Red Rainbow by G Johanson (best e reader for academics txt) 📕

“And you don’t make a convincing pantomime villain.”

Deveral gave her free rein to wander the theatre while he boiled some water to make a hot water bottle. He also turned on the heating in the theatre, which would take a while to kick in. He gave her the hot water bottle when he was done and joined her up in the upper circle where she sat with Tabby.

He had thought about her statement while preparing the hot water bottle. Pantomime (there was something he’d missed out on, playing a pantomime dame – or horse with Georges) was a firmly British spectacle, an unlikely reference for Patience to make. She was French through and through with African roots, no British connection whatsoever. He returned to her statement, asking, “How do you know about pantomime villains anyway?”

“Father may have never left France after being wrenched from Africa, but his mind travelled the globe. I know you have something planned. That’s why you pushed us away so forcefully, to protect us from the consequences.”

“I’ve dedicated my life to performance in various fashions. The circus, a magician in Grand Guignol style, theatre impresario – and one of my last ones was a dud. Did the others believe it?”

“We mostly went our separate ways, I think. Shellshocked. You can’t transform from our kind mentor to that so quick and expect us to fully swallow it. You got us through some bad times. I don’t mean our wages, though they helped. Art is so important at times like these. I would never have thought I could be involved in anything like this if not for you believing in me. Because of my dad, sure, but I think we got past that.” Patience’s kind words and ability to see through his bullshit persuaded him to tell her the full story before she guessed it.

“I’ve been on my way out for some time. Stomach problems, pain I wouldn’t even wish on them. I was sat clutching a bottle of pills one night when it occurred to me: why go out alone? This is my last full night. I have a suicide pact with whichever Germans come to the show tomorrow. They just don’t know it yet.”

“How?”

“An interesting way. I’ll be talked about after I’m gone. I don’t have to worry about any of you guys coming to my funeral because they’ll just be throwing my bones in a ditch. You can tell them afterwards – tell them I didn’t mean it. It had to be this way. All my life, I’ve jumped from one group to the next. I never really had a family. My marriage was a disaster!” Deveral said animatedly, adding poignantly, “This was the closest I’ve come. I just hope they can forgive me one day.”

“Not to speak for everyone, but I don’t think anyone is angry with you. It’s so out of character they’re more concerned than anything. Being fired is nothing to them – our industry has them all used to lean times. Is there no way I can talk you out of this?” Patience asked sadly. There was no need for sadness, this was not an unhappy ending. Death was preferable to unending discomfort and pain.

“The die is cast. Stay the night then leave and don’t even talk about me until the Allies have cleared the country.”

“I’ll stay. I may try and talk you round.”

“A waste of time, something I have very little of. I’d rather not spend it quarrelling.”

Deveral and Patience talked through the night, exploring different parts of the theatre where their whims led them, including her wardrobe room. He observed, “I should have moved in long ago before selling the house. There is something atmospheric about staying here. All theatres are haunted, naturally, even the ones that aren’t. This one should be. A cursed play was rehearsed here, and not Bill’s.”

“Is it okay if I share an observation?”

“Open forum here.”

“It’s about Florence. What she is. Remember my dad – I’ve been around paranormal people my whole life. She’s different, I know it. She made me feel weak. Anton and Jean were the same after their scenes with her. I had to physically dress Anton, he was virtually passed out.”

Deveral had noted that himself, that their leading man needed to be led after sharing scenes with Florence. Deveral had barracked him after the show for his ‘unprofessionalism’, a charge he knew was unfair as he made it, poor Anton still too drained to even verbally defend himself. And it was supposed to be fun playing the bad guy? He wasn’t feeling it.

“She carries herself as strange...”

“I think this is her carrying herself as normal. I think the reality... she’s scary,” Patience said perceptively.

“That’s what we need right now. Someone scarier than them. I found one. It wasn’t easy.”

Deveral did not disclose the full details of Florence’s ability with Patience. It would only disconcert her, though it seemed she’d got the gist. Florence was an energy vampire with few scruples. Patience’s father, Amadou, was nothing like Florence. He had been a good man, a fishmonger, an honest trade. He had also been a spiritualist medium who used his power less and less after marriage and fatherhood, sidestepping from the stage for the last time back in 1905. From that point on, his customers had to come to him.

Patience hugged Deveral tightly at the end of their long, cold night together. The curfew was over for another night, she could wander the streets safely again. Hopefully, it would be removed soon. Florence had mostly left them alone, occasionally making an appearance from out of nowhere up on the rigging or emerging from a side room. Not many people got into a theatre after hours – there was a magic and beauty that even she seemed to savour – though it could have been the eerie quality that attracted her.

“Last day of life. Thoughts?” Florence asked Deveral as they waited to open the doors.

“I’m wondering how they won’t write about this in the