‘Cut,’ a voice shouted.
The audience began to shuffle and mutter as members of the crew rushed back and forth. A pale woman with dark circles under her eyes hurried over to Amelia and started touching up her make-up. Someone with a clipboard talked to Katherine, while a camera was moved into a better position.
A man walked onto the stage, handed a glass of water to Amelia and crouched down beside Katherine.
Dressed in jeans and a fitted black top, his shoulder-length, dark-blond hair pulled into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, he looked unaccountably different. Beth massaged her neck as she watched him. She wanted to be able to say he was dressed strangely, but he wasn’t. It was as though he were perfectly camouflaged to all except her. He moved seamlessly through the flow of people, a word here, a touch there, but nothing that disrupted the fast-paced movement of the crew. Beth forced herself to turn away, but she felt his presence to her left, his energy tugging at her mind.
‘What made you think this ghost was there to hurt you?’ Katherine’s voice broke in on her thoughts. The studio had fallen silent.
‘I just knew it, Katherine, darling. Haven’t you ever known something deep in your heart?’
Katherine laughed, but her lips barely moved. ‘It’s not my heart we’re here to talk about.’
Beth leaned back in her chair. She knew all about just knowing and she just knew something was seriously off with Amelia. Why would she feel so threatened by a spirit offering peace and love? Since when was that frightening? And why, oh why, did she feel the world needed to hear about it?
Beth felt something tugging at her mind and turned. The man from the stage was now standing at the back of the audience. He was watching her. Why did she feel she had met him before? She couldn’t see him clearly from this distance and felt a weird urge to go and introduce herself, to get a clearer look. Something indefinable about his face was strikingly different to anyone she had seen before, but at the same time he was achingly familiar.
Beth blinked. For a moment his ears looked pointed, but when she looked again, they were perfectly normal.
She turned back to the set, her heart pounding, mind reeling.
Amelia was still talking and Beth did her best to suppress the annoyance that surged through her. The woman had an unreasonable ability to get to her. Beth knew she was being prickly, but something was off and she couldn’t work out what.
‘The spirit offered his hand.’ Amelia’s voice was hypnotic as she leaned forwards in her chair, looking first at Katherine and then out to the audience. She spoke softly, intimately. ‘I knew if I took it, I would lose myself entirely. I would no longer be the Amelia the world recognised. My soul would be in danger.’
‘In danger from what, exactly?’ Beth muttered under her breath. ‘Beings offering peace and love? Terrifying.’
There was a sharp intake of breath. The woman to her right pulled back, eyes wide, face pale as she shielded her daughter from Beth. The little girl watched her, leaning forwards, her face flushed, head tilted to one side.
A camera swivelled around to point at Beth. She rolled her eyes. How loudly had she spoken?
Katherine nodded to someone on her left.
Beth followed her gaze and saw the same man walking towards her. She hadn’t seen his face up close, but now he held her gaze, smiling encouragement. For some reason, she felt as though he were willing her to do well. His features were fine, sculpted even. His narrow, angular face was somehow out of place in the modern and transient surroundings of the television studio. His upward-slanting eyebrows were oddly familiar.
Beth smiled back. She was determined to look serene despite the butterflies swarming in her stomach, but Amelia was watching her. The woman’s almost entirely contained anger was pointed right at Beth. She strengthened her psychic protections, but the energy still seeped through, making her heart pound and her stomach feel like lead. It’s not real, she repeated to herself over and over like a mantra.
The man crouched down and held out a microphone. ‘Would you like to speak?’ His voice was deep, his eyes a rich blue that seemed almost violet at the edges. His ears were profoundly normal.
‘I wouldn’t, but someone obviously wants to ask me a question. I may as well get it over with.’
He handed her the microphone.
She took it.
Smiling, he held her gaze for a moment too long.
‘Please, introduce yourself,’ Katherine said, nodding with a friendly smile.
Beth felt a moment’s connection. This well-manicured and formidable woman didn’t like Amelia any more than she did.
‘My name’s Beth.’
‘And what was that you said? Could you repeat it for the benefit of the audience here and at home?’
Beth swallowed. She could see herself in one of the monitors. Her dark eyes looked huge against her pale skin. She wished she’d made more of an effort. The simple plait looked out of place in this cavernously sterile room. The indigo tunic and leggings seemed somehow from a different time. She pulled herself up, holding her shoulders straight and proud as she looked at Amelia.
‘I was just wondering why you thought you were in danger? Since you didn’t take the offered hand, we have no idea what would have actually happened. To suggest that it posed some kind of threat is pure speculation.’
Beth felt a rush of warmth from somewhere outside of her and caught the scent of lavender.
Sister.
The single word echoed in her mind. She shook her head. Where did that come from? She was an only child; nobody’s sister.
‘Excellent questions, Beth.’ Katherine nodded, unable to hide her smirk.
Amelia stood up. She smoothed her shimmering white top over the waistline of her white pencil skirt. Then she reached up and scooped all of her hair over one shoulder so it hung down in a glossy dark mane to her left elbow. Despite the towering stilettos, she didn’t so much walk as prowl like some kind of predator.
Beth cursed her seat in the front row. If she’d been farther back, she wouldn’t have attracted so much attention, no matter how many loud comments she made.
‘Beth, is it? I once knew someone who looked like you.’ Amelia’s voice was smooth; her smile faultless. She held out her hand.
Beth paused, and then took it. It was icy cold. She winced at the strength of Amelia’s grip, but held the smile on her face.
‘I’m so pleased you came, Beth.’ Amelia dropped her hand and then turned to the rest of the audience. ‘In fact, it’s so wonderful to see all of you, to feel your love at this challenging time, and to share my story with you.’
‘You don’t really have a story, though, do you?’ Beth felt the audience’s shock as a physical wave of adrenaline. ‘I’m so sorry your mother died. It was clearly hugely traumatic and I can see why your mind might turn to ghosts. But nothing happened.’
The audience muttered and shuffled in their seats. Amelia paled, pursing her lips as she glared at Beth. There was a low murmur from the woman to her right. She leaned in close to her daughter, lips moving fast as she whispered in her ear. The back of her neck was flushed where it was exposed by her scraped-back hair. She turned, pressing her lips together as she glared at Beth. Despite this, the discomfort of other people’s fear was less than normal. The warmth Beth had felt a moment ago enveloped her, offering a layer of protection that allowed her to breathe.