He snorted out a laugh. ‘Anything you’ve experienced in the past few weeks as luck or coincidence is not luck or coincidence. When he fell at your feet that day—’

‘How do you know that?’

Ellis Brown ignored her question and talked over her. ‘—he told you he’d been distracted by something, didn’t he?’

‘How—’

‘That something was Beccie. He may or may not tell you if you asked him, but he thought he saw Beccie in the street for a second. And that’s because he did. They scouted you two for this task at the same time as they scouted for locations.’

The world seemed to press in around Petra. She glanced around her, wondering which of the scattering of Tuesday-night clients heading to the bar down the block was watching her, whether someone was monitoring the feeds from the CCTV cameras slotted on the street corners.

‘I’m here to tell you to beware of those women. Look into their shows. You may wonder why Metamuse is performing here in Leamington, of all the insignificant towns – it’s not luck or coincidence. If you’re feeling the shows ripple into your real life, know that it’s not just you. Every show ripples into the real world.’

‘Okay, whatever. I don’t know what all that vague nonsense means, and I’m not really that interested.’

Ellis Brown rubbed his chin and then looked at his thumb, where a smear of his thick stage make-up had rubbed off. It was hard to be sure in the gloomy shadows of the street, but the skin beneath it looked grey. ‘Yes, I see that. Maybe you don’t need to understand. What you should know, though, concerns Vincent. I can tell you have a strong connection.’

He paused, infuriatingly, but still Petra was flattered – to have the strength of her bond with Vincent recognised by a stranger. ‘What is it?’ Ellis Brown was a conman, she reminded herself – he knew what she wanted to hear and he would say it at the optimal time to gain her trust.

‘Before you get too involved with him, you should know that he doesn’t plan to be around much longer.’

He delivered it as if it were a shocking denouement, and Petra took pleasure in deflating his grand climax. ‘He already told me. He was planning to leave, but changed his mind. He might stay on a bit.’

‘I don’t think you’re quite aware of where Vincent’s intending to go, Petra.’

‘Tell me then,’ she challenged.

‘He’s leaving to join Beccie.’

13

13 ‘How can you plan something like this and just act normal?’ Petra pleaded. She wanted to punch him. ‘Why would you even agree to go out with me?’