Jonan’s gaze flicked back to the shadows, but the watcher had gone.
‘I have no time for this,’ Jonan said, his voice low. ‘Let me in or I will call the police.’
‘And tell them what?’
‘I will report a missing person, tell them that she was last seen in your theatre, and that you refuse to let me in to check. Are you that sure the theatre was empty when you left?’
Oliver froze. His jaw worked. He took a deep breath, and then his shoulders slumped. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll open the door, but you only have five minutes.’ He turned around and slipped the heavy key into the lock. It creaked as it turned. ‘Where do you think your friend might be?’
Jonan stepped through the door and into the small passageway. He shivered. Paint was peeling from the walls and the place smelled musty and damp. ‘She went into the auditorium.’
The man walked through the narrow corridors until he reached a low door. ‘This takes us to the stage. If your friend’s not in there…’ He shrugged.
Jonan walked through, peering into the darkness of the wings. ‘Are there lights?’
‘Of course.’ The room lit up, making Jonan squint, and then the lights flickered and went out.
‘Damn,’ Oliver muttered. ‘There should be a torch around here somewhere. These lights have a mind of their own.’ A moment later, he shoved a torch into Jonan’s hand and another flickered into life next to him.
Jonan stepped out onto the creaky boards, moving the beam slowly around the room. At the edge of the stage he stood still, peering into the shadows.
A shape flickered through his peripheral vision, but it vanished when he turned his head. He called in his guides and felt the room fill with light, pushing the visitors back.
‘Stop,’ the man said from behind him. ‘They belong here.’
Jonan turned. ‘You can see them?’
‘Did you think you were the only one?’ Oliver was standing as tall as he was able, pushing his chest out. His heavy eyebrows were pulled in as he glared at Jonan. ‘They’re not doing anyone any harm. I will not let you send them away from their home.’
‘Is that really what’s best for them?’ Jonan asked, spreading his hands. ‘These spirits are trapped. Haunting an old, crumbling theatre is no fate for anyone.’
‘They like it here. And I like having them.’
‘And there we have it,’ Jonan muttered, turning away. ‘I’ll only help those who ask.’
‘Jonan?’ The voice from the darkness was faint.
‘Beth?’ Jonan jumped off the stage, running in the direction of her voice.
He slowed as he saw her hunched against one of the exits. Her knees were pulled in to her chest, her arms hugged around her legs. She was shivering violently. Even in the dark her skin looked too pale.
Jonan crouched down in front of her. ‘What happened?’
He reached a hand towards her arm.
She flinched.
‘Please.’ His voice cracked. ‘I’d like to warm you up. You’re freezing.’
Beth nodded. She allowed him to pull her to his chest, but he could feel the shudders that wracked her body. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. It was like falling down a well of memories. They swarmed around in his mind as he tried to get some kind of control. He forced his arms to stay strong, to hold her without shaking as he tried to push the pain deep inside where she wouldn’t sense it. How long could he stay like this before he broke open, revealing the scars he tried so hard to hide? He didn’t know.
‘What is it, Jonan?’ she asked, her voice a little stronger. ‘Has something happened?’
‘Has something happened? You’ve been trapped in this place, alone, for hours. She left you in here with all of these…’
‘They didn’t do anything. Amelia is the one who poisoned this room.’
Jonan knew it. He felt it deep in his gut and the knowledge churned alongside the feeling of panic that came from her interference. Every instinct he had screamed at him to get out, but he knew the spirits would do nothing to hurt them. He had to give Beth a moment.
There was a cough from behind.
His shoulders tensed as he felt the man’s gaze boring into his back.
‘Are you done? I gave you five minutes.’
Jonan stood up, took his jacket off and wrapped it around Beth. He stepped towards Oliver, hands clenched into fists at his sides.
‘You allowed her to be locked in here, on her own.’
‘I had no idea your friend was in here.’
‘It’s your job to know who is in your theatre.’
Oliver paled. ‘Now look here—’
‘Stop!’ Beth stood up and leaned heavily on the wall behind her. ‘I can’t bear your bickering. I’m okay. We can go now.’
‘Are you sure?’ Jonan wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Now that he’d touched her, he craved more contact. The memories were so strong, so physical, that they made his heart split in two.
For a moment, Beth leaned into him. He felt her warmth seeping into his side and closed his eyes, memorising the feeling. The shabby theatre receded and he surrounded them in light. Beth’s energy surged.
‘Come on,’ he said, relieved his voice sounded steady. ‘I’m taking you to the hospital.’
Beth snorted. ‘What are you going to tell them? Yes, doctor, she was locked in an empty theatre and attacked by mean ghosts.’ She began to shake.
Ice froze Jonan in place. His mind fogged and screams bounced around in his head. The stab of fear was so familiar, so brutally shocking, that for a moment he couldn’t move.
‘Oh, for goodness sake.’ Oliver’s voice cut through the fog. ‘She’s laughing, man. Calm yourself. She’s not a china doll.’
Jonan closed his eyes, forcing himself to breath more slowly. ‘She’s laughing,’ he said with a grimace. ‘I’d almost forgotten laughing existed. This day is just too weird. Amelia must be getting to me too.’
‘Please take me home, Jonan.’
The last thing Jonan wanted to do was bid a civilised goodbye to Oliver, but it seemed to be the only thing he could do for Beth right now, so he followed the man outside, making small talk as though nothing had happened.
Only when they had walked away from the man and left the theatre well and truly behind did he feel he could breathe.
The tube train was busy, but a woman took one look at Beth, pale and slumped, and offered her seat. Jonan knew he was over-effusive in his thanks, but he didn’t care. He spent the journey on autopilot, focusing on the colour of Beth’s skin, the glassiness of her eyes and the sluggish drag of her feet. When the train pulled into St Albans station, he couldn’t quite remember how they had got there, and mentally sent thanks to all the souls who had helped them on their way.
His car was waiting in the car park, cold, but still comforting. Beth climbed in, hugging his jacket around her. He forced himself not to shiver, liking the sight of her in his coat.
He drove to his usual parking space and slid in neatly, his car close to the raised pavement on one side of the narrow road.
‘I thought you were taking me home?’
‘Not a chance. I agreed not to take you to the hospital, but I want to keep an eye on you myself. You can have my room tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll sleep on the sofa.’