Little Vampire

by Angela Sommer-Bodenburg

“No!” smiled Anna. “At least, not with us around.”

  They went down the steps. One candle was burning, and by its light they could see Rudolph sitting in his coffin reading, while in the coffin next to him a bigger, stronger vampire was tossing and turning. Rudolph looked up from his book and laid a finger across his lips. “He’s asleep,” he whispered, and motioned to them to come and sit on the edge of his coffin.

  “What’s wrong with him?” asked Tony.

  “’Flu,” replied Rudolph, “and no wonder, out in the damp air every night.”

  Tony looked furtively at the slumbering form. A certain similarity with Rudolph was unmistakable, but Gruesome Gregory’s face was paler and the hollows of his eyes even more pronounced. “He looks ill,” said Tony.

  “Mmm,” nodded Rudolph. “Drained of blood, poor thing.”

  A deep growl came from Gregory, making Tony shrink back in fright. He hoped Anna had been right about how harmless her elder brother was!

  “I wanted to come and see you, Rudolph,” he explained, “but since you’re better ...”

  “You’re not going already?” cried Anna.

  “I-I ought to get back home,” said Tony. “I haven’t got my key.” He had to get out before Gregory woke up!

  But already, it was too late. Gruesome Gregory opened his eyes. He sat up, grumbling, and stared at Tony. “Who is this?” he asked in a menacing voice.

  “Oh, Greg,” crooned Anna. “This is Tony. Don’t you remember, we told you about him.”

  “Oh, yes,” said Gregory, sounding disappointed. “Tony. I’m hungry.”

  “You can go out again tomorrow,” soothed Anna.

  Gregory yawned. His mouth opened so wide that Tony could see the rows of gleaming pointed teeth; his eye teeth were over an inch long! Tony shivered. He wished he could get out of the vault, but of course the worst thing he could do would be to show he was frightened: that would make him easy prey.

  Gregory was smiling now. “Don’t come too close to me,” he said. “You might catch something you don’t want!”

  “Er – quite,” said Tony, who had no intention of getting any closer to Gregory. “Perhaps it would be better if I went home.”

  “Why?” sniggered Gregory. “Don’t you like it here?”

  “Y-yes,” Tony protested, stuttering. “Of course I do. It’s just that I don’t want to get ’flu.”

  “Let’s play ludo!” proposed Gregory, and he pulled a long, slim box out of his coffin.

  “Yes, let’s!” agreed Anna excitedly. “Come on, Ru­dolph, help me set up the table.”

  They brought a little coffin over from the wall and turned it over so that it made a perfect table between Gregory’s coffin and the one next door. Gregory set out the board with the counters on it, and they all gathered round, Tony still rather hesitant.

  “I’ll be black,” said Gregory.

  “Bags I red!” said Anna.

  “What colour do you want?” Rudolph asked Tony.

  “Oh, er, yellow,” said Tony.

  “Who’s going to start?” asked Anna.

  “Tony,” said Gregory. “Guests are always allowed to start.” He pushed the dice over to Tony, who shook them and threw. It was a four.

  “Bad luck,” said Gregory with a gloating grin. “You have to throw a six to start.”

  Now it was Rudolph’s turn, which gave Tony a chance to look at the board properly. It looked like a normal one, except that the ‘counters’ had pointed teeth.

  “How did you get the game?” he whispered to Anna.

  “Uncle Theo found it for us,” she replied.

  “Found it?” asked Tony in disbelief.

  “Well,” she tittered, “perhaps it would be better to call it ‘booty.’”

  Gregory had just had his turn and had thrown a two. “Unfair!” he grumbled, and flung the dice away in a temper. Rudolph ran after it and brought it back to the table. Now it was Anna’s turn. She threw carefully, and it landed just at the edge of the board: a six!

  “Doesn’t count!” shouted Gregory. “Cocked dice!”

  “It isn’t!” stormed Anna. “It’s flat on the board!” Before she could pick up the dice to throw again, Gregory brought his fist crashing down on the coffin, so that the dice flew up in the air. Anna went crimson with fury. “You can’t ever lose, can you?” she fumed.

  Gregory looked offended, but he did not say anything. He lay back in his coffin with dignity and shut his eyes. Rudolph shrugged his shoulders and began to look for the scattered pieces of the game, which he carefully put back in the box. Meanwhile, a contented snoring rose from the coffin.

  “Is he asleep?” asked Tony.

  Anna shook her head. “He’s only pretending. But mind you don’t disturb him!”

  “He’s got quite a temper,” whispered Tony.

  “Ssh,” said Anna. “Don’t get him worked up again. It’s just a sign of puberty.”

  “Of what?” asked Tony.

  “Growing up,” explained Anna.

  “Oh, I see.” Tony thought of Gregory’s grating voice, which seemed to change pitch constantly. “His voice is breaking then?”

  “Exactly,” said Anna, “and that’s why he’s so moody and quick tempered. But the worst thing is that he’ll never grow out of it. He died in puberty, and there he’ll stay.”

  At that moment, the stone at the entrance of the vault began to move. Gregory went on pretending to be asleep, but Rudolph was rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed in horror on the entrance. Anna pulled Tony to one side and whispered, “You must hide!”

  “Where?” gasped Tony.

  “In one of the coffins!”

  “I’ll go in Rudolph’s then,” stammered Tony. At least he knew that one, and had managed to survive the revolting smell once already. He dreaded to think what horrors the other coffins might hold in store.

  Anna helped him to clamber in, and then shut the lid. It was not a moment too soon: already there was the sound of hurrying feet coming down the steps, and a voice, which Tony recognised only too well called: “Drat and botheration! This could only happen to me!”

  “What happened, Aunt Dorothy?”

  “My false teeth!” she complained. “I must have left them behind in my coffin.”

  Tony heard her clattering across the vault.

  “There they are,” she said in relief. “Imagine if I’d lost them for good!” Apparently she had put them in place by now, for these last words sounded much more distinct.

  “Right, I’ll be off again,” she declared. Then she stopped. “Rudolph, why aren’t you in your coffin?”

  “I’m feeling much better, Aunt,” explained Rudolph.

  “Nonsense! I’m sure you’re not,” insisted Aunt Dorothy. “What would your mother say? Get back into your coffin immediately!”

  Tony’s heart nearly stopped beating.

  Footsteps came nearer, the lid opened, and a figure clambered into the coffin. “You see?” hissed Rudolph. “Plenty of room for two!” Out loud he called: “Good night, everyone!” and closed the lid. They heard Aunt Dorothy clatter back up the steps, and a minute later, Anna gave the all clear.

  However, all that came from the coffin was a low moan. Anna opened the lid anxiously and saw Rudolph leaning over Tony, whose eyes were tightly closed. She called out in alarm: “Rudolph! You wouldn’t hurt Tony!” Her cry woke Tony, who gave a yelp when he saw the vampire.

  Slowly, Rudolph lifted his head. “Have you all gone crazy?” he said calmly. “I was only giving Tony artificial respiration.”

  “Artificial respiration?” echoed Tony suspiciously, carefully feeling his neck; but there was not the slightest trace of a bite, and no blood either.

  “You had fainted,” explained Rudolph, “and I thought I could …”

  “Oh, you and your first aid course!” scoffed Anna.

  “I’m going,” said Tony limply. His legs felt like cottonwool. He sat up slowly, and climbed out of the coffin.

  “
Poor Tony,” Anna said. “I’ll take you home.”

  “Thanks,” mumbled Tony.

  Together they climbed the steps. They had nearly reached the top, when Rudolph popped up next to them. He looked apologetic. “I’m sorry, Tony,” he said shamefacedly. “I-I only wanted to help you. You don’t really believe I’d ...”

  “No, of course not,” said Tony, holding out his hand. “It’s forgotten.”

  “I’m glad,” breathed Rudolph. “I thought you might have had enough of us!”

  “Come on, Tony!” called Anna. “We can go now.”

  “O.K., then,” said Tony, turning in the narrow passage. “See you on Saturday.” He never heard Rudolph’s reply, for Anna had taken his hand and pulled him up into the fresh air.

  Anna’s Idea

  THE CLEAN NIGHT AIR restored Tony once more to his sen­ses. He breathed in great gulps of it, and stretched his stiff limbs. Anna watched him, smiling.

  “Was it that bad?” she asked.

  “In the coffin, you mean? No.” At least it was over now, and he was safely out of the clutches of Gregory and Aunt Dorothy. “It was just a bit narrow,” he explained. “And rather – stuffy.”

  “Stuffy?” giggled Anna. “Well, what do you expect? We can’t ever air them, exactly. And as for these old cloaks ...”

  She broke off, looking worriedly around her as if something had just occurred to her. “We ought to get going,” she whispered. “Who knows if old McRookery is lurking around the place.”

  “Have you seen him?”

  “No. But it’s best not to take chances.” She took off into the air, Tony following unsteadily.

  “There was something I wanted to ask you,” she said. “Are there any love stories about vampires?”

  “Love stories?” Tony thought for a moment. “I can’t think of any.”

  They flew along together without speaking. After a while, Anna said dreamily, “I read one once which had a happy ending.”

  “Oh?” said Tony. “What happened?”

  “Well, the boy ended up as a vampire too, and they both lived happily ever after.”

  “Yuk!” said Tony. “I don’t call that a happy ending!”

  “Don’t you?” Anna looked at him with wide imploring eyes. “Not even if it was with me?”

  Tony was aware he would have to be careful. This was dangerous ground again. “Well, I can’t ever become a vampire you see.”

  “Why not?” asked Anna. “If I ...” She paused, realising that it was perhaps not quite the right moment to initiate Tony into the finer points of how to become a vampire. It might scare him off!

  “Er, you see, as soon as I get my teeth I’ll be able to …”

  “I do not want to become a vampire!” interrupted Tony.

  “You don’t?” Anna could not believe it.

  “No!” he said emphatically, irritated that she should presume he would. “And what’s more, I haven’t the slightest intention of becoming one!” This was going a bit too far!

  He flew on ahead, without deigning to look at her. It was not until he heard a sob from behind that he turned round.

  “Y-you don’t l-like me,” she sniffed. “Y-you’ve got another g-girl friend.”

  “I haven’t!” insisted Tony. “I promise you that!”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  She sighed with relief, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “It doesn’t matter if you’re not a vampire,” she said, “as long as we’re friends.” She began to smile again.

  “We’re almost there,” said Tony hurriedly, even though in fact there was another quarter of a mile to go. Why did Anna always have to start these embarrassing conversations? “I think I can see the lights,” he continued, beginning to fly more quickly. He would not normally be in such a hurry to get home, but with Anna on his heels, it was a different story. He couldn’t bear to think of what other questions she might dream up to ask him!

  In the living room, his parents had switched on the television. Tony only hoped they had not noticed his absence, as then he could simply creep into his own room.

  “The window’s shut!” hissed Anna, who could see much better than Tony in the dark.

  “Oh, no!” Tony was taken aback. It was true. As they came nearer, he could see that the windows were indeed fastened from the inside. Not even the little one at the top was open.

  “Now I’ll have to ring the bell,” he said worriedly, “and they’ll find out everything.”

  “Say you went for a walk,” suggested Anna.

  “I’ll tell them the truth,” said Tony. “They’ll never believe it anyway.”

  Anna went with him to the front door. Tony took off the cloak and gave it to her. She was suddenly looking rather sad.

  “’Bye, Tony,” she said softly, and without a backward glance she vanished into the night.

  Some Awkward Questions

  AS TONY WENT UP in the lift he tried to imagine what his parents would say. Would they be worried? Or furious? Or what? When he stepped out of the lift and saw that the door of the flat was shut, he knew he was in for it. Normally when he rang the answerphone downstairs, there was someone standing at the open doorway to welcome him.

  He pushed the doorbell and waited. He heard his mother’s footsteps approaching, and the door opened.

  “Do you know how late it is?” was her greeting.

  “Nine o’clock?” Tony hazarded hopefully.

  “It’s a quarter to ten!” said his mother angrily. “We’ve been waiting for you since eight o’clock. You’ve got some explaining to do, young man!” She marched him back to the living room, where his father was sitting on the sofa. When Tony came in, he stood up and turned off the television. Things were really looking bad!

  “Where have you been?” asked his father.

  “Me? Oh, just out for a walk.” Tony tried to sound innocent.

  “I see. For a walk. At nine thirty at night, my nine-year-old son takes it into his head to go for a walk.” He paused, then added sarcastically, “And may one inquire where His Lordship walked to?”

  “Er, oh, round and about.”

  “An illuminating piece of information!” The corners of his father’s mouth had begun to twitch, which meant that he was getting very, very angry, and trying to conceal it.

  “There’s such a funny smell,” said his mother suddenly. “Is it you, Tony?” Tony felt himself being scrutinised from head to toe, and involuntarily he too glanced down, hoping that there was no tell-tale sign of where he had been, like earth from the cemetery on his shoes. Luckily, he was in the clear.

  “Have you been burning something?” asked his mother.

  “No,” said Tony. Here comes the Inquisition, he thought to himself.

  “Perhaps somebody else made a fire, and you were ‘just looking’?”

  “No.”

  “Have you been smoking?”

  “No.”

  “Why do you smell of smoke then?”

  “Dunno. Perhaps it was Anna.”

  “Anna?” His parents’ ears pricked up. “Who is Anna?”

  “A girlfriend.”

  “A what?”

  “She’s Rudolph’s sister.”

  “Whose sister?” shouted his father. “Did you say Rudolph’s?”

  “Yes,” said Tony, who could not understand why his father was so upset.

  “Are you sure you’re telling the truth?” asked his father.

  “Yes,” protested Tony.

  “O.K. We’ll prove it.”

  “Are you going to ring up?” asked Tony’s mother. Dad nodded, and opened the telephone directory. “Ah, here we are. Appleby, Henry.”

  “Who is Henry Appleby?” asked Tony warily. His father threw him a scornful look.

  “Well, well. Imagine you not knowing who Appleby is,” he said, dialling the number. Someone at the other end of the line must have answered almost immediately, for he went on in quite a different voice: “Mr. Appleb
y? It’s Peasbody here. I’m sorry to disturb you; there’s just a little matter I’d like to clear up. My son here claims that your daughter Anna ... What? Haven’t ... ?” He paused. “I see. Thank you very much. Good night.”

  He put down the receiver and turned to Tony. “Did you know that your friend Rudolph doesn’t have a sister? He’s only got a brother, and his name is Leo.”

  “Leo?” asked Tony.

  “And as for so-called Rudolph – he’s not called Rudolph at all, or even Rudolph Nigel, but just plain simple Nigel.”

  “Nigel?” Tony was nonplussed. Then suddenly light dawned: they must be talking about the Nigel he had managed to smuggle over to tea in Rudolph’s place. A terrible thought occurred to him: after all, Nigel’s nickname was Blabber Mouth. Perhaps he had rung Tony’s parents and blown it all? He could hardly believe that Nigel would be such a traitor.

  “Well?” asked his father. “What have you got to say?”

  “I’ve always known him as Rudolph,” said Tony woodenly.

  “And his sister?”

  “She’s called Anna, like I said.”

  “Damn you, boy! Haven’t I just told you Nigel hasn’t got a sister?”

  “Rudolph has,” said Tony stubbornly.

  At this point, his mother decided to try the reasoning approach. “Tony,” she said, “you must realise that it seems very strange to us. You say you have been out for a walk with a girl who simply doesn’t exist. Can’t you tell us the truth?”

  “I don’t know what to say anymore,” sighed Tony.

  “All right then,” said his father, who was having to make a visible effort to control himself. “I recognised your so-called ‘Rudolph.’ He’s the son of a colleague of mine at work, and he’s called Nigel Appleby, not Rudolph Sackville-Bagg.”

  “Why didn’t you say earlier?” asked Tony.

  His father gasped for air. “Because I wanted to hear what you had to say about it.”

  At least Tony now knew what the position was.

  “I think that we still haven’t met the real Rudolph,” put in Tony’s mother slowly. “I believe there really is someone called Rudolph, with a sister called Anna. But why haven’t you let us meet him?”

  Tony had to smile. His mother’s cool, thoughtful approach had brought her a lot closer to the truth than all his father’s rantings and ravings.