Colin Jobson smiled in an act of humour he didn’t feel as he watched Solly leave. He was keen to get back to the recordings and there was trepidation too—Willis’ story was creepy. He waited for the door to close behind Solly, then glanced around the gloomy office, lit by a dozen desk lights. He was alone. Hunching over his desk, he popped the earbuds back in his ears, closed his eyes against the room, and pressed play. Willis’s voice filtered into his consciousness.
‘…Is the door to the room you’re in now closed? It doesn’t matter; if it isn’t closed now, it will be at some time, or there will be another closed door somewhere near you… Sit there and listen… Go on, take a moment and listen… Hear anything?
‘Imagine that if you hear a noise—it could be something moving behind the door, ready to rap at the door or try the handle… If you try and reassure yourself that it’s the wind, your pet, or the house settling, remember it could be those things… Equally, it could be something else. If you don’t hear a noise, then it could be that some-thing is lurking on the other side… Waiting.
‘That’s what it’s like for me… Now go and open the door without any trepidation… I dare you…’