The Little Vampire (3 page)

Tony’s father picked up the teapot, and as he poured, he winked at Mum.

Just let them laugh, thought Tony. He leaned back contentedly in his chair and thought of the coming Saturday.

The Give-away

T
HE FOLLOWING SATURDAY BEGAN
in the usual way. After breakfast, Dad went shopping. Mum had finished washing her hair, and was now busy setting up the hair-dryer. Tony was giving her a hand with it.

“Are you going to a film again tonight?” he asked, trying not to sound too interested in the answer, as he plugged in the flex behind the sofa.

“Possibly,” replied his mother. “But there’s
a chance Dad might have to go to the office instead.” She put the hood over her head. “Still, I might go to the cinema, even if he can’t come.”

“Yeah, why don’t you?” encouraged Tony. His heart had sunk at the thought that his mother might stay at home that evening, because, of course, he was expecting a visitor! Meanwhile, his mother had switched on the hair-dryer, and under cover of the noise,
Tony made his escape to his room, where he had already made preparations for his guest. Any book which might have upset the vampire had disappeared from his bookshelf, like the last two King Kong books, the one about Tarzan, and the Superman stories. In their place were two new titles: one had a black cover with a picture of a giant-sized bat on it, and in luminous red letters the words:
Twelve Chilling Vampire Tales
. The other had a purple jacket and was called
The Revenge of Dracula
. Tony had deliberately put them where the vampire could not miss them. On the cupboard hung a picture which Tony himself had painted the evening before. It was a vampire rising from its tomb. Tony was proud of the deathly pale face with black, lidless eyes and a red, gaping mouth, from which protruded teeth
as sharp as needles. His mother’s reaction on seeing the picture had been encouraging. “Ugh!” she had cried. “Do you have to paint such revolting things?”

“What do you mean, revolting?” Tony had retorted, carefully touching up the teeth with white paint, so that they seemed to gleam even more brightly.

“Just look at its face! It’d give me nightmares!”

Tony merely thought it was bound to appeal
to the vampire.

Now he studied his masterpiece with satisfaction. The hump of the graveyard in the background, with its tombstones and crosses, added the final gruesome touch. He wondered whether he should put in a couple of bats, but they were difficult to draw.

Instead, he settled himself on his bed to read. He had already started the first vampire story the day before. It was about a fancy
dress ball, at which the guests appeared in every kind of costume. One had come as a vampire. His disguise was so good that everyone had been afraid of him; and when midnight struck and everyone removed their masks, he stayed as he was ... and suddenly everyone realized that he hadn’t been wearing a mask at all!

While Tony was reading, his father came home, the telephone rang twice, the vacuum
cleaner hummed, water ran in the bathroom; but none of this disturbed him. It was not until a piercing cry of pain broke out that he looked up from his story and listened. Had it come from their flat?

“My foot!” he heard his mother sob.

“Why did you climb onto that rickety chair?” asked his father. “That’s why we have a stepladder.”

“Yes, yes,” grumbled his mother, “but it’s a bit late to think
of that.”

“Try to stand up.”

“Ow!”

“Can you turn it?”

“No!”

“What’s the matter, Mum?” called Tony.

“I’ve twisted my ankle,” replied his mother.

“Badly?” asked Tony.

“Yes. I’m going to sit with my foot up.”

Tony heard her hobble across the hall into the living room, and as he put the book back on the bookshelf, he wondered whether she would be able to go to the cinema that evening with
a sprained ankle. He thought she might, as long as it was her right foot, because she only had to press the accelerator with that foot ... However, to Tony’s dismay, it was her left foot that was resting on the stool, and she was examining it gingerly.

“What a bit of bad luck,” she was saying. “It’s going to swell up.”

“You could put a cold compress on it,” suggested Tony.

“Good idea,” said
Dad.

“Shall I quickly go to the chemist?” asked Tony.

“That would be kind of you, dear,” smiled his mother.

“Oh, it comes naturally!” said Tony cheekily.

“Oh yes?” growled his father. “I can think of times when you …”

“Oh, stop bickering, you two,” interrupted Mum, and said to Tony, “Be a dear and ask them what is the best thing for sprains.” And so it happened that Tony spent the afternoon
wrapping cold bandages soaked in vinegar round his mother’s ankle. His father had long since gone off to the office, and Tony asked for the tenth time: “There, now, doesn’t that feel better?”

“I might begin to think you wanted me out of the house this evening,” remarked his mother.

“Oh? Why?” asked Tony, trying to sound hurt.

“Well, you needn’t have to worry about Dad,” said his mother, smiling.
“He’s safely in the office. But you hadn’t counted on me having an accident and now you’re doing your best to get me up and about again.”

“Oh, Mum,” Tony said reproachfully, but he didn’t sound very convincing.

“Anyway, whatever the reason, I’ve decided to stay at home tonight,” she went on. Tony felt himself go pale. “And guess what? We’ll have a lovely evening together, just the two of us.”
Tony could not reply.

“Hey, Tony! What’s wrong?” asked his mother.

“N-nothing,” he stammered.

“We’ll make some tea and play ludo. It’ll be such fun,” Mum continued, enthusiastically. “Or we could watch television, if you’d rather. Is that why you’re looking so worried? Did you think I wouldn’t let you watch it?”

“No,” he said quietly.

“What’s up then?”

“Nothing,” he murmured, and looked
out of the window. It was already getting dark. “I think I’ll go to my room. I feel like reading.”

Now everything was ruined! If only there were some way of warning the vampire! But how could he let him know? Tony threw himself down on the bed and buried his head in the pillow. He felt lost, helpless, and bitterly disappointed. He had been looking forward to this night for a whole week! Suddenly
something knocked at the window – at first so softly that Tony thought he must have imagined it. But then it came again, and Tony sprang from his bed, ran to the window and tore the blinds aside: there on the window-sill sat the little vampire! He smiled, and signaled to Tony to let him in. A quick glance over his shoulder reassured Tony that his bedroom door was shut, and with trembling hands
and beating heart, he lifted the catch and opened the window.

“Hello,” said the vampire. “It’s good to see you.”

“Ssh!” whispered Tony. “There’s an enemy in camp.”

“Oh?” said the vampire.

“My mum,” whispered Tony. “She’s hurt her ankle.”

This did not seem to worry the vampire. On the contrary, he looked over to the door and licked his lips.

“You wouldn’t d-dare,” stuttered Tony. The suspicion
that had just entered his head was so awful that he did not dare say it out loud.

But the vampire understood very well. He looked slightly embarrassed and said, “No, no, don’t worry. In any case, I’ve just eaten.” He broke into a grating laugh, which made Tony wince. At that moment, the vampire noticed the books. “
Twelve Chilling Vampire Tales
,” he read, and sounding pleasantly surprised, he
asked, “New?”

Tony nodded. “That one too –
The Revenge of Dracula
.”

“
Revenge of Dracula
?” Almost lovingly, the vampire picked up the book. “That sounds fantastic.”

“Did you bring the other one back?”

“Ahem,” coughed the vampire, somewhat ashamed. “My little sister has it at the moment. You’ll get it back soon. She begged and begged, and I couldn’t say no.” Putting
The Revenge of Dracula
quickly
under his cloak, he said, “You’ll get both of them back next week.”

“O.K.,” said Tony. “What do you think of my poster?” He pointed proudly to the picture on the cupboard.

“You did that?” The vampire smiled wryly. “Not bad!”

“What do you think of the vampire?”

“Very good – except the mouth is a bit too red perhaps.”

“Too red? But yours is just as red!”

“Yes,” said the vampire, and gave a
little cough. “But I have just – er – eaten!”

“Oh.” Tony sounded rather put out. “I hadn’t realised that. Well, I can easily paint over it.”

Suddenly he heard the living room door open. “Mum!” he gasped. “Quick! Into the cupboard.”

“Why?” asked the vampire, making for the window. “I can go …”

“No! She’ll only stay a moment,” said Tony. There was a knock on his bedroom door.

“Tony?” called
his mother. “Shall we have tea?”

“Er – um,” said Tony, trying hard to think of some excuse. “I’m not hungry yet.” He opened the door a crack.

“What about a game of ludo then?”

“I’d rather not. My book’s got to a very exciting bit.”

“Hey, Tony!” said his mother anxiously, trying to look past him into the room. “Are you feeling O.K.? Is anything the matter?”

“No. Why?”

“There’s such an odd
smell in here. Tony, have you been playing with matches?” she asked sternly.

“Me? Certainly not.” Tony sounded hurt.

“There’s something fishy going on here,” declared his mother, and, pushing Tony aside, she marched with determination into the room. She looked around suspiciously, but could not see anything obviously wrong. Then suddenly her eye fell on the cupboard, and with a cry of “Aha!
What’s this then?” she seized a mysterious piece of black cloth, which was sticking out from under the cupboard door.

“Ow!” came a muffled squeak from the cupboard. “My cloak!”

Tony went white as a sheet. “That’s a friend of mine,” he said hurriedly, and moved protectively in front of the cupboard.

“
Why
is he in the cupboard?” asked his mother.

“Because ... he’s afraid of the light.”

“Well, well, afraid of the light,” repeated his mother, unconvinced. “I’d still like to meet him.”

“No. I’m sorry, that’s impossible.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s wearing his fancy dress outfit.”

“His fancy dress?” His mother sounded amused. “Well, never mind. That’s no reason for me not to meet him. Why don’t
you ask him to have tea with us?”

Tony shook his head. “I’m sure he won’t want to. He doesn’t like tea.”

“No? Well, what does he like?”

A soft titter was just audible from the depths of the cupboard.

“Perhaps he’d like some squash?” suggested Tony’s mother.

“Only if it’s red squash!” cackled the voice from the cupboard.

Tony’s mother was rather taken aback. “We haven’t got any red squash,”
she said. “Only soda water.”

“Poof! Yukky soda water!” spat the vampire.

“O.K. Nothing then,” retorted Tony’s mother, sounding offended. “I’ll go and make tea.” And with that she stalked out of the room. She had hardly left, before the vampire opened the cupboard door and scrambled out. He looked even paler than usual and was rather short of breath.

“What are we going to do now?” asked Tony,
pacing up and down with agitation.

“I must fly!” declared the vampire in sepulchral tones.

“You can’t just leave me in the lurch! What’ll I tell Mum when she asks where you’ve got to?”

“Oh, just say ...” began the vampire, but at that moment, they heard Mum’s approaching footsteps.

“Are you two coming?” she called.

Without further hesitation, the vampire sprang out of the window into the
night and was gone.

“Where’s your friend?” asked Tony’s mother in surprise.

“He – ahem – well, he’s gone to the fancy dress party.”

His mother looked at him doubtfully. “Funny friends you’ve got,” she said.

“What do you mean, friends?” Tony rose to the attack. “That’s only one!”

“One like that’s more than enough!” smiled his mother. “I hope I get to meet him properly next time. Anyhow, how
did he get out of the flat?”

“Oh, he was very quiet about it,” said Tony. Crumbs, he thought, now she’ll ask me how he got in without ringing the bell, and then what shall I say? But luckily the ring of the timer in the kitchen diverted his mother’s attention.

“Tea’s ready,” she said. “Are you coming?” Tony nodded. “Good. Don’t forget to close your window. Otherwise moths will get into your
room.”

“Or vampires!” added Tony, but his mother didn’t hear. Sadly Tony went over to the window. So that was Saturday over, the Saturday he’d been looking forward to so much. Oh, well, perhaps next week would go better. He shut the window and pulled down the blinds.

While they were having tea, his mother asked: “What was your friend’s fancy dress costume like exactly?”

“Well, he was dressed
as a ... um ...” Should he tell his mother? She’d never believe him. “Well, he was going as a vampire.”

“A vampire?” echoed his mother. “I wish I had seen him.”