Ghostfinders 03 -Ghost of a Dream

industry, darling, and I didn’t take any notice of them, either.”
    “It’s true,” Benjamin said solemnly. “She didn’t…”
    Happy decided to let that one go. He wasn’t much of a one for taking orders, himself. The three of them stoodtogether, looking around. Though there wasn’t much to look at, in the dressing-room. A bare table, pushed up against the left-hand wall, with a mirror fixed to the wall above the table. A few chairs and an empty costume rack. No window, no comforts, only faded linoleum on the uneven floor.
    “Is this it?” said Happy. “This is all you get, in a dressing-room? Bit basic, isn’t it?”
    Benjamin and Elizabeth both smiled the same knowing smile.
    “Theatres don’t believe in spoiling their actors. Might give them ideas above their station,” said Benjamin.
    “It’s expected that you customise your room, according to your own needs and wishes,” said Elizabeth. “Put up your own photos, messages of support, good reviews. Flowers. Whatever you need to feel good.”
    “And anything lucky,” said Benjamin. “Because actors are always great ones for superstitions, on and off stage. Because in this business you need all the good luck you can buy, beg, borrow, and steal.”
    “Exactly,” said Elizabeth. “Given all the things that can and will go wrong, often out of sheer cussedness, on any given night, on even the meanest of productions, it is us against the gods, darling, and don’t you ever forget it. In the theatre, lucky charms are ammunition. I’ve known dressing-rooms where you couldn’t move for holy medals, support gonks, and rabbits’ feet.”
    “I never did get that one,” said Happy. “What’s lucky about a rabbit’s foot? I mean, it didn’t do the rabbit any good, did it?” He glanced at the door, to make sure it wasstill open and his escape route was still clear, before turning back to the actors. “Do all the dressing-rooms look the same?”
    “Pretty much,” said Benjamin. “Stars get one to themselves, of course. Supporting roles double up; and everyone else gets crammed into whatever rooms are left. On some of the bigger Shakespearean productions, I’ve seen lesser roles and walk-ons filling up the corridor and hanging off the fire-escape. We actors do like to say
We’re all in it together
, but some of us are always going to be deeper in it than others. If you think the theatre is a democracy, try asking the leading lady if you can use her mirror to do your make-up. Or sit down even for a moment on the leading man’s chair. You’ll hear language that would embarrass a sailor on shore leave trying to get his money back from the tattoo parlour.”
    “We guard our privileges jealously,” Elizabeth agreed. “Because we have to work so bloody hard to get them.”
    “But we’re all good companions once the play’s under way,” said Benjamin. “Because we’re all equal when we’re standing in the wings, waiting for the curtains to open. When it’s only you and your talent and the lines you’ve beaten into your head versus an audience that will eat you alive if you weaken for one moment. It’s not a cast and an audience then; it’s Christians and Lions. That’s where camaraderie and fellowship come in. Because it’s always going to be us versus them.”
    “And afterwards, in the theatre bar or the nearest pub, or right here in the dressing-rooms if we finish late, it’s party time till you drop!” Elizabeth said gleefully. “Allfor one and one for all; and do your best to respect everyone else in the morning. If these walls could talk, you’d have to be over eighteen to get in here.”
    “Elizabeth!” said Benjamin. “Look!”
    Happy’s first thought was to check whether the door was still open and whether anyone was in his way if he decided to leave in a hurry. The door was still open, so he looked back at Benjamin. He was staring at the mirror on the wall and pointing at it with an unsteady hand. Happy and Elizabeth followed his gaze, to a single photo wedged into the left-hand frame of the mirror.
    “That photo wasn’t there a moment ago,” Elizabeth said steadily. “Not when we first came in here…”
    “Are you sure?” said Happy.
    “It’s not something you can be wrong about!” said Benjamin. “You said it yourself: no frills or fancies. If there had been a photo on that mirror, I would have noticed it. No-one is supposed to have been back here in twenty years. The renovators didn’t get this