by Mia James
‘No, it’s just ...’ He looked away, staring at a stone angel that seemed to be reaching out to them, one arm extended. ‘The dreams. They haven’t gone away.’
April tried to hide her concern with a bright smile. ‘You can’t expect it to happen overnight, can you? They were messing with your head for years and years.’
‘Yes, but the fear’s still there. With your grandfather gone, I’ll never know whether those things I see when I close my eyes are real. Whether they are memories or just dreams.’
April stopped and turned to face him. ‘Gabriel, listen to me,’ she said firmly. ‘Whether they are real or not, they are in the past. It’s what you do now – who you are now, that matters.’
‘But April ...’
‘No buts. I love you and if I’ve learned anything, it’s how fragile life is and how easily it can be snatched away, so all I want is to be here with you, with my family and my friends. Let’s live in the present, okay?’
Gabriel stroked the hair away from her face. ‘It’s just that ...’
‘You’re still a vampire?’
He gave a sad smile. ‘I wish I could kiss you.’
April nodded. It was something she hadn’t really wanted to face. All these months they had searched for Gabriel’s master, clinging to the hope that the legends had been right; that if Gabriel drank the blood of the vampire who turned him it would release him from the curse and return him to normality, whatever that was for an ex-vampire. But Gabriel had been lying on the floor unconscious when Thomas was killed. He could barely breathe, let alone drink blood. That door was closed forever.
‘We’ll find a way,’ said April. ‘We’re both alive, and where there’s life there’s hope, right?’
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘And I can still do this ...’
He grabbed her, dipping her back like a tango dancer and kissing her neck.
‘Hey! Hey, put me down!’ she laughed, ‘This is supposed to be a funeral, remember?’
They turned as Silvia, Davina and Fiona had caught up with them. ‘Hey April, your mum’s just been telling me some very risqué stories about your dad,’ said Davina, a faux-shocked look on her face. ‘I had no idea.’
April put both hands over her ears. ‘No, please! I really don’t want to hear.’
Silvia tugged at her arm. ‘Come on, little Miss Prude. We don’t want to be late for the funeral, do we?’
When they reached the tomb, April was pleased to see that Mr Gordon the vicar was already there, standing chatting with Luke and Peter. Standing a little way off were Caro and Simon. April noted with a smile that they were holding hands.
‘Look at you two,’ she said. ‘Have you been arranging the wedding with the vicar?’
Caro’s face turned almost the same shade of red as the streaks in her hair and she tried to pull her hand away, but Simon tugged it back.
‘What Caro means to say,’ said Simon, ‘is that we’re both very happy but we’re taking things one step at a time.’ He leant in to give a loud stage-whisper. ‘This is actually our first date.’
‘This is a date?’ said Caro, obviously pleased.
‘We have been kissing,’ said Simon. ‘Although not in front of the vicar.’
Caro flushed again. April burst out laughing; she couldn’t remember seeing Caro so lost for words – or so happy.
‘All right, out of the way,’ said April, elbowing Simon away. ‘We need a girls’ group hug.’
Inside the huddle, their heads together, April whispered. ‘Listen ladies, thanks. I couldn’t have ...’
‘Ah, shut up,’ interrupted Caro. ‘It’s what we do.’
‘Yeah,’ said Fiona. ‘Because you’re worth it and all that.’
April kept squeezing them until the vicar clapped his hands. ‘Now down to business. Are we all here?’
April looked around the little congregation: Caro and Fiona, Gabriel and Simon, Davina and her mother and her two uncles – real and honorary – Luke and Peter. All the people she loved and cared about, all gathered together to celebrate the man she had loved the most.
‘If you’d all like to step this way,’ said Mr Gordon, leading them to the side of the tomb. April felt her heart leap into her mouth as she saw the headstone. She had already buried him once, of course, but it was still a shock to see the grey slate standing there, as if to say “it’s really over now”. But she was glad to see that his final resting place had been so close to the steps of the tomb. He must have heard every time I came to talk to him, she thought. She couldn’t help giving a half smile when she saw the simple inscription.
‘William Dunne. He lives on.’
‘Your father’s idea of a joke,’ whispered Silvia. ‘But if you think about it, it’s pretty apt isn’t it?’
April nodded, feeling the tears welling up and not caring who saw. ‘Yes, I think he’ll always be here with us. Always.’
Her mother took her hand, holding it tight as Mr Gibson began to speak. There was no need for his prayer book; those words had already been said. Instead, he spoke about the kind of man William Dunne had been; his boundless enthusiasm, his insatiable curiosity about everything – whether it was mermaids or lawnmowers – and how his endlessly positive approach had uplifted everyone around him.
‘We should not mourn him,’ he said, ‘for he is in heaven and in all of us. We should not mourn him because he left us all richer. We should not mourn him because we will all see him again.’
By the end, April’s face was wet with tears, but she felt lighter somehow, as if the vicar’s words had lifted a weight from her shoulders. Finally, they all turned and began to walk back down the hill and April looked up at her mother. She didn’t think Silvia had ever looked more beautiful or more sad.
‘He would have liked that,’ said April.
‘Yes, I think he would.’
‘Mum, where’s Gramps going to be buried? He’s not going to be in the vault is he?’
‘No, darling,’ she smiled. ‘I don’t think that would be appropriate. No, I think we’ll send him back to the Old Country. His family can decide how to remember him, if at all.’
April nodded. She couldn’t say that she had made her peace with her grandfather, she doubted she would ever be able to forgive him, But at the same time, it did seem somehow right that Thomas Hamilton - or rather Tomas Vladescu - should find a resting place in the dark country he cared most about. Perhaps one day she could go and visit him and speak to him as she had with William Dunne, but not now - and not for a long time yet.
‘Sooo ... what’s this secret plan?’ said April.
‘Ah, that. I am going to arrange a meeting between all the vampire clans to tell them that it’s over.’
‘Over?’
‘All the wars, all the internal fighting, all the politics, I’m bringing it to an end – at least that’s the plan. Luke is going to help. I’m hoping that the vampire nation as a whole has had enough death. I’ll offer them a viable alternative: a source of blood, a comfortable life and peace.’
‘How are you going to stop them from feeding?’ asked April.
‘Actually Gabriel’s given me a few ideas. With his medical training, he thinks we can run our own donation scheme much like the legitimate one; much better than feeding from lowlifes in nightclubs, anyway. In return, the vampires must undertake to live by the rules and, vitally, bring an end to turning. No more new “made-vamps”. No more promises to the weak of eternal life.’
‘What makes you think they will go along with it?’
‘Vampires are very macho and very proud – you may have already spotted that,’ said Silvia, looking meaningfully at Gabriel.
April giggled. ‘Yes, I had noticed.’
‘They don’t like to publicise that vampires are like spiders: the female of the species is more deadly than the male. Faster, stronger, smarter, just a natural predator. And as Vampire Queen, I’m more powerful than any of them. I’m hoping the threat of my retribution will be eno
ugh.’ She let the words hang in the air, her eyes meeting April’s. She didn’t have to continue. It explained how Silvia had been able to destroy the King Vampire that night in the hall of Ravenwood. How her mother had been able to kill April’s grandfather with such terrible ruthlessness. April nodded sadly.
‘Having a daughter who’s a Fury won’t do any harm, I suppose?’
Silvia snorted. ‘Vamps are also very superstitious. Young vampires are told stories about the Fury the way Bleeders are told about the Big Bad Wolf. So yes, it will be a strong deterrent.’
There was something else that had been nagging at April.
‘So who is the third Fury?’
‘Third?’
‘Well that’s the legend, isn’t it? There are three Furies every generation. So there was Isabelle, then me – where’s the other one?’
Silvia shook her head slowly.
‘Wales? Scotland? Next door? Maybe we’ll never know – in fact, I hope we never do. After all, you’re only going to find out you’re a Fury by coming into contact with a vampire. And that’s my plan; the more they’re underground, the more they’re under my control, the less likely it is to happen.’
April nodded. ‘Thanks Mum.’
‘What for?’
‘For trusting me. For telling me the truth – finally. Not knowing what’s going on, that’s the one thing that’s been driving me nuts since we got here.’
‘I know, but I couldn’t…’
‘I understand,’ said April, ‘But let me know what’s happening from now on, okay? I’ve had enough surprises for one lifetime.’
She looked at her mother awkwardly.
‘And there’s one other thing,’ she began, ‘I think what you’re doing is brilliant, but I’m not going to get involved.’
‘No, darling. I wouldn’t ever want that. I want you to have the life I could never have with your dad. I want you to be free of all this.’ She looked over at Gabriel who was laughing with Caro. ‘And if that boy is the one for you, then I want you to have him, too.’
Silvia was carrying a large leather tote over her shoulder; April had assumed she thought she would need a lot of tissues, but inside was a parcel, gift-wrapped in red polka dot paper.
‘Here,’ said Silvia. ‘For you.’
April frowned. There was a feeling of finality about Silvia’s gesture, as if this was one last thing she needed to do.
‘Mum, you’re not going back to Scotland are you?’.
Silvia laughed. ‘No, darling. I’m not going anywhere. And neither, I hope, are you – not for a while, anyway?’
April grinned. Two months ago, Silvia would have needed wild horses to drag her back through that yellow door in Pond Square. But now? Now she couldn’t think of anywhere she would rather be than that poky, creaky room at the top of the house with the view of the spindly tree tops.
‘No, I’m not going anywhere either,’ said April. ‘But what’s all this about?’ She held up the parcel.
‘You’ll see,’ she nodded over to Gabriel. ‘It’s for both of you. Choose a private moment to open it.’ She left April standing there as Peter stepped over.
‘Two things: one, your father would have been very proud of you. Is very proud of you.’
‘Stop it,’ said April, giving him a hug, ‘You’ll set me off again.’
‘And two, I think Davina would like a word.’
He pointed over to the girl who was standing half-hidden on an overgrown side-path, beckoning.
‘Tell Gabriel I’ll catch him up,’ said April and followed Davina down the secluded pathway into the trees.
‘So where next?’ asked April as they walked.
‘You’ll see,’ said Davina.
‘No, I mean, what are you going to do next? I’m guessing that Ravenwood is no longer going to be the haven it once was for you.’
Davina sighed. ‘I was thinking I’d pop across the Pond, see if I can snag myself a Silicon Valley squillionaire on Rodeo Drive.’
‘You’re going to Hollywood?’
Davina gave a wry smile.
‘Going to the one place in the world where having your picture taken is almost mandatory? Not a good move for one of the undead, sweetie. Besides which, I’d miss all this.’
She waved an arm at all the overgrown headstones.
‘The graveyard? Really?’
‘Not the cemetery per se, no. These paths are not a good environment for a girl who enjoys high-heels. But the zillions of vamps in the area, I suppose they are my people in a way - and, well, there’s a job to do.’
‘Job? What job?’
‘Didn’t Silvia tell you? I’m going to be sticking around to help her out with her plot to decommission the Suckers.’
April blinked at her, then began to laugh. ‘You?’
‘Why not me?’ said Davina, clearly stung.
‘No offence Davina, but you’ve spent the last two years working for the vampires in their crazed plan to take over the world. You wouldn’t be the first person I’d think of if I wanted to put an end to the blood-sucking.’
‘Point taken. Still, they do say ‘set a thief to catch a thief’, don’t they? And I think Silvia’s going to need someone of my – ah – skill-set if it starts to get hairy.’
April nodded thoughtfully. Perhaps Davina was right; why not her? She was underhand, manipulative and ruthless: not the qualities you’d want in a nursery school teacher perhaps, but ideal for the task facing Silvia. And something else too; when Davina said it might get ‘hairy’, what she actually meant was ‘bloody’. It was unlikely that the vampire community were going to go into retirement quietly. So with Davina in her corner, April felt a little better about leaving her mother to her secret war.
‘Can I just ask why? I mean, I’m glad you’re in my mum’s corner, but why join her?’
Davina looked away, her face sad. ‘What else am I going to do? You’re right, I can’t go back to Ravenwood and our time was running out there anyway. And I figured I Might be able to even the scales. If Charles Dickens is right, I’m going to have a hell of a chain to drag through eternity.’
April stopped and looked up. They had walked quite a way into the cemetery now and the atmosphere, so warm and friendly before the funeral, had changed. Was the canopy above them thicker? Had the sun gone in? Then April understood why. They were standing in front of the tomb known as the Sleeping Angel, the one Chessy had told her was dedicated to her memory. April stopped and gave Davina a sideways look.
‘Was this where you were taking me?’
Davina nodded.
‘So what happened?’ asked April. ‘To Chessy, I mean.’
‘Oh, I didn’t have to do anything much – you’d done all the hard work for me.’
April squeezed her eyes shut. ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to.’
The way you didn’t mean to kill Davina’s brother, said the voice in her head. Why don’t you tell her about that too?
She shook her head, trying to clear it. What with the subsequent drama at Ravenwood, April had managed to push the struggle with Chessy to the back of her mind, but every now and then she’d get a flash of that image: the black snakes slithering and hissing down Chessy’s neck, the look of horror on her face as she finally realised what was happening.
‘Don’t feel bad, sweetie,’ said Davina. ‘She was a bad egg, remember? Made a terrible mess of your grandfather’s front step and all.’
April didn’t want to think of the body hanging on Gramps’ gate – and she didn’t want to think about Gramps either. Not today, not now. There was plenty of time for that later.
‘But what actually happened to her, to her body anyway?’
‘I thought that would be obvious,’ said Davina. ‘I put her where she was always meant to be.’ She raised her eyebrows and nodded towards the sleeping statue.
‘You put her inside?’ gasped April.
Davina flexed a slender arm. ‘I’m very strong when roused. Besides,
I thought it was rather poetic.’
April frowned.
‘Why do you think she tried to kill me? I mean, she kept dropping hints that she knew who the King was. If that was true, why risk killing me?’
‘She was insane, darling, couldn’t you tell?’
‘Yes, but even so. There seemed to be some method in her madness.’
‘Oh yes, Chessy was always playing some sort of game, but she was an expert in keeping her hands clean. The vandalism here and at Redfearne’s? She will have got some minion to do that for her. And that’s why Ling seemed to take over as top dog after I was ousted; you can bet Chessy was pulling her strings, but poor Ling was the figurehead – and a scapegoat if anything went wrong. She would have probably found a way to blame me for sticking Calvin on the gate when she found out your grandfather hated the idea.’
April thought of that night, of the body just hanging there, of the dark pool of blood. She wrapped her arms around herself.
‘Can we go?’ she said.
They followed the path in a loop around the hill, finally coming out in the courtyard by the chapel. As they passed through the gate, April noticed that Miss Leicester was turned away, apparently staring into a filing cabinet. Is she making a point, perhaps? wondered April. She couldn’t really blame the woman.
Across the road, April could see the Osbourne’s black town car.
‘This is it then,’ said Davina. ‘Wish me luck.’
‘Luck? Where are you going?’
‘I’ve got to go and empty the mansion, remove all trace of the Osbourne clan. It’s not going to be easy getting Barbara out – might need a crow-bar - but we can’t stay there, especially after...well, you know: now Nicholas has left the building. I can’t imagine Agropharm is going to keep paying the mortgage. I’m thinking of burning it to the ground just to spite them.’
‘Where will you go?’
‘Pond Square?’
Davina laughed at the look of alarm on April’s face.
‘Relax, I’m joking – it was nice of you to have me to stay, but I think being somewhere so small and creepy would send me mental inside a week.’
