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this build-up demanded a polite response and he supplied it.
    ‘The doors are flung open and then banged shut. In the corridor, one of the cast is walking by and she steps in here, ashen-faced, and asks what on earth it is that has just swept past her.’
    ‘Impressive,’ Diamond said, still playing along. ‘Were you present?’
    Titus smoothed his hair. ‘Too young. But there were numerous witnesses still around to attest to what they experienced.’
    ‘Can’t be dismissed, then.’ That was more than enough of indulging Titus. ‘Where next? The dressing rooms? Was she ever seen there?’
    ‘Before that, allow me to show you the box where she was seen by Dame Anna.’
    Leaving the bar, they crossed the corridor to the circle itself. The horseshoe-shaped auditorium was in darkness. Its crimson, cream and gold decorations were just discernible, the silk panels, gilded woodwork, garlands and crystal chandelier giving a sense of the antique theatre that this was, essentially no different from the interior known to the actors who first played here in the reign of George III. Without an audience, and with the curtain down, the space looked smaller than Diamond remembered from his one previous visit. Anyone but he would have been thinking this was the prettiest theatre in the kingdom. His main thought was how quickly he could get out. To his embarrassment he was starting to get the shakes.
    ‘The house curtains were a gift from Charlie Chaplin’s widow, Oona,’ Titus said. ‘Chaplin loved this theatre. If you look in the corners you’ll see his initials in gold thread.’
    Diamond muttered something in courtesy, but couldn’t bring himself to look at the curtains.
    Titus flitted down the steps of the centre aisle and beckoned to Diamond to join him at the front of the circle. Nobody else seemed to be about. In this light, and without an audience, it was more claustrophobic than Diamond remembered from his only other visit, when he’d summoned the inner strength to take his friend Paloma Kean to see An Inspector Calls.
    Making a huge effort, he joined Titus and forced himself to look at the upper box where the grey lady was alleged to appear. ‘You told me the story in the pub,’ he reminded him. ‘You don’t have to repeat it.’
    ‘Don’t worry, there’s another version,’ Titus insisted on saying. ‘Some believe she wasn’t an actress, but one of the audience who occupied the same box night after night to watch the actor she adored. Which do you prefer?’
    His thoughts were in ferment. The ghost wasn’t high in his priorities. ‘I don’t have a view. Whatever you say.’
    ‘Some say the man was killed in a duel, but I think that’s over-egging it.’
    ‘I agree. Shall we move on now?’
    ‘I hope I’m not boring you. Each of the boxes is endowed, you know. The grey lady box is named in memory of Arnold Haskell, the balletomane. Do you enjoy the ballet, Peter?’
    ‘Not in the least. It isn’t my thing at all.’
    Titus chuckled at that. ‘You’d be happier in the Jolly box, I dare say.’
    ‘The what?’
    ‘The one on the prompt side, named after Jolly’s department store.’
    ‘That I can relate to,’ Diamond said. ‘I wouldn’t expect to see a ghost in the Jolly box.’
    ‘And this will intrigue you. The one opposite is the Agatha Christie. You may not expect to see a ghost there, but you might find a bunch of suspects, or even a murderer.’
    ‘Did Agatha Christie sponsor it?’
    ‘Her grandson, in her memory. Dame Agatha died some years before the renovation. There are no reported sightings of her ghost.’ He turned to face Diamond. ‘Do you believe in the supernatural, Peter?’
    ‘I keep an open mind.’ A touch of mischief made him add, ‘Don’t you?’
    ‘Me? I’m a firm believer,’ Titus said.
    ‘Have you actually seen the grey lady?’
    ‘I’ve sensed her presence and smelt the jasmine more times than I care to remember.’
    ‘I don’t think I’d know one