Horror Holiday (10 page)

Maud blew the horn.

Penelope and Warren screamed again.

Just at that moment, Wilf burst in through the front door. “What’s going on?”

“It’s the Beast of Oddington! Run for your life!” shouted Penelope.

“Run? Never! I’ll handle this,” said Wilf, puffing his chest out. “You two hide in the cupboard.”

Penelope and Warren rushed into the cupboard, and Wilf shut the door behind them. Mrs St John handed Wilf a cushion and a mop.

“Take that!” said Wilf. He bashed the mop into the cushion with a deep thud.

Maud blew the horn again. This time she tried to make it sound like an injured scream.

“Oh, you didn’t like that did you?” asked Wilf. “Well, try this on for size.”

Wilf hit the cushion again, and Maud tooted another short howl.

“You just don’t quit, do you?” shouted Wilf. “Well, you’ve picked the wrong wolf to mess with this time!”

Wilf struck the cushion once more, and Maud let out a last, pained howl, before dashing back into the kitchen, trying as hard as she could to sound like a defeated beast fleeing into the
woods.

When the door was shut behind her, Maud quickly took off her beast costume and hid it in a corner. From the hallway, she heard Wilf opening the cupboard and saying, “It’s gone. And I
don’t think it will be back any time soon.”

Maud opened the kitchen door and headed back into the hallway. “What happened? I heard something approaching, so I hid under the table.”

“I fought the Beast of Oddington,” said Wilf.

“Wow! You’re a real hero! Thanks!” said Maud. “But what about Penelope and Warren. Didn’t they help you?”

“No,” said Wilf. “Actually, they hid in the cupboard.”

“Yeah, thanks,” muttered Penelope, looking down at the floor and shuffling awkwardly.

Mrs St John opened the front door and looked around. “You can go now. That brave young man scared the Beast off.”

Warren and Penelope stepped out, glancing nervously around.

“That was monstrous!” Wilf told Mrs St John.

“Monstrous?” asked the old lady. “Is that the word you youngsters use these days? Yes, I suppose it was pretty monstrous, wasn’t it? That girl with the purple hair got
the fright of her life, and that fellow with her was the biggest wimp I’ve ever seen.”

Maud giggled, then stopped suddenly. Hearing about Penelope getting the fright of her life reminded her she still hadn’t started her essay. She didn’t have much time left. But now
she knew exactly what she was going to write about.

W
ilf’s eyes shone. “It shot flames at me,” he said. “But I didn’t care. I just ducked to the side, leapt up and
smacked it on the nose.”

Maud and the Wild family were sitting around the spluttering campfire, listening to the story. Mr Wild was nodding as his son spoke, his eyes sparkling.

“Then it let out a scream of terror and raced off into the woods,” Wilf continued. “It won’t bother us again.”

Mr Wild stood up and clapped Wilf on the shoulder. ‘I’m proud of you, son. You did well. Unlike your weakling of a brother.”

“Sorry, Dad,” said Warren, squirming. “You didn’t see it, though. It was horrible.”

“It was pretty fearsome,” said Maud. “It’s not surprising that Warren hid in the cupboard.”

Mrs Wild shook her head and tutted. She took a packet of raw lamb chops out of her picnic bag and handed a couple to Wilf. “As a reward for being so brave, you can have your
brother’s supper, too.”

“What am I going to eat?” cried Warren.

Mrs Wild took out a packet of bone-shaped dog biscuits and tossed them to him. He whimpered with shame, but tucked into them anyway.

Maud grinned and wandered over to the car, where her dad was wrestling their muddy tent into a black bin-bag.

“Are we off home?” Maud asked.

“Afraid so,” said Mr Montague. “I don’t want to risk sliding back into the swamp if the weather turns. Between you and me, I don’t think this is very good terrain
for camping. You need firm soil for pegs. Why they promote this place as a campsite I have no idea.”

Maud was about to point out that a large ‘KEEP OUT’ sign hardly counted as encouragement, but she didn’t want to be mean.

She noticed Penelope taking down her own tent, and headed over.

“I think this belongs to you?” she said, handing over Penelope’s copy of
Weather Spells for Beginners
. “If only you hadn’t dropped it. You might have been
able to cast a spell at the Beast rather than running for the safety of the cupboard.”

“It’s not funny,” said Penelope. She opened the book and pointed to a lightning-bolt spell. “And if you ever tell anyone about it, this is what you’ll
get.”

“I promise I won’t breathe a word,” said Maud.

Penelope tramped back to the truck, where Mrs Wild was loading the canvas stools into the boot.

Warren was waiting by the front door on the passenger side.

“Oh no, you don’t,” said Mr Wild. “Wilf gets the front seat today.”

Warren opened the back door and skulked in.

Mr Wild started up the engine, and the truck rolled across the clearing on its huge wheels.

He passed Mr Montague, who was attaching the caravan to the back of the car, and honked his horn.

“Thanks for coming,” he said. “Shame about the weather.”

“That’s summer for you,” said Mr Montague, snorting out a laugh. “But thanks for inviting us all the same. Stay cool, dudes!”

Mr Wild forced a smile and sped away down the track. As they went, Warren stuck his head out of the back window and yapped mournfully.

Maud got in the back of their car. Milly was sitting there with her flower-pressing book on her lap and her seatbelt on.

“So that’s settled,” Mrs Montague was saying. “We’ll listen to our
Ultimate Driving Hits
collection until junction nine, and then we’ll swap to your
Pink Pony Princess Party
CD.’

“Fine,” said Milly. “As long as we get out of this place.”

Maud didn’t know which half of the journey she was looking forward to least, but she didn’t really care. She had her exercise book, her pen and a very important essay to write.

As the car juddered away, with ‘Born to be Wild’ blaring out yet again, she opened her book and began again:

P
aprika was reaching the terrifying end of his story. “… And then they took it away and brought a salad instead,” he read. He
looked up from his exercise book and smiled at the class.

Maud was sitting at her desk in Mr Von Bat’s class. Everyone else had read their Fright essays. Oscar had written about the time he accidentally dropped his head out of the car window and
had to ask his dad to reverse and pick it up. Zombie Zak had told them about the time his jaw rotted off and he had to sew it back on. Finally, Paprika had described the time he’d been given
garlic bread by mistake in a pizza restaurant.

“I remember it well,” said Mr Von Bat. “It gave your mother a terrible headache, and I got yelled at all night. Seven out of ten.”

Mr Von Bat turned to Maud. “Ah, Miss Montague, it looks as if we’re left with you. Let’s see how you got on. No pressure.”

Maud stepped out to the front. She opened her exercise book and took a deep breath.

“The Fright of My Life. By Maud Montague.” She cleared her throat. “My biggest ever fright was the time I saw the legendary Beast of Oddington.”

There were gasps around the classroom. Billy Bones had been dragging his ruler up and down his ribs, but he put it down to listen. Oscar’s head had been looking out of the
window, but he grabbed it off the sill and turned it round to face Maud.

“It happened just a few days ago when I was on a camping trip with my friend Wilf Wild.”

Wilf turned and waved at the class.

“We went out to Oddington Marshes, even though another good friend had warned me that a hideous creature haunts that lonely and desolate place.”

Maud smiled at Paprika, who was looking terrified.

“One morning, we saw some giant clawprints leading away from our campsite. Wilf said we should follow them and find the monster. I was very scared, but Wilf was determined, so I gave in.
We followed the clawprints through a foggy swamp and a dark forest until we came to a little white cottage. We knocked on the door, and an old lady called Mrs St John invited us inside. She had a
roaring fire, a cosy kitchen, and a big cupboard at the end of the hallway.”