Simon Green - Ghost of a Dream

“He did come across a bit Central Casting,” said Elizabeth. “But you know, that might not necessarily be a bad thing, darling. We could use a little useful publicity, to get the theatre’s reopening noticed…If we play this right…”

Old Tom poked his head back through the door. “Is there a problem, ladies and gents?”

“What have you heard about the…current conditions?” said JC.

“The dead tramp and the hauntings?” Old Tom tried out his roguish wink again and laid one finger along the side of his nose. “I’ve worked here man and boy, sir, and never seen a thing. Take more than a few rumours to keep me out. I ain’t afraid of no ghost!” He chuckled silently for a moment, enjoying his little joke. “You come along with me, ladies and gents. Old Tom’ll see nothing happens to you! There’s nothing to be scared of here…”

He disappeared back through his door again, and the others hurried after him, JC making a point of leading the way. Melody briefly glanced back at her instruments, then shrugged angrily and went along with the others. The door swung quietly shut behind them. Silence and shadows held sway in the empty lobby. And then the intercom speakers turned themselves on. For a while, there was nothing but the quiet hissing of static; and then, a voice.

“Welcome back, my friends, to the opening night of a brand-new production. Seats available at all prices. The curtain is going up. Prepare yourselves…for a show you’ll never forget.”

When an audience comes to the theatre, all they usually see is the lobby and the stage. They may notice, in passing, the Ticket Office…posters on the walls, maybe some concession stands, but that’s it. But what an audience sees is only ever the tip of the iceberg; most of the work and most of the world of the theatre is the nine-tenths of the iceberg that remains hidden from view. For the same reason that most patrons never get to see the kitchens of the restaurants they visit. Because if you could see what went on behind the scenes, what really goes into everything, all the illusion and glamour would be stripped away in a moment. Acting is like athletics—a lot of effort goes into making it all seem effortless.

So getting from the lobby to the stage isn’t always a straightforward affair. Old Tom led them all through a warren of narrow backstage corridors, so they could see everything there was to see, cheerfully pointing out all the various points of interest. Everything from dressing-rooms to costumes to props…Everyone was very polite, of course, while silently wishing he’d get a move on. JC did his best to keep an eye out for signs and landmarks, so he could be sure of finding his way around on his own if the need arose. But most of the signs had been taken down long ago, and all the doors and all the corridors looked eerily alike. JC quickly lost all track of where he was, or even in which direction the lobby lay. He looked across at Benjamin and immediately realised that the actor looked as lost as he did. JC fell in beside him.

“Something wrong?” he said quietly.

“I’m not sure,” said Benjamin, frowning. “It’s just…I don’t remember its taking this long to get to the stage, back in my day. And I’m almost sure the layout was never this complicated. It almost feels like we’re going round and round in circles.”

Elizabeth nodded vigorously. “I do have to wonder, darling, whether Old Tom is so far gone that he doesn’t actually remember where he’s going and is too proud to admit it. Or even…if he isn’t really the caretaker he claims to be and some journalist trying to bluff his way through. Or could he be deliberately trying to disorientate us? I don’t know what’s going on here, Benjamin, but I don’t like it. Something doesn’t feel right.”

JC left Benjamin and Elizabeth muttering uneasily together and fell back to walk with Happy and Melody. Happy was scowling even more fiercely than usual.

“Something is definitely not kosher with these corridors, JC. The amount of time we’ve spent walking, we should be through the back of the theatre and half-way down the street. It feels to me…as though there’s more space here than there should be. As though the local geometry isn’t as properly nailed down at the corners as it should be.”

“I wouldn’t argue with that,” murmured JC. “This whole theatre feels wrong to me.”

“Maybe we should start leaving a trail of bread-crumbs,” suggested Melody.

As she was saying that, Old Tom took a sharp right turn, led them up some steps, and out onto the main stage. All the lights were on, bathing the entire massive stage in a fierce illumination. Everyone stood together, blinking through the harsh glare at the gloom of the massive auditorium, laid out before them. It was like standing on an island of light, peering out at a sea of darkness.

“Who the hell left all these lights on?” said Elizabeth. “The workmen assured me that everything had been turned off when they left! I really don’t need the theatre’s owners adding their energy bills to our running costs.”

“There weren’t any lights on in the lobby,” observed JC.

“So why are they on here?” said Benjamin.

He strode forward across the stage, Elizabeth sticking close beside him. Lissa wandered after them, smiling happily about her as though she was finally where she belonged. Old Tom stayed by the wings, at the far side of the stage, as though he knew his place and wasn’t prepared to venture beyond it. JC moved cautiously forward. To his surprise, he found he didn’t like being on stage. It felt too open, too exposed, too vulnerable. He glared out into the shadowy auditorium, and the rows upon rows of empty seats stared silently back at him. JC knew what the workmen meant, now, when they talked of being watched by unseen, unfriendly eyes. He slipped his heavy sunglasses down his nose, so he could peer over the top of them, but even his augmented eyes couldn’t make out anything useful. He pushed the glasses back up his nose again. He didn’t want his glowing eyes to freak out the civilians; and he was getting really fed up with having to come up with clever answers to distract them.

Happy and Melody stuck close together, braced and ready for an attack that never came.

“Must bring back memories, eh?” Old Tom said cheerfully to Benjamin and Elizabeth. “All the plays you appeared in, all the characters you played; must feel like coming home. I suppose.”

Benjamin and Elizabeth walked to the very front of the stage, as though drawn there. They stood arm in arm, looking out into the Past, smiling reflectively.

“This was our kingdom, once upon a time,” said Benjamin. “Where we were Kings and Queens, angry young men and femmes fatales…We played Shakespeare and Marlowe, Becket and Brecht, Oscar Wilde and George Bernard Shaw, bless his declamatory speeches…Hell, we did it all, didn’t we girl, one time or another. For everything from standing ovations to sullen silences. Because you can’t please all the people all of the time, the ungrateful bastards…”

“I sometimes think we had more fun backstage,” said Elizabeth. “Applause is what it’s all about, of course; but there’s more to theatre than the smell of the crowds and the roar of the grease-paint. For happy times and camaraderie, give me a theatre bar any day. Do you remember the one time we did the Scottish play.”

“Ah, the Caledonian Tragedy,” said Benjamin.

“Do you by any chance mean Macbeth ?” JC said innocently.

Everyone except the Ghost Finders winced.

“Please,” said Benjamin, with all the dignity he could muster. “Don’t do that. It’s unlucky.”

“And I really don’t think we’re in any position to push our luck at the moment,” said Elizabeth.