Page 16 of Healing Hearts on Thistledown Lane: Part 2
It was exactly as Fraser had envisaged when he’d read the brief. ‘It would be helpful to see and hear the effects beforehand.’
‘Of course,’ Ewan said. ‘We’ll arrange an after-hours visit a week or so before the event for all the storytellers.’
Fraser thought back to the brief. ‘And you’re expecting two tours per guide, is that right?’
‘Yes. At the end of your first tour, you’ll leave your group in the Great Hall and take a break before your second group arrives. We’ll make sure you have refreshments – whatever you need.’
Fraser nodded. It was going to be different to his nightly tour, where he could switch the route or timings if needed. With several other storytellers making their way around the castle, and special effects to factor in, he would need to keep to the schedule fairly closely. ‘Okay.’
Ewan steepled his hands. ‘We’re planning to offer a press preview the night before the public opening and we’d like you to run that tour. Would that be possible?’
Fraser considered the question. It would mean finding someone to cover his usual tour, but the benefits of showcasing his talents to the press would far outweigh that small inconvenience. ‘Very much so,’ he said. ‘I’d be honoured.’
‘Then that’s settled,’ the other man said. ‘I’ll get the contracts drawn up and you can start working on your unique interpretation of the stories. Catriona will be your point of contact if you need to check anything factual – obviously we need to keep things historically accurate where we can.’
Fraser hid a smile. Several of the city’s ghost tours had abandoned any attempt at accuracy in favour of spicing up their stories. Dead Famous was not one of those. ‘Understood.’
Ewan got to his feet. ‘You’ve got my email if you have any questions.’
‘I have,’ Fraser replied and stood up. As he did so, his hand brushed against his jacket pocket, and the box he’d tucked away before leaving his apartment. ‘Oh, I nearly forgot. Here’s an Edinburgh Ghost for you.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Ewan said, and took the box. Opening it, he teased the tissue paper apart and examined the contents. ‘Very clever. Did you say it represents one of the stories you tell on your tour?’
‘That’s right,’ Fraser said. ‘This is Agnes the Sea Witch, inspired by Agnes Sampson, who was executed for sending a storm to drown King James, among other accusations.’
Ewan ran a finger over the feathery green strands that trailed across the ghost. ‘I can see why they’re popular. The design is excellent and it’s exquisitely made.’
Fraser couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride on Maura’s behalf. ‘I’ll be sure to pass that along.’
‘We might consider commissioning something like this for one of the castle ghosts in the future,’ Ewan said thoughtfully. ‘In partnership with your company, obviously.’
‘I’m sure that could be arranged,’ Fraser said cautiously, even as he contemplated how busy Maura was already. ‘I’d have to consult my business partner.’
The other man nodded. ‘Something to keep in mind,’ he said, as he handed the ghost back to Fraser. He checked his watch and winced. ‘I’d better show you out. I’m due at Holyrood Palace in thirty minutes and it doesn’t do to keep the royal court waiting.’
On the tram back to Leith, Fraser found himself wondering how Maura would feel about a potential tie-in with the castle. She had delivered the second batch of the forty ghosts at the end of the previous week, just in time for his meeting with Ewan, and he’d asked her to repeat the order. The ghosts sold out almost as soon as he released each new batch and he knew a castle ghost would be popular too. He’d have to handle the supply carefully to keep things running smoothly. And in the meantime, it wouldn’t hurt for him to make sure Maura knew how much he appreciated her hard work. It was time to fall back on his show business experience and apply a tiny bit of schmooze.
Chapter Seven
Maura read the message from Fraser three times before she got the better of her surprise. She looked up at Jamie, who was glued to a documentary at the other end of the sofa. ‘We’ve been invited out for dinner.’
He didn’t take his eyes from the television. ‘By who?’
‘Fraser,’ she said. ‘As a thank you for all the work I’ve put in making the ghosts.’
Jamie frowned. ‘Why does he need to thank you? He’s paying you, isn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ Maura said patiently. ‘But I suppose it’s a bit like all those times you wine and dine clients on behalf of the bank. You want them to feel valued.’
‘But they’re multimillion-pound clients,’ he objected. ‘They’re not pottery teachers knocking out a few bits and bobs on the side for some guy they went to school with.’
The words were casually uttered but they still felt like a kick to the stomach. Maura stared at him, wondering whether she could possibly have misheard. ‘Sorry?’
He glanced at her. ‘You have to admit, I’m right. You do mostly teach these days, and the ghosts are hardly going to relaunch your career, are they?’
A roaring began In her ears. He’d always been so proud of her work – when had that changed? When the solo exhibitions began to dry up? ‘I have work on display at several galleries,’ she said, swallowing hard. ‘I’m selected for ScotPot every year. I wasn’t aware my career needed to be relaunched.’
‘What I mean is that you don’t seem to have the same ambition you did a few years ago.’ He sighed. ‘But you’re obviously happy with what you’re doing so it doesn’t really matter. I’m just not sure it’s appropriate for this guy to suggest selling a handful of trinkets to tourists is anything to celebrate.’
