I really did wonder when he said that if he had any inkling of the trail of death and misery he’d left behind. Perhaps that was a function of being a ghost; perhaps to the dead the world of the living was a dream, and not to be taken too seriously.
‘Then let me call my doctor,’ I said.
‘This would be the Scottish Mohamedan?’
‘Dr Walid,’ I said.
‘You believe he can save her?’ asked Lesley.
‘I believe he can,’ I said.
‘Then by all means summon him,’ said Lesley.
I went outside onto the staircase, replaced the battery in my spare mobile and called Dr Walid, who said he would arrive within ten minutes. He gave me some instructions to follow in the meantime. Lesley looked expectant when I returned.
‘Can I have Nightingale’s staff?’ I asked.
Lesley nodded and handed over the silver-topped cane. I placed my hand on the handle as Dr Walid had suggested but there was nothing, just the chill of metal – the staff had been completely drained of magic.
‘We don’t have much time,’ I said. There was a relatively clean dust sheet over the back of the chaise longue – I grabbed it.
‘Truly?’ asked Lesley. ‘Alas, for as the hour grows closer I feel myself reluctant to depart.’
I started ripping the sheet into broad strips. ‘Can I speak to Lesley directly?’ I asked.
‘Of course, dear boy,’ said Lesley.
‘Are you okay?’ There was no outward change that I could see.
‘Ha,’ she said, and I was sure from the tone that this was the real Lesley. ‘That’s a stupid question. It’s happened, hasn’t it, I can feel it …’
She raised her hand to her face, but I took it and gently guided it back down.
‘Everything’s going to be OK,’ I said.
‘You’re such a bad liar,’ she said. ‘No wonder I had to do all the talking.’
‘You had such a natural talent for it,’ I said.
‘It wasn’t talent,’ said Lesley. ‘It was hard work.’
‘You always had such a natural talent for hard work,’ I said.
‘Bastard,’ she said. ‘I don’t remember them telling me when I joined that there was a risk my face might fall off.’
‘Don’t you?’ I asked. ‘Remember Inspector Neblett, old shovel-face himself? Maybe that’s what happened to him.’
‘Tell me I’m going to be okay again.’
‘You’re going to be okay,’ I said. ‘I’m going to hold your face on with this.’ I showed her the strips of sheet.
‘Oh well, that fills me with confidence,’ she said. ‘Promise you’ll be there whatever happens?’
‘I promise,’ I said and, following Walid’s instructions, started winding a strip of the sheet tightly around her head. She mumbled something, and I assured her that I’d cut a hole for her mouth when I’d finished. I secured the sheet the way one of my mum’s sisters had taught me to secure a headscarf.
‘Oh good,’ said Lesley once I’d cut the promised hole. ‘Now I’m the invisible woman.’ Just to be on the safe side, I knotted the material at the back of her neck to maintain the tension. I found a bottle of Evian by the chaise longue and used it to soak the makeshift bandage.
‘You’re trying to drown me now?’ asked Lesley.
‘Dr Walid told me to do this,’ I said. I didn’t tell her that it was to stop the bandage sticking to the wounds.
‘It’s cold,’ she said.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m going to need Henry back.’
Henry Pyke returned with transparent eagerness. ‘What must I do now?’
I cleared my mind and opened my hand and spoke the word – ‘Lux!’ A werelight flowered above my hand. ‘This is the light that will take you to your place in history,’ I said. ‘Take my hand.’ He was reluctant. ‘Don’t worry, it won’t burn you.’
Lesley’s hand closed around mine, light leaking out between her fingers. I didn’t know how long my magic would last, or even if the whole blood-sucking business with Molly had left me much magic in the first place. Sometimes you just have to hope for the best.
‘Listen, Henry,’ I said. ‘This is your moment, your big exit. The lights will dim, your voice will fade, but the last thing the audience will see is Lesley’s face. Hold on to the image of her face.’
‘I don’t want to go,’ said Henry Pyke.