Jinnie reappeared, looking flustered.
‘Aren’t Wilma and Gus expecting us?’ said Sam, looking at his watch.
‘Are they? Oh, yes.’ Jinnie clutched Dahlia possessively. ‘Let’s get going. Bye!’
The trio beat a hasty retreat, leaving Beth, Ed and Angela in an awkward silence that extended into a vacuum of wordlessness.
Beth spoke first. ‘There’s a pinball machine in the basement.’
Angela blinked. ‘Is there?’
Ed frowned, then recognition dawned. ‘I’d forgotten all about that. Dad mentioned it when they took over the pub. Apparently it glitched all the time, so they put it into storage. It should really go to the dump, but we never got round to it.’
‘Glitched how?’ Beth realised her question might seem odd. Scratch that; borderline barking mad.
‘Erm, I was in my teens when they pulled the plug – excuse the pun – so I don’t really remember. I think it gave out wonky scores. Oh, and someone claimed it spoke to them.’
Angela snorted. ‘It’s amazing what a drink or six can do to someone’s faculties. I’m so glad I quit. Not that doing so has given me genius status.’
Ed chuckled and kissed her cheek. ‘Who needs brains when you’ve got beauty?’
‘What’s your excuse for having neither?’ she shot back, elbowing him.
Their easy affection pierced Beth like a blade slipped between her ribs. Familiar ache, familiar burn. She swallowed it down.
‘Beth?’ Angela’s voice was gentle. ‘Are you OK?’
Beth forced a brittle smile. In another life, she’d have leaned into that kindness. But in this one… Her heart had room for exactly one confidante: Diana. No more.
‘Sorry,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve got a thing about pinball machines. Luke and I… It doesn’t matter. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.’
She fled to the basement, half-expecting Ed and Angela to follow. They didn’t.
‘Hello, Wish Master.’
Nothing. Zip. Nada. The pinball machine remained inanimate.
Of course it did. Some 1970s piece of junk that had entertained in its time, but now?
She approached. The machine loomed in the dim light, silent and harmless.
‘I imagined it,’ she said firmly. ‘Sadness can make you see things. Hear things. Like—’ Her throat caught. ‘Like a baby you’ll never hold.’
‘Hey, foxy mama.’
Beth reeled back so violently she slipped and hit the floor.
The bulbs flared to life – red, green, gold – washing the walls in shimmering light. Music chimed, strangely exotic, threads of melody winding through the air.
She froze.
‘Welcome, welcome,’ a voice boomed. ‘Long time since someone played me. But first, let’s put some zing into the ka-ching!’
A figure shimmered into view above the machine. Misty, but human-shaped. Portly, wearing a sequinned waistcoat, absurd harem trousers and a gold medallion, swinging over a rounded belly.
‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ Beth whispered.
‘Not at all, sweetheart,’ the figure crooned. ‘The name’s Gigi. You got any coins?’
