by Lucy Banks
“I’m not sure you need to bother,” Pamela said, looking slightly embarrassed. “This spirit wants to be found, I think. He’s leaving a clear path for us.”
“Ah, don’t spoil my fun,” Mike said, zipping the device dangerously close to Pamela’s head. “I’ve made a few modifications on this, I want to see how well it performs.”
“We do not have the time for the silly-billy behaviour, okay?” Ribero strode over and snatched the device from Mike’s hand. “You can test it out another time. Pamela, lead us to the incubus, if you please.”
Mike looked mutinous. Kester patted him on the back as they followed the others. “For what it’s worth, I thought it looked quite cool,” he whispered.
“It’s bloody genius, that’s what it is,” Mike muttered, shooting dark looks at Ribero’s back.
They walked over to the back of the room. Kester realised where they were headed and sighed. It would be the toilets. He winced at the sight of the wet seats and paper all over the floor. Why couldn’t the incubus pick somewhere clean? It smelt hideous in there; a mix of damp, chlorine, and all sorts of vaguely unpleasant bodily odours.
Pamela stiffened, then nodded, pointing to the third toilet. “He’s in there,” she announced, and gestured at Serena. “Go on, love. Do your thing. I’m picking up no resistance from him.”
Serena pulled out a water bottle and unscrewed the lid. “Excellent,” she said, jaw tightening. “Let’s get this over and done with.”
A low moan started to rise in the silence, like a malfunctioning boiler. Kester stared into the toilet cubicle, which looked like the filthiest of the lot, then spotted a grimy shape hovering above the cistern. He was small, wispy, and quivering like a wet cat. Kester could just about make out some sort of face, or at least a pair of beady eyes, blinking at them with unmistakable interest.
“Oh, there it is!” he said, pointing stupidly. The others ignored him. Serena started to chant under her breath, gradually extending the water-bottle towards it.
This isn’t so bad, Kester thought, watching with interest. I can handle spirits like this one. Not that he’s terribly nice to look at. But at least he’s not screaming, howling, or trying to kill us. That’s definitely an improvement.
“How do they know we’ve done our job properly?” he asked over Serena’s shoulder. “The government, I mean.”
“We file a report once it’s in the bottle, silly. Then we drop it off to Infinite Enterprises on our next spirit-run.”
“But what about spirit doors? We could just tell the government that it’d slipped back into its own realm through a spirit door, and they’d be none the wiser.”
Mike chuckled. “That’s very dishonest thinking, Kester.”
“I wasn’t planning to—”
Pamela leaned in, eager to join the conversation. “You wouldn’t get away with it anyway,” she said. “When you open a spirit door, it releases a surge of energy that’s picked up at Infinite Enterprises, then recorded. They’d know if you made it up.”
“Can we focus on the job, please?” Serena said irritably. “I want to get this done as quickly as possible.”
The spirit shifted, hovering above the toilet seat. It looked remarkably like what a bad smell might look like, if it was transformed into a physical entity. Flustering and wobbling in time to Serena’s rhythmic chanting, it started to edge closer.
“Aha, here we go,” Ribero said with great satisfaction. “Yes, into the bottle you go, little spirit. Unless . . .” He turned to Kester, giving him a nudge. “Can you see any sign of the spirit door yet? Eh?”
Kester squinted into the cubicle, then shook his head. “Nope. Sorry.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mike interrupted. “Look, he’s going into the bottle, meek as a little rabbit. Bless him.”
Serena smiled. “Just leave it to the expert,” she muttered, and gave them a thumbs-up with her free hand.
The spirit started to dwindle, its tail end filtering into the open neck of the bottle. Serena nodded smugly. Then, without warning, it leapt out again and skirted over the top of the cubicle. The others stared, open-mouthed. Serena swore.
“That was your fault for disturbing me!” she shouted, pushing open the neighbouring toilet door with a metallic clang. They peered inside.
“Where has the incubus gone to, eh?” Ribero stuck his hands on his hips, scouring every corner.
“I haven’t got the foggiest,” Mike answered, as he shoved open every other toilet door. He looked at Pamela. “Can you pick him up at all?”
Pamela shut her eyes, then nodded. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh yes.”
“Well?” Serena snapped. “Where is he, then? And don’t tell me he’s down the toilet. There’s no way I’m going to—”
“No, love,” Pamela said with a snigger. “He’s up there.” She pointed.
Serena turned. “Where?” She scanned the line of sinks.
“No,” Pamela replied patiently, shaking her head. “There. Above your head.”
Serena craned upwards, indignantly examining the air above her. She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I see. What the hell is it doing up there?”
Kester squinted. He could just about make out the spirit, which had shrunk to about the same size as a golf ball, flitting around above Serena’s shiny bob.
Pamela covered her mouth and giggled. “Oh dear. Oh my goodness. You’re not going to like this at all.”
“What?” Serena barked.
“Perhaps I’d better tell you outside,” Pamela replied, pointing over to the door, which had started to open. “Looks like our time is up.”
“Ah, this is ridiculous.” Ribero glared at the stream of women pouring into the changing room. “How are we meant to work in these conditions? It is an insult!”
Mike sighed. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to come back another time.”
Pamela chuckled again, then leant against the nearest sink. “I don’t think we’ll need to come back,” she said, pointing above Serena’s head. “I think our little chum is coming with us.”
Serena paled. “What do you mean by that?” she asked, voice glacial as a snow-drift.
“Our incubus has taken a shine to you,” Pamela replied. “Bit unfortunate, that.”
Serena groaned. Mike tittered, then hastily covered his mouth at the sight of her thunderous glare.
“You are joking?” she said, looking upwards again. “Please tell me you’re joking.”
Pamela shook her head. “Come on,” she suggested, pointing at the other people in the changing room, who were giving them very strange looks. “Whatever we’re going to do about it, we can’t do it here, and we can’t do it now.”
Mike scurried off to retrieve Miss Wellbeloved, and the pair caught up with them in the foyer. The sharp sunlight was a striking contrast to the dinginess of the changing room, leaving them all blinking, struggling to adjust. Serena turned to them all and opened her mouth. Ribero held up a warning finger. She closed it again, following him outside to the van.
“Jennifer,” he said, as he pointed back to the swimming pool. “Go and let this Mr Gamble know how we got on.”
“Er, how did we get on, exactly?” Miss Wellbeloved looked at the empty bottle still firmly clasped in Serena’s hand.
“Not great,” Ribero said tightly.
“Look above Serena’s head,” Pamela added. Miss Wellbeloved glanced upwards, then flinched.
“Oh dear,” she muttered. “That’s not ideal. Still, at least we’ve technically moved him out of the pool, so that’s a good start.” She smiled weakly, then scurried back inside to update the manager.
“It’s alright,” Mike boomed, wrapping an arm around Serena’s shoulders and waving grandly to the sky. “You always wanted a friend, didn’t you, Serena?”
“Shut your face, Mike.”<
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“Now, now; remember who’s giving you a free ticket to the Billy Dagger gig tonight, young lady.”
“Seriously,” she replied through gritted teeth, glaring at the car-park as though it had personally insulted her. “You all need to figure out how to get rid of it and fast. There is no way I’m hanging around with an incubus.”
“Ah, but he loves you,” Mike said, looking up. “Don’t you, mate?” The incubus let out a tiny moan, much like a mouse caught in a trap, then disappeared completely.
“Has it gone?” Serena asked with an optimistic smile.
“Nope,” Pamela said cheerfully. “He’s still there. He’s just made himself invisible.”
Serena scrabbled around above her head, swatting at the air as though trying to get rid of an annoying fly.
“Sweetheart,” began Mike as he watched her with undisguised amusement. “That’s not going to work. He’s gone into hiding.”
“I can see that!” Serena squawked, stamping her heel on the tarmac. “Oh, this is horrible!”
“It’ll probably pop back again when you’re trying to sleep tonight,” Mike continued with a wink. “Maybe you could give it a good night cuddle.” He laughed, then yelped as Serena punched him in the ribs.
“Serena, I think you should see it as a compliment, yes?” Ribero patted her on the shoulder. “It means that the spirit thinks you are a lovely lady, right?”
“He’s in for a nasty shock,” Mike muttered.
“Anyway,” Pamela added as they bustled towards the van. “You know what to do with an incubus, don’t you? I mean, this is the sort of stuff they teach you in the first year of university.”
Serena nodded, yanking open the van door. “I know, I know. Ignore him, and he’ll eventually go away. But I still need to get him in the bottle, otherwise we won’t get paid, will we?”
Mike shimmied into the driver’s seat. “That’s a valid point, that is.” He leaned back, giving Serena a wink. “We’d better hope old lover-ghost gets bored of you pretty quickly then, hadn’t we?”
“You know the best way to make that happen,” Pamela chimed, squeezing between Serena and Kester like a bean-bag compressing itself between two narrow chairs. “You need to start snogging other chaps in front of him, then he will get sad and give up hope.”
“Christ, I pity the poor bloke who has to take on that task,” Mike said as he started up the engine. Serena shot him another poisonous look, then glanced upwards, clearly expecting to see the spirit hovering above her head.
They waited for Miss Wellbeloved to return before they headed back to Exeter. The sun shone brightly over the passing hills, masking the winter chill that lingered on the breeze. Finally, they arrived back at the office, where they studiously got on with various tasks, biding their time until the end of the working day. Kester discovered an email from the SSFE in his inbox with dates for the forthcoming online course and a downloadable brochure, but he couldn’t bear the thought of reading through it, despite knowing how irritated Ribero would be with his lack of enthusiasm.
The clock finally trudged to five. Mike leapt up like an exuberant puppet, then clapped his hands in Kester and Serena’s direction. “You lucky people!” he shouted, breaking the peace of the afternoon. “In under two hours, I’ll be picking you up to attend the gig of the century! Billy Dagger, eh? Amazing!”
Kester smiled wanly. He was looking forward to it, but he was also feeling distinctly jaded. He still hadn’t had a chance to recover after their hectic week.
“Awesome,” he said, standing up, then promptly losing his balance and falling back into his chair as the camping desk collapsed yet again. He didn’t have the energy to bother picking it up and settled for scooping his laptop from the debris instead. When will they get me a proper desk? he wondered without any real hope. He suspected they were just going to wait until this one broke entirely then come up with some other sort of equally cheap solution. It’ll probably be a pile of cardboard boxes next, he thought with a wry smile. Or they’ll just get me to work on the floor.
“Is your girlfriend coming?” Mike chucked a few contraptions into the lockable drawer in his desk, then sauntered over to the door.
Kester nodded, grabbing his jacket. “She said she was still tired from her ordeal with the Thelemites, but she’d enjoy the distraction.” To be honest, he’d been delighted that she’d said yes. After her lukewarm response to him the previous day, he hadn’t been sure that she’d wanted to keep seeing him. A deafening rock concert probably wasn’t the best place to have a heart-to-heart about things, but at least it was a start.
“What should I wear?” Serena asked, seizing her handbag.
“Oh, I don’t know. How about an evening gown?” Mike growled. “Honestly, woman, just wear what you’ve got on now. No-one gets dressed up for a gig.”
“But I don’t look great,” Serena fretted as she followed him out of the door. “I need to wash my hair at least.”
“Have fun!” Miss Wellbeloved and Pamela chorused after them before they emerged into the pitch blackness of the hallway outside.
“Nobody cares what you look like,” Mike carried on, a disembodied voice in the dark. Kester stumbled after them, accidentally treading on Mike’s foot, then teetering onto Serena, who firmly shoved him backwards. Finally, they reached the door leading down the back stairs and walked out into the car-park.
“Right,” Mike concluded, pulling his coat tightly around himself. “Be ready at seven and don’t you dare be late. I want to check out the support band before Dagger comes on stage.”
“You mean you want to make an early start on the beer,” Serena said, her eyes narrowed with disapproval.
“Well, as you’re driving, I need to capitalise on the opportunity,” Mike said. He smacked her on the back—so hard she nearly toppled on her heels. “You need to earn your keep, don’t you, love? Especially as I’m paying for your ticket.”
“Whatever.” She scowled, dragged a thin scarf out of her handbag, and threw it around her neck. “See you tonight.”
“Love you too, dearest!” Mike called out with a cheery wave. “Right,” he said, clapping his hands. “I’m off to catch the bus. See you later, Kester.”
Kester grinned as he watched Mike go. His own bus wasn’t due for another fifteen minutes. Maybe I should walk, he thought without any real enthusiasm. Do a bit of exercise, tone up a bit more.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he forced his feet in the direction of home and whisked his phone out of his pocket. Anya had texted again, requesting details about the evening. He quickly replied, an instinctive smile tugging at his lips. She doesn’t sound cross at me! he thought as he darted down the alley and out into the main high street. In fact, she sounds quite pleased about being invited. Maybe I haven’t ruined everything after all!
The cheerful feeling continued as he walked home, and he even managed to maintain some composure when he realised that Daisy had used up all the hot water, leaving him with a shower that was about as welcoming as a bucket of ice falling on his head. Discovering that his favourite shirt had a curry sauce stain was mildly irritating, but he was determined to enjoy tonight regardless of what happened.
True to his word, Mike announced his arrival at seven o’clock, on the dot, by honking his car horn in a jaunty rhythm for a minute whilst Kester scrabbled around, trying to find his house keys. After finally locating them under a pile of empty crisp packets on the kitchen unit, he hurtled outside and climbed into the car. At once, his ears were assaulted by a Billy Dagger song, which pounded through the sound system like a detonating bomb.
“Are you ready to rock and roll?” Mike chorused over the noise as he turned the car around in a neighbouring side road, narrowly missing two parked cars in the process.
“Um, yes? I think so!” Kester shouted, fastening his seat belt.
Mike whooped
as he launched the car down the road, singing along at the top of his voice.
He’s clearly in a good mood, Kester realised, watching him with fascination. In his enthusiastic state, Mike was a pure force of pent-up energy. They drove on to Anya’s house, where she joined Kester in the back, before heading into the centre of town to collect Serena, who was predictably late.
“What the hell is this racket?” she screeched, settling into the front seat.
Mike flicked off the CD player, then glared. “Get out of the car.”
Serena rolled her eyes. “I see. It was Billy Dagger, was it? It’s difficult to tell when your eardrums are being ripped apart.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” Anya added, seizing the opportunity to be heard now the music was off. “It is so nice of you, and just what I needed after such a horrible week.”
Mike turned around briefly, giving her a grin. “That’s alright, darling,” he said as he joined the busy main road leading out of the city. “My pleasure. May I say that you’re looking very lovely this evening?” He turned to Serena and glowered. “Wish I could say the same for you.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual,” Serena retorted, rummaging in her micro-sized handbag for her lipstick.
Mike switched back on the music, at a more moderate level this time. Shifting awkwardly in his seat, Kester tried to move clear of the sticky sweet wrappers and crisp packets, only to find a stale bit of sandwich underneath his bottom.
“So, how are you?” he asked Anya, looking over at her. She looked better than she had the day before, though he noticed she was wearing more make-up than usual, which was surprising. She hadn’t really struck him as the sort to worry about her appearance much. I don’t want to look like a slob by comparison, he fretted and instinctively sucked in his stomach.
“I’m okay,” she replied with a shrug. “I thought you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me after what happened, so I was surprised you asked me to come along tonight.”
He laughed. “I thought exactly the same. I presumed you’d be furious that I hadn’t told you what I do for a job.”