A Very British Witch Boxed Set

by Isobella Crowley

  Karl nodded and folded his arms.

  This time, it was Scarlett that had a question. “So, we’re going to enter the facility using Moseley’s card, which Tim will have taken, right? So what happens when Moseley notices his card is gone?”

  “I’m going to have to exchange it with mine, then switch them back when we’re done,” Tim explained. “Their only thing that distinguishes his card from mine is the serial number, which I’m hoping he won’t notice.”

  Tarquin nodded.

  “But what then? What do we do, exactly?”

  “Good question. Tim, do you know where Ronnie is being kept?”

  “Yes. He is, or is likely to be, down in the basement lab. It’s not usually a place I’d want to go to with a lady, but on this occasion—needs must and all that.”

  “Excellent. So, Tim, if you could take Scarlett, down to the basement lab, do you think you could break him out? Do you have the means to do that?”

  “Moseley’s badge will give me the means. Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “And I assume that from the basement, you’ll be able to get him out quickly? You must know the place like the back of your hand by now.”

  Tim sighed. “Yeah, no problem. I go there every day.”

  “Well then, that’s absolutely fantastic.” Tarquin stepped back and smiled at everyone. “Ladies and gentlemen, this meeting is adjourned. Good luck to you all.”

  +++

  M40, coming into Coventry

  “Oh come on, will you. Look, he’s moving!” Cliff called out of his window to the rear of the car in front. Motorways always made him cranky. True, there were no annoying kids, old folk taking forever to cross the road or music blaring out from nearby cars at traffic lights, but at least the normal roads didn’t drive him insane with boredom.

  It was just plain sailing for miles, with absolutely nothing to do or think about and then it hits you. First the warning lights then the signs, then the cars in front start slowing down. Before you know it, the local radio is warning of delays and you’re stuck in a damn queue that goes back as far as the eye can see.

  The car in front moved about ten feet forward then came to another standstill. “Oh, I don’t believe this!”

  Through the windscreen, the sky had turned a gray-blue color. It wouldn’t be long before the blue started to fade and turn to twilight.

  In England, at certain times of the year, a sky of this color meant only one thing to a traveller—the dreaded rush hour. A time when completely sane, rational people turn into serial killers, shouting, snarling, shaking their fists and making all kinds of threats in the deadlock that stopped them getting home and making the most of their evening.

  It was the same in the mornings too. Everyone was in a foul mood because they wanted to make an early start, so they could leave early and so avoid the evening rush hour.

  Coventry was not a place he’d go to by choice. Known only for Lady Godiva, its car industry and its football team’s 1987 FA cup win over Spurs, it could hardly be described as the pulse of the country, or anything else come to think of it.

  But then did anyone actually want to go to Coventry, apart from the people that lived there? For Cliff, there was no choice. Having agreed to meet the orderly at Coventry University Hospital, he had more reason than most to be eager to get there.

  As arranged the previous day, he was on his way to acquire a much-needed supply of blood. As loathsome as the place was, it meant he wouldn’t be drinking pigs’ blood or taking tinctures, which came as a huge relief. In short, it was a price well worth paying and despite everything, he was feeling relatively happy. As happy as a vampire on the crave for blood could be, anyway.

  He glanced through the windscreen at the darkening sky. If he didn’t get there soon, if the blasted traffic didn’t start to move, he’d have to find alternative means of obtaining blood. And in a town that wasn’t exactly renowned for its wildlife, he’d have no alternative but to ambush a poor, unsuspecting person.

  He took another look at the sky and a shot of panic crossed his face.

  An engine, right at the front of the queue, fired up, rumbled, then whined as the car shot away. The car behind followed suit, as did the car behind that. A minute or so later, the car in front of Cliff departed, leaving him with a clear run at last.

  Foot pressed to the floor, the traffic signs, flyovers and turnoffs rushed towards him as the deafening wind beat against the side of his face through the tiny opening at the top of the window. The cars in front slowed and one by one, turned off the motorway. Once Cliff was finally on the regular road, he felt a momentary stream of relief before taking another glance at the sky.

  The car roared along the road, only just avoiding a head-on collision on more than one occasion. It was only once the hospital came into view that he felt able to relax and clear his head. His reflexes were never as sharp when he hadn’t been on human blood, and he should have known he had to be more careful.

  The indicator ticked and Cliff turned through the hospital gates, only to find a minibus blocking his path. Waiting patiently for it to move, he got to thinking about Ronnie. Maybe all this wouldn’t have happened if he had been there to help the other night.

  He felt determined that tonight would be a different story. He glanced at the clock on the panel above the dashboard. All being well, he should be back in Bicester by the early hours of the following morning, so, if he was lucky, he should have just enough time.

  Chapter Thirteen

  University Hospital Coventry & Warwickshire, Clifford Bridge Road, Coventry, UK

  Okay, so he’d got it a bit wrong about Coventry. He didn’t go there all that often, so the only images he had were of roads, houses, and a shopping district.

  The hospital, however, was in entirely different surroundings. True, the surrounding area was a maze of roads without a tree in sight, but as soon as Cliff turned down the road leading up to the hospital, a whole lot of green came into view in the distance. Probably man-made green, but green all the same and today it was actually pleasant.

  Typically, approaching the gates to the vast car park, he hit a queue. The twilight sky was in the process of converting to dusk and he could just about make out the outline of the moon. It was getting late and he hadn’t had a ration of blood for several hours now. It was no wonder he was feeling light-headed and irritable.

  As the car in front started to inch forwards, he imagined taking a drink of the cool blood later on and felt a tingle as he imagined a river of color gushing into him. It had been a long and frustrating few months, but hopefully, it would soon be over.

  Coventry University Hospital had a distinctive exterior. A tree-lined road from the gates bisected the car park, leading to the circular entrance to the main reception. And needless to say, it had one of those revolving doors that everyone hates, with few exceptions.

  On this occasion though, none of that seemed to matter to Cliff as he grabbed the internal mail envelope from the passenger seat, got out and banged shut his car door. Tucking the envelope under his arm he set off on the short journey along the path to the reception. He’d decided to look on the positive side, and told himself that in just a couple of hours, he’d be fully replenished. He’d have all his strength back and he’d be on the way back to Bicester to help a friend in need.

  “Good evening,” he said to an elderly lady as they passed.

  The revolving doors welcomed him in without a hitch. Taking the time to smile at the receptionist, who looked back at him with a puzzled expression, he went straight on to the cafeteria. He was half way along the corridor when he caught sight of the sky through the window. The moon was highly prominent now, the blue sky all but consumed by rays of reds and oranges. He didn’t have long.

  A porter, wheeling a bed approached. “Excuse me, sir, are you okay?”

  “What? Oh yes, I’m fine thanks.”

  “You here visiting someone?”

  “Yes. Damn traffic. Made me l
ate.”

  “Oh well not to worry. Visiting hours don’t start for another twenty minutes. Why don’t you go into the cafeteria and grab a coffee? You look like you could do with it.”

  “Oh, thank you, I will.”

  He stood with his back to the wall to let the porter pass before continuing along the corridor. He was on his way to the café to begin with and if the damned porter hadn’t stopped him to tell him to go to the cafeteria, he’d be there by now. He looked on at a group that had just joined the back of the queue. And I’d be in front of them.

  Five minutes later, he was sitting at a quiet table, sipping coffee, legs fully extended. For some reason, the place didn’t feel so hectic as it had the night before. The drive there had also been plain sailing in comparison to yesterday’s too. He had good reason to believe it was all going to pass without a hitch.

  “Evening,” the orderly said, sitting down on the chair opposite, and placing a black bag by his foot. He seemed almost like a different person than Cliff had met with yesterday. It was like he had been on previous occasions: full of life, present, aware.

  Cliff found that he was relieved that his affect on the orderly wasn’t manifesting any by-products now.

  “I have what you asked for,” the orderly told him. “Bear with me.” Just as he bent down to open the case, a teenager walked in and began blaring music from his phone.

  Boom, Boom. Bloody inconsiderate little— Boom. Boom. The music turned staccato, just a collection of words and sounds, not a melody in sight.

  The orderly looked up. “Here are you feeling okay? You don’t look well.”

  A wave of panic rushed around in his head. “Yes. I will be soon.”

  The orderly rezipped the bag and pushed it under the table with his foot. “I trust you will find this to your satisfaction.”

  Cliff felt the bag up against his foot and leg. He checked around to make sure that no one was watching, and then he pushed the envelope he’d brought in with him, in plain sight, across the table. “I’m sure I will,” he responded.

  A warm wave washed over him and everything felt okay again.

  “Thank you, sir. I trust this concludes the business at hand?”

  Cliff nodded, smiled and pushed his chair back. “It does indeed. I’ll see you in a month,” he added. Then, he picked up the bag and strode confidently towards the door.

  +++

  Cliff turned out of the hospital grounds, took a right and headed down the dual carriageway. Wanting to find somewhere more private to drink he slowed, looking for a road to turn into. He found one, and realizing it was a residential estate he looked for somewhere away from the houses to pull up.

  After driving around a few roads he found a green and a park. He pulled up alongside it and killed the headlights. Through the windscreen he saw an abandoned set of swings, a roundabout and a seesaw. Beyond them was a small stretch of grass, stretching all the way back to a row of houses that flickered in the distance.

  Confident he was in a suitably private location, he opened the cool bag and extracted a packet of blood. Holding it up to his mouth, he raised his chin and took a sip. The cool blood refreshed every single part of his body, like an ice cube on a summer’s day.

  A bolt of electricity shot through his veins. His muscles tensed, he sat up straight. He felt like he had grown ten feet tall. He was invincible. No one was going to stand in his way. And when he got back he was going to rescue Ronnie.

  He took another sip.

  Shaking his head from side to side, he stared through the window, ran his fingers down the packet. Another sip and his torso flinched, started twisting, writhing around. Eyes wide, grinning, he took another sip and another, then a long gulp.

  Only then did he remember a conversation weeks ago with Karl. Karl had told him anecdotes about some vamps having a reaction after being on a restricted diet of blood, once they started feeding normally again. He’d recommended slow reintroduction to full feeding.

  Cliff felt his palms get sweaty. His head started pulsing. A panic rose in his chest as he felt his heart-rate increase. He glanced out at the houses on the other side of the field.

  He felt primal. Animal-like. His demonic nature welled within him, urging him to cover the distance between here and the beating hearts pumping fresh blood through the bodies there in the houses.

  He exuded a low growl and licked his lips.

  +++

  White Hart Pub, Bicester, England

  Amanda slumped forward onto the table, resting her chin in her hands.

  John, the bartender smiled as he polished the glasses with a white cloth. “You okay there? Looks like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders. What’s happened to your friend tonight? She got a date or something?”

  Amanda put down her half-empty glass, observing the ring of lipstick around the top. “No, don’t know what’s happened. I’ve been stood up.”

  “How long you been waiting?”

  “Over an hour now. And your friend, Des, wasn’t making matters any easier.”

  “Sorry about that. It’s the governor’s idea. Wants a more varied clientele. Don’t think he’ll last long.”

  “Let’s hope not.”

  John pulled out a stool and sat down facing her. “It’s really quiet, isn’t it?”

  Amanda glanced around the empty pub. “Yeah, it is now.”

  “So—Amanda is it? —what’s happening with you and your friend?”

  Amanda sniggered. “What’s happening? She’s stood me up, that’s what’s happening.” she took a sip of wine. “Oh, I should have seen it coming, though, really I should’ve.”

  “Sounds like she’s been treating you unfairly.”

  “Taking advantage more like.”

  “Oh, excuse me.” John got up to continue polishing the glasses that stood on a shelf above the bar. “Sorry, the governor won’t like it if he comes in and catches me doing nothing.”

  “You weren’t doing nothing. You were talking to me!”

  John smiled and took a glass down from the shelf.

  “It was all different when we were back at uni. I suppose the world was a very different place then, though. Couldn’t get enough of me, we went everywhere together.”

  John nodded politely.

  “Things started to change when we moved in together. Suppose it was inevitable really, once we got to know each other a bit more intimately.

  “We’ve been drifting apart since then, really. And then the other day, we were in Costa and she comes right out and tells me she’s thinking of upping sticks and going traveling.”

  John shook his head. “Terrible.”

  “And not only that, she’s been keeping secrets from me, too.”

  “Some people, honestly.”

  “It hasn’t always been like that, though. No, we used to tell each other everything. Parents, families, boyfriends, everything. Down to the minutest detail.”

  “And now you don’t?”

  “She’s in and out all the time these days. Treats the flat like a hotel I tell you, a hotel! Comes swanning in all times of the day. Day and night, it’s all the same to her. Doesn’t give a damn about me, her supposed best friend.”

  “Terrible.”

  “It is, John, it is. And then there’s Ronnie.”

  “Your boyfriend? He’s been messing you around too has he? The scoundrel.”

  “No, no, nothing like that. Well, he has been stepping out of line, but I’ll tell you about that another time.”

  John grinned. “Can’t wait.”

  “No, it’s Scarlett.”

  “What’s she been doing now?”

  “Been going around accusing him, that’s what she’s been doing.”

  “What is she accusing him of?”

  “She won’t say exactly, just keeps dropping hints, implying things all the time. Well once before she actually had the nerve to accuse him of stealing her wheelbarrow! I mean get a grip, right? A wheelbarrow of all things! L
ately she was most interested in finding out about when he goes away. Jumped right on it and went to do some more snooping.”

  “Terrible.”

  “Yeah, she’s into all that. Amateur detectives, Agatha Christie, that type of thing. Takes it personally if she can’t work things out. Only sometimes she comes to the wrong conclusion, doesn’t she?”

  “That must be difficult for you.”

  “You can say that again. I think it’s down to Tim.”

  “Who’s Tim?”

  “Oh, this guy she’s seeing. Works for the military or something. Used to be Cliff she was obsessed with.”

  “Obsessed?”

  “Yeah, it was all Cliff this and Cliff that, but now he’s disappeared. Just vanished, off the radar completely. But I don’t trust any of them.”

  “Don’t blame you.”

  “No, because I can see through them all. Just like they’re some kind of—” She glanced at the table. “Empty glass.”

  John chuckled. “Well, I hope things get better for you soon, Amanda. Can I get you another drink?”

  “No, best not. I’ve had two already. That’s more than enough for me on a weekday. I have to be up early in the morning.”

  “I understand. Where do you work?”

  “Greggs.”

  “Mmm. Lovely.”

  Amanda laughed. “You wouldn’t say that if you had to work with a furnace all day.”

  “No, suppose not.”

  Amanda stood up and straightened her skirt. “Think I’ll be going, she’s obviously not going to show up. But when she comes back later, I’m having none of her excuses.”

  “Don’t blame you.”

  “No. Goodbye, John, it’s been a pleasure talking with you. Been needing to get it out for a while.”