘You stopped it, though.’ Katie tried to sound appropriately grateful, rather than terrified and angry. ‘How did you do that?’
‘I’ve had a lot of time to practise and it seems that my unfortunate position is not without its own abilities.’
‘Can you help me?’
Henry smiled. ‘Absolutely. But there is something I want you to do for me in return.’
‘You won’t do it out of the goodness of your heart?’
‘Not really my style, I’m afraid,’ Henry said. ‘But I can show you how to control your power. You’ll never need to be scared again.’
‘What do you want?’
‘I want a friend.’
Katie opened her mouth to say that she was already Henry’s friend, but he pre-empted her.
‘Not you, dear girl. A friend like me.’
‘A ghost.’
‘Precisely. I don’t want to be alone any more.’ Henry looked embarrassed and a little forlorn and Katie felt her heart clench in sympathy. But still. ‘I don’t know how to give you what you want. You all seem to exist in different, like, dimensions or something. Were you with anyone when you died? Maybe I could find them and if they’re linked somehow—’
‘I think you’re the key.’
‘What?’
‘To linking. I think I’d be able to cross over to another dimension if you, shall we say, invite me.’
‘And how would I do that?’
‘As I say, I think you’re a key. I think you open the doors between the different planes of existence. In fact, you’re like a skeleton key — you fit everyone’s lock and that’s why you can hear us all.’
‘I still don’t see how—’
‘If I step inside you, then I think I’ll be able to talk to the other ghosts who can talk to you. You’ll be a conduit.’
The Secrets of Ghosts Page 24
