Finally, though, Ellis drew up at a plywood partition wall at the end of the corridor. ‘Yup,’ Ellis said. ‘This should be it. Listen.’

Yes, individual voices had emerged from the low thrum, and in the silence of the pause Petra could clearly hear a discreet conversation not far from the other side of the plywood, spoken in a language she didn’t recognise. There was a metallic clang and a muffled thump.

‘Alright.’ Ellis’s voice was jarringly close to her ear. ‘Through there is the staff changing room. If I’m right, you’ll find your costume in your locker. You’ve skipped the queue by coming through the back, so just open the locker matching your bracelet number and collect the costume, then you’ll be able to circulate through the electronic doors. If you’re quick, maybe you’ll find Vincent in the lobby before the arc segments. Good luck.’

‘You’re not coming in?’

‘I can’t.’

‘You’re afraid of her, aren’t you?’

Ellis looked away, sniffed.

‘Is she really that bad? Do you really believe she made those people die? It doesn’t make sense to me.’

‘There’s a lot you don’t know. Just find Vincent and go home.’

Carefully, Ellis pushed the wooden door open and peered into the dark space beyond. Backing out, he gave Petra the all-clear and gestured her through.

22

22 The staff room lockers were each labelled with a stencilled number on a galvanised door. It was a small room with a couple of benches and bags, coats and belongings slung on hooks between the rows of lockers. Whoever she’d heard talking was no longer in the room.

When she located locker 138, she waved the bracelet at it, releasing the magnetic lock and unclipping the costume bag from the rail. Instead of a luxurious ballgown, there was a waiter’s outfit in the bag – flat shoes, black slacks and a white button-down shirt. She swallowed down an irrational swirl of disappointment – she wasn’t here to play make-believe, she reminded herself. Besides, throwing this outfit on in order to progress through the set would be quicker than making herself out like a Disney princess or a Home Counties heiress.

The clothes felt and smelled clean, so Petra hung up her coat and switched outfits. The costume fitted her well, and she didn’t want to think too much on the invasive scanning that must have happened over the previous two shows to get this right. All this high-corporate technology, these incredible sets, the amazing costumes and styling most of the audience got, supplied for a short-run theatre show – it didn’t make sense. How did they afford it? And why go to all this effort and expense for a single night of make-believe?