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Monstrous Maud: Freaky Sleepover

Page 4

by A. B. Saddlewick


  “The hamster you’re calling ‘Cuddles’ is actually a vampster, which is a cross between a normal hamster and a vampire. She was the one who caused all this damage, not us. We’ve just trapped her in the garage and we’re trying to work out what to do. Paprika’s a vampire, and Penelope’s a witch.”

  “And I’m invisible,” said Isabel.

  “Whatever, Maud,” said Milly. “You’ll need to come up with a better story than that before Mum and Dad get home.”

  “I’m not lying,” said Maud. “There’s a monster behind that garage door, and you need to stop making silly friendship bracelets and help us!”

  “There’s only one monster behind that door,” said Milly, “and that’s your nasty pet rat.”

  “Quentin?” asked Maud. “I thought he was on my bed.”

  “No,” said Milly. “He was grossing Suzie out with his horrible straggly fur, so she put him back in the garage where he belongs.”

  “Why did you let her do that?” asked Maud. “Now Violet’s going to get him!”

  Milly patted Maud on the head as if she was a dog. “Of course she is,” she said. “I’m going back upstairs now. If you weirdos must play your silly monster game, keep the noise down.”

  Milly barged out of the kitchen and slammed the door.

  “She was helpful,” said Penelope. “Would you like me to cast a spell on her?”

  “Maybe later,” said Maud. “It’s Violet we need to worry about now. Quentin’s in danger!”

  She grabbed a can of tuna and whirred it around her mum’s automatic can-opener.

  “Okay,” she said, clutching the handle of the door. “Here goes …”

  Maud threw the door wide open, holding the can of tuna in front of her like a weapon.

  In the pale moonlight cast by the high windows, she saw that the tools had been ripped down from the wall, leaving nothing but rusty pegs and painted outlines. All the nails and screws had been tipped out of her dad’s toolbox into a chaotic pile on the floor. Poor Dad – he’d prided himself on how well ordered they were.

  Maud tiptoed into the garage, followed by Penelope and Paprika, looking for signs of movement behind the scattered hammers and wrenches. She lifted up the living-room curtain, which had been dumped near the window on the other side of the garage, but Violet wasn’t under it.

  Maud scanned the room. “Where’s Quentin’s cage?”

  “Uh-oh,” said Paprika, pointing up. Maud saw that one of the windows was wide open. There were scratches around the frame. “This isn’t good,” he said. “This isn’t good at all.”

  “Poor Quentin,” said Maud. “Violet must have taken him!”

  “Maybe she wants him to be her boyfriend,” said Paprika. “She did seem pretty fond of him when they were in the wedding car. Though I don’t think he felt the same.”

  “We’ve got to save him!” cried Maud.

  “Have you seen this?” asked Isabel.

  A flyer for the Dracula production floated up off the floor. It showed the Count with his fangs bared, about to sink them into the neck of a young woman in a nightie. It was covered in scratch marks, just like the ones on the window frame.

  “Do you think vampsters can read?” Isabel asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Paprika. “They are supposed to be very clever …”

  “Imagine all the havoc Violet could wreak if she went to the theatre,” said Penelope, grinning again.

  “This is serious,” said Paprika. “We need to stop her.”

  “But I promised Mum that I wouldn’t leave the house under any circumstances,” said Maud.

  “I’m sure she’ll make an exception for this,” said Paprika. “If Violet attacks the audience of your mum’s play, imagine how bad the reviews will be!”

  “You’re right,” said Maud. “Mum had no way of knowing there would be a supernatural pet on the loose when she made that rule. Let’s go.”

  Maud frowned, thinking hard.

  “The theatre’s a couple of miles away,” she said. “We can make it in half an hour if we run.”

  “That will be too late,” said Penelope. “Violet’s flying there right now. You won’t catch up on foot.”

  “I can fly,” said Paprika. “I could get there in no time.”

  “I’ve stashed my broomstick in the front garden,” said Penelope. “So it won’t be a problem for me either.”

  “Well, that settles it,” said Maud. “I’ll get a lift with you.”

  “No, you won’t,” said Penelope. “I’m not making that mistake again. Last time, you made me crash.”

  “You should have been looking where you were going,” said Maud.

  “Don’t forget I need a lift, too,” said Isabel. “I can’t fly either, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “Well, you can perch on my broom,” said Penelope. “Maud, you’ll just have to work it out for yourself.”

  “But I need to rescue Quentin,” said Maud. “You can’t leave me behind!”

  “Fine,” said Penelope. She snatched a mop from the corner of the garage and placed it on the floor. Then she held her hands over it and muttered under her breath.

  The mop sprang up into the air and gave a clunk.

  “Ouch,” said Isabel. “That was my elbow.”

  Maud reached out and grabbed the levitating mop. It hummed gently beneath her fingers.

  “This is safe, isn’t it?” she asked. “It had better not run out of magic as soon as I’m up in the air.”

  “I might not like you,” said Penelope, “but even I don’t want you to end up splatted.”

  “Alright, then,” said Maud. She opened the front door of the garage, guided the mop outside, then climbed on.

  “How do I get it started?” she asked, gripping on to the front tightly.

  Penelope sighed. “Point it up at the sky. Obviously.”

  Next to her, Paprika had closed his eyes and was clenching his fists tightly. He opened one eye. “Turn around. I can’t do it when you’re all watching.”

  Maud looked away, heard a puff, and turned back to see a cloud of smoke where Paprika had been standing. As it cleared, she saw a black bat hovering in the air.

  Maud lifted up the front of her mop, but nothing seemed to be happening. “I don’t think it’s work—”

  The mop shot up into the night sky, and Maud felt cold wind blasting against her skin. She wanted to close her eyes, but that would be far too dangerous. She needed to learn how to control it.

  Maud steered right to avoid hitting an oak tree, only to find herself on course to crunch into a telegraph pole. She swung the front of the mop left so sharply that she span around in a circle.

  “We don’t have time for showing off,” shouted Penelope.

  Maud pushed the end of her mop down so it was pointing straight ahead. She leaned closer to it and sped smoothly forward until she was level with Penelope.

  Maud could see rows of shining streetlights below, spreading out like cobwebs around the bright office blocks of the town centre. In the distance, she saw a small shape flit past one of the streetlights. As she peered at it, she could just about make out the outline of a metal cage and a flapping pair of wings above it.

  “There they are!” shouted Maud.

  The shape turned to look at them, and Maud caught a flash of the vampster’s bright purple eyes.

  Penelope leaned forward on her broomstick and shot off in pursuit. Maud followed. They gained on Violet and drew up on either side of her. From inside the cage, Maud could hear Quentin squeaking with terror.

  “Cast your spell!” Maud called across to Penelope. “Quick!”

  Penelope drew back her hands and recited the spell under her breath. She threw her arms forward, but at the last minute, Violet plunged rapidly down.

  “Missed!” shouted Penelope.

  “Drat!” said Maud.

  Violet plummeted like a diving seabird, and Maud tipped the mop into a steep descent. She hurtled to the ground, terri
fied that she would crash but determined to catch the vampster. She waited until she was down below the streetlights and then tugged the end of the mop up with all her strength. She hurtled along the pavement, as close to the ground as if she was riding a bike. Takeaways and minimarkets swooshed past on either side, as she sped down the road to the town centre.

  Violet dropped so low that Quentin’s cage scraped along the pavement. Maud followed, shooting through the sparks.

  The vampster glanced back for a second and then swung out into the road. Maud followed, swerving around a car to keep up. As she passed, she glimpsed a young girl pointing at them from the back window.

  Violet took a sharp left over a row of narrow gardens. Maud sped after her as she dipped under washing lines and over fences. In one of the gardens, a little dog jumped up and snapped at Quentin’s cage, missing it by inches.

  “Don’t worry, Quentin,” shouted Maud. “We’re coming!”

  When she got to the last garden in the row, Violet veered right into an alleyway with brick walls on each side. The wind whistled past Maud’s ears as she swerved around dustbins and over an abandoned shopping trolley.

  At the end of the alley, Violet swooped over a tree. As she shot past the branches, one caught on Quentin’s cage and whipped open the hatch.

  In the orange glow of a streetlight, Maud saw Quentin slip through the hanging cage door. Maud’s scream caught in her throat, as Quentin dangled from the cage mesh by his claws. Then he was falling through the air, his legs flailing.

  Maud steered firmly towards him and lifted her arms up, catching him just as he was about to crash into a postbox. She clasped him tightly to her chest, but as she let go of the mop, it swung round and round in the air. Maud reached out to grab the handle again, as the streetlights swam around her.

  “Watch out!” shouted Penelope.

  But Maud’s spinning mop smashed into the witch’s broom, and they both fell down to the pavement below. Maud landed in a pile of bin-bags outside a Chinese restaurant. She flicked a prawn cracker off her sleeve, and Quentin leapt into the front pocket of her cardigan and burrowed as deep as he could.

  “You’re safe now,” said Maud.

  Penelope was pulling a stale noodle out of her hair.

  “Where’s Isabel?” Maud asked. “Is she alright?”

  “I’m fine,” said a voice behind her. Maud looked around and saw a girl-shaped dent in one of the rubbish bags.

  “We lost Violet,” said Penelope.

  A dark shape fluttered towards them and burst into a puff of smoke. Paprika fell on to the pavement face-first, then rolled on to his back.

  “This is Wing’s Chinese,” said Isabel. “It’s only a couple of streets away from the theatre. We can catch her if we run.”

  Maud helped Paprika to his feet, and together they all raced along the pavement, passing newsagents and kebab shops until they reached a square surrounded by restaurants and bars. They dashed through the middle, dodging around a hotdog van that was just opening up for the night.

  On the far side of the square stood the theatre, with two huge posters of Count Dracula draped across the front. A flight of wide steps led up to the entrance doors. As Maud got closer, she could see a small white shape hopping up them.

  “Violet!” said Maud. “We’re just in time.”

  “Sorry. No late admissions,” said the usher, stepping out to block their path.

  “We really need to get in,” said Maud. She peered around the usher to glance at the theatre foyer. Violet should have been easy to spot against the plush red carpet under the bright light of the chandeliers, but Maud couldn’t see her. She must have got in without the usher noticing.

  “I’m sure you can wait until the interval,” said the usher. “It’s only ten minutes away.”

  “But we need to go in now,” said Isabel.

  “Who said that?” asked the usher. He took a pair of glasses out of his pocket and put them on. “Where are your tickets, anyway?”

  “We don’t have any,” said Maud. “But you’ll have to take our word for it. If you don’t let us in, you could be dealing with the biggest disaster ever seen in regional theatre.”

  The usher chuckled. “Be on your way, kiddies.”

  They trudged back down the steps.

  “What an annoying man,” said Penelope. “Would you like me to cast a fear spell on him? He’ll be too busy screaming to notice us slip in.”

  “That sounds a bit horrible,” said Maud. “Let’s look for another way in.”

  “At least Isabel will have sneaked past,” said Paprika. “That’s something.”

  “Er … actually I didn’t think of that,” said Isabel’s voice beside him. “Sorry.”

  “Great,” said Penelope. “What’s the point of being invisible if you don’t use it when we really need it?”

  “I didn’t ask to be invisible,” said Isabel, crossly. “Sometimes I wish my mum had married a human. Then at least I’d be visible from the waist up like my cousin Clarabel.”

  “I can see a stage door round the side,” said Maud. “Let’s try that.”

  They crept around the edge of the building. The usher standing in front of this one was a skinny teenager with floppy brown hair and a waistcoat that was far too big for him.

  He held his hand out to stop them. “If you’re after autographs, you’ll have to wait. They haven’t even got to the interval yet.”

  “We don’t want autographs,” said Penelope. “We need to come inside. You see, there’s this creature that’s a cross between a hamster and a …”

  “What she means to say,” said Paprika, “is that I’m the understudy for Dracula in tonight’s performance, and I’m needed backstage.”

  Paprika held out his cape and pointed at his fangs.

  “Aren’t you a little short to be an understudy?” asked the usher.

  “All actors are shorter in real life,” said Paprika.

  The usher narrowed his eyes. “And who are the others?”

  “I’m his agent,” said Maud.

  “And I’m make-up,” said Penelope.

  “And I’m …” began Isabel, but Maud quickly coughed to drown out her voice.

  The usher paused a few seconds, then moved out of the way. “In you go, then.”

  Maud followed Paprika and Penelope into the corridor. Unlike the foyer with its bright lights and deep red carpets, this side of the theatre was cramped and dim, with bare brick walls and a dusty floor.

  The end of the corridor led straight to the side of the stage, where spooky piano music was playing, faster and faster. Maud stepped carefully over the cables on the floor and glanced out across the stage.

  A dry-ice machine was pumping thick smoke across a graveyard set, as Miss Bloom tiptoed across the stage, looking scared. A shadow rose from the rolling mist – a man wearing a black cape. He crept up behind Miss Bloom, reaching out with long fingers.

  “That’s your dad!” hissed Maud, gripping Paprika’s arm.

  At the last moment, Mr Von Bat backed away from Miss Bloom. She ran off stage.

  Penelope turned to Paprika and whispered, “Did you know your dad was in this play?”

  “No,” said Paprika. “I thought my parents were at the Archduke of Prussia’s ball tonight.”

  Quentin poked his head out of Maud’s pocket and peeked at the scene.

  Then he squeaked with fear and ducked down again.

  “It’s alright,” whispered Maud. “It’s just a play, and he’s not a real vampire, anyway.”

  In fact, she was telling Quentin the truth. Everyone at Rotwood School thought that Paprika’s dad was a real vampire. But Maud knew that he was really just a human pretending to be a vampire.

  As the first half of the play built to its climax, Mr Von Bat lay down in a coffin that appeared on the stage. Another blast of smoke swept across the graveyard set, and the heavy red curtain was lowered to the sound of loud applause.

  Maud glanced over her shoulde
r and saw her mum was coming down the corridor. Thankfully, she hadn’t spotted them yet.

  “Quick,” Maud said. “We need to hide somewhere!”

  “Down here,” said Paprika. He led Maud, Isabel and Penelope down a flight of steps to a cramped space under the stage.

  At the end of the room, ropes creaked around metal pulleys, and the coffin sank down from the stage. There was nowhere to run. Ahead of them was the coffin with Mr Von Bat, and behind them, Mrs Montague. As stray swirls of dry ice swept across the coffin, the lid creaked open. Mr Von Bat sprang up, his pale face emerging from the shadows.

  “Dear, oh dear,” he muttered, rubbing his back. “I’m too old for this!”

  He looked up and saw Maud, Penelope and Paprika. His eyes narrowed. “Either I’m going mad,” he said, “or someone needs to explain what is going on. Right now.”

  Maud stood in Mr Von Bat’s small dressing room.

  “So you see, we need to find Mr Quasimodo’s hamster,” she said. “Except that she’s not a hamster at all. She’s a vampster. And she’s loose in the theatre.”

  Maud leaned against the wardrobe, while Mr Von Bat fixed his make-up in the mirror. Penelope and Paprika were sitting on a costume chest.

  “I had my suspicions about that creature,” said Mr Von Bat. “Mr Quasimodo likes to keep some very strange pets. He had a baby dragon once, but the Head made him get rid of it when it burned down the broom shed. Why did you bring such a dangerous creature here?”

  “We didn’t bring her!” said Maud. “She read a leaflet about it and flew here.”

  “Only after Maud left her on her own in the garage,” said Penelope.

  “Penelope knew about Violet all along,” said Maud.

  “I’m not interested in whose fault it was,” said Mr Von Bat. “The fact is we’ve got a serious problem. You know how hard the Head works to keep Rotwood a secret from all the humans in this town? All that could be undone in seconds if the audience sees you all chasing around after a flying fanged hamster.”

 

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