Beth swallowed. ‘We only have two months. There are two beautiful hotels nearby, ready and perfect. Why this one?’
‘Amelia has her reasons.’ Rose sniffed, took out a compact mirror and applied lipstick.
Beth pulled out her own mobile phone and opened her contacts. Then she dialled.
Charlie answered on the first ring. ‘What?’
‘I’m at The Monk’s Inn. It’s a disaster.’
‘I don’t want to hear it. I’m in the middle of an important meeting.’ The phone rang off.
‘Give me strength,’ Beth muttered, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.
‘Amelia will take care of the necessary details.’ Rose picked her way over to the stairs. ‘Show us around please Mr…’
‘Jones, but please call me Bill.’ The old man coughed.
Beth stared out the front window. The sense of dread that had filled her when she walked into the hotel intensified. She heard laughing in her mind and she pushed it back, imagining a ball of bright white light around her. She stretched it out, engulfing Bill, and watched as he closed his eyes, his face relaxing.
‘Well, Miss…?’ Bill asked.
‘Beth, please call me Beth.’ She glanced at Rose, who was running a finger along the banister and examining it, eyebrows crinkled together. Beth nodded. ‘Please, Bill,’ she said. ‘Show us around?’
‘Can I hang that up for you?’ Bill nodded towards the long white coat Rose had taken off. She was staring at the hooks on the wall behind her. Long cobwebs hung from one of them, and the paint was peeling off the wall.
‘No thank you,’ she said, her voice strangled. ‘I’ll hang onto it.’
Bill snorted and shook his head in disbelief. ‘What kind of mad boss do you have, to send you on such a crazy mission?’
‘I ask myself that every day.’ Beth winked. ‘So far I’ve not found an answer.’ Since she had surrounded Bill with light, colour was coming back into his pale, sunken cheeks and his eyes were brighter. He seemed younger somehow.
‘Who is this party for anyway?’ Bill asked, coming out from behind the reception desk.
‘Amelia Faustus. Have you heard of her?’
‘Oh, I’ve heard of her,’ Bill said, his face darkening. ‘I saw her on the telly the other day. Either that woman has no idea what she’s talking about, or she’s telling downright lies. I’m surprised she’d want to stay in a place like this after all her scaremongering about evil spirits.’
‘Shh.’ Beth held her finger to her lips again and dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Don’t let the ghosts hear you say that.’
Bill laughed again. He doubled over, leaning on his knees as the laughter was choked out by coughing. ‘I would love to show you around, miss. It would do me good to have the likes of you here to cheer me up. I hardly ever get to leave since there’s nobody to cover me.’
‘You don’t leave?’ Beth heard her voice crack. The shivering cold was trying to edge back into her body. She pushed it back with the light. ‘Ever?’
‘Only to buy food. I can’t remember when I last got clothes or a book.’
‘Don’t you have friends who could stand in while you get out for a bit?’
‘Not amongst the living.’ He led her into a large room.
‘Oh my goodness,’ Beth said, as the smell of ingrained, stale wine hit her nostrils.
‘I know.’ Bill shrugged. ‘But the room is my favourite for all it stinks.’
The Ballroom had once, indeed, been beautiful. Now neglect hung from every delicate line. Huge, dirty latticed windows lined the far wall, beginning at the level of Beth’s shoulders and arcing up to the high, ornate ceiling. Beneath the windows stretched dark wood panels that were scratched and scuffed. A huge portrait of a woman in an elaborate red dress, with a laced corset and a voluminous skirt and full ruff, hung at one end of the hall. A small spaniel sat at her ankles, gazing up at her adoringly. At the other end was a stage, with lush velvet curtains that pooled on the floor. The material was filthy but undamaged. Round, solid-wood tables and ornate dark-wood chairs were arranged around the room, their padded seats covered with frayed, red-patterned fabric.
‘Bill, this place is amazing!’ Beth said. ‘Why doesn’t the owner do something with it?’ She leaned against the heavy oak bar by the doorway, peering at the shelves behind. They were well stocked with large bottles of spirits, but each one was discoloured and thick with dust.
A smile spread over Bill’s face and he stood up a little taller. ‘There is so much history here. Maybe one day the owner will appreciate what they have. I can only hope.’
Beth saw a shadow move out of the corner of her eye and spun around. There was nobody there. She looked at Rose, who was perched on the edge of the one of the round tables, tapping on her mobile phone.
Bill was watching her, his lips raised in a slight smile. ‘You saw it?’ he murmured under his breath.
Beth nodded. ‘Almost. But I definitely felt it.’
Bill stepped closer. ‘How do you keep it away? Will you teach me?’
‘I will, of course, but not in front of her.’ She tilted her head towards Rose.
‘What about the bedrooms?’ Beth asked, loud enough for Rose to hear. ‘I’m guessing some people will want to stay overnight, especially if they’re travelling to get here.’
‘This way.’
Bill led them up a huge, curved staircase with an elaborately carved banister. Smaller portraits of men and women in old-fashioned draped gowns and ruffles lined the walls. Beth felt as though they were watching her, but she didn’t flinch as Bill led them deeper into the hotel.
They walked past a number of wood-panelled bedroom doors before Bill stopped before a double-door. ‘This is the Royal Suite. It’s housed royalty, albeit a long time ago. This bedroom is in the history books, if you look for it.’
He swung the doors wide and ushered them in. Beth gasped. A huge four-poster bed with ornate oak panelling and floor-length red curtains stood in the centre of the spacious room. Matching curtains framed the windows with dirty, torn nets behind. An old, round, mahogany table stood on each side of the bed with carved legs that curved underneath the polished surface. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystalline orbs covered with dust. The room was dark, shadowy, but Beth was sure the sunlight would make it stunning if the grimy windows were cleaned. She walked over to the large latticed window and glanced at the threadbare cushions on the ornate window-seat.
‘Are they all like this?’
Bill shook his head. ‘I wish.’
‘May I?’ she asked, nodding towards the four-poster bed. ‘I’ve always wondered how comfortable these things are.’
‘Be my guest.’ Bill sat on an upright chair in the corner of the room.
Beth sank onto the soft bed. ‘What do you think, Rose? We could give this room to Amelia? Do you think she’d enjoy playing royalty for the night?’
Rose started, and then slipped her phone into her black, patent handbag while she studied the room. She wrinkled her nose as she ran a finger over the dirty velvet of the curtains. When she took it away, a tattered cobweb hung from her long, red nail. She shrieked, waving her finger around in disgust, and then shivered and brushed frantically at the white coat that still hung over her arm. ‘Amelia is used to a much more groomed environment.’