Ghost Song by Sarah Rayne Read Free Book Online

corners.
    â€˜It isn’t anywhere near as unsavoury as I thought it would be,’ said Hilary, shining the torch.
    â€˜It’d be very unsavoury if we were caught trespassing,’ said Robert.
    â€˜We aren’t trespassing. This is a public thoroughfare and we’ve got the keys to the building.’
    â€˜Good. Remember that argument when we’re in Bow Street, will you? The stage door’s at the far end.’
    â€˜Yes, I see it.’ Hilary shone the torch. ‘There’s something carved into the stone over the door—can you see what it says?’
    â€˜It says, “Please one and please all, be they great, be they small”.’
    â€˜Nice,’ said Hilary approvingly. ‘I wonder where it’s from and who put it there.’
    â€˜Your ghost, perhaps.’
    â€˜Somehow I think it’s older than the ghost. Or are ghosts ageless?’
    â€˜Whatever they are, let’s hope we don’t meet any tonight.’
    â€˜What’s beyond the alley?’
    â€˜A ten-foot-high wall. It separates this plot from Candle Square and all those little streets leading off.’
    As Robert opened the stage door, Hilary did not exactly shiver, but as they stepped inside she hunched her shoulders as if suddenly cold, and dug her hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket. He locked the door, and shone the torch into the swirling darkness. ‘The room on the right would have been for a porter or a doorman, I think,’ he said.
    â€˜It was a doorman who told the ghost story to the old actor,’ said Hilary. ‘Bob Shilling. He said he wouldn’t come in here by night for a hundred pounds.’
    â€˜I’d rather you hadn’t reminded me of that. Further along this corridor there’s a side passage with stone steps leading down to the cellars.’
    â€˜Which is where the mysterious wall is?’
    â€˜Yes. I’m assuming you don’t actually want to see it tonight?’
    â€˜Well, perhaps we could do that in daylight,’ said Hilary, glancing to where the steps went down into a well of blackness.
    â€˜We can get through to the foyer this way,’ said Robert. ‘It takes us along past cloakrooms and the old Oyster Bar.’
    â€˜That’s evocative, isn’t it? Oyster Bar. Gentlemen in evening dress wolfing down oysters, and making a play for chorus girls. Very 1890s.’
    If the Tarleton’s ghosts had been mildly inquisitive when Robert carried out his survey, on a dark rainy night with only a couple of torches for light and semi-stolen keys for access, they were very nearly aggressive. They’re not liking this, he thought as they walked along, their footsteps echoing. They’re used to people coming in occasionally in daylight, but if they’re disturbed when night falls they close ranks because of guarding the secrets…
    â€˜I thought the foyer would be bigger,’ said Hilary as they went through a heavy swing door, the torch creating a triangle of light. ‘But then Drury Lane’s foyer isn’t very big, so if it’s good enough for— What’s up there?’
    â€˜Stairs to the dress circle. Over there, on the left, is the equivalent of the box office, and the door to the main auditorium’s straight ahead. Sorry if I’m starting to sound like a coach-tour operator.’
    Robert pushed the auditorium door open; it was on a swing mechanism which protested a bit but opened reasonably easily. Hilary went through, then stopped just inside, staring at the rows of tip-up seats still in place and at the faded gilt paintwork.
    â€˜Is it as you imagined it?’ said Robert after a moment.
    â€˜I don’t know. I don’t really know what I expected—well, other than finding the Glamis monster or Bluebeard’s murder chamber.’ This was said with a fair attempt at flippancy. ‘But that’s Shona’s fault, of course. “You can go