“Maybe. I might have to visit the theatre to see how to work it in.” I mull it over, trying to link together the connections. “It’s a pretty big coincidence, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“All these links with Jane.” I start to tick them off on my fingers. “First, Geoffrey thinks I look like her. . .”
“You do.”
“Yeah, fine, so first of all, I look like her. Second, we happened to get lost at the hospital and end up outside the unit her family paid for. And third. . .”
“She’s going to help you write an awesome essay and win a scholarship to stay here and study drama?”
A smile creeps across my face. “Well, when you put it like that, I suppose it’s meant to be, isn’t it?”
This is so cool. Maybe one of the coolest things I’ve ever done.
“I can’t believe your mum got us in here,” I say, looking around in awe. “There’s no way I’d be able to afford to come otherwise. Show tickets are so dear.”
“Yeah, it is pretty amazing. Sorry the tickets are just for the ghost tour, though.” Jess cranes her neck to look at the golden filigree plaster that decorates the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, and points to a series of small, curved balconies that jut out over either side the stage. “I think Jane Alsop’s box is one of those.”
I nod, only half listening. I’m imagining walking out on that stage, following in the footsteps of actors spanning back hundreds of years. I can almost feel the weight of their history on my shoulders. Jess nudges me back to reality and I refocus, trailing after the small crowd who are speaking in hushed tones, their feet whispering through the plush carpet of the central aisle.
“There is, of course, a somewhat gory history on this site.” The guide is beginning his tour as we catch up. He’s younger than I expected, probably early twenties, wearing a leather jacket and jeans. He’s well-spoken and, despite his age, reminds me irresistibly of Geoffrey. “The theatre is thought to be one of the most haunted in the world and has many tales to tell.” He pauses and gestures to the stage. “This building dates from 1812, though there were previously two on this site. In 1735, a famous actor named Charles Macklin killed a fellow actor in the Green Room, after an argument over a wig. Macklin himself lived to be over one hundred, but his remorseful ghost is said to walk these boards.”
“What about the Grey Man?” A small, elfin American woman pipes up from in front of us.
“Ah, someone has done their research.” The woman blushes and Jess rolls her eyes at me. “Yes. The Man in Grey, as he is known, is one of the more famous residents of the Theatre Royal. He is said to appear during matinees, wearing a long, grey coat and a tricorn hat.” He lowers his voice and the crowd lean in; again, I’m reminded of Geoffrey and the power of a good storyteller. “During renovations in the 1840s, a skeleton wearing grey rags was discovered, buried beneath the spot where the Man in Grey’s ghost is said to appear.” His voice sinks to a whisper. “A skeleton with a knife through his heart.”
A shudder runs down my spine as excited murmuring breaks out amongst the ghost hunters. “I’m not sure about this,” I whisper to Jess, as the crowd begin following the guide once more.
“You’re right, sorry.” She looks torn. It’s so muchherthing it’s ridiculous. “I just wanted to get us in here so you could see the box.”
“I know, and I appreciate it; I’ve just had enough creepy stuff to last a lifetime, that’s all.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Jess says, looking longingly at the tour group. We’re stood by an almost invisible black door with a subtle little sign.Backstage – No Admittance. “Shall we try and sneak off? See the box and go home?”
“Do you think we can?” I reply.
“Yeah, leave it to me.”
I glance over at the guide, who has been cornered by the American lady, who is gazing up at him and aggressively twirling her hair. “He won’t notice if she has anything to do with it.”
We follow the tour through the black door and wait a couple of seconds for them to disappear around a bend ahead of us. Then we double back through the door.
“I don’t suppose you saw the way up there?” Jess says as we step back into the theatre and follow the aisle back towards the entrance. Is it just my imagination, or are the lights dimmer now?
“No, I was hoping you did.”
“Nope,” she grins. “But that’s half the fun, right?”
I lift my eyebrows and shake my head at her. “How are we friends?”
“I never realized how big this place was.” Jess is following behind me. “Slow down, will you?” she pants. “I’m not really an exercise person.”
I laugh and wait on the landing. The boxes are right at the top of the building. We’ve already climbed two flights of stairs. “Ah, come on, you’re fine.”
She joins me and takes a deep breath. “Notmore?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “But we must be nearly there.”
