Sarah Painter - The Secrets Of Ghosts

‘Charming,’ Katie said, her anger matching Gwen’s. ‘What else was I supposed to do?’

‘You need to be more careful.’

‘I’m always careful,’ Katie said.

‘I’ll look into it.’ Gwen passed a hand over her eyes. ‘There might be someone who’ll know.’

‘Not Gloria.’

Gwen shook her head. ‘I won’t tell her, yet. I need to figure this out, first. Figure out what this means.’ She grabbed Katie’s hand. ‘Don’t tell anybody else.’

‘So, do I look for his watch? I feel like he’s asking for my help.’

‘No. Don’t do anything.’

‘But—’

‘It’s probably not him. It’s probably a curse or a hex or a rebalancing. This is not your power,’ Gwen said. ‘It can’t be.’

Katie felt the disappointment. She was a victim again. Cursed. Or whatever. She was so careful, she trained hard, she’d read Culpeper’s Herbal and The Modern Herbalist and everything else Gwen told her to read. She took notes in an A4 binder and never tried any magic unsupervised. She followed every rule Gwen gave her and now, when something had finally happened, Gwen was telling her to ignore it.

‘Sit tight and don’t do anything. I’ll sort it out.’ Gwen pulled her in for a quick hug. ‘And if you see a magpie, put your fingers in your ears.’

‘Are you being serious?’ Katie’s disappointment was rapidly growing into irritation. Gwen was dismissing her. It was like talking to her mother all over again.

‘I’m completely serious. If this is a side effect of some kind, you’ve got to resist it.’

‘Fine,’ Katie said. ‘I’ve got to go to work. I’m late.’ She headed for the back door.

‘I think you should stay away from that place. Just until things settle down.’

‘It’s where I work,’ Katie said. She kissed Gwen’s cheek and headed for the back door. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t do anything stupid.’

*

Katie crept along the upstairs passageway. She knew there weren’t any guests in the rooms and she’d checked the time sheet for housekeeping and they should’ve completed the rooms on this floor. She flipped all the lights on and headed straight for The Yellow Room. The yellow police tape had been removed as per Patrick’s instructions. Not letting herself hesitate, or think about what she was doing too much, she unlocked the door and slipped inside.

The room had been thoroughly cleaned since the incident. Housekeeping had done a bang-up job and the room looked just as it had on the day before Oliver Cole checked in, although someone had obviously knocked the thermostat as the room was freezing. She checked the en suite, not really sure of what she was doing, what she expected to find. The toiletries had been replaced, the loo roll was folded to a point, and the sink sparkled. Katie caught sight of herself in the over-sink mirror and grimaced. Pale skin, dark circles around her eyes and cracked lips. A frightening sight.

A sound from the bedroom made Katie’s heart rate kick up. The door had been pushed open and there were footsteps, muffled on the carpet. Katie looked around wildly. She picked up the only portable item that wasn’t a travel-size bottle of shampoo and edged to the doorway. A slice of the room was visible and she saw a male shape.

‘Argh!’ Katie sprang out of the bathroom, brandishing the toilet brush.

‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’ Max spun round.

‘What are you doing in here?’ Katie felt ridiculous, which made her furious.

‘What were you going to do with that?’ Max pointed at the brush. He stepped forward, frowning. ‘Is that a—?’

Katie turned around smartly and stashed the toilet brush back in its rightful place. She washed her hands to give herself a moment to regroup, then ventured out to find Max on the floor, peering underneath the bed.

‘What are you doing?’

He shuffled backwards. ‘They’ve cleared out this place, then.’

‘Apparently,’ Katie said. ‘What’s it got to do with you?’ Then realisation dawned. ‘You wanted to look through his stuff.’

‘Don’t you?’ Max stood up, brushing down his jeans.

‘No!’ Katie said. The window was draped with heavy velvet curtains and they weren’t fully shut. There was a section of sheer voile visible in the gap and it was rippling, distracting Katie. She crossed the room to shut the window but it was firmly closed. Up close the voile stopped moving and she wondered if it had been a trick of the light. She turned to find Max disturbingly close. ‘You can’t be in here. You’re a MOP.’

‘I just want to check a couple of things.’ He shook the velvet curtains and then began searching the furniture — the bedside cabinet, the wardrobe, the chest of drawers.

‘It’s been cleared. His stuff is gone. It’ll be with the police. Or his family.’

‘Damn it.’ Max had pulled the bottom drawer of the chest completely out and was up to his shoulder as he searched the space. ‘Sometimes things slip down.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘Or, paranoid types tape their cash in unlikely places.’

‘If you find anything, you’ll have to hand it in. It’s stealing.’

Max looked over his shoulder, affronted. ‘I’m no thief. It’s my money I’m after.’

‘But he’s dead. He can’t pay you now.’

Max shook his head. ‘It’s my money. It’s a point of honour to pay your debts in poker. It’s the worst thing not to. I’m saving him from ignominy.’

Katie ignored the shiver that a good-looking guy using words like ‘ignominy’ gave her. She was going to keep her head. He was dodgy. And arrogant. And annoying. ‘It’s not right,’ she said.

‘Neither is not paying your gambling debt,’ Max said. ‘You play, you pay.’

‘But the man has passed away.’ Katie felt she was dangerously close to sounding like a Monty Python sketch, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘He can’t give you the money because he is no longer with us. He’s dead.’ She managed not to add that he was an ‘ex-person’.

Max shrugged. ‘Some things transcend death.’

‘I can’t believe you,’ Katie said, revelling in the moral high ground. ‘A man has died.’

He was on tiptoe, now, running his hands along the picture rail. His T-shirt rode up and there was a glimpse of bare skin.

Katie looked away.

I didn’t say I didn’t care. I hardly knew the guy but I’m sorry and all that. I just want to conclude my business with him and be on my way.’

‘Well, you can’t.’ Katie was suddenly very glad of Patrick’s efficiency. ‘You’ll have to speak to his family or something. Maybe they’ll honour his debt. You never know.’

Max finished with the picture rail but was still looking around in a distracted manner. Katie thought that he’d zoned out of their conversation and was about to say something when he looked at her in a disconcertingly direct way. ‘I didn’t get the impression that his wife was all that forgiving of his gambling habit. I’m not sure she even knew.’

‘And you’re squeamish about that? Rifle through a dead man’s things, fine. Talk to his wife, no thanks.’

‘Widow. And, no, I don’t see the point in upsetting her. Upsetting her more, I mean. And it was his secret to keep or reveal, not mine.’

‘I think your moral compass is a bit off.’

‘I think you’re money-obsessed.’

‘What?’

‘You’re the one putting a man’s money over his feelings.’

‘How d’you know he didn’t have very strong feelings about his money?’ Katie shot back.

Max grinned. ‘Fun as this is, I’ve got to go. Don’t suppose you know of any poker games going on around here? Or blackjack?’

‘In Pendleford? Not likely.’