Spirits from Beyond

SIX

Everyone felt much more comfortable, and even comforted, once they were back in the main bar. The lighting seemed brighter, warmer, even friendlier. And the shadows were just shadows. Brook bustled around, chattering cheerfully as he got out what he promised was the good brandy. Everyone else perched on the high bar-stools as Brook set out brandy glasses before them, apart from Kim, who tucked up her feet and hovered cross-legged in mid air beside JC.

Brook poured out generous measures of the good brandy, for medicinal purposes, on the grounds it was good for shock. And if they didn’t have shock, it was only because he hadn’t presented them with the bill yet. Brook laughed determinedly at his professional joke and started to pour a glass for Kim, until she stopped him with an upraised hand and a sweet smile.

“Spirits don’t drink spirits, darling.”

Brook blinked at her a few times, and double-taked as he realised she’d rearranged her ectoplasm again. Kim now appeared to be wearing a shimmering white nurse’s uniform, complete with a dangling stethoscope and a cute little cap perched on the back of her head. Brook looked at JC.

“She does that,” JC said calmly. “I think she spends her spare time reading the ghosts of old fashion magazines. I find it best not to ask questions on the grounds that you’re never going to receive any answer you can be comfortable with. Best to smile and nod, and move on.”

Brook poured himself a large measure of the good brandy. JC made a point of not looking at Happy and Melody, so he could study them surreptitiously in the big mirror behind the bar. His two living team members were sitting side by side, looking at their drinks. They weren’t actually talking, but their body language suggested they were a lot more comfortable around each other. JC was pleased about that. He didn’t try to draw them into conversation. He didn’t want to push things, yet.

Brook finished his brandy and put the glass down on the bar-counter with more noise and force than was strictly necessary. His face was flushed and blotchy, and his eyes were more than a little wild.

“Whatever you saw up there, or thought you saw, don’t let it get to you,” he said roughly. “The upstairs floor is its own world, with its own secrets. People have seen all kinds of things up there. .”

“Such as?” said Melody, challengingly.

“Mostly, things people don’t want to talk about,” said Brook. “Like your friend, there.” He gestured at Happy, who was still staring into his drink.

JC considered Happy for a long moment. “After all the things you’ve seen, working on the job, everything from ghosts to gods to the ghosts of gods, and this was too much?”

Happy shook his head slowly. “Too personal.”

JC turned back to Brook, who met his gaze unflinchingly. JC smiled and pushed his sunglasses down his nose, so he could peer over the top, and fix the barman with his glowing, golden gaze. Brook went pale. He looked like he wanted to look away but couldn’t.

“Tell me,” said JC, and it wasn’t a request. “Tell me what’s been going on here, at the King’s Arms.”

Brook swallowed hard. “So the stories about you are true.”

“Stories?” said JC.

“All kinds,” said Brook. “About you, and your team. That’s why I specifically asked the Institute for you people. Though I never really thought I’d get a famous A team like you.”

“Famous?” said Melody. “We’re famous?”

“I think he means infamous,” said JC.

“Who, exactly, has been telling tales out of school about us?” said Melody. She grabbed the brandy bottle and freshened her glass.

“I still keep in touch,” said Brook, almost defiantly. “With some of my old colleagues at the Carnacki Institute. They all had stories to tell, about JC Chance and his team. And there’s a hell of a lot more to be found on the Net. Most of it contradictory, of course; but that’s conspiracy sites for you. Everyone’s fascinated to see what you’ll do next.”

“You’re avoiding the point,” said JC. “And I’m afraid I decline to be distracted. Nice try, though. Now, what’s going on here?”

“When I first came back here, to my old home-town,” Brook said slowly, “I was looking for something to do, in my retirement. I saw the local pub was looking for a new owner, so I took it on. The regular drinkers immediately took pains to fill me in on all the old ghost stories, but I’d already heard most of them from when I was a kid. With my Institute experience, it didn’t take me long to recognise them as just stories. Traditional tales. I thought I knew better. So after I’d been running things here for a while, and I hadn’t seen or heard anything unusual or unearthly, I opened up the first-floor rooms for occupation again.”

“Even though bad things were supposed to have happened to people who stayed in those rooms?” said JC.

Brook shrugged sullenly. “I thought they were only stories! And running a local pub. . is harder than you think. I needed the extra money staying guests would bring in. I had all the upper rooms cleaned out and renovated. Including a few tricks I learned cleaning up after Carnacki field teams. To be on the safe side. The local press did a big story about my renting out the rooms again, something that hadn’t been done since the seventies. The publicity brought people in from all around. And at first, everything seemed fine. But then the trouble started.”

“Ghosts?” Kim said brightly.

“No,” said Brook. “Worse than ghosts. Timeslips. . Open some of the doors, and the room beyond could be from any time in the Past. A different version of the room, from some previous version of the inn. You could look in, quite safely, from the outside, and see places and people long gone. From decades, even centuries, ago. You could travel from one age to another by stepping from the landing into the room.”

Melody slammed a fist down on the bar top, and everyone jumped. She was grinning broadly, actually bouncing up and down on her bar-stool in her excitement. “This is fantastic! Actual, practical, Time travel! Oh, I am so going to try this out for myself!”

“No you’re not,” Brook said immediately.

“Why not?” said Melody. “I’ll bet you had a go, didn’t you!”

“No,” said Brook. “I never dared. The risk is too great.”

“Risk?” said Happy. “What risk?”

“The Timeslips come and go without any warning,” said Brook. Beads of sweat showed on his slack, grey face. He seemed almost hunched in on himself. “They don’t last long, you see. And if you’re inside the room, in the Past, when the door slams shut. . you’re trapped in there. Lost in the Past, forever. Because when the door opens, that Past is gone.”

Melody looked sternly at JC. “This is far too good to pass up on, JC. Promise me that we will investigate this thoroughly, later.”

“If there is a later, yes,” said JC.

“Why did I know you were going to say that?” said Happy, not looking up from his drink.

“Maybe you’re psychic,” said Kim.

“Ghost humour,” said Happy. “Ho ho ho.”

“This isn’t funny!” Brook said loudly. “I lost three customers that way! Until I realised what was happening. I had to report the disappearances to the local police as guests who’d sneaked off, without paying their bills. I didn’t like to blacken their names, but what else could I do? Telling the truth wouldn’t bring them back. And who’d believe me? The missing guests’ families didn’t. They made their own inquiries when the police couldn’t help them, sent their own private investigators here to talk to me. I didn’t tell them anything. I showed them the upstairs rooms, and nothing ever happened because these people only ever showed up during daylight hours. The rooms stayed the same. Looking perfectly ordinary and innocent. As though they were protecting themselves. As soon as the investigators gave up and left, I locked all the upstairs rooms and stopped advertising them.”

“But the trouble didn’t stop there, did it?” said JC.

“No,” said Brook. “I contacted some old friends at the Institute. Told them what had happened. Hoping they’d be intrigued enough to send someone to investigate. Hoping they’d have some idea what to do about the rooms or how to bring the missing guests back. I felt. . responsible, you see. The Institute said they’d look into it. But they never did. No-one ever came. I kept calling the Institute, trying different people and different departments, calling in every old favour I had, or thought I had. . Until, finally, they sent you.”

Brook stopped there, to look at the team, before looking back at JC. “Would I be right in thinking there’s a reason why they finally sent a team, the team I’d been asking for all along? And not necessarily a good one?”

“Could be,” said JC. “But these Timeslipped rooms aren’t the real reason you need help, are they?”

Brook was trapped by JC’s glowing, golden eyes again. He nodded, reluctantly.

“When one of your regulars told the story about a young woman who came to a bad end in one of these rooms, I saw something in your face,” said JC. “That story meant something to you, didn’t it? Something personal. .”

Brook licked his dry lips, and nodded quickly, as though bracing himself. “There’s another kind of room upstairs. Even more dangerous than the Time-travelling rooms. There’s one particular room where, if you go in, you don’t come out again. No Timeslips involved; every time I’ve opened the door and looked in, it’s always appeared to be the same room. Perfectly normal, everything as it should be. I’ve never seen a ghost or anything that shouldn’t be there. But I lost four more guests in that awful room before I realised what was happening. Four good men, who went in and closed the door and were never seen again.”

“So we now have a grand total of seven people gone missing,” said Melody.

“Yes!” said Brook. “Seven! Just. . gone!”

“Then why keep letting that room to people?” said Happy, looking at Brook for the first time.

“Because the room moves around!” said Brook. “Sometimes it’s behind one door, sometimes it’s behind another. . I can’t always tell, when I approach the closed door afterwards. Once it’s too late to do anything. . I can feel that the room has changed. It’s like there’s something lying in wait, inside. Something hungry. And that’s when I know I’ve lost another guest. And I back away, not taking my eyes off the door, in case it should start to open. . and I run downstairs and hide. Until enough time has passed that I can be sure it’s safe to go back upstairs, open the door, and look inside. There’s never any trace left of the guest I put in there.”

“Hold everything!” said Melody, glaring at Brook. “You noticed something was wrong but not your other guests?”

“Apparently not,” said Brook. “Most of my guests had a perfectly good time. Some even congratulated me, on how pleasant it was to stay here. That made it worse, somehow. And you have to understand-I didn’t know what was happening, at first. But after a while, the room let me know. I think it wanted to gloat.”

“So this hungry room is still up there?” said JC.

“Somewhere,” said Brook. “Hiding behind some apparently innocent door.”

“We’re going to have to look into that,” said Kim.

“You never used to be this funny before you went on your travels,” said Happy.

“Travel broadens the mind,” Kim said brightly.

“I had to explain the new missing guests to the police as more mysterious disappearances,” said Brook. “They really weren’t happy about that. Missing people are bad for the tourist trade. So the police got a warrant and searched my premises from top to bottom. Never found a thing. Because, of course, they were careful to carry out their search during daylight hours. So they were never going to find anything. They knew that. They were all local men. They knew the old, old stories, like everyone else.

“What a very interesting story,” said JC. “Be sure, we will investigate it most thoroughly. Now stop wasting my time and tell me the real reason why you need our help. Or I will get up and lead my people out of here; and you can deal with it on your own.”

Brook nodded, slowly. He looked tired, beaten.

“The real reason I came back here, to the town where I was born, and grew up, was a girl. Lydia Woods. I used to walk out with her, back when we were both teenagers. All those years ago. Her father ran this pub, back in the seventies. But, there was a long-standing, really nasty feud going on back then, between Lydia’s family and mine. The kind that goes back generations. . You know what small communities can be like. They clutch their grudges to their bosoms, so they have something to warm their cold hearts in the night.

“Lydia and I, we didn’t care. We were young; and we really did believe love conquers all. We even thought, in our naivety, that we might be the ones to bring our warring families back together. But somehow both our families found out before we were ready to tell them. Bad words were said, on both sides. Scary words. And all kinds of threats; by people we had no doubt were ready to carry them out. Lydia and I were forbidden to see each other, ever again.

“While I was still working out what to do, Lydia hanged herself. Right here in this pub. Upstairs, in her father’s room. My father told me and said it was probably for the best. I hit him, for the first time in my life, left this town, and went to London. Ended up working for the Carnacki Institute. And that was my life for so many years. I never came back here, never once talked to anyone from my family. Or hers. They’re all gone now, one way or another.

“Finally, when I was getting ready to take early retirement, I got a call from an old friend I hadn’t even thought of in years. And he told me there were stories circulating, about Lydia’s ghost manifesting in the King’s Arms. The poor soul who owned the place then was scared out of his wits because everything had been quiet since the seventies. That’s why he was so ready to sell.

“That’s why I came back here, to take over the pub. Wasn’t like I had a choice. I had to see for myself. And take care of Lydia.”

“Is she. . appearing, here?” said JC, as kindly as he could.

“Yes,” said Brook. “Not like the old story, of the wronged servant girl who hanged herself. No hanging body, no creaking of the noose. I look into the room where she. . did it, and there she is. Looking exactly the way I remember her, from all those years ago. I thought at first it was a Timeslip, but I only had to look at her to know she was dead. I’ve watched her several times, from the doorway, never finding the courage to go in and talk to her. Because I got old; and she didn’t.

“Lydia is why I can’t just walk away from this horrible place. No matter how scary or dangerous it gets, I have to be here, for her. I can’t let her down again.”

“All right,” said JC. “I’m sure there’s a lot more you haven’t told us, but I think we’ve got the basics now. Tell me. . exactly what have you seen, and experienced here, yourself? Tell us what you see here after all the regulars have run off home.”

Brook nodded reluctantly. “Nothing ever happens during the day. While it’s light. But once it starts to get dark. . the ghosts come out to play. They’re everywhere. First, I hear them upstairs. Footsteps, moving around. Walking up and down the landing and in and out of the rooms. Lots of them, overlapping each other, like there’s a whole crowd of people up there. Then I hear voices. Men and women, young and old, but never anyone I recognise. I go to the foot of the stairs, and look up, to the dark at the top of the stairs. . but I never go up, to see what’s happening. Because the one time I did. .” He stopped abruptly, and looked at Happy. “You know. You understand. They show you things. Unbearable things.”

Brook stopped, his eyes far away. JC cleared his throat meaningfully. He wasn’t unfeeling; but he couldn’t make a start until he knew everything he needed to know. Information is ammunition in the hidden world.

“Sometimes, it gets physical,” said Brook. “I’ve had things thrown at me. Even been picked up and thrown around. Once I heard a child screaming up on the landing. And I wouldn’t stand for that. I thought perhaps some local kid had wandered up the stairs; and they’d got her. So I went up. And the moment I stepped out onto the first floor, the screaming stopped. And something laughed at me.

“The landing. . seemed to stretch away, growing longer and longer, carrying me along with it. I wound up at the far end of the landing, and the top of the stairs seemed impossibly far away. I ran and ran down the landing, and the stairs never seemed to get any closer. I stumbled to a halt, to get my breath back, then forced myself on. I was afraid. . so afraid I’d never get back. That I was trapped there on the landing, with all the things that haunted it, forever and ever. But suddenly space. . snapped back, and I was at the top of the stairs. I ran down them, crying out in shock, and relief; and I could hear hundreds of voices behind me. Laughing.”

“All of this happened up on the first floor,” said Melody. “Timeslips, and a room that ate people, and ghosts and monsters everywhere. . And you gave us rooms up there?”

Brook’s face twitched nervously. He could hear the danger in her voice.

“I had to know. . whether it was only me. I wanted to see what would happen when the rooms were faced with real professionals. And I needed you to experience. . what I experienced.”

“Yeah,” said Happy. “Thanks for that.”

“What usually happens next?” said JC. “After the manifestations upstairs?”

“If I stay down here,” said Brook, “eventually they come down, looking for me.”

“Why do you stay?” said Kim, honestly curious.

“Because if I’m not here, they might leave the inn and come into town, looking for me,” said Brook. “It’s better to ride it out until it’s over; and then I can lock the place up and go into town and get some sleep. It’s my pub. I’m responsible. I have to protect the town. And then, there’s Lydia. .”

“What happens when they come downstairs?” said JC.

“They come into the bar,” said Brook. “I don’t always see things but I can hear them, moving about, talking together. . You’ll see.”

Kim left JC’s side and went darting off through the bar, sometimes walking on the floor and sometimes tripping happily along several inches above it. Gravity was only ever an occasional thing for her. More an option than an implacable law. She walked right through the tables and chairs, humming cheerfully but tunelessly to herself, while everyone else stayed where they were and watched. Kim rose and fell, looking into every nook and cranny, even drifting all the way up to the ceiling so she could look down on things from above. Finally, she dropped down to hover beside JC again and shook her head firmly.

“Nothing there, now. I couldn’t See anything unnatural, sweetie. Not a trace to show anything weird has ever been here. Dull, dull; boring, boring. But, I am getting a feeling. . that there’s something going on outside the inn.”

“There’s definitely a power source here, somewhere,” said Happy. “I can’t See it, but I can feel it. Don’t ask me what it is. It’s. . elusive. Hard to pin down, even harder to identify. It doesn’t feel like anything I’ve ever encountered before. And like I said before, it’s growing. Getting stronger, and stranger. It’s attracting Really Bad Things to it, like malevolent moths to an utterly foul flame. Your pub isn’t only haunted by ghosts, Brook; I’m picking up traces of everything from elementals to malevolent forces from Outside. . all of them desperate to Get In.”

Kim pouted. “How come you can pick up all this stuff, and I can’t?”

“Because I’m alive,” said Happy, not unkindly.

Brook looked at Happy, then at JC. “I never heard of half the things he said. What is he talking about?”

“I don’t know,” said JC. “I think he makes half of it up as he goes along to put the rest of us in the right frame of mind.”

“I do not!” said Happy.

“But why are all those things coming here?” said Brook. “What do they want?”

“Us,” said Melody.

“Lives, and just as often deaths, are currency to these Things,” said Happy. “Eaters of Souls, our ancestors called them. They see us as energy sources. Or snacks, if you like. We’re junk food, to Things from Higher Dimensions! And the more they consume, the more powerful they become, and the better chance they have of gaining a foothold in our world.”

“By eating real things, they become more real,” said Melody. “They want to eat us all up, body and soul.”

“Just because they can,” said JC.

“I was better off when I thought it was ghosts,” said Brook.

“Lots of people say that to us,” said Happy.

“The Carnacki Institute has been studying these Things From Outside ever since it was formed,” said Melody, “Back in the days of Good Queen Bess. And we’re still no nearer understanding what they are. Science keeps advancing, in leaps and bounds, but these Things are still so far beyond us that we’re still arguing over what to call them, never mind grasping their essential nature. Aliens, demons, inhabitants of Higher or Lower dimensions. . I don’t think we have the words, or even the concepts, to properly comprehend them. Doesn’t matter, though. We can still kick their nasty arses if we keep our wits about us.”

“You always make me nervous when you talk like that,” said Happy. “You never know Who, or What, might be listening.”

“Wimp,” said Melody.

Brook shook his head slowly. “I was never big on Theory, when I worked for Carnacki. I cleaned up the mess you guys left behind. We never needed to understand. . All we cared about was how big a shovel we were going to need. But now I need to know. Why have they come here? What’s so important about the King’s Arms? Am I right in thinking it’s something to do with this strange power source?”

“Seems likely; doesn’t it?” said JC.

“How can you be so calm?” Brook said angrily.

“Practice,” said JC. “I’m sure this has all been a nightmare for you, but trust me. We have been here before. Now, tell me about the history of the King’s Arms.”

“Well,” said Brook, “after Lydia’s father, the inn was run by this gay couple, and the locals named the pub the Queens’ Arms. Rustic humour. .”

“I meant,” JC said patiently, “the inn’s original history. .”

“Oh!” said Brook. “Of course. . Well, if you go back far enough, through the centuries. . the inn’s had hundreds of different names and identities. I did some digging into the inn’s past, trying to understand what was happening. . First on the Net, then down in the town, reading my way through the old church records. None of that’s ever going to turn up on the Net, not given the state those records are in. . There was a local historian some years back who took a special interest in the stories that had accumulated around the King’s Arms. A lot of them were contradictory; but then, that’s local history for you. Never was a local historian without their own axe to grind. Politics, religion, old scores to pay off. .

“Anyway, go back far enough, and you find all sorts of curious chronicles and proceedings. Apparently, there were several occasions when the town council called for the inn to be burned down. Usually after an exorcism had spectacularly failed to work. One priest actually walked all the way up here to curse the inn officially, with bell, book, and candle. Didn’t make a blind bit of difference. You would think. . that with so many bad stories centring on this inn, that the locals would abandon the place and set up another pub, inside the town, and do their drinking there. But somehow, that never happened. Instead, the townspeople seemed to take a perverse pride in doing their drinking in a place outsiders were too scared to visit. And I found a suggestion in the old records that the prosperity and maybe even the safety of the town is linked to the safety and prosperity of the inn. That its continuing presence protects Bishop’s Fording.

“It is possible that the very first version of this inn was called The Oak Tree. Because there are old stories, based on even older stories, that the name derives from ancient Druid practices in this area. I have heard it suggested, or at least very strongly implied, that these old-time Druids set something in motion, long ago, that kept on happening. And that’s why no-one wants to meddle with the pub. In case its long existence is somehow linked to what the Druids did, and the King’s Arms is somehow holding off something even worse. .”

Brook realised he’d been lecturing JC for some time, got embarrassed, and stopped talking. Happy gave JC a hard look.

“Druids? More bloody Druids? I don’t believe in coincidences, JC. Coincidences are the Universe’s way of getting you to pay attention.”

“The Boss wanted us here,” JC said thoughtfully. “But to do what exactly? And why us?”

“Why is he looking at me?” said Happy, raising his eyes dramatically to the heavens. “Do I look like I have any answers? I am famous for never having any answers! I know nothing! Lots of nothing!”

“Perhaps we’re supposed to die here,” said Melody, quite seriously. “Because of what we found out at the Secret Libraries.”

Happy looked at her approvingly. “I think some of me is rubbing off on you.”

“Moving hastily on,” JC said loudly. “Before someone makes a very inappropriate joke. . We have to believe Catherine Latimer is on our side or we might as well cut off our own heads. We can’t do this without her. So we’re here because the Boss trusts us to Do Something. About whatever it is that’s really going on here. And that must be important, maybe even significant; or she wouldn’t have sent her very best A team. Would she?”

“Denial ain’t only a river in Egypt,” murmured Happy.

“Shut up, Happy,” said JC.

Melody was looking thoughtfully at Brook. “You said. . the upstairs phenomena only started up again recently.”

“Yes,” said Brook. “And I have been wondering. . whether all of this could be my fault. Did I wake things up again by letting out the upstairs rooms? Did I put new bait in an old trap? Throw fresh meat to the waiting Beasts? That’s why I wanted you people here. To find out the truth.”

“I say we nuke the place from orbit,” said Happy. “It’s the only way to be sure.”

“You always say that,” said Melody.

“And I’m nearly always right,” said Happy.

“Actually,” said Kim, “I’m pretty sure I’d pay good money to see that. .”

“How much?” said Happy.

“But what if the inn is. . containing the evil?” said Melody. “Destroy the inn, and you might let the Bad Things run loose.”

“We don’t destroy places,” JC said firmly. “We solve problems. And to do that, we need more information. Adrian, what is the oldest part of this inn? I mean, the physically oldest part of the building?”

“This inn’s been rebuilt and refurbished so many times, down the centuries,” Brook said doubtfully. “It was a tavern before it was an inn before it was a pub. . God knows what it was, originally, back in those old Druid days. . The outer stone walls are still original I think. It’s definitely local stone, from the quarry over the hill. But I suppose the oldest components. . would have to be those old oak beams, in the ceiling.”

They all looked up, at the long, exposed wooden beams that stretched the length of the ceiling. No-one needed to say Oak beams. . The Oak Tree. It was so obvious. JC took off his sunglasses to better study the ancient oak with his golden eyes; but they looked like nothing other than wood. Kim launched herself up from beside him, so she could hover directly below the ceiling, pushing her face right next to the oak beams. . and then she drifted back down again, shaking her head.

“I will never get used to that,” said Brook.

“You are not alone,” said JC.

“You’ll believe a ghost can fly,” Happy said solemnly.

Melody had a sudden fit of the giggles, to pretty much everyone’s surprise. Kim joined in. Happy gave the oak beams his full attention, distancing himself from such frivolity.

“I’m not picking up anything from the ceiling in general or the beams in particular. They’re not saying anything to me.”

Melody stopped laughing, took a deep breath, and almost immediately dropped into a sulk. “It’s not fair! If I had my full equipment here, I could run proper tests. I could shake this whole building by the scruff of the neck and make it tell us everything we need to know. With what I’ve got here, the best I can hope to do is poke the local phenomena with a stick and hope they feel intimidated.”

She hesitated, then before anyone could stop her, jumped down from her bar-stool and ran back up the stairs. In a moment she returned with her suitcase. She opened it and set up her lap-top and scanners on the bar-counter, working quickly and efficiently. No-one offered to help. Melody was very protective of her babies. She was soon scowling into her lap-top screen.

“Of course,” she said, to no-one in particular. “It would help if I knew what the hell I was looking for.”

“If we knew what we were looking for, we’d already be doing something about it,” said Happy.

“At least my equipment provides us with specific information!” said Melody. “Unlike certain psychic people I know who wander around pointing at things, and going Ooh!”

“I have never gone Ooh!” said Happy. “And I can See things your equipment could only ever dream of.”

JC looked fondly on his team-mates as they argued loudly with each other and shared a smile with Kim. He was glad to see Happy and Melody talking to each other again, back to the open bickering of their old relationship. It was how they communicated. Kim leaned in close, to murmur in JC’s ear.

“It’s all very sweet, but how long do you suppose that’s going to last?”

“Beats me,” JC said quietly. “I’m glad it’s happening at all. I would be the first to admit that I have never known what it is they see in each other. Their relationship would baffle a whole coven of psychiatrists. Hopefully, the shared experiences of this case will bind them together again.”

“I have always admired your optimism, darling,” said Kim.

“It’s the only way to survive, working with those two,” said JC. “Or, indeed, with the Carnacki Institute. Melody! Are you getting anything useful?”

“Nothing worth reporting,” growled Melody, not taking her eyes off the glowing lap-top screen. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear everything here was hiding from me. Bastards.”

“So far, all the supernatural activity we’ve encountered has been limited to the upper floor,” said JC. “Nothing’s come down here after us. So, Melody, I think we need to provoke a response. See what you can do. Happy, reach out and make contact with Something. Feel free to be extremely annoying.”

Melody grinned broadly, tapping rapidly away at her keyboard. Happy looked thoughtful. Kim leaned in close to JC again.

“Darling, is this wise?”

“Probably not,” JC said cheerfully.

Brook shifted uneasily behind the bar-counter. “What, precisely, are you doing?” he said. “What is Ms. Chambers up to with that lap-top?”

“Something very technical that you and I couldn’t hope to understand,” said JC. “Being the mere mortals that we are. But I have seen Melody work miracles with far less tech, and I have no doubt that she will annoy the hell out of whatever may be lurking in the vicinity. Don’t ask me how. Really, don’t. Ghost Finder science is very inexact.”

“Only because you don’t understand it,” said Melody. “Don’t worry, I’ll soon stir these ghostly little shits up and make them squeal like piggies. .”

“You want to get the ghosts mad at us?” said Brook, incredulously. “Okay; that is it. I am leaving.”

“Finally!” said Happy. “A sane man, a kindred spirit, a man after my own heart! Get your coat, Brook, and I’ll hold the door open for you.”

“Stand your ground, both of you!” JC said sternly. “Happy, concentrate. Melody, anything yet?”

“I am pumping all kinds of psychic chaff into the aether,” said Melody, still pounding away at her lap-top. “I am disrupting all the local dimensional frequencies and playing merry hell with all the paranormal patterns I can reach.”

JC looked at Brook. “Told you we wouldn’t understand. Are you actually achieving anything, Melody?”

“She’s giving me one hell of a headache,” growled Happy.

“Me, too,” said Kim, frowning.

“Good,” Melody said briskly. “That means it’s working.”

All the windows in the main bar suddenly slammed open, and the storm burst in. A bitterly cold wind blasted through the bar, knocking over everything that wasn’t nailed down. Overthrown tables and chairs were sent somersaulting the length of the bar, smashing into each other with vicious force. Glasses and drinks abandoned by regulars who’d left in a rush flew through the air, smashing against the walls. The wind roared through the bar, carrying the rain with it, soaking the curtains and the carpets.

Melody crouched protectively over her precious equipment. Happy and JC huddled together. Brook crouched behind the bar-counter, crying out with shock. Kim stood where she was, peering uncertainly around her, as chairs and other things tumbled straight through her insubstantial form. JC yelled to Melody, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the storm.

“You’ve definitely got Something’s attention, Melody! Any idea what?”

“Beats the hell out of me! The readings don’t make any sense!” Melody yelled back, fighting to be heard over the storm. “But this is nothing to do with ghosts! It’s only weather!”

“Could be poltergeists!” yelled Happy. “Is it poltergeists?”

“Not according to these readings!” said Melody.

Her last few shouted words fell into a sudden silence. The storm had broken off as abruptly as it began, the wind dropping away to nothing. The last of the rain fell away, leaving puddles on the floor. More ran down the walls, and dripped from the bottoms of soaked curtains. The sudden hush was almost brutal, after the rage of the storm. Tables and chairs crashed to a halt and were still, and the windows stopped slamming open and shut. JC and Happy let go of each other and moved quickly around the bar, shutting the windows and fastening them securely. They could still hear the storm howling outside, but now at a safe distance. It wasn’t trying to get in, any more. Kim was still looking about her, frowning prettily. Happy went over to Melody, who only had eyes for her lap-top.

“Well?” said JC. “Anything?”

“No,” said Melody. “That. . appears to be it. I prodded the local power source with my science stick, and that was what we got in response. A very basic reaction. Interesting. .”

“But what does it mean?” said Brook, rising very cautiously from behind the bar-counter.

“I’ll have to think about it,” said Melody.

She stared at her lap-top screen with such complete concentration she didn’t even realise Happy was still standing over her. He nodded, gave up, and went back to JC. Who knew a man who needed distracting when he saw one.

“All right, Happy, you’re up.”

“What do you want me to do?” said Happy, not unreasonably.

“Reach out!” said JC, waving his arms around in what he hoped was a meaningful way. “Make contact with. . Something! Slap it around the head in your own special psychic way and get it to talk to you. Say nasty things about its mother. .”

Happy shrugged briefly and concentrated. Melody finally realised what he was doing and shut down her tech so it wouldn’t interfere with his efforts. Brook looked like he wanted to duck behind the bar-counter again, but JC glared at him till he held his ground. Kim stared at Happy, fascinated, and went back to hover beside JC.

“Do you have any idea why the storm invaded the bar?” JC said quietly.

“It wasn’t just a storm,” said Kim. “I could feel anger in it. .”

“All right!” Happy said loudly. He was frowning so hard it must have been painful, but he was also grinning in a really unpleasant way. “Everybody please shut the hell up and pay attention! Look around you! We are very definitely not alone here!”

Everyone looked up and down the wrecked and waterlogged main bar, but there was no-one else present that they could see. Everything seemed perfectly still and quiet. And then all the bar taps turned themselves on at once, and a dozen frothing liquids fell to the floor. Beers and ciders and lagers, all spouting out of the opened taps. Brook cried out and ran up and down the bar, closing the taps one after another. But the moment he moved on, the closed taps opened themselves up again. Brook swore loudly, as the floor behind the counter flooded. And then all the bottles on display at the back of the bar exploded, one after another; blasting vicious glass shrapnel through the air. Brook came running out from behind the counter, his arms up to protect his head.

JC grabbed him and pulled him down, away from the flying glass. Happy was already crouching, both arms wrapped around his head. Melody stayed where she was, peering out from behind her lap-top. And Kim stood still, letting things pass through her with complete indifference. Slowly, things began to quiet down. There were no bottles left to explode, and the taps began to run dry, one after another.

And then, the overturned tables and chairs began to rock back and forth, as though gathering strength and determination. They rolled slowly along the floor towards the besieged people, gathering speed. There was a blind, brutal intent behind their advance, as they headed straight for JC and Happy, Brook and Melody. Kim strode forward to block their way, one hand held out imperiously. The tables and chairs rolled straight through her.

Melody straightened up, her machine-pistol at the ready. She opened fire on the nearest table, and blew it apart with a stream of bullets. Broken wood and jagged splinters flew on the air. But it only took Melody a moment to realise there was far too much furniture, and nowhere near enough bullets. She couldn’t hope to stop them all. The rolling tables and chairs kept coming, faster and faster. Dangerously fast, with so much weight behind them.

The overhead lights started to flicker off and on, so that the whole bar went from light to dark, light to dark.

“They’re destroying my pub!” screamed Brook. “Do Something!”

“This is us, doing something,” said JC.

“Hell with the pub!” said Happy. “I refuse to die by furniture! Do Something, JC!”

The floor-boards suddenly rose and fell, rippling like a slow wave on a wooden sea. Great ragged cracks shot across the walls and ceiling, creaking and groaning loudly, as though the bar was trying to tear itself apart. Tables and chairs rattled and somersaulted across the uneven floor, heading straight for JC and Brook, Melody and Happy, picking up speed all the time. JC stepped forward to meet them, and produced a small round object from his jacket pocket. It shone brightly, the size of a cricket ball. JC held it out before him.

“See this?” he said loudly. “This is an exorcism grenade. Ready to blast holy sanctified light all over the vicinity! So stop this nonsense right now. Or else.”

A floor-board lurched suddenly up under his feet, throwing him off-balance for a moment. JC pulled the pin from the grenade and tossed it lightly into the midst of the on-coming furniture. He turned to Kim.

“Get out of here! Right now! It won’t be safe for you in here when this thing goes off!”

Kim nodded quickly and dived across the room, running straight through the outer wall, and on into the car park outside. JC turned back to the advancing chairs and tables and stood his ground, arms folded defiantly across his chest. There was a silent blast of overpowering, unbearable light, as the exorcism grenade exploded, filling the bar from one end to the other. And then it was gone. There was a pause, and the electric lights came back on, bright and calm and steady. The tables and chairs rolled to a halt and lay side by side on the quiet floor; rocking slowly back to inactivity again. Everything in the main bar was still and quiet. There was an overwhelming feeling of calm and peace. JC smiled cheerfully about him.

“Let this be a warning to one and all,” he said loudly. “I am not always bluffing.”

Happy looked at him. “An exorcism grenade? I thought those things were banned from field use, pending further testing?”

“I just tested it,” said JC.

“One of these days they’re going to catch you filling your pockets with whatever you fancy from the Carnacki warehouse,” said Melody.

“What the Boss doesn’t know about won’t give her sleepless nights,” said JC.

Kim stuck her head back through the wall and looked about her. “Is that it? Is it safe for me to come back in now?”

“Please don’t do that,” said Happy. “It’s like looking at a serial killer’s mounted trophy.”

“Get back in here, Kim,” said JC.

The ghost girl walked calmly through the wall, ignoring Happy with magnificent disdain, and considered the vanquished furniture, lying scattered the length of the main bar. She nodded, clearly expecting nothing less, and smiled brilliantly at JC. The two of them gave each other their almost but not quite high five.

“Well,” Kim said pleasantly, “you wanted to provoke a response, darling. I’d say you succeeded.”

“Look what you’ve done to my bar!” said Brook, almost hysterically.

“Not a bad reaction, as reactions go,” said JC, ignoring the barman. “Surprisingly, however; nothing at all to do with ghosts. . Right then; if the ghost won’t come to the bar. . Adrian! Adrian; where are you. . Ah, there you are! Stop sulking and pay attention. I think you need to show me the room where your dead girl-friend is still waiting around.”

Brook moved forward, reluctantly. “You think Lydia’s got something to do with all this?”

“I don’t know,” said JC. “But she’s what brought you back, and it was only after you returned that all this started up again. So I think I need to take a look, maybe have a nice little chat with the young lady. See what she has to say for herself. Happy, Melody, you stay here in the bar. Keep an eye on things. And slap them down hard if they look like they’re getting out of hand again. I hereby authorise you to use excessive force because that’s the only kind you two understand anyway.”

“I’m not cleaning this up!” Melody said immediately, glaring at the mess around her. “I do not do cleaning up!”

“It’s true,” said Happy. “She doesn’t. But since I really don’t want to go back upstairs yet, I’m prepared to do a little light tidying, as long as it doesn’t involve actual effort.”

“I want to go see the ghost,” said Melody, sticking out her lower lip. “Why can’t I go and see the ghost? I’ll be quiet.”

“Too many people at once might frighten her,” JC said firmly. “Besides, do you really want to leave Happy down here, on his own?”

Melody shot a quick look at Happy and said nothing. JC turned to Kim.

“Be a dear, Kim, and go take a proper look outside. Several quick circuits of the pub, then go flit around the fields. See if you can track down this mysterious local power source. But don’t go too far, or get too close to anything unnatural. I’m becoming increasingly convinced that with this much raw power around, there are dangers here for the dead as well as the living.”

“Anything for you, sweetie,” said Kim. And she strode determinedly back through the wall again. Brook shuddered quickly and headed for the stairs at the back of the bar. JC went with him.

“Lydia’s room is at the far end of the landing,” Brook said quietly. “Every now and again I unlock the door and take a quick look inside. Make sure she’s still there, and that she’s. . all right. But I never go in.”

He started up the stairs, but JC stopped him with a sharp gesture. Brook started to say something, and JC gestured savagely for him to be quiet. JC stood very still at the bottom of the stairs, hidden in the shadows, and listened carefully. Because he wanted to know what Happy and Melody might say once they thought he wasn’t around. Because he needed to know how things really were with them.

There was a long pause, then. .

“Just because I’m talking to you again, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re forgiven,” said Melody.

“I had sort of got that,” said Happy. “Even though I’m still not sure why you’re so mad at me.”

“You have got to be kidding,” said Melody. “Really? Why am I so mad at you? You went back on your pills, and you didn’t tell me! Are you crazy?”

“Sometimes,” said Happy. “Goes with the territory. We both do what we have to, to survive what the hidden world throws at us. You lean on your machines, I lean on my medications.”

“My machines aren’t killing me by inches!” snapped Melody.

“But I can’t live without my support mechanisms,” said Happy.

“Aren’t I enough for you?” said Melody.

“I hoped you would be,” said Happy. “God knows I wanted you to be everything I needed. You did try. I know that. But you can’t protect me from the pressures of the hidden world the way my pills can. Every day, it gets that little bit harder to keep the bad stuff outside my head. I’m fighting a war, Mel; and I’m losing.”

“Oh, Happy. .” said Melody. And JC winced to hear the helplessness in her voice.

There was another long pause, and then. .

“Isn’t there any special tech you could put together, to help me?” said Happy. He sounded very tired, and desperate. “Some machine that would shut down my ESP and make the world bearable?”

“I have done some research,” said Melody. She sounded tired, too. “The only thing I found that might work would just as likely destroy your mind. Lobotomise you. You wouldn’t be you any more.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Happy said gently. “I think. . I’d find that a relief.”

Another long pause.

“Is there nothing else I can do for you?” said Melody.

“Yes,” said Happy. “Hold me, while I’m dying.”