by Amy Cross
And then she screamed as she bumped straight into someone who'd been standing behind her.
Chapter Eleven
“I didn't do it on purpose!” Sam Gough said as he followed Susan back along the corridor. “Do you really think I've got nothing better to do than skulk about in my uncle's cinema, waiting to freak out random girls?”
“You could have given me a heart attack,” she replied, trying her best to keep from seeming too flustered.
“Again, not something I was aiming for.”
Stopping as she reached the foyer, she turned to him.
“Uncle Harry asked me to stop by and help him fix something in the projector room,” he explained, “and that's what I'm doing. Some general dogsbody work that he could do perfectly well all on his lonesome. I suppose I should think of it as a compliment, really. I quit last last night, but it's pretty obvious that he can't do without me.”
“He didn't tell me anyone was coming.”
“And exactly who are you, anyway?” he asked.
“My name is Susan,” she told him, “and Mr. Gough hired me to work on the ticket desk and carry out other duties around the cinema. As you can see, I'm also doing some work here in the office, trying to get his files in order. Believe me, that's a somewhat gargantuan task.”
“Huh,” Sam said, putting his hands on his hips for a moment.
“What?”
“Nothing, it's just that you're the first person I've ever heard refer to him as Mr. Gough. He's Harry to everyone in town.”
“I like to be professional.”
“Right. Sure you do.” He sighed, before holding up a metal ring he'd been carrying. “I came to find this in one of the old storage rooms. I honestly didn't give any thought to who else might be around, I just wanted to get in, fix the trolley upstairs, and get out again.”
“Well, don't let me stop you,” she replied. “It's just that he never mentioned you, that's all.”
“Not even once?”
“Nope.”
He hesitated, and then he looked her up and down for a moment.
“Don't take this the wrong way,” he continued, “but I'm a little surprised that my uncle hired a girl. He's certainly never done that before, it's always been men in the past. How exactly did he find you?”
“That's really of no concern,” she said a little defensively. “Listen, everything's fine, I was just startled, that's all. I didn't expect to find anyone creeping about.”
“Again, not creeping,” he replied, holding his hands up. “Just doing a job.”
“Well, don't let me stop you,” she said as he made his way over to the stairs. “I thought your uncle said he fired you, but I suppose I might have been wrong.”
“Didn't you just say that he never mentioned me?”
“Have a nice time up there,” she said, ruing her little slip. “I hope it doesn't take you too long.”
***
“So we got off on the wrong foot.”
Looking up from the folders she was in the middle of reorganizing, Susan saw that Sam was standing in the doorway, watching her.
“Sorry about that,” he continued, stepping into the office and approaching the desk, then holding a hand out toward her. “Samuel Gough. People call me Sam. I'm really not so annoying once you get to know me. I hope not, anyway.”
“I never said that I find you annoying,” she replied, shaking his hand.
“I could see it in your eyes.”
“You could not see -”
Stopping herself just in time, she realized that something about Sam seemed to get under her skin with effortless precision. She took a deep breath, and then she looked back down at the papers.
“Did you get everything done?” she asked casually.
“In the projection room? Sure. Uncle Harry's up there now, I think he's never happier than when he's fiddling about with those machines. Has he threatened to teach you how they work yet?”
“I don't think so, no.”
“He will. He's a good teacher, though, and it's a useful skill to have. I might even try to find a job in that line of work after I leave Crowford.”
“When are you leaving?”
“As soon as I can.”
She glanced up at him.
“Crowford's a little small,” he pointed out, not unreasonably. “There's a whole world out there, just waiting to be explored, and I for one want to see every corner. America. Africa. Asia. Australia. Hell, even Antarctica.” He furrowed his brow. “Hey, why do so many continents start with the letter A?”
“It sounds like you have a plan.”
“I do,” he replied. “I'm just waiting to get my ducks in a row. What about you? Got any plans to blow this joint?”
“I really haven't thought about it very much,” she replied, and she immediately began to wonder why she'd lied. “I certainly don't intend to spend my whole life here.”
“I like that spirit,” he told her, before watching for a moment as she got back to work. “Well, I suppose I'm done here, so I might as well head off. I'm very busy, you know, I really don't have time to just stand around talking to random people.”
“Good afternoon,” she said, making sure to not even glance at him again.
She continued to look at the papers for a few seconds, but she couldn't help noting that Sam seemed to still be in the doorway. Finally she looked up at him, and she tried to hide her sense of profound irritation.
“Has he told you about the weirdness in this place?” Sam asked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I'm sure old Harry's filled you in on the details of your job,” he continued, “but I doubt he's told you what you really need to know. Has he told you how to keep yourself safe here?”
“I don't think I need any help in that department.”
“Sounds like he hasn't, then.”
“I really don't know what you're talking about,” she replied, struggling to tolerate his vague statements. “If you don't mind, I'm afraid that I have a lot of work to get done before the current screening finishes.”
“Sure, but you know not to look her in the eye, don't you?”
Susan opened her mouth to tell him that she really wasn't interested, but at the last moment she held back.
“Everyone who works here notices her eventually,” Sam continued. “A chill here. Some footsteps there. A sense that you're not alone, even though you can't see anyone. Sometimes it's really nothing more than a shiver that runs up your spine, something you can't explain but something you also can't entirely ignore. That's all fine, it's just some mildly weird stuff. She can't actually hurt you unless you see her.”
“I'm not in the mood for childish stories,” she told him.
“There's nothing childish about the ghost of the Empire,” he replied. “About Winifred Thorpe.”
She rolled her eyes.
“I'm serious,” he added. “Listen, most people don't see her, and you should hope that you're in that category, because seeing her is a whole other ballgame. If it's just out the corner of your eye, that's one thing, but you really, absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt have to make sure that under no circumstances do you ever look her in the eye. Because the few people who've done that all ended up -”
“Did I accidentally make you think that I'm interested in any of this?” she asked, interrupting him. “If so, then I must apologize. The truth is, I just want to do my job each day and go home, and I don't have time for foolish tales about strange women. I live very much in the real world, thank you, and I have absolutely no interest in anything else.”
“Okay, but -”
“I don't want to hear it!”
“Sure, I just -”
“And that's final!”
She waited, but this time he seemed to have got the message. To her relief, he took a step back from the doorway and held his hands up again.
“Fine,” he said. “You know what? It's no skin off my nose. I wish you nothing but the best
of luck while you're here. I probably won't see you again, I'm going to be skipping town pretty soon to see the world, so I guess this is goodbye.” He paused, before giving her a quick wave. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” she replied, forcing a smile before looking back down at her papers, and this time she was relieved to hear Sam walking away.
As she worked, she found herself wondering why Sam had made her feel quite so on edge. Something about him had seemed to push all her buttons, but she quickly remembered that he'd said he was leaving. In that case, she hopefully would never have to deal with him again.
Or his dumb stories about the cinema.
Chapter Twelve
“Oh, you mustn't mind Sam,” Harry said later, as he sat in the corner of the projection room and watched steam rising from the top of his cup of tea. “He's a good boy, he's just a little lost. He hasn't found his role in life yet.”
“He told me he's leaving soon,” she replied, looking over at the huge, complicated projection equipment and wondering whether she might one day learn how it worked.
“Sam's being saying he's going to leave Crowford ever since he learned to talk,” Harry muttered. “He's twenty-five years old now, and he's had plenty of chances to get out of here. He quits his job here every other week. Yet here he is, still bumming around, still telling everyone who'll listen how one day he's off.”
“He's probably just waiting until he's ready,” she suggested.
“And he'll still be waiting when he's my age,” Harry suggested with a faint chuckle. “I know that boy, and I promise you that he's full of dreams but he lacks one crucial thing. He lacks application, and the ability to actually get anything done. If he was going to leave, he'd have done so by now.”
“He might be saving up money.”
“Oh, I'm sure that's one of his excuses,” Harry said with a heavy sigh, “and I might be another. He probably thinks that he needs to stick around to help me run this place. And there are probably plenty of other little things that are holding him back, but the end result will always be the same. Mark my words, when he's my age, he'll still be in Crowford and he'll still be saying the same things.” He paused for a moment. “It gives me no satisfaction to say that, by the way. He's a good boy, he should get out there, but something's holding him back from actually -”
Before he could finish, they both heard footsteps out in the corridor. Susan immediately checked her watch and, seeing that the doors weren't due to open for another hour, she turned to go out and take a look.
“Don't!” Harry said firmly.
She looked back at him.
“I think there's someone else here,” she told him. “I'm just going to -”
“Don't!” he said again, clearly troubled by something. “That's an order!”
Startled by his insistence, she listened as the footsteps made their way closer. Turning, she expected to see someone walk past the open door, but instead the footsteps seemed to continue without anybody actually appearing. After a few more seconds, the footsteps headed off into the distance, and Susan tried to figure out exactly what had just happened.
She turned to Harry.
“That'll be the pipes,” he told her.
“I'm sorry?”
“The Empire is a very old building.”
“I don't think that was -”
“You should hear them banging sometimes,” he continued, interrupting her. “Sometimes I worry that they're going to interrupt a screening and people'll start complaining. I really ought to get someone in to take a look at the place. Remind me when we're in the office, and I'll make a few phone calls.”
“That wasn't a pipe,” Susan said cautiously. “Someone's out there.”
“I can understand how you might think that.”
“I'm just going to make sure,” she replied, turning and stepping out into the corridor. “You can't have someone just wandering around and -”
“No!” Harry shouted, getting to his feet and rushing toward her, quickly grabbing her by the arm and forcing her to stay put.
Leaning out into the corridor, he looked both ways, but the fear in his eyes was impossible to miss.
“Mr. Gough,” Susan said after a moment, trying to understand why he'd reacted in such a strange manner, “is something wrong? Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Tell you?”
He turned to her, and for a few seconds he seemed somewhat confused.
“Mr. Gough,” she continued, hoping that she might finally be getting through to him, “are you sure you're alright?”
“I'm absolutely fine,” he told her. “Please, we have a lot of work to do before the evening showings. Have you cleaned the bathrooms yet?”
“No, I was -”
“Then I'd like you to do that, please,” he added, clearly trying to cut off the opportunity for any further conversation. “It's no good, us standing around like this and yammering the whole time. We have work to do!”
***
Kneeling in front of one of the toilets in the men's bathroom, Susan focused on pushing the brush deep down. Like everything else at the Empire, the bathrooms showed subtle signs of not having been kept quite up to scratch, and she was trying to get rid of some of the limescale deposits that had built up over time. So far, she was finding the task quite challenging.
After a few minutes, she got to her feet and headed over to the sinks. Her arms were aching from the effort, but she was determined to get the job done properly. She just needed a little break first, but as she looked into the mirror she was surprised to see that there were slight dark patches under her eyes.
Leaning closer, she examined the patches more carefully. They weren't too bad, but they were certainly new, and she was somewhat shocked to think that at the tender age of twenty-one she might already be showing signs of getting old. Her mother had thick, heavy dark bags that hung under both eyes, and Susan had always hoped that she'd manage to avoid the same thing. These dark patches seemed different somehow, yet they were clear proof that something – stress, she reasoned – was causing a change.
“Great,” she muttered under her breath, “that's just what I -”
Before she could finish, she heard footsteps out in the corridor. She looked at the reflection of the open door, and she waited as the footsteps made their way closer. Although she tried to tell herself that Harry was probably on his way to check how she was doing, she couldn't help but notice that these footsteps seemed to be moving quite fast. She was also aware of a flicker of fear in her chest, but she continued to watch the door in the mirror, determined to prove to herself that there was no reason to be afraid.
Suddenly a woman, wearing a black dress, walked straight past the door and then carried on out of sight.
“What the -”
Susan raced over to the door and looked out into the corridor, and to her surprise she could see the woman walking toward the far end. She hesitated for a moment, worried that somehow someone had broken into the cinema, and then she watched as the woman simply stepped through the far wall and vanished.
For a moment, feeling somewhat faint, Susan stayed completely frozen in the doorway. Her mind was blank, although somewhere in the deepest recesses she was frantically trying to come up with an explanation for what she'd just seen.
Finally, after glancing both ways along the corridor, she made her way cautiously toward the spot where she'd last seen the woman and she reached out to double-check that the wall was, in fact, completely solid. As her hand pressed against the plaster, she found that there was certainly no way to simply walk through, but she noticed that the wall was very cold to the touch. She pushed a little harder, just in case some secret door might give way, and then she stepped back as she realized that she knew exactly what was on the wall's other side.
The auditorium.
She briefly considered running to find Harry, but then she began to wonder exactly what she was supposed to say to him. She knew that if she started going
on about a woman walking through the cinema's walls, she'd most likely be written off as a complete lunatic; she also felt that Harry was unlikely to entertain any wild theories about ghosts or spirits in the building. Susan herself had never really believed in such things, although at that moment she was struggling to come up with another explanation for what had just happened.
Reaching out, she touched the wall again; it was no less solid than before, but at least it had lost that strange chill.
“Ghosts don't exist,” she whispered to herself, in an attempt to keep her mind from straying. “They just don't, so the woman was...”
Her voice trailed off as she tried to come up with an answer. After a few seconds, however, she knew that she only really had one option. As she stared at the blank wall, she realized that she was going to have to go to the auditorium and see whether there was any further sign of the mysterious woman.
Chapter Thirteen
The double doors creaked in the darkness as Susan pushed them open and looked through into the auditorium. With the lights off and the screen dark, the huge room was like a void, with only the backs of a few seats visible. Listening for a moment, Susan heard no sign of movement, but she knew she'd have to investigate a little more fully.
She flicked the switches on the wall, but to her surprise the main lights failed to come on. She tried a couple more times, and she felt a flicker of frustration as she realized that for some reason the lighting system was down. She knew that Harry sometimes tinkered with the lights between shows, and she figured that he was probably off in one of the many backrooms of the cinema, working on one system or another. Still, that didn't help her as she tried the switch a few more times, and then – looking into the darkness – she realized that she really needed to be absolutely certain that there was nobody around.
“Hey,” she said, and she was immediately shocked by how timid her voice sounded in the large space. “Is anyone...”
Her voice trailed off as she realized that simply calling out wasn't going to be enough. She paused, and then she took the flashlight from her belt and switched it on, before casting the beam of light across the auditorium.
