The Secrets of Ghosts (9 page)

Wrap it up, buddy, she thought. The emotions that came through during weddings were not always the ones you expected. Katie stopped staring at the carnage and turned to see if the MOP had any way of influencing the best man, but the girl had gone.

*

By the end of the shift, Katie was exhausted. The heat, combined with not sleeping well, made her feel like a zombie.

Outside, she found Max sitting on a low wall. He stood up as she approached and put his hands in his pockets.

‘Hello, again.’ Katie tried not to be pleased to see him. ‘You’re too late for the buffet.’

‘I know.’ Max flashed his boyish grin. The one that had probably been getting him out of trouble since he was a toddler. ‘I was waiting for you.’

Katie stamped on the burst of excitement that flared in her stomach.

‘I actually wanted to ask a favour.’

‘Ah,’ Katie said.

Anna came out of the staff door, pulling car keys out of her shoulder bag. ‘Do you want a lift anywhere?’ She caught sight of Max. ‘Hello, again.’

‘No, thanks,’ Katie said. ‘Anna, this is Max. He was at the Cole wedding.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Anna said.

‘It’s fine,’ Max said.

‘He crashed the wedding,’ Katie said. ‘So he’s not bereaved.’

‘Oh, good.’ Anna looked confused. ‘I suppose.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ Max said. ‘Again.’

‘Likewise.’ Anna tilted her head slightly, appraising him. ‘You don’t live in Pendleford, do you?’

‘Just passing through,’ Max said.

‘Lucky for you,’ Anna said cheerfully. ‘Are you sure I can’t give you two a lift somewhere?’

‘We’re fine, thank you,’ Katie said. Ignoring the significant way Anna was looking at her.

After Anna had walked away, towards the staff car parking area, Katie turned to Max. ‘A favour?’

‘I was hoping you’d let me into that room again. The door was open before but someone has locked it.’

‘Probably because of the dodgy types hanging around,’ Katie said. ‘I’m not going to help you find money. I told you—’

‘It’s not that. I’m curious about what happened earlier. I wanted to take another look.’

‘Why?’

‘It might’ve been a ghost,’ Max said. ‘That’d be pretty cool.’

Katie crossed her arms. ‘Are you going to tell me the real reason?’ She waited for a moment and when Max didn’t elaborate, she said, ‘I don’t think I should. I don’t know you.’

‘Fair enough.’ Max shrugged. He began walking around the side of the hotel.

Katie followed. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Taking a look from the outside. Looking for wires or something rigged up that could’ve caused that effect with the curtains.’

Max stopped on the lawn and took several steps backwards, shading his eyes from the sun with one hand. ‘Is that it?’

The window of The Yellow Room was on the second floor. It had one of the tiny balconies with thick stonework around the edge. Katie saw the window darken and she looked up at the sky, expecting a cloud to have crossed the sun. It hadn’t.

‘Nothing,’ Max said. ‘And I’m not climbing up there.’

He lay down on the grass and crossed his hands behind his head. ‘It’s too hot for one thing.’

Katie sat cross-legged next to him and then, feeling stupid for being so hesitant, lay down on the grass, a few inches of space between them. They were in a very public place, in broad daylight; there was nothing to worry about.

She put an arm across her face, shielding her from the sun.

‘That room we were in?’ Max said, his voice super-casual. ‘Is it going to be Barton’s when he arrives?’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Just a guess.’

‘But you know he’s coming here for a show?’

Max looked embarrassed. ‘Yeah. I don’t suppose you can get me a discount on a ticket?’

‘Not my area,’ Katie said. ‘I thought you were just passing through.’

Max propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. ‘Can I be honest with you?’

‘I don’t know,’ Katie said, moving her arm so that she could look at him. ‘Experience suggests not.’

He straightened up. ‘Wow. You’re really uptight, aren’t you?’

‘I’m big on honesty.’ Katie shrugged. ‘It’s my thing.’

‘Okay, then.’ Max folded his arms. ‘I wasn’t just passing. I came to see Greg Barton.’

‘The medium?’ Katie tried to think of something polite to add. ‘I’m surprised,’ she managed. ‘You don’t seem the type.’

‘I’m not. Usually.’ Max said. ‘But I’m very interested in Mr Barton. I’d like to know more about him. You know, the man behind the show. His friends, his habits. If you could keep an eye on him for me when he checks in, let me know if—’

Katie moved back a little. ‘I can’t do that. I can’t spy on a customer. That isn’t right.’

‘He’s a public figure,’ Max said. ‘And a hotel is a public space.’

‘That’s not really true. Some parts of a hotel are public, some are extremely private. Plus, I can’t trust you. You could be up to something illegal. I already know you’re a liar.’

‘Of course you can’t — you just met me. Trust has to be earned.’

‘That sounds almost noble.’ Of course, he was a smooth-talking bastard. He would make it sound good.

‘If you trust a person you’ve just met, that doesn’t mean the person is trustworthy. It means that you’re an idiot.’ Max was clearly warming to his theme. ‘There are two sorts of people in this world: mugs and marks.’

‘Aren’t they the same thing?’ Katie leaned forward, interested despite her best intentions.

‘No,’ Max said seriously. He watched her intently as he spoke, as if it really mattered to him that she understood. ‘Marks aren’t necessarily stupid. The best marks aren’t stupid at all. You need someone with the intelligence to see the possibilities. You can trick a mug, but for a con you need a mark. Marks are a little bit twisted. They have to be willing to do something they know is a bit dodgy because they want a part of the score being offered. That’s why cons aren’t often reported — the mark knows that telling the story will reveal his own part in it. That’s what makes cons so beautiful.’

‘There can’t just be mugs or marks,’ Katie said, forcing herself to look away. ‘That’s very bleak.’

‘There are grifters, too,’ Max said. ‘Probably honest-to-God nun-types, too, but I’ve never met any.’

‘You’ve never met a good person? You really are hanging out in the wrong places.’

‘Nobody is pure as the driven snow. We’re all living in the shades.’ Max shrugged. ‘I’ve never met someone who wasn’t at least a little bit bent.’

Katie shook her head. ‘My aunt Gwen isn’t bent. Not even a little bit. She’s always helping people. It’s like, literally, her life’s work.’

‘I’m not going to comment on your family,’ Max said. ‘I’m not that stupid.’

‘And what about nurses and those people who volunteer in Africa?’

‘I didn’t say people can’t do good things. People do good things all the time, but that doesn’t make them good.’

‘But we are just actions — there isn’t anything else. If you do good things you are good, if you do bad things, you are bad. That’s how it works.’

‘What about intention? What if you mean to do something good but it goes badly? Does that make you a bad person?’

‘I don’t—’

‘And what about if you do bad things and good things? That’s the usual thing.’

‘You have to weigh them up,’ Katie said. ‘Some bad things are worse than others. If someone does loads of brilliant things and saves lives and stuff and then they nick a Mars bar from a shop, that doesn’t cancel out all the good stuff.’

‘Just makes a tiny dent in it?’

‘Exactly.’

‘And what if someone does something really bad? Can they cancel it out if they do enough good stuff afterwards?’

‘Maybe,’ Katie said.

Max smiled widely, genuinely amused. ‘You believe in redemption?’

‘Yes,’ Katie said, irritated. ‘Absolutely.’

Max shook his head. ‘You’re too nice.’

‘I’m really not. Redemption isn’t the same as forgiveness.’

‘So, if I do lots of good stuff, you still won’t forgive me for lying to you?’

‘Oh.’ Katie stayed very still while she thought about it. ‘How good?’

Max smiled and she felt a low hum begin in her stomach.

‘Like, maybe, kiss you,’ Max said. At once, his face seemed very close. He wasn’t leaning, though. Wasn’t touching her at all. He was just sitting next to her and staring at her with such intensity, as if his whole life depended on touching her lips with his own, as if she were the centre of his universe. ‘May I?’

Katie thought that nobody had ever looked at her that way. Then she realised that she wasn’t breathing and took a gulp of air. When she managed to speak she had to clear her throat to stop it coming out all croaky. ‘I don’t know you. I don’t kiss people I don’t know.’

‘But you want to kiss me?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘Interesting.’ Max tilted his head, as if considering her. ‘If you never kiss anyone you don’t know, how do you get to know people?’

‘Talking. Words. You know, the usual way,’ Katie said. His confidence was making her feel more in control. If he carried on annoying her she wouldn’t feel dangerously lustful.

‘Kissing is quicker.’ He smiled. ‘You can tell a lot about a person from the way they kiss.’

Without meaning to, Katie thought about Stuart. Her first — and only — boyfriend. He had taken the advice to be gentle a little too much to heart and prefaced kissing sessions with a hundred or so tiny, feather-light touches to her lips, cheeks, chin. Every Single Time. It had been like foreplay performed by a butterfly. Katie felt her cheeks flush. To cover her embarrassment she said, ‘You can tell a lot more from the total shite a person will say in order to cop a feel.’

He grinned. ‘This is true.’

That smile punched her in the stomach. If she didn’t move away, get distracted, right at this second she was going to take him up on his offer. What would kissing Max be like? She’d lay money it wasn’t like a butterfly.

His smile widened, as if he knew what she was thinking. He leaned forwards, tilting his face to hers. ‘Why don’t you live a little?’ He smelled of clean skin and sunshine and that indefinable bloke smell. He put a hand on her jaw, angling her face and then stopped, raising his eyebrows slightly in a way that asked for permission.

She tilted her head and leaned forward a fraction, closing her eyes so that she didn’t have to look at his expression.

His lips on hers were firm and the pressure of them made every nerve in her body crackle into life. Katie opened her mouth and tasted his. She felt as if she were melting into the ground, everything in her body liquefying. She put her hand on Max’s cheek and felt that it was the perfect shape of a face, something that her hand had been waiting to touch for years.

Max was still leaning across, not touching her body in any way, and Katie was simultaneously glad and disappointed by his restraint.

He broke the kiss and smiled at her in a dizzy-making way. Katie resisted the urge to grab the front of his T-shirt and haul him on top of her. Barely. Instead she reached up and pulled him back down, capturing his mouth, testing to see if that first kiss had been a fluke. She was nothing if not scientific.

It was better. Max really was excellent at kissing. Not that she’d had that much experience, which, now she thought of it, was the perfect justification for necking with a complete stranger.

She felt his hand on her waist and then running up her side.

Panic washed over her.

Katie pulled away, her lust-drunk feelings draining away in a single moment of cold clarity. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I can’t.’

‘That’s okay,’ Max said. He moved away, lay back on his back and folded his arms behind his head.

‘I mean, I don’t know you.’

‘No problem.’

It was annoying how cool he was.

Katie opened her mouth to say something else when there was a whistling sound and a massive crash. One of the large china urns from the balcony smashed into the ground inches from where they were lying.

‘Fuck!’ Max put a hand to his cheek and brought it away bright red. He looked at Katie. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Fine.’ Katie got to her feet. She looked up to the balcony but there was no one there. The window was shut.

‘How the—?’

‘I don’t know,’ Katie said. She frowned at the sky, then got up to inspect the broken pieces of urn.

‘You’re shaking,’ Max said. ‘It’s the shock.

‘I’m fine,’ Katie said. Her mind was racing. Had she done it? Telekinesis wasn’t a power she’d even considered coming into, but who was to say it wasn’t possible? And she’d seen it with her own eyes. Although, if she’d done it, why had it been aimed at Max’s head? She looked at him. Did she sub-consciously want to hurt him? Had she felt threatened or something?

‘You should sit down. You’re a bit pale.’ His cheek was bleeding freely, giving a grisly cast to his unshaven chin, but his eyes were filled with honest concern. No. She was fairly sure she didn’t want to stove anybody’s skull in and definitely not Max’s. It was too pretty.

‘I’m pretty sure I didn’t do it,’ Katie began, ‘but—’

‘What?’ Max looked at her as if she were crazy. ‘Of course you didn’t. Someone must be up there.’ He looked up, hands on hips. ‘There’s no wind or anything. The window looks closed from here, though—’

‘What if I did?’ Katie was panicking, and the words were out before she could stop them.

Max stopped staring at the window and treated Katie to a long, sceptical look. ‘You think you can move objects with your mind.’

‘Telekinesis. It’s a thing.’

‘It’s a made-up thing, yes.’

‘If you knew my family, you wouldn’t be so sure,’ Katie said, under her breath.

‘Okay.’ Max shrugged. ‘Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that it was you. Did you feel anything while it was happening? I mean, apart from being incredibly turned on by my amazing moves.’

‘Funny guy.’ Katie was determined not to blush. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of ruffling her. He was insufferably confident. Maybe she had wanted to hit him over the head, after all.

Max was back to staring up at the window. ‘It’s weird that it came from the same room. Maybe it’s a warning.’