by Mia James
‘Dunno, maybe. I’ll know more tonight. I’ve got one pretty strong lead. If it’s genuine, it might well be a big break in the case.’
‘Sounds exciting.’
‘Hmm, perhaps. Might also tie in with the book I’m writing. And you? What’s on at school?’
‘I’ve got Philosophy first - oh no!’ April’s sunny mood melted away as she realised two things in quick succession. First, she hadn’t read the book she was supposed to be discussing - and given her performance in the last class, Hawk was bound to ask her something - and secondly, Benjamin Osbourne was going to be there. And where Benjamin went, Marcus Brent was sure to follow. She shuddered involuntarily at the thought of seeing him again.
‘What is it, honey?’ asked her father.
‘Oh, uh, nothing,’ said April quickly.
‘It doesn’t look like nothing.’
‘I, um, I forgot to read that story. You know, that John Wyndham one?’
Her dad put down his spoon and reached for his briefcase. ‘Ah, well, that’s where I can help you.’
She looked at him with hope. ‘Have you read it?’
‘No,’ he said, opening up his laptop. ‘But I bet Wikipedia has.’
‘Oh, Dad, you’re a genius!’ she said, throwing her arms around him from behind.
‘Steady on.’ He laughed. ‘I’m not sure I should even be doing this. It’s not exactly in the parenting handbook - “help your child cheat on homework”.’
‘Maybe just this once it’s okay.’
The phone rang. April’s heart leapt. Gabriel? ‘I’ll get the phone, you keep on the homework,’ she said as she ran towards the hall. She skidded to a halt by the hall table and realised that the phone wasn’t in its cradle.
‘Dad! Where’s the phone?’ she cried.
‘It might be in my study,’ her dad called from the kitchen. Damn this wireless technology. She ran into the study and began rummaging through his mess. Why can’t he keep this place tidy? she thought, picking up handfuls of paper and books desperately. She finally tracked the insistent chirping to a shape hidden under a copy of New Scientist and snatched it up.
‘Hello?’ she almost shouted.
‘Hey, my ears!’ It was her grandfather.
‘Oh, hello, Gramps.’ She was unable to hide the disappointment in her voice. There was no reason why Gabriel would call this soon, but at least, after last night, she was pretty sure he would call. Wasn’t she?
‘Is that all the hello I get?’ said her grandfather testily. ‘Have I upset my granddaughter in some way? Have I insulted you by calling to see how you are getting along?’
‘Sorry, Gramps.’ April sighed. ‘I didn’t mean ... I was expecting someone else.’
‘That much I know!’ roared Thomas. ‘That I can see! And who is more important than your own flesh and blood, hmm? Tell me that!’
April held the phone away from her ear as he continued to rant. It wasn’t an unusual situation; her grandfather’s phone calls often descended into anger and shouting over imagined slights. Last week, he had yelled at April’s father for taking five rings to pick up the phone. ‘Why does it take you so long? Am I not important enough to leave your stupid work for one minute?’ It was easy to see where her mother got her hair-trigger fuse from. April knew it was just the way her grandfather was and, at his age, it was futile to expect him to change, but this morning she just didn’t have time or patience for it.
‘Listen, Gramps, I love talking to you,’ she said firmly, ‘but I’ve got to go to school right now and before that I’ve got to do something important for my coursework.’
‘So I am not as important as your school—’ he began, but April wasn’t listening.
‘Love you Gramps, speak later,’ she said and pressed the ‘end’ button.
April was overcome by a wave of guilt. It wasn’t her granddad’s fault that he wasn’t Gabriel of course, but why did he - and every other adult in her life - have to give her a hard time about nothing? She stood there tense and anxious, annoyed that her previous buoyant mood could be so easily shattered by one disappointment. Sighing, she bent to pick up the papers that had scattered onto the floor during her frantic phone search. As she was scooping them up, one caught her eye. It had a familiar logo on the headed notepaper: The Sunday Times. Curious, she picked it up and before she knew what she was doing, she had read the first few lines.
Dear William,
I’m so glad you were able to come in for interview last Thursday. I’m sure you’re well aware how highly you are regarded here at the ST—our editor Peter Noble is a particular fan of yours. I was hugely impressed by your ideas for setting up a dedicated investigations team in Glasgow and your vision for revamping the reportage in the Scottish edition of the paper.
What’s this? April thought as she read. Why didn’t he tell us he was going for an interview with The Sunday Times? She quickly read the rest, the last paragraph making her gasp.
... on that basis, and subject to agreeing a mutually beneficial remuneration package, I’d like to formally offer you the position of Senior Editor, to begin immediately. Please let me know your decision as soon as possible. I look forward to hearing fom you.
Yours sincerely,
Paul Bingham,
Publishing Director
April felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. Her brain scrambled to make sense of it. Why, if you’ve been offered a top job on one of the most prestigious papers in the country, would you turn it down for some crappy reporter’s role on a local rag covering parking issues and village fetes? It just didn’t make sense. Then she spotted more of his brightly coloured Post-it notes stuck to the shelves. ‘Vampire hierarchy?’ read one, with the words ‘Three nests? Four?’ scribbled beneath it.
‘Bloody vampires!’ she growled, ripping the note down and striding back into the kitchen.
‘Who was it?’ said her dad, looking up from the computer. Then he spotted the letter in her hand and his eyes widened.
‘What’s this?’ demanded April, waving the letter in his face. ‘Why didn’t you tell us about this?’
His face paled. ‘Listen, April, I was going to talk to you about that.’
‘Oh yes? When, exactly?’
‘I can see that you’re upset, but it was something I had to decide on my own.’
April couldn’t believe her ears. ‘On your own?’ she shouted. ‘Aren’t I part of this family? Doesn’t this affect me too? I suppose I’m not allowed an opinion?’
‘It’s not that—’
‘Well, what is it then? What? You think it’s perfectly okay to choose to take me away from my life and my friends and dump me in some freaky backwater without even asking me how I feel about it?’
Her dad got up and walked towards her, but April backed away.
‘Come on. Calm down and we’ll talk about this.’
‘Talk about it?’ she snapped. ‘It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? We’re here now. You’ve got exactly what you wanted.’
‘Look, I didn’t want to leave Scotland any more than you did.’
‘Then why did we? It’s only forty minutes from Edinburgh to Glasgow, you could even have commuted!’ Hot tears of frustration were rolling down her cheeks now.
‘Sometimes you have to make sacrifices, April,’ her dad began, but she angrily interrupted him.
‘Sacrifice! What sacrifices exactly? I’ve given up my whole life to come down here. I’ve had to leave all my friends, I’ve been forced to go to a horrible school where they all look down on me and where I don’t even understand half of the things they say. And now I discover it’s all because you didn’t like the job on offer ...’
‘Honey, there’s more to it than that. Your mother—’
‘Mum? Don’t use her as an excuse. It’s obvious she didn’t want you to take this job in London, you’ve been arguing about it non-stop. This is all about you and don’t pretend it isn’t.’
William shook his head and loo
ked down at his feet. April felt a new burst of anger. Even now, when she had put the evidence in front of him, he couldn’t look her in the eye and admit he had lied to her. She felt her nails bite into the palm of her hand as she clenched her fist. She couldn’t remember ever being so furious. It was the injustice of having her whole life decided for her, of being forced to change everything - everything—about her life, without her father even having the decency to tell her there was an alternative.
‘So why did you bring us here? Because of this?’ She held up the Post-it note and her father’s face changed from confusion to shame to anger in seconds.
‘Give me that!’ he shouted, lunging at her. ‘How dare you go through my work!’
‘Here, have it!’ she yelled, screwing the paper into a ball and throwing it at him. ‘At least I know what’s most important to you now.’
He picked it up off the floor and began smoothing it out. ‘You shouldn’t be poking your nose into things that could be dangerous.’
‘Dangerous?’ spat April. ‘That’s if your stupid theory on the Highgate Vampire is right. That’s if they even exist.’
At the word vampires he looked at her sharply. ‘Highgate Vampire? What do you know about that?’
‘Everyone knows about it, Dad!’ she said, her voice dripping with derision. ‘It’s not a secret, it’s a tourist attraction. That’s what you brought us here for?’
‘Don’t you dare speak to me like that!’ shouted William. ‘How could you think I’d be so selfish? We came here because it was best for the family, for all of us. For you.’
But April was far too angry to let him wriggle out of it. ‘Okay, so look me in the eye and tell me we didn’t come here for the bloody vampires.’
William stared at her and his face was a mixture of guilt, defiance and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. No, she did know what it was: it was sadness. He closed his eyes and for a moment she thought he was actually going to cry. April’s first reaction was to want to hug him. William Dunne had always been her hero, her warm and approachable father who, unlike most of her friends’ dads, was fun and funny and involved in her life. She had always felt she could talk to him about anything because he was strong and clever and, above all, he was usually right— she knew that whatever happened, he would know the answer. He could always make her feel safe. But now the tables were turned and she was being asked to forgive him, tell him it was okay, whatever he did - and she couldn’t do it, she didn’t even feel she knew him any more. It was as if the picture she had built up of her father was crumbling away, leaving behind a sad, lonely man who didn’t have all the answers after all, who made mistakes and avoided tough decisions just like everyone else. He wasn’t Superman, he was just an ordinary, everyday suburban father. And that broke April’s heart.
‘I’m trying to get close to them,’ he said quietly. ‘We had to be here. It’s more important than you realise.’
‘Them? Them?’ she repeated. ‘The vampires, you mean? God, you’re pathetic!’
Her father looked up, his eyes blazing. ‘You will not speak to me like that!’ he yelled. ‘I am your father!’
‘Really?’ shouted April. ‘To me you look like a grown man who believes in fairy tales! And you ruined my life for this crap? Jesus, Grandpa’s right about you!’
William barked out a bitter laugh. ‘Well, he should know.’
Even though she had just dismissed Thomas as a crazy old man, now she leapt to his defence. She was dimly aware she was overreacting, being unreasonable, but she couldn’t help herself.
‘Don’t turn this back on Gramps,’ she snapped. ‘At least he wants the best for me. What’s he got to do with this, anyway?’
William ran his hand through his hair wearily. ‘More than you’d believe,’ he said.
April felt a lurch in her chest as a piece of the jigsaw fell into place. It was her grandfather. That’s why her father had refused a brilliant job in Scotland and moved them all the way down here - William was trying to impress his father-in-law.
‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘That’s what this is about? Jesus!’ She laughed ironically. ‘You want a best-selling book to show Grandpa he’s wrong about you? And I suppose if they make a film out of it, you’ll be able to throw it all his back in his face.’
William shook his head. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just trying to give you the best life we can. I know you feel completely grown-up, April, but you still need protecting - more than you think you do. There are some things you don’t understand.’
‘Well, I do know this,’ she croaked, the tears beginning to flow again. ‘If you truly believe there are bloodsucking vampires in Highgate, you’re not just pathetic, you’re disgusting.’
‘April Dunne!’ shouted her father. ‘You do not and you will not speak to me like that!’
‘Stay away from me!’ she cried, backing towards the door. ‘People are being murdered around here. You deliberately brought your family to a place of danger just to impress an old man? You’d risk us all being killed for a story? What does that say about you?’
‘I’m doing the best I can for you and your mother,’ he called after her. ‘Maybe you’re right, maybe it is time you were told what’s going on. But you have to believe me, I thought I could make things better, give us all a better life.’
‘Yeah, if we live that long,’ she yelled at him as she wrenched the front door open.
‘April, please,’ he said, running down the hall after her and blocking the door with his arm. ‘Let me explain!’
‘Get off!’ she screamed, pushing past him. ‘I’ll never forgive you for this - never! I hate you!’
She ran down the path and through the gate, not even looking for traffic as she sprinted across the road and into the square. As she reached the corner of Swain’s Lane, she finally glanced back towards the house, a part of her hoping that her dad - the old, safe, protective dad - would be running after her. But there was no one behind her. The door was closed and her father had gone.
Chapter Seventeen
The ponds were beautiful despite the rain. Whatever light was pushing through the dark clouds seemed to be catching the fine droplets as they fell, forming a shimmering, misty curtain across the water. April shivered. Pretty as it was, she wished she’d thought to grab an umbrella before she’d run out of the house. She turned up the collar of her thin coat she had snatched as she ran out and huddled closer to the trunk of the willow tree she was sheltering under. ‘Thanks, tree,’ she said, patting the bark. At least something was looking out for her, keeping the drips from running down her neck. Shame it’s just a tree, she thought. After her spectacular fight with her father, she’d run down West Hill, not really caring where she ended up. Following her feet, she had splashed through puddles on her way to the Heath and found herself standing by Highgate Bathing Ponds. Aside from a few very dedicated dog-walkers in the distance, the weather had kept everyone else indoors and April had the whole park to herself. She slid down the tree trunk and hugged her knees, suddenly letting out a loud sob. Oh God, she thought, how has my life become such a mess? Only a few weeks ago, she had a secure, safe, cosy life with friends who loved her, a house with a garden and, if she was really lucky, a good chance of getting together with Neil Stevenson. She had everything she wanted, pretty much. But now? She sobbed again, her shoulders heaving, the warm tears mingling with the drips coming through the leaves. Now she had nothing. Her mother was barely there, her father was a selfish fruitcake and the only friends she could rely on were hundreds of miles away, getting on with their lives. What did she have left? She stared at the green water of the pond, stippled with raindrops, and wondered vaguely if it would be cold. Very, very cold indeed, she decided, shuddering. But it would serve them all right if she was found floating in the weeds like Ophelia in that Pre-Raphaelite painting by What’s-his-name. Or would they even notice she had gone? Letting out a long breath, April began to walk slowly around the pond and up onto Pa
rliament Hill. I bet it’s lovely here in the summer, she thought, but the notion of sunbathing and frisbees only made her feel more sad, more alone. She pulled her phone from her pocket. No messages. There hadn’t been any messages five minutes ago, either. She wished she could make some great passionate gesture, like throwing the phone into the lake, but that would mean giving up all hope. And anyway, she loved her phone. She sighed: she was as pathetic as her father. He was clinging to the crazy notion that he might find supernatural beings in Highgate, while she was clinging to the hope that Gabriel Swift might become her boyfriend. No, if she was honest, she was hoping that Gabriel Swift would decide he wanted to marry her, sweep her off to the Bahamas for a beautiful beach ceremony, and then, after a bout of amazing lovemaking, reveal that he was stupendously rich and personal friends with Justin Timberlake. She snorted at the ridiculousness of it and had to scrabble in her pocket for a damp tissue. Now she thought about it, she honestly didn’t know which of the scenarios was the most far-fetched. Vampires? Justin Timberlake? Who knows? Maybe Dad’s right, she thought. Caro seems to believe it, so does Mr Gill in the bookshop. And then there were those horrible eyes on Swain’s Lane and the photos from the party. It wasn’t exactly overwhelming evidence, but then anything was possible, wasn’t it? Three weeks ago she would never have believed she would be out walking in the rain, playing truant from school, but here she was. The church on West Hill began to sound the hour and April stopped to count. One, two, three ... ten o’clock. Her Philosophy lesson would be halfway through and she doubted anyone had noticed her absence. Gabriel, perhaps? Perhaps.
