Alfie the Werewolf 4: Wolf Wood
Page 9
Alfie jumped up and stretched. He stuck his nose in the air as if he to smell the light of the full moon.
‘Wrow, I need to run and howl at the moon and go wild.’
Noura jumped up too. ‘Wrraaa, I’ll come with you.’
Together the two young werewolves tore down the path between the headstones, their happy howls echoing over the graveyard.
Dad felt like going wild too and started playing with the Scoffle. Grandpa Werewolf looked on with a smile and stood up carefully. ‘Look at this, my leg’s fixed.’
Tim went over to stand next to him.
‘I’m glad you can walk again, Grandpa.’ He was holding the Boss’s gold fountain pen in one hand and turning it around between his fingers. ‘Grandpa Werewolf, can I ask you something?’
‘Ask away, Tim.’
‘Er, what’s, um, Alfie’s real father’s name?’
Grandpa Werewolf closed one eye for a moment. ‘Alfie’s real father? Andy.’
‘So Alfie Span’s father is called Andy?’
Grandpa Werewolf nodded. ‘Sure. Andy is a very common name, you know.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Tim stared thoughtfully at the letters on the pen: A.S. He shook his head.
No, that couldn’t be true, he thought. Or could it? Or is it just coincidence? Should he tell Alfie?
In the distance he heard Alfie and Noura’s happy howls. Suddenly he felt Grandpa Werewolf’s paw on his shoulder.
‘You know what, Tim,’ Grandpa said softly. ‘Alfie’s lucky to live with you. Your father is his father now. Your mother is his mother. And you’re his brother. He’s happy. Understand?’
Tim nodded.
There were more cheerful noises. Dad and the Scoffle were rolling over the ground wrestling with each other.
‘Catch me if you can,’ shouted Dad.
Grandpa Werewolf looked up at the moon.
‘It’s better for some secrets to stay secret, Tim. Some secrets aren’t for now, they’re for later.’
Tim looked at Grandpa Werewolf with surprise. Can Grandpa read my mind? he thought.
Grandpa didn’t say any more. He half closed his eyes, raised his head and let the moon shine on his face.
Tim sighed and slipped the pen into his pocket.
It was almost midnight and the full moon was still clearly visible in the sky. It was time for Alfie, Dad, Tim and Noura to go home. Quietly, they said goodbye to Grandpa Werewolf. Leo was still snoring on the grave and they didn’t want to wake him up. The Scoffle stayed behind in Werewolf Wood where it felt most at home.
As they walked out of the werewolf graveyard, a cold wind started to blow. Alfie looked back. For a second or two hundreds of ghostly werewolves were visible above the graves. They waved.
‘Goodbye, Alfie the Werewolf,’ a chorus of werewolf voices rustled. ‘You saved us. Thank you.’
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