Page 170 of Love at First Fright

“It’s going to require me drawing on Vivian’s excellent acting skills.”

“Fantastic. I believe in you.”

I tugged Bat towards the house. “Come on. And stay with me from now on. You don’t need to be visible, if it’s too much, but just… stay with me. Every second. Every second we have left together.”

“Even if you need to use the bathroom?”

Good point. “I’ll let you know.”

I rushed through the front doors, deliberately making noise, throwing them open with enough force to bang against the walls.

“Brad!” I shouted, injecting panic into my voice. “Brad!”

Loud stomping from upstairs, then he appeared at the top of the staircase. “What?! I’m packing.”

“A ghost just fucking slashed your tyres! Right in front of my eyes!”

Brad’s face drained of colour. He took the stairs two at a time, pushing past me and rushing towards his car. I followed close behind, Bat’s invisible presence a comforting weight beside me.

When he was several metres away from his vehicle, he stopped short, hands flying to his hair, tugging on his short brown strands. “No… no, no, no!” He circled the car, face the very picture of despair.

“It was that woman with the knife,” I said breathlessly, my heart pounding. “The movie star, Vivian Starling. The one who pinned you to the floor—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know who you mean.”

The Lancasters hurried towards us, feet crunching on the gravel.

“Good heavens!” Evelyn gasped, for the second time that day.

A vein on Harrison’s forehead throbbed furiously. He turned to Brad. “You have got to be kidding me. Why did you do this?!”

Brad folded his arms, eyebrows drawing together so aggressively, I took a step back myself. “Why did I do this? Why the fuck would I do this to my own car?! Do you know how expensive tyres are? Do I look made of money? I get paid minimum wage for this stupid job, for crying out loud!”

I nodded gravely. “This is clearly one last attack from the spirits.”

Bat’s snigger tickled my ear.

Harrison grunted in frustration. “Well, I’ll drop you at the train station, then!”

“What?! I’m not just leaving my car here!”

Unleashing a sigh that suggested he was completely done with this situation, and possibly his life, Harrison snarled, “You’d better make arrangements, then!”

Brad’s hands clenched into fists. “Fine! I’m going upstairs to get signal to find a local mechanic.” He turned to me, snapping, “Chaz, you’re coming too.” He probably didn’t want me slacking off by sneaking into another cupboard while he sorted out how we were getting home to London. Fair.

We traipsed upstairs, holding our phones in the air like offerings to the signal gods, hunting for that elusive spot of reception that seemed to move every time we found it.

After a few moments of silence, Brad suddenly asked, “Is he here?”

“Who?” I asked stupidly.

“That… that bloody ghost you got to suck your dick and fuck knows what else!”

Fire flamed across my cheeks. I’d possibly convinced myself that Brad wouldn’t bring it up again. I really, really could have lived without Brad seeing me explode all over Bat’s face.

“No, he’s not here.” It took an immense amount of effort not to look directly at Bat, who stood just beside Brad, pulling the most ridiculous expression—eyes crossed, tongue lolling out.

A pause. “Well?”