‘I’m a salesman. I sell your expertise. I’ve never organised an event in my life.’
‘But I thought…’
He shrugged. ‘Yes, well. I may have exaggerated my experience slightly. But I knew I could do this job. I’m not supposed to do yours as well.’
Beth took a deep breath. His fear was pounding at her temples and she was finding it hard to hold her focus. ‘So you haven’t worked on events at all?’
‘I have, but I supported the people planning the events. I didn’t run them myself.’
‘You supported them by…?’
‘Admin mainly.’ Charlie looked down at the desk, not meeting her eye.
‘And central management don’t know this?’
‘As I said, I’m a good salesman.’ Charlie smirked.
Beth groaned. ‘Don’t look so pleased with yourself. You’re in it deep now. You haven’t got a clue, you’ve fired everyone apart from me, and Amelia hates me.’
‘That pretty much sums it up.’ The smirk was gone. Charlie’s forehead creased as he chewed his lip. His hands were clasped together on the desk. He did nothing to hide their shaking. ‘Can you fix it for me?’
‘I’m off the project. I need to find a new job.’ An image of the Third Eye flickered through her mind. She hoped Jonan had been serious when he suggested she could work there. It wasn’t the way she’d imagined her career panning out but, in this moment, it felt like a safe haven.
‘You can’t be off the project.’ His voice was high pitched. ‘You have to help me. I’m finished without you.’
‘Amelia will know.’
Charlie’s chin wobbled.
Beth sighed. The image of the Third Eye flickered, and then was gone. ‘Okay, I’ll do it, but you have to help me. I’ll coach you on how to manage this. I’m not doing all the work and giving you the credit.
‘Anything,’ Charlie said.
‘And no vetting the guest list. I won’t make those kinds of concessions to that woman.’
Charlie paled. He let out a long, controlled breath, and then nodded. ‘Whatever you need. And thank you.’
‘Here’s the file.’ Beth dumped it on Charlie’s desk. ‘Read it. Come up with your own ideas and we can go through them later. I have to go out.’
‘But…’ Charlie stood up; his eyes glistened. ‘You can’t leave me.’
‘Yes. Yes, I can and I will. Learn the file. I’ll be back later.’
She grabbed her bag and bolted through the door. She heard Charlie calling, but didn’t look back.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Beth
‘Welcome to The News at Eight.’ The presenter stood on a blustery street. She pushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear away from the reach of the wind. ‘Three weeks ago, Spirits were confined to spooky Halloween stories, but in record time the threat posed by our unseen visitors has become accepted reality. Today we are in Central London, outside the theatre where renowned super-model, It girl and thought-leader Amelia Faustus explained the measures we should all be taking to protect ourselves.’
She turned at an angle from the camera and thrust the microphone into a woman’s face. The woman jolted backwards, her eyes widening, and then flushed at the over-reaction. She looked into the camera, her gaze darting around, looking for threats, and cleared her throat.
The presenter gave a tight smile. ‘You were in the auditorium when Amelia made her latest announcement. Have you changed your behaviour in light of what she said?’
‘Oh yes.’ The woman cleared her throat again. ‘I am far more careful who I speak to now, and I keep my children away from anyone who seems odd.’
The presenter tilted her head to one side. ‘What do you mean by odd?’
‘I mean unfamiliar, strange. Anyone who does not look and act like us.’
The presenter took a small step back. ‘It has been claimed by some that Amelia’s announcement has led to a rise in hate crimes against minorities. Do you have any thoughts on this?’
‘I’m not prejudiced; I never have been. But we have to face facts. There is something out there and it targets certain people. We can only keep ourselves safe by remaining vigilant and staying away from anyone who is different or strange.’
The presenter nodded, frowning. ‘I’m so pleased you mentioned facts, because I am struggling to find any. If you could share your sources with us, I know we would all be far better placed to protect ourselves.’
The woman stepped back, her eyes wide. ‘Amelia is my source. What else do I need?’
The journalist held up a hand. ‘Of course, thank you.’
The picture panned out to show a greying man with red-rimmed eyes standing on the other side of the presenter.
‘Sir, can you tell me how Amelia’s announcement has impacted you?’
‘’Have to stay safe,’ he muttered, looking into the camera and then away. ‘But how? How do we keep away from a threat we can’t see? Anyone could be infected. Anyone could be a risk.’ He looked the presenter up and down, and then inched backwards, before turning and scuttling off down the street.
She stared after him, her face impassive. ‘And there’s the rub. How does anyone know how to keep themselves safe?’
‘I can tell you.’ A girl walked up, long skirts flowing to her ankles, her hair hanging loose to her waist. ‘This woman, this Amelia, has poisoned people with her fear. They are punishing those they have lived with happily for decades. Those of us who don’t fit the mould are suddenly viewed with suspicion. I had a brick thrown through my window last night. It narrowly missed my eighty-year-old grandmother. How can that be excused in any way? Amelia is poison. She has to be stopped.’
‘You have to be stopped,’ a voice yelled from the other side of the street. ‘Weirdos like you need to be put in your place so you stop infecting society. You need to sort yourselves out or get out.’
The girl pursed her lips. ‘You see? This is what it’s like, but this is the very least of it. Please don’t just follow this woman. Please, hold on to your sense of what is right and wrong.’
The picture cut out.
The newsreader in the studio was still shuffling papers. His eyes widened, but he put the pile down and cleared his throat.
‘How have you changed your own behaviour in the wake of the recent revelations? We would love to hear from you. Please do send us your stories and pictures. Now for today’s other news…’
‘Wow, the woman with the big skirt has lost the plot,’ Laura said, stuffing crisps into her mouth. She shuffled round, propping her legs up on the sofa and sliding down to lean her head on the armrest. ‘I’d kill to spend time with Amelia. You’re so lucky to have met her.’
‘Laura, you have no idea what you’re talking about. Amelia is not what she seems.’
‘Nobody ever is, but she’s got more about her than anyone I’ve come into contact with. Plus, there aren’t many celebrities who’d put their names on the line like she’s doing. I should know. I work with them every day at the studio. And she is getting loads of flak.’