Page 53 of The Legend of Lovers Hollow

“What is all this machinery for?” Mrs Rose-Smythe asks.

“Just a few sensors and extra cameras,” Thad replies. “I’m afraid our production company insists upon it. We have to be seen to provide an objective and unbiased investigation.” He leans in and whispers to her conspiratorially, “Some of them just haven’t experienced the things we have and don’t see the world the way we do.”

“Hmm,” she huffs. “Sceptics.”

“Exactly.” Thad hits her with a smile that has her looking a bit flushed. “Now, may I steal you away from Ellis here for a moment, Mrs Rose-Smythe? I’d love to introduce you to my team. They’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

She gives him a gracious smile and takes the arm he offers. “Please, do call me Daphne, Dr Dalton.”

“I’d be honoured, and please feel free to call me Thaddeus.” He shoots me a wink over her shoulder and leads her away.

“Quite a good turnout, eh?” a voice booms next to me, and I jump, barely resisting the urge to press a hand to my chest as my heart begins to gallop.

“Will you stop doing that, Bertie?” I whisper, lifting my hand in an attempt to casually cover my mouth so no one can see my lips moving. “You practically gave me a heart attack.”

“I don’t know why people say that. A heart attack feels nothing like that. More a feeling of being hot and clammy, bit of a pain in the jaw.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask quietly.

She turns to look at me with a puzzled expression. “It’s a séance,” she says, as if that explains everything.

“Yes, but what are you doing here?”

“Ghosts are meant to put in an appearance at one of these shindigs. That’s the whole point of it, isn’t it? Be jolly rude not to.”

I sigh, because she’s sort of got a point, but it’s time to head this off before we end up with a repeat of this morning. Or even worse, a repeat of the murder mystery weekend.

“Bertie, we really appreciate all the dedication and effort you and the others are putting into the whole haunting theme, but I really need you to take a step back and tone it down,” I say and shift my hand to my chin momentarily. I hope I simply look pensive and not nauseous to anyone watching.

“By Jove, lad, why on earth would we do that?” she says incredulously.

“Because if you go to over the top, especially on camera, people will think it’s fake,” I explain, still keeping my hand over my mouth. “Can you just dial it down from a thousand to maybe a two point five?”

“Golly. That’s very boring.” She frowns and then sighs. “But I must admit, you might have a point. Maybe.” She ponders that. “Very well, we’ll be on our best behaviour.”

“Who’s we, exactly?” I ask, and Bertie nods in the direction of the table. Edwina is back to following Thad around like a very polite Edwardian stalker. Artie sits on the edge of the main desk, swinging his legs, and Leona is reclining on one of the sofas in the direct line of a camera. She’s fanning herself with her giant ostrich fan and making very coy eyes into the lens.

“Alright, four of you. That’s not too bad, I suppose.” My eyes narrow as a thought occurs to me. “Where’s Roger?”

“Oh, he’s on a top secret mission.” Bertie gives me a very exaggerated wink.

“What mission?”

“He’s keeping that Stanley fellow busy so we don’t get into trouble. I’m not sure exactly what they’re doing, but I haven’t seen either of them since yesterday at teatime.”

“What’s this?” Artie pokes at the EVP recorder next to him.

“Please don’t touch that.” I edge closer to him, hoping no one notices.

“But what does it do?”

“Apparently, it records spirit activity that the human ear can’t detect or something,” I explain. He grins wickedly and bends closer to it.

“Helloooooo,” he says directly into the device. The little light flickers. “Helllloooooo. You’re going to dieeeee.”

“Artie!” I say sharply.

“What?” He giggles. “I was only jokin’.”