Free Night on Terror Island by Philip Caveney Page B

‘How about if Rose brings her crayons and things up to the projection room?’
    Kip looked at him. ‘Seriously?’ he asked.
    ‘Why not?’ Mr Lazarus looked towards the door of the office and raised his voice a little. ‘I’m sure Rose would like to see how the projector works,’ he said.
    There was a brief pause and then Rose’s voice said, ‘Whatever.’
    ‘But what about the ticket booth? Somebody might come late.’
    ‘Not to worry. At eight o’clock, I’ll set the film running, then I’ll come down and keep an eye on the booth for half an hour or so. Once I’m sure nobody else is coming, I’ll go back up to the projection room to see how Rose is getting on. Easy.’
    ‘I’m not sure,’ said Kip.
    ‘Oh, go on,’ Beth urged him. ‘She’ll be safe up in the projection room.’
    Kip thought about it for a moment and then nodded. ‘OK, that’d be great,’ he said. ‘Thanks, Mr Lazarus.’ He grinned at Beth and reached into the fridge for her Diet Coke. ‘In that case, save me a seat,’ he said. ‘And don’t hang about. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be very busy tonight.’
    He was right. What started as a trickle soon became a flood. It seemed that news of the Paramount’s fabulous new projection system was getting around, because there were faces in tonight that Kip had never seen here before, and a lot of money seemed to be changing hands. He was kept very busy, running from ticket office to confectionary booth and back again. He seemed to be doling out huge amounts of popcorn, drinks and sweets, and he told himself that Dad would be well impressed when Kip presented him with the takings after he got back from the hospital.
    The last few ticket holders drifted into the auditorium as the clock inched towards ten minutes past the hour and right on cue Mr Lazarus appeared in the door of the ticket booth.
    ‘I’ve just set the film running,’ he announced.
    ‘OK. How’s Rose?’
    ‘She’s fine. Playing with her toys.’ Mr Lazarus raised a gloved hand and suddenly it was holding a large container full of hot popcorn. He handed it to Kip. ‘Hurry along now,’ he said. ‘Or you’ll miss the start of the film. I don’t know about you, but to my mind that’s the worst thing that can ever happen.’
    Kip nodded. He couldn’t agree more.
    ‘Thanks, Mr Lazarus,’ he said. ‘I owe you one.’
    He hurried out of the booth, pushed through the doors and climbed the flight of steps to the auditorium. Eerie theme music was playing and, as he descended the steps to the stalls, he saw the title
Terror Island
scrawled across the screen in blood-red letters. He dropped into the vacant seat that Beth had saved for him and settled down to watch the movie.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     

    ROSE WAS BORED . She’d coloured in almost half a picture in her
Flying Fairies
book and there was absolutely nothing else of interest in the projection room. She looked forlornly around, wondering when Mr Lazarus was coming back. He had said he’d only be gone a minute or so.
    Rose decided that there was something very strange about Mr Lazarus. She remembered that, a little while earlier, she’d overheard him and Kip in the confectionary booth. The two of them had been whispering about something … something that had to do with equipment that was stored up here in the projection room. Kip had warned Mr Lazarus to keep it covered up. Now Rose was beginning to wonder what they had been talking about …
    She got up from her chair and standing on tiptoe, she peeped through the little window into the auditorium. For the moment, things didn’t seem too bad. A bunch of Americans were aboard a boat and they were arguing about something.
    ‘And I’m telling you, there’s no island on any of my charts!
’ shouted a man who seemed to be in charge of things.
‘I’ve been sailing these waters for years; if there was an island out here, I’d know about it
.’ He was tall and powerful-looking and wore a