THE CAMERA NEVER LIES (IT DOESN’T NEED TO)
The next thing I know I’m being escorted – politely, but firmly – to a small bus with a DazzleTV logo on the side. Considering I’ve just been the centre of everyone’s attention, it’s shocking how quickly the crowd have turned away from me. But the eyes of the crowd are on Venn again, as he hastily changes the subject back to the mystery of the Shard poltergeist.
The man who is nearly crushing my shoulder with his beefy hand is enormous. A name tag on his lapel says simply ‘Ned’. He pushes me through the door of the bus, and I find myself in the glitzy, slightly stinky mobile dressing room of Venn Specter.
‘Make yourself at home, sir,’ says Ned, with an American drawl and the cool eye of an ex-soldier. ‘Mr Specter will be along in a moment.’
I raise my finger to say something witty and devastating, but he slams the door in my face. Which is probably just as well.
‘Daniel?’ says Si, swooshing in through the door, and coming to my side. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yeah,’ I say, rearranging my lapels. ‘Just a bit confused. Didn’t those people see what happened? Venn dropped a clanger, but they’re still out there listening to him.’
‘I’m afraid you are forgetting the power of belief, Daniel. These people want to believe in Venn Specter. More than they want to believe in you.’
‘But he got it wrong!’
‘For a moment, yes,’ says Si, with his best gothic butler’s expression. ‘But alas, he has already won the crowd back. I fear that you have done nothing but draw attention to yourself, Daniel.’
I snort, and push my hands into my pockets, searching for something to say. But I’ve got a horrible feeling Si’s right, as usual. And after what I’ve just done, will Venn let me follow him into the Shard as we’d hoped? The look on Si’s face says it all.
Ah, crapsticks.
The door of the bus bursts open, and Venn Specter storms in. Ned, the polite gorilla, pulls the door shut behind them. The inside of the bus seems to shrink as the two men loom at me.
‘Name?’ snaps Venn.
‘Er…’ I say. ‘Well, you’re Venn Specter, and he’s Ned…’
‘Your name, wise guy!’ Venn blazes at me.
I gulp, and tell them.
‘Now then, Dan, I’ve just checked with the girl’s mother. You have no connection with the family at all, so how in hell’s name did you know about the hamster?’
I open my mouth to speak. Then I shut it again. I haven’t quite thought this bit through.
‘Um…’ I say at last. ‘Lucky guess?’
Venn grinds his teeth and tugs his goatee.
‘Too lucky! Now I’ve got to get back out there and work this crowd again, thanks to you. And then I’ve got to get into this stupid great building and give them a poltergeist they’ll never forget, or my ratings will slide.’ He leans over me till his hooked nose is almost touching mine. ‘And I don’t like it when my ratings slide. I don’t like it at all. It makes me…’ more grinding of teeth ‘… cross.’
And he gives me a little shove with his forefinger that sends me staggering back.
The atmosphere’s pretty nasty in the bus now. Probably I should shut up and keep my head down, but this just isn’t fair. He’s the one who should be trembling, not me. He’s the bad guy, after all. I set my specs.
‘You don’t scare me,’ I say, and I hope it sounds like I mean it. ‘You lie to people when they’re sad and vulnerable. You deserve to be found out for what you are: a lousy, low-down conman, with a black conscience and a… a… bad taste in pullovers.’
Veins bulge on Venn’s forehead and he goes bright red.
‘Proud of that little speech, are you?’ he snarls. ‘You’re better than me, I suppose. You think that your “sad and vulnerable” people want the truth? I give them hope! I give them comfort when they are lost in despair. What would you give them? Hamsters? And the cold hard truth that there is nothing after death, nothing at all? You think they’d rather hear that?’
I glance at Si, and he glances back. Venn’s wrong about death, about as wrong as he can be. But it’s hard to avoid the thought that he might – just might – have a teeny tiny point about the other stuff. I find I don’t know what to say.
‘Now, I need to get into the Shard,’ Venn continues, mastering his temper. ‘And I need to take someone from the audience with me, because those dimwit TV people think it’s good for the show. So cancel your plans, Danny Boy, because I’ve got a poltergeist to bust and you’re coming with me.’
‘What?’ I can hardly believe my ears.
‘You heard. There’s something about this hamster business that I need to work out. Until I have, I’m keeping you firmly in my sights.’
There’s a knock on the door, and Ned opens it. A woman with a clipboard pops her head in, and says, ‘Everything okay, Venn? Did the boy agree?’
‘Oh yes, he’s agreed all right,’ says Venn Specter before I can say anything. ‘But I’m only taking him. No one else.’
‘No can do, I’m afraid,’ says the woman. ‘The producer wants you to take the little girl.’
‘What?’ Venn looks appalled.
‘She’s perfect,’ says the woman. ‘So sweet and telegenic, and the audience adore her. And you need to get the live audience back on-side after what just happened.’ She gives me a disapproving look.
Venn grinds his teeth yet again, but there’s nothing he can do. Then the bus gets even more crowded as little Stacey and her mother are led in.
I look at the mother, and wonder if common sense will prevail and make her take her daughter away from all this madness. But one glance at her star-struck expression, and I see it’s no good. I bet she’s already dreaming of Stacey becoming a film star. Someone from Makeup comes in and starts powdering my nose. Stacey’s nose needs a good wipe with a tissue first.
I look down at the little girl, and find she’s staring up at me. I try a grin, and waggle my fingers at her. I can deal with ghosts and ghouls and the undead, but little girls dressed up as princesses are way beyond my experience. Then I notice that the scrawny spirit of Pop the hamster is still snuffling about at her feet.
‘Hey, I’m sorry about Pop,’ I say to Stacey, crouching down so that our eyes are level.
She gives me a brave sniff.
‘But I’m glad you had the time with him that you did.’
I reach down to Pop, and put my hand on him gently. I know he won’t be able to feel me – he’s just a ghost, after all – but he sees my hand and tries to snuggle up to it. I make an action as if stroking him. He gives a single spectral squeak of pleasure, rolls over onto his back, and vanishes in a puff of golden ectoplasm.
That’s all he wanted, you see – one last stroke. And now he’s gone, off to whatever part of the Hereafter has been reserved for small fuzzy rodents.
Stacey gives me a funny look. I wink at her, and stand up again. I promise myself there and then that whatever insanity is about to happen to us, I won’t let any of it impact on Stacey.
Then the TV people lead us out of the bus to the waiting crowd.