by Pat Spence
“I hope so,” I said, feeling confused. The situation was more complicated than I’d realised, but at least it explained why Violet had been so cold towards me. And perhaps that was why the servants were so dismissive of me. They saw me as a threat to family unity. Loyalty to their family came first, and I was perceived as the interloper. Suddenly, our theory about vampires and strangeness appeared very far-fetched. I’d allowed myself to read far more into the situation than was actually there. I began to feel rather stupid.
“So, what you have bought for Violet that will make things better?” I asked Theo.
“Wait and see,” he answered.
By this time, we’d arrived back at the hall and Theo parked Martha in the courtyard in front of the house. As we got out, right on cue, Joseph appeared.
“Nice wheels, Theo,” he commented, drily.
Theo threw him the key.
“A little renovation project for you, Jo,” he said. “This is Martha, Emily’s car. Failed her MOT. Think you can do anything?”
“I should think so,” he said, running his hand over Martha’s bonnet.
I stared. Martha looked immediately brighter and cleaner.
“How did you do that, Joseph?” I asked, astounded.
“Do what?” he asked, looking puzzled.
“Make her glow like that?”
He grinned. “A trick of the light, that’s all. Leave her with me, Emily, I’ll soon have her as good as new.”
“Thanks Joseph, I really appreciate this.”
“Come on, Emily,” called Theo, opening the hall’s huge oak front door and holding it open for me. I followed him inside, turning to give Joseph and Martha a final look. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was really beginning to gleam. Joseph beamed at me.
Inside, no one was about, which made me feel better. I certainly wasn’t up to meeting Aquila or Pantera. The sounds of Clair de Lune wafted on the air from the ballroom. Violet was playing the piano.
“Come upstairs,” Theo whispered, and I followed him up the enormous carved central stairway. He led the way along the corridor, stopping by one of the bedroom doors.
“It’s in here,” he said conspiratorially, turning the brass doorknob and opening the door. It was one of the rooms he’d shown me on my previous visit, a large airy room, beautifully decorated in shades of red and pink.
“Over here,” said Theo, indicating the sofa, where a large cardboard box had been placed. Now I was intrigued.
He carefully opened the box and lifted out the most gorgeous grey kitten. It was tiny, no more than about seven or eight weeks old, a small fluffball of grey and white fur, that sat in the palm of his hand. He looked up at me.
“What d’you think?” he asked.
“It’s beautiful, Theo,” I said, totally taken aback. “What a lovely surprise. Violet will adore it. What is it? Girl or boy?”
“It’s a boy,” he answered, “I call him Grey Boy for the moment, but I’m sure Violet will give him a name.”
“Can I hold him?” I asked, and Theo placed the small bundle of fur into my hands.
He was the prettiest little kitten I’d ever seen. A tiny little face looked up at me, with a small pink nose, long white whiskers and huge dark eyes. He made a plaintive little cry as he looked up at me and I held him close to my jacket, giving him warmth and comfort.
“Oh, Theo, what a brilliant idea,” I said, thinking what a kind, thoughtful person he was. Who else would have thought of doing something like this?
“Can we give him to Violet now?”
“Stay here with Grey Boy and I’ll go and get her,” he said, walking to the door, then turning to me and saying, “Remember, he’s from both of us.”
He closed the door behind him and I looked at the tiny little creature before me, playfully trying to catch the toggles of my jacket. He was perfect, a friendly, playful little kitten that represented a gesture of friendship between myself, Theo and Violet.
“Let’s hope you smooth things over, Grey Boy,” I whispered into the soft fur on his head.
A few minutes later, the door opened and Theo appeared with Violet.
“Oh, hello, Emily,” she said in surprise, “I didn’t realise you were here. What’s this about?”
She suddenly saw the little grey bundle in my hands and squealed.
“A kitten! Oh, he’s so cute. Where did he come from? Can I hold him?”
“He’s yours,” said Theo. “A present from Emily and me. Go on, take him.”
I placed Grey Boy in her arms and she cuddled him, looking up at us.
“He’s gorgeous. Thank you. I wasn’t expecting this.”
The kitten mewed at her and tried to paw her hair hanging over her shoulder.
“Oh, look at him,” she beamed at us, “isn’t he just adorable?”
Theo and I glanced at each other and breathed a sigh of relief. The plan was working. Hopefully things were on the mend and we could look forward to a new era of friendship.
“Does he have a name?” asked Violet.
“Well, I just call him Grey Boy,” said Theo, “but if you want to name him, it’s up to you.”
Violet looked at the kitten closely. “Grey Boy,” she said and he meowed. “He seems to answer to his name, doesn’t he?” she asked. “Perhaps I’ll just stick with Grey Boy. It’s to the point. He’s grey and he’s a boy.”
We all laughed and I felt the iciness that had been around us for the last couple of weeks begin to thaw.
“Come on, let’s take him downstairs,” said Violet. She cuddled the kitten close to her. “Thank you. He’s beautiful.”
She carried Grey Boy downstairs, across the reception area and into the old ballroom, where Viyesha and Leon sat on the huge purple sofas, warming themselves by the fireside. A bottle of wine stood on the coffee table and they drank from exquisitely ornate, old-fashioned wine glasses.
“Emily, I didn’t realise you were here,” said Viyesha, placing her glass on the table and rising from her seat.
She looked stunning in a close-fitting cream shift dress, her hair pinned up, showing off ornate silver earrings and a matching silver necklace that bore a blue crystal similar to the one I was wearing. I was glad I’d tucked it beneath my T-shirt. I wasn’t sure Theo had told his parents about it yet, and didn’t want to place him in an awkward position.
“Will you join us for a glass of wine?” asked Leon, looking once again like a Hollywood film star, with his straw blond hair, piercing blue eyes and pale blue linen jacket.
“No thanks, Leon,” I said politely. “I should be going, really.”
“Look, mother,” said Violet, holding up the kitten. “See what Theo and Emily have got for me. Isn’t he adorable?”
“He’s gorgeous,” said Viyesha. “Bring him here.”
Violet carried the kitten over to her mother, and she gently stroked his head, while Grey Boy tried to catch her fingers with his paws and we all laughed.
Leon looked across at Theo. “Nice move, Theo,” he said.
“Come and have a seat,” said Viyesha, indicating for Theo and me to join her on the sofa.
For the next half hour, I enjoyed a pleasant family evening with the de Lucis family. Violet sat on the floor playing with the kitten, while Theo and I chatted with his parents. The servants were nowhere to be seen, which made matters easier, and the conversation bowled along, talking about Hartsdown College, their future plans for Hartswell Hall, life in the village and all manner of ordinary, everyday subjects. Viyesha, of course, had the gift of making me feel relaxed and at ease, and I found I was enjoying myself. I even allowed Leon to pour me a small glass of wine.
As I laughed with them, I thought how normal it all seemed and how ridiculous our vampire theories were. The de Lucis’s were just different to me, that was all. They had a moneyed, cultured background I could only dream about, and that’s what had created the problems in my mind. They were friendly and welcoming, and I really couldn’t ask for more than that. Even th
eir beauty seemed less overwhelming than last time. Theo looked across at me fondly and I suddenly realised how much I wanted to be part of this family. It was early days, but I was already starting to feel closer to them all.
At 9.15, I decided it was time to leave. Viyesha fondly kissed my cheek and for a brief moment I caught a scent of her perfume. It was such a delicate, floral fragrance that instantly brought a picture of warm summer days and happy times into my mind. I made a mental note to ask her what it was. Leon kissed my cheek and, once again, the feeling of immense strength and power flooded into my being. I felt safe just standing next to him.
“Emily, it’s been delightful,” said Viyesha, in her soft, well-spoken voice.
“We look forward to seeing you again,” said Leon, twinkling at me and smiling.
“Thank you for a lovely evening, both of you,” I said warmly, adding to Violet, who still sat playing with Grey Boy in front of the fire. “Bye, Violet, see you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Emily,” she answered. “Hang on, I’ll come with you and see you out.”
She scooped up Grey Boy into her arms and followed Theo and me across the ballroom and out into the reception area.
“You’re going to love exploring this old house, aren’t you, little one,” she said, nuzzling her face into his soft face. “Thanks again, Emily, it was very kind of you and Theo.”
I looked at Theo, an unspoken message going between us. Things were going to be all right.
“I’ll walk you back,” he said, gallantly. “It’s getting dark and I don’t want you wandering through the grounds on your own.”
I gladly accepted his offer. Hartswell Hall grounds were one area where I didn’t feel entirely safe, especially not at night, and even more so after the events of the other day. Once I reached the main road, I’d be fine.
As Theo opened the huge oak studded door at the entrance, things seemed to occur very quickly. One minute Violet was holding the kitten in her hand, standing waving goodbye, the next moment Aquila was driving into the courtyard in the sleek, black Jaguar. He was driving fast and swerved to go round Martha, who was still parked there. Startled by the sudden movement, Grey Boy leapt out of Violet’s arms and within a split second had run into the pathway of the Jaguar. There was nothing Aquila could do. The wheels turned, the brakes screeched and the kitten disappeared under the car. Violet screamed, and Aquila, seeing that something was wrong, brought the car to an immediate standstill. Theo darted from my side, trying to save the kitten, but even for him, it had been too fast. He reached under the car and brought out a lifeless, bloodied, small grey body. It had been instant and the kitten had obviously felt nothing, but the shock was palpable amongst us all.
“Grey Boy,” sobbed Violet, grabbing his tiny body from Theo. “Wake up, please wake up.”
Her father gently took her arm and looked at the kitten.
“Violet, it’s no good. He’s gone. Give him to me.” He took the kitten in his hand and Viyesha led Violet, sobbing and shaking into the house, murmuring words of comfort. I watched helplessly, aware that there was nothing I could do, and that our gesture of friendship had been instantly erased. Aquila scowled horribly and stormed into the house after them, muttering, “How did I know she had a kitten? And whose heap of junk is this parked here? If I didn’t have to swerve, it wouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s best you go, Emily,” said Leon, holding the tiny grey ball of fur in one hand. “I’ll deal with this. Theo, walk Emily home, this has been a shock for all of us.”
Theo took my hand, leading me silently across the courtyard. As we walked down the main driveway, he put his arm round me, drawing me close.
“Don’t worry, Emily, Violet will be fine. Remember, we come from a country where death and disease are commonplace. She’s seen worse than this. It’s not as bad as it seems.”
I looked up at him, tearfully, hardly trusting myself to speak.
“What a horrible end to a lovely evening. Poor Grey Boy. He didn’t deserve that. He was only little. And poor Violet, she had him for less than an hour. If only I hadn’t brought my car over. This is all my fault. You were trying to make things better and I’ve spoilt it all. ”
“Listen, it was my idea to bring your car here,” said Theo, “and it wasn’t your fault the kitten bolted. If anyone’s at fault, it’s Aquila. As usual, he was driving too fast.”
“I still feel responsible.”
“Emily,” said Theo, tenderly, “trust me. Things will be all right. I promise.”
He kissed me gently on the lips.
16. Surveillance II
The large black bird skimmed through the night sky, riding the thermals and surveying the village below. Its wingtips were outstretched and flight feathers spread, smaller contour feathers overlapping to smooth the flow of air and ensure optimum performance. Its beak curved downwards in a cruel arc, ready to tear apart any fresh meat, while its sharp black eyes scoured the air and fields looking for prey.
The nearly new moon was momentarily hidden behind a lone cloud, briefly concealing its light, so that fields, woodland and village were cloaked in darkness. The air was crisp and cold, and a light frost had already begun to coat grassland and trees, pavements and road surfaces, creating a sugared finish that twinkled faintly under the misty glow of the street lamps.
The bird was hungry and needed to eat, and flew high over the fields to the south of the village. Spying the white bobtails of a rabbit family below, as the moon emerged, it swooped on its unsuspecting prey, silent and deadly, gathering speed as it neared the ground, talons outstretched and ready for the kill. Attacked from behind, the rabbit knew nothing and death came quickly, the bird rapidly gaining height with its bloodied meal suspended below. Carrying its prey to the safety of a large old oak tree, it quickly tore away the flesh with its large, hooked beak, forcing huge pieces of fresh meat down its throat until all was consumed.
Then, satiated and re-energised, the bird took once more to the skies, flying upward with fresh intent, focused on its mission ahead. Like a dark shadow, it flew over the honeyed walls, slated roofs and turreted towers of the sleeping hall, circling twice as it scanned all below, then flying to the east for a short distance until it spied its target.
Gliding through the night air on silent wings, it came to rest on the slim branches of an ornamental cherry tree that stood in the garden of a village house. The bird manoeuvred itself precariously, almost too heavy for the willowy branch on which it perched. Still bare after winter, with small brown buds only just appearing, the tree provided little camouflage or cover, but the bird seemed unaware, its attention rapt as it gazed through an upper window of the house. The curtains fortunately remained open, giving the bird a perfect view of the room within, where a girl lay sleeping on the bed. The bird’s eyes narrowed, and curling its beak down unwittingly, it gazed with dislike at the sleeping form.
Inside, the girl tossed and turned in the throes of a disturbing dream, peace of mind destroyed by dark terrors within. As she threw her head back on the pillow, arms flailing backwards, the bird saw with a jolt the necklace that came to rest on her breastbone. It was a necklace the bird instantly recognised and had seen before many times; a silver chain bearing a pale blue crystal…
In the dark grey, pre-dawn light, the crystal began to glow intensely, until its clear blue light was shining brightly. Nightmare over, the girl slept calmly, a serene expression on her face. The bird eyed the crystal with anger and loathing, only too aware of the protection it afforded the wearer. Gathering its wings closer to its body, it tightened its grip on the branch, sunk its head into its neck and prepared to watch.
For the moment, intervention was prevented, but surveillance and patience would soon provide a chink in the armour, of that it was sure.
17. A Beast in the Fields
Watching from an upper window, which afforded the best view of the sheep and the field in which they grazed, Grace Wisterley took a sip from her hip flask and looke
d at her watch. Midnight. By her side lay her husband’s 12-bore shotgun, unused for the last five years, but with a full chamber should the need arise.
“Just try it one more time, you horror, and I’ll have ya, see if I don’t,” she muttered into the night. “That’s the last of my sheep you’ll be taking. X-ray vision that’s what I’ve got, see better in the night than I do in the day.”
She pulled on an old red woollen hat, making sure her ears were well-covered and tucked back straggling grey hairs with hands that were protected with fingerless black knitted gloves. Her ancient Drizabone coat covered her like a huge brown autumn leaf, making her look like a vast, overgrown toad, and her Hunter wellingtons left fragments of dried soil on the threadbare landing carpet.
Picking up the shotgun and checking the hipflask was in her pocket, she walked down the stairs, along the hallway and into the old farmhouse kitchen. The ancient Aga kept things nice and warm, and for a second, she hesitated, unwilling to exchange the cosy warmth for the cold darkness. Then with sudden resolve, she quietly opened the back door and let herself out. The night around her was silent and dark, shrubs and bushes creating strange, eerie shapes, like tortured souls that raised their misshapen limbs in silent supplication to the sky. She shuddered involuntarily and tightened her grip around the shotgun.
Purposefully, she strode down through the garden, out of the rear gate and into the field that adjoined her house. As the moon emerged from behind a cloud, she could see the silent shapes of the sheep, like small blocks of wood, dotted around the field.
“It’s alright, my beauties,” she said under her breath. “Don’t take any notice of me. I’m here to protect ya. Nothin’ll attack ya while I’m in the field. An’ if they do, they won’t last long.”
She sat down on an old upturned milk crate that lay in a corner of the field and settled herself in, pulling her hat down and her coat around her. This was going to be a long night, but she had to be ready. Slowly, she scoured the field, looking for any sign of movement, but all appeared still. Perhaps the creature wouldn’t come tonight. In a way, she hoped not. But if it didn't come tonight, it might come tomorrow, and sooner or later she had to take action. She couldn't go on losing sheep, that was for sure. How many of her prize Jacobs had she lost now? Too many. Four in the last week, three the week before. The flock was diminishing in front of her eyes and so far, she’d done nothing to stop it. The council had assured her that putting up posters would solve the problem, advising dog owners to keep their animals on a lead or pay the consequences.
