‘Midge,’ she croaked, moving over to the doorframe. ‘Call me Midge.’ She rested her palm on the handle, listening to her heart thumping in her chest. Was the message for her? If so, there was only one secret from her past that it could allude to, but surely that would be impossible... She shook her head, trying to focus her thoughts.
Her breathing slowed with the exhaled breath from her nose. She was being silly. The message was obviously one of the others larking about. Or even something Rendell had set up for the guests.
The voice continued through the wood. ‘A few of us are gathering for dinner... I wondered if you were ready?’
She frowned back at her reflection in the mirror. Why did Noah suddenly appear so concerned about her? And was it just a coincidence that he happened to be standing outside, right now, just after the message had appeared?
‘Hello?’
Midge tightened her robe around herself and unlocked the door, taking another deep breath before stepping back. Noah smiled at her. ‘So, would you like to?’ His face froze as he caught sight of the writing on the mirror over her shoulder. ‘Oh my!’
‘Yes,’ she said, standing to the side as he pushed his way past her. ‘Come in,’ she mumbled.
‘I take it that isn’t your handiwork?’
‘No.’ Midge was starting to feel cold and she could practically see the script for Noah’s next podcast forming in his head.
‘I know what you did...’ He had turned back to Midge. ‘What who did?’
‘How would I know?’ Her voice rang out, harsh against the tiles.
‘Ohkaaay.’
There was a moment of silence before Noah turned back to examine the mirror again.
‘Pull yourself together, old girl,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Focus on the objects.’
Her features distorted within the fog of the reflection as she stepped in to take a closer look at the writing, Noah’s face hovering anxiously over her shoulder. She sniffed deeply, her nose filling with a strong smell that she hadn’t noticed before. Raising her finger, she gently touched the writing, tracing the letter ‘I’ with a squeak of the glass.
‘Shall we call in the others?’ asked Noah. ‘I expect they’ll want to see this.’
‘No! I’m not dressed.’
She held her finger up to her nose, taking another cautious sniff. The smell reminded her of something...
‘Oranges,’ said Noah.
Of course, that was it. She turned to face him.
‘It’s usually some kind of handwash,’ he said, pointing. ‘It’s an old trick. You write the message in alcohol or petroleum jelly – well, actually you can use soapy water too but it tends to streak – anything that is invisible, and then as soon as the room steams up, voila, your message appears.’
‘Like your antibacterial gel?’
Noah shrugged. ‘Yeah, anything like that will do the job.’
‘How?’ asked Midge.
‘It breaks the surface tension of the water when the steam condenses, which means that the fog can’t appear on the part of the mirror where the writing is.’
‘You seem very knowledgeable.’
‘You get used to a lot of the tricks in my line of work.’ He looked deeply disappointed. ‘It’s fairly amateur-hour stuff from Rendell, actually.’
‘Oh,’ said Midge. A thought occurred to her. ‘Do you reveal the tricks on your podcast?’
Noah nodded. ‘Sometimes, if they’re so obvious that they can’t be ignored. Really, these people should be taking it a lot more seriously. It’s because of companies like Haunting Holiday Excursions that us paranormal investigators are always laughed at.’
Midge thought that probably wasn’t the only reason but felt it impolite to say so. ‘And does Rendell know that you expose some of the trips you go on?’
