Page 4 of The Legend of Lovers Hollow

I blink and scrutinise her costume. It’s rather obvious, but I answer anyway. “Dilys is the hollow tree.”

Dilys is standing in the centre back of the stage, having not moved a muscle through all the former chaos of her castmates’ mishap. She stares blankly ahead, her tiny, stooped body motionless. Paper leaves are stapled to her floral dress and pastel cardigan, but she’s still wearing her carpet slippers. In each hand she holds a twig.

“Is she okay?” Morgan frowns as he stares at our centennial bartender. “Has she died standing up?”

Rosie reaches out and tentatively nudges Dilys with one finger. For a moment, we all watch with bated breath to see if she keels over, but she swivels her eyes toward Rosie, the rest of her body held immobile.

“Um, I think we’re done, Dilys. You can move now,” Rosie tells her.

Dilys slowly hands Rosie the two twigs and painstakingly shuffles to the edge of the stage and down the steps, then heads towards the door.

“Well, as fun as it was to almost get pancaked by the housekeeping staff and the new waiter, I have to get back to the kitchen.” Aggie rattles down the stairs, still wearing the majority of her armour. “Welcome home, Morgan.” She nods as she passes by.

“I should get back to work too.” John the Maid, in all his six foot four, thickly muscled glory, lifts the hem of his gown with one hand and flicks his fan open with the other, fluttering it in front of his face as he descends the stairs with more grace than expected. “After all, this isn’tFantasia. Those rooms aren’t going to hoover and dust themselves.”

He nods to Morgan and follows Aggie out the door.

“I’ll go man the front desk in case any of the new guests arrive early.” Rosie smiles. “Good to have you back, sir.”

“I think I’ll have a bit of a re-write. I’m still not feeling the epic tragedy of it all.” Mr Pennington shakes his head and mutters as he trails after Rosie with his arms full of the loose papers he’s collected from the floor. “Nice to see you again, Morgan,” he adds absently as he passes by.

Finally, the door swings closed, and it’s just me and Morgan, who’s now turned his attention back to me.

“Let me just get this straight.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a pained sigh. “You thought the best way to save the hotel was to air my potential ancestors’ dirty laundry in a play put on by our motley crew of misfit hotel staff? A play written by a horror fiction author who’s been suffering with sporadic bouts of writer’s block?”

“Yes.” I smile widely.

“I still think you should have let us play the part of the ghostly lovers. We could do it so much more justice than you fleshies,” a familiar and snarky voice chimes in from beside us.

“With the added bonus of scaring the guests, of course,” another familiar but gruff voice adds.

“Oh, good. Bertie and Roger are here.” Morgan looks upward and sighs.

“That’s Aunt Bertie to you, lad,” our resident chief ghost says gruffly.

Morgan turns towards his deceased great-aunt several times over. His tone, when he speaks, is droll. “Must I?”

“Well, I suppose not. It’s more a request.”

Roger bounces on the toes of his neatly laced tennis shoes, his hand in the air. “Ooh, ooh, if we’re making requests, I request to call him Daddy.”

“No,” I say firmly, and he pouts.

“Spoilsport.” He huffs, his little blond moustache ruffling as he purses his lips sulkily.

“What are you doing here, Bertie?” Morgan frowns.

“I live here. Pay attention, lad.” Bertie tuts. “I swear, you’re getting as scatterbrained as that grandfather of yours. It comes down the male line, you know,” Bertie whispers to me. “They’re all like it, not as robust as the female line.”

“No.” Morgan rolls his eyes. “What are you doing here, in this room? I thought you’d been told to stop showing yourself to the living.”

“Pfft,” she scoffs, waving her hand. “We’re here to offer our help with Ellis’s ghost-hunting Valentine’s extravaganza.”

“Extravaganza?” Morgan turns back to me.

“Well, the play is only part of it. We’re making the Legend of Lovers Hollow a whole weekend event. On Valentine’s night, there’ll be a midnight ghost hunt out to the old hollow where the murders are supposed to have taken place, and Rosie’s planning a whole Valentine masked ball too. It’s going to be so much fun! Oh, we’re also doing a scavenger hunt and an escape room!”

He stares. “What are they escaping from?”