Nicola Jane - Follow Your Fantasy - Deeper

You shake your head at yourself and hitch your bag onto your shoulder. But even though you think you're overreacting, something makes you hesitate before approaching the building. You pause until the taxi has left, straighten your skirt up and fluff your hair to kill a few moments before approaching the doorway of the theatre. There's only one buzzer next to a metal door and darkened windows. You press and the door clicks open straight away. There can’t be anything suspicious going on in a place that doesn't even check to see who's trying to get in. You tell yourself that five times before pushing the door open and entering.

Weak lights flicker on when you find the switch before letting the door close behind you and you find yourself in front of an unmanned ticket booth with a glass screen. Tatty posters peel away from the walls and the floor has a stickiness that makes your feet feel dirty even through your shoes. You can't hear anyone.

You're alone, really alone where no-one can watch you for the first time since you got Josephine's jewels. Your bag is open in a split second and you peer into the envelope. The strings, as now you can see there are multiple threads of them, lie in a tangle and you look for somewhere you could tip them out onto. Maybe the ticket counter–

There's a cough behind you, back towards the door you came in by, and you jump with a scream and drop the package.

'Forgive me,' says a soft male voice. 'I never can resist that little piece of theatrics.'

You turn and see first only what you already know is there. A corridor with a closed door at the end and smooth walls, meaning no-one could have entered without you noticing. Then you register the outline of a man even as your eyes scan the walls again. He's improbably dressed for a ticket seller, and you'd have guessed him to be the magician just by what he's wearing. Even if he didn't have the ability to walk through walls.

He has a black top hat and his goatee-accentuated face is complete with monocle and a twirling moustache that can only be called whiskers. The rest of his clothes fit the look with a white shirt and a black frocked coat with, of course, a watch and chain looped across his stomach. A red flowered silk handkerchief peeks from the top pocket of his waistcoat. Showtime must be soon.

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