Gazing in the mirror I decided that, despite her best efforts, I looked rather cool. The Doc Martens made me seem more like a grunge princess than a showy hooker. At least that’s what I was going to tell myself.
When I finally left the trailer, with Barry still firmly by my side, a gust of cold air immediately gave me a serious bout of goose pimples. And it was clear from my producer’s embarrassed cough that the flimsy material was doing little to hide my reaction to the cold in other areas as well.
I spotted Winter on the far side of the set. He glanced over and beckoned me. It took him a moment but, when he finally realised what I was wearing, his mouth slowly dropped open.
‘We need to get to make-up,’ Barry told me.
‘Just give me a minute. Stay here.’
‘But…’
I ignored his protests and set off. When I reached Winter, he was trying hard not to stare. I twirled for full effect, almost losing my balance in the process. Winter reached out and grabbed me before I fell over. Slightly breathless, I grinned at him. ‘Whaddya think?’
Winter’s jaw worked. ‘What…?’ For once he was lost for words.
‘I’ve been press-ganged into becoming a contestant,’ I informed him. ‘I think I’m to play the role of evil slut.’ I grinned at him. ‘Of course, I’m sure you know where the word slut comes from.’
‘Huh?’ He blinked rapidly.
‘Slut,’ I said, rather enjoying myself. ‘What’s the etymology of the word?’
Winter shook his head in disbelief. ‘I have no idea. It’s not something I’ve ever thought about.’
‘Well,’ I informed him airily, ‘technically it’s of dubious origin and possibly generates from the German word schlutt meaning slovenly woman. But there’s also an argument to be made for the Swedish term slata which translates as idle woman.’ I beamed triumphantly. ‘It’s like these people see right through me.’
Winter’s mouth flattened into a grim line. ‘I can see right through you! Right through that dress anyway. You can’t wear that!’
‘Wardrobe Lady made me put it on. She doesn’t like me very much.’
Winter looked even more annoyed. ‘Every man on set will be leering at you!’
I shrugged. ‘That’s their problem. Not mine.’
‘It’s…’ He suddenly halted. ‘Hang on,’ he said slowly. ‘What did you say? You’re a contestant?
‘It was either that or be thrown off set.’ I tried to look apologetic. ‘Sorry.’
‘No, this is brilliant. Well done, Ivy.’
I smiled again. ‘Thank you.’ Then I hesitated. ‘Why is it brilliant?’
‘We’ve not been able to get close to any of the contestants. After Alberts was killed, I’m sure the police interviewed them all but the Order hasn’t been given access. Considering it was a contestant who was murdered, and that the contestants are all here ostensibly because they can use at least some magic, it’s quite possible that one or more of them is involved.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Even if they’re not, they might still be targeted by our would-be necromancer. If you’re one of them, you’ll be able to investigate them and protect them at the same time.’
I hate multi-tasking. ‘Or I could make them all my bitches and have them running at my beck and call.’
Winter frowned in exasperation. ‘Did you see the papers this morning? Someone has been talking to the press. Not to mention allegedly buying cigarettes for some children. You should take some time before this afternoon to find out who. Anyone who would stoop that low is bound to have sneakier plans. Perhaps not necromancy, but it’s a slippery slope to evil, Ivy.’
‘Mmm.’ I started to fidget. I needed to change the subject. ‘Do we have any information on who our zombie was?’
Winter muttered something under his breath at the z word. ‘He was a local man who died just over two years ago in a farming accident. I have spoken to his family and there’s no magical connection with them and no reason to believe he was specifically targeted. The Order will keep looking into it but I don’t think we’re going to draw any leads that way.’ He shrugged. ‘All indications suggest his rising was due to chance and perhaps opportunity. There is nothing to suggest he was chosen for a reason.’
For some reason that disturbed me more than if his body had been specifically selected. Lack of clear motive meant that the person behind this could have much grander designs for bringing the dead back to life. Grander designs that I doubted would be warm or fluffy for the rest of us. I tugged at the bodice of my dress, irritated by the scratchy material, and sighed.
‘Do you really have to wear that?’ Winter enquired.
‘It’s not that bad.’
He harrumphed. ‘You look like you’re serving yourself up on a platter.’
Wincing slightly, I smoothed down the skirt. ‘Let’s not talk about humans as food while there are zombies around, shall we?’
‘I told you,’ he began, ‘it’s not zomb—’
‘What gives?’ Moonbeam marched over, interrupting Winter and glaring at me. ‘I’m supposed to be the replacement! All that work I put in and they chose you instead?’ His voice dripped with disdain. ‘You!’
I shrugged. ‘Unless there’s something you’re not telling us, you’re not quite what they’re looking for.’
He rose up, even more piqued than before. ‘I’m exactly what they’re looking for! I can fill any role!’
‘They want a woman, Moonbeam.’
‘I…’ He deflated. ‘Damn it.’
‘Sorry.’ I wasn’t but he looked so dejected that I figured I could say it.
Moonbeam ran a hand through his hair. ‘All that work.’ He sighed and glanced at Winter. ‘You’re the Order witch.’
Winter was staring at Moonbeam in fascination. ‘Yes, I am.’
From behind, I saw Barry desperately try to catch my eye and point to his watch. I played dumb and looked confused.
‘I’m a big fan!’ With an impressive mood change, Belinda’s son switched from looking pathetic to complete enthusiasm. ‘I love the Order! How difficult is it to get in? I can do magic, you know.’
Both Winter and I gazed at him with sudden interest. ‘Can you?’ Winter asked. ‘Have you ever performed any spells?’
‘Like raising the dead and creating an army of zombies?’ I butted in.
Winter jabbed me sharply in the ribs. ‘Ignore Ivy,’ he said with an irritated glance in my direction. ‘We used to work together and she seems to have delusions of grandeur where her magic ability is concerned.’
It was my turn to frown. ‘But you said…’ Winter’s glare intensified and I paused. ‘Yeah, okay. I’m crap at spells,’ I lied.
Moonbeam wasn’t interested. His attention was wholly on Winter. ‘You know I have friends in the Order? They’re very highly placed.’
I could tell from Winter’s expression that he was about to snap. It might have been because of Moonbeam’s overly earnest nature or the fact that he’d interrupted us. Either way, it seemed appropriate to get Moonbeam to a safe distance. The last thing any of us needed was the Order making an enemy of Belinda Battenapple’s son.
‘Time to go!’ I chirped. ‘Come on, Moonbeam! I need your help.’
He dragged his eyes away from Winter. ‘What with?’
‘Tactics,’ I said, trying to think of something that would entice the poor boy away. ‘I want to talk strategy with someone who has your intellect and capacity for dissembling.’
Moonbeam looked pleased. Thank goodness. ‘Is that Barry?’
I nodded.
‘First of all, you don’t want him as your producer,’ he said, as I linked arms with him and drew him away from a still-glowering Winter. ‘You need someone with some real bite if you want to go far.’
Again with the damned eating analogies. The only difference this time was that I couldn’t tell Moonbeam off. Winter obviously didn’t want word of last night’s zombie getting out. And it definitely had been a bloody zombie, regardles
s of how much he protested. ‘Tell me more,’ I murmured.
Unfortunately, Moonbeam was only too happy to oblige.
***
With his diabolical plan to usurp one of the contestants almost certainly sunk, Moonbeam seemed to have moved on to trying to take Barry’s place. Every time the producer opened his mouth, Moonbeam jumped in. He stuck to our sides like a limpet. I’d have done something to get rid of him but he actually had some useful information to impart. Besides, I was curious to know if he was aware of what his mother had hanging around her neck.
‘See,’ he said, clutching at my arm in order to emphasise his point, ‘you need to ensure you have as much camera time as possible. That means you need to be out there. Do you get me, Ivy?’
‘I have to be out there,’ I repeated. Whatever that meant.
‘Exactly. So if someone starts an argument, you step in and smooth it over.’
‘Should I start arguments?’ I enquired.
He was horrified. ‘Definitely not. That’s a sure-fire way to be voted out. You want people on your side. Both the contestants and the viewing public. It’s the only way.’
I pursed my lips. ‘What about my outfit? I think it’s a bit risqué.’
Moonbeam cast a critical eye at the dress. ‘It does show rather too much flesh,’ he agreed. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the one to be set up as the seductive honey pot but,’ he shrugged, ‘I guess it takes all sorts.’
Plonker. I wasn’t going to rise to his backhanded criticism, though, not when I’d finally managed to find a way to ask him about his mother. I touched my neck and assumed a wistful air. ‘I just wish they’d let me keep my necklace on. I miss its weight against my skin.’
Moonbeam drew breath, as if to jump back in with some other inane observation. I hurriedly continued before he could. ‘I saw your mum was wearing a necklace yesterday. It looked pretty.’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘What? Yeah, she has a lot of jewellery.’ He rushed into his next sentence. ‘So if Barry and the other producers want you to play the part of—’
‘Where did she get it from?’ I asked, unwilling to let him change the subject. ‘I’d love to get one to match.’
‘It’s one of a kind,’ he said, tugging uncomfortably at his sleeve. ‘Besides, it’s pretty ugly. Anyway, you should—’
Moonbeam was determined to talk about something else. I was equally determined to stay on topic. ‘What’s inside it?’
‘Huh?’
‘It looks like a liquid,’ I said patiently. ‘Mercury or something.’
He tugged at his sleeve again. ‘Yeah,’ he said unconvincingly, ‘that’s what it is. Mercury.’ He checked his watch. ‘Bugger. I’d better go. I promised the boom operators I’d help them out before the opening.’ He turned and skedaddled.
I frowned, watching his departure. Moonbeam definitely didn’t want to talk about his mother’s necklace. I was sure he was lying and knew more than he was letting on. The question was why.
I didn’t have the chance to go after him and find out more. Barry leapt into the void Moonbeam had left and dragged me away. ‘The other contestants are arriving,’ he informed me. ‘You need to join them. They’ve had a couple of weeks to get to know each other, remember, so you have a lot of catching up to do.’
I lifted an eyebrow. ‘Why do you do that? Why do you let them … us … meet each other before the show?’
He spoke without thinking. ‘People are on their best behaviour when they meet someone else for the first time. Generally it takes a few days for strangers to settle down in each other’s company. Add the unfamiliar cameras into the mix, and we’d have the talent tiptoeing around each other for a full week. That doesn’t make for good television. It’s far better to make sure that everyone already knows who they like and dislike beforehand. It cuts out a lot of the boring stuff.’ He glanced at me. ‘Of course, you’ll be at an advantage. You’re the unknown quantity.’
We joined the other contestants, re-dressed in their finery. Harriet shot me an evil look, even though I was certain that she was the one who’d screwed things up by pointing the finger in my direction for her wardrobe change.
‘Oh,’ I murmured to Barry, ‘I wouldn’t worry about that. I think I’ve already made an enemy.’
When Bellows appeared, wearing his ridiculous Halloween costume again, and sniffed imperiously upon spotting me, I knew it wasn’t just Harriet I’d have to worry about. The other contestants looked at me curiously. I briefly considered telling them not to worry. I wasn’t here to win in order to carve out a career in morning television; I wanted to find the zombie master. Somehow I didn’t think that would go far in the reassurement stakes.
The macho guy ambled over, leering in my direction. ‘So you’re the newbie.’ He stuck out his hand. ‘I’m Mike.’
I put on my prettiest smile. ‘Hi, Mike!’ I trilled. For all his muscles, his handshake was surprisingly weak.
‘I like your dress,’ he told me. ‘You stick with me. I’ll keep you safe.’ He leaned down and lowered his voice. ‘I’m an expert at all this magic stuff. Last year I found a spell to hotwire cars. Now I can travel at full speed without the need for any petrol. I’m saving the planet and my money at the same time.’
Mike was obviously an idiot. ‘Except that’s impossible. You can’t mix magic and technology like that.’
He flexed his muscles and grinned at me like I was stupid. ‘That’s what the Order wants you to think.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘It’s the truth.’
‘She’s an Order witch,’ Harriet interrupted. ‘There’s no point saying anything about magic to her.’
Mike stiffened, while the other contestants stared at me. ‘You? You’re in the Order?’
‘No. But I could be if I wanted.’
‘So could I.’
No, he couldn’t. I didn’t need to present him with the entrance exams to know that any magic he possessed wasn’t worth the Order’s time. Even the lowest and weakest Neophyte would leave this plonker in the dust. ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Whatever you say.’
Mike glowered at me. ‘I do say.’
I noticed that the others were shuffling away from me, as if I’d taint them by simply standing too close.
A weedy guy in a suit spoke up. ‘Do you remember Faith in series four?’ Various people nodded. ‘Well,’ he said knowledgeably, ‘she was in the Order. She was voted out in the second episode.’
I gritted my teeth. She had tried to enter the Order but failed at the first hurdle. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Bellows smirking and tried to relax. I wasn’t here to win the show, I reminded myself. If I wanted to find out anything useful, I had to be more congenial. It would do the investigation no good if everyone refused to speak to me. My movements were going to be curtailed enough now that I was a contestant and not a runner. I had to show Winter that he needed me; I just wished it didn’t have to be such hard work.
‘The Order didn’t want me,’ I said in a slightly raised voice. ‘They kicked me out. Sure, I’ve got a bit of magic in me but I bet it’s nothing compared to you lot.’ I pasted on a wistful expression. ‘I’m just here as a last-minute replacement to make up the numbers. I know I’ll be voted out quickly. That’s okay.’
An older woman, dressed in a painfully tailored power suit, smiled at me. ‘Don’t say that. If you were in the Order even for a short while you must be able to do some spells. Don’t worry about this lot. We’re all just nervous.’ Mike let out a snort. She ignored him. ‘I’m Lou.’
An ally – unless she was only pretending to be on my side so she could shaft me later. Good grief. No wonder I preferred watching Enchantment from the safety of my sofa. Being here could drive a person nuts. ‘I’m Ivy,’ I told her.
She patted my cheek in a motherly fashion. ‘You’ll be fine, Ivy.’
Trevor Bellows looked away in disgust. He adjusted his hat and cleared his throat. ‘You’ll have plenty of opportunity to judge each other’
s abilities soon,’ he said, his jowls juddering as he spoke. He still looked rather pale. I fixed my attention on him, examining his tired eyes. Perhaps he really was being targeted by our nasty necromancer. He certainly didn’t look like he’d had much sleep last night. ‘Remember,’ he continued, ‘you are only to use magic when we tell you. We can’t have you lot shooting off spells and destroying half of the Scottish Highlands in your wake, now can we? I’ll be on hand to help you if you need me to. You’ll all be perfectly safe. We’ve even managed to get extra security, just to be sure.’
No wonder the set looked busier than yesterday. I guessed Enchantment weren’t taking any chances.
Another producer wandered up with a clipboard. She had an earpiece and was obviously listening to something. After a moment or two she nodded before clapping her hands together. ‘It’s time, people!’ She spoke with an odd accent that made her voice rise at the end of each sentence, a strange mixture of peppy American cheerleader and overly excited Australian soap opera star. It should be illegal to expend that much energy while speaking. ‘Follow me! We’re off to the stage!’
Lou sighed. ‘Let’s hope nobody dies this time around.’
Amen to that.
Chapter Twelve
Things felt very different now that I knew I was going to be in front of the cameras rather than behind them. As we clustered together, ready to make our debut, I spotted Brutus slinking up and let out a sigh of relief. He might be a contrary cat who seemed to care about little more than food but he’d obviously picked up on the fact that I was feeling a bit nervous and come to provide me with some much-needed moral support. Then he ignored me and made a beeline for Trevor Bellows, snaking round his legs.
Bellows leaned down and absentmindedly scratched Brutus behind the ears. In response, my cat let out a tiny meow. ‘You’re a clever little thing, aren’t you?’ Bellows murmured. ‘I wonder what you’d say if you could really talk.’
He really didn’t want to know. I threw my errant familiar a narrow-eyed glare and turned away, noticing Winter at the far side, scrutinizing all the last-minute preparations. Barry was deep in conversation with another of the producers so I took advantage of the moment to edge over.