The Little Vampire (5 page)

“Are you there?” Tony called out anxiously.

“Yes, come on,” came the answer.

Cautiously, step by step, Tony made his way downwards, and found himself in an inner chamber. It was a low-ceilinged room, which was only half-illuminated by the slender candle burning
in a niche near the entrance. Except for the coffins around the walls, it was completely empty. The little vampire was standing on the foremost coffin, a beaming smile on his face.

“Welcome to the Sackville-Bagg vault,” he cried, and then added proudly, “Well, what do you think of it?”

“I ...” began Tony, and hesitated. How could he say that he thought it was one of the nastiest places he had
ever been in, and he thought the stink might make him sick at any moment?

“Not bad, eh?” enthused Rudolph.

“Why is it called the Sackville-Bagg vault?” Tony changed the subject.

“Because it’s the last resting place of the Sackville-Bagg family, of course!” explained Rudolph.

“Is your name Sackville-Bagg too?” asked Tony.

“Yes! Rudolph Sackville-Bagg, if I may introduce myself!”

He made a
funny little bow, and Tony noticed how thin and wrinkly his neck was. “And now,” continued Rudolph, springing down from his perch, “I’ll show you around the coffins!”

He picked up the candle, took Tony by the arm and went with him right into the vault. The flickering light of the candle threw ghostly dancing shadows on the walls. Tony’s mouth grew dry with suspense.

“Here you see my dear grandmother’s
coffin,” announced Rudolph, pausing in front of a large coffin which was decorated with many woodcarvings. “Sabina the Sinister Sackville-Bagg.”

“Why was she sinister?” asked Tony.

“Well, she was just called that in the old days,” replied Rudolph. “She was the first vampire in the family, and had to make a name for herself.”

Tony looked at the coffin and shuddered. Just think what lay in it
during the daytime!

“And this one,” went on the vampire by the next one, “is William, my grandfather. Sabina of course bit him first, and so he quickly took after her and was a very enthusiastic help to her on her nightly forays. In those days, he was known as William the Wild,” he giggled, as an afterthought.

“Did he have to, er, make a name for himself too?” asked Tony.

“No, not exactly.
But he was renowned for his appetite,” answered Rudolph.

Tony felt as though a cold hand were running down his spine. “Whose is that?” he asked hurriedly, moving on to the third coffin.

“That’s my father’s,” replied Rudolph. “Frederick the Frightful Sackville-Bagg, the eldest son of Sabina and William Sackville-Bagg. Next to him is my mother, Thelma the Thirsty. My father was already a vampire
when he married her, although my mother never knew anything about it. It was only when he brought her home to the family castle that ...” He did not finish, just grinned and smacked his lips. “And that,” he continued, “is my coffin. You can get in if you like.”

“No, thanks,” murmured Tony. “I’d rather not.”

“Why not?” cried the vampire, and opened up the lid. The inside was lined with black
silk, which looked a bit worn out in places. At the head there was a small, black cushion, on which, Tony noticed, lay his two books.

“Is that all?” he asked, somewhat disappointed.

“What did you expect?” asked the vampire.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Tony. “I thought coffins were a bit more comfortable.”

“Comfortable?” The vampire sounded surprised. “What do you mean?”

Tony realized he’d said
something wrong again. “Well, a bit more roomy,” he hedged.

“Roomy?” cried Rudolph with feeling. “There’s plenty of room. There’d even be room for you in here with me.” He got in and lay down, pushing the books to one side. “See? Plenty of room for both of us.”

“Yes, I see now. But still, I don’t think ...”

“Stop thinking, then, and just get in here,” said the vampire impatiently.

“Ah – er,”
said Tony, quickly going on to the next coffin, “I’ve been longing to know who this sweet little one here belongs to.”

The vampire peered out of his coffin. “My little sister,” he said. “But come on in here.”

“And what about this one behind here?” continued Tony, ignoring him. Nothing was going to get him into a coffin at the same time as a vampire.

“That’s my brother’s, Gruesome Gregory Sackville-Bagg,”
said Rudolph, grinding his teeth.

“What’s your sister called?” asked Tony, trying hard to divert the vampire. But at that moment, he heard a soft knocking sound, that seemed to come out of one of the coffins. He stood stockstill with fright. Were they not alone in the vault after all? Had Rudolph tricked him? But the vampire looked just as surprised and horrified as he did!

“Ssh!” he whispered,
climbing nimbly out of his coffin. “That bodes not good for us. You must hide!”

“Hide?” cried Tony. “Where can I?”

The vampire pointed to the coffin, whose lid still stood open. The knocking noise came a second time, but now it was louder and stronger, and they could recognize clearly from which coffin it was coming. “Aunt Dorothy!” gulped Rudolph, sounding really frightened now. His face had
paled even more than normal, and his teeth were chattering as though he had frostbite.

“Quick, you have to get in my coffin,” he whispered. “If Aunt Dorothy finds you here, you’re for it.” Tony did not have the strength left to argue, and let himself be led to the coffin and helped in.

“And no grumbling,” warned the vampire sternly before he shut the lid. Then Tony was alone. Darkness black
as pitch enveloped him, and the smell almost made him sick. He could hear Rudolph’s voice outside in the vault: “I’m just coming, Aunt Dorothy.” A coffin lid creaked open, and then a deafening row broke loose.

“What manners!” shrieked a shrill, high voice. “Leaving me here in my coffin to starve. Another ten minutes and I’d have died of hunger!”

“But Aunt Dorothy,” said Rudolph, trying to calm
her, “why didn’t you open the lid yourself?”

“Why?” she scolded. “Because I am so weak and exhausted that I could only knock. A minute more, and I would have passed out with hunger!”

From the heavings and groanings that now followed, Tony guessed that Aunt Dorothy was getting out of her coffin. “Oh, I’m so weak and feeble,” she moaned. “If only there were something to eat!” But suddenly her
voice altered to a low hiss. “What’s this?” she cried. “I smell humans!”

Tony’s heart nearly stopped beating. What if she found him in here?

“Oh, Auntie,” reassured Rudolph. “You must be making a mistake.”

“I never make mistakes,” declared his aunt. “But I suppose it could be coming from outside.”

“Perhaps it’s a man taking his dog for a walk,” suggested the vampire helpfully. “In any case,
you should hurry up, before he gets away.”

“Yes, you’re right!” Aunt Dorothy’s blood was up! “I must be off!”

Tony heard her gallop up the steps and push the stone to one side. Then everything was quiet. He held his breath and waited. Had Rudolph gone with her?

But then he heard soft footsteps coming back down the stairs, and straight away, the coffin lid was opened.

“Hello!” said the little
vampire, grinning.

Tony lifted his head cautiously and asked: “Has she gone?”

“Yes. She’s off after that man who’s walking his dog.”

Tony sat perched on the edge of the coffin. He suddenly felt dead tired.

“Well, you don’t look very appetizing!” said the vampire cheerfully.

“I want to go home,” said Tony in a small voice.

“Home? Why, the night’s only just begun.” The vampire sounded surprised. But Tony had made up his mind.

“Oh, O.K. then,” grumbled his friend. “We’ll
fly back together. But don’t forget your books.”

Barely ten minutes later, Tony was back in his own bed. He looked across at the window, which he had taken care to shut behind him, and the night looked black and scary outside. Then he shut his eyes, and fell fast asleep.

Rude Awakening

W
HEN TONY WOKE UP
the next day, the smell of lunch was already creeping round the flat. Tony sniffed: macaroni cheese, browned and crisped in the oven. Yum!

He wondered why he had slept so long, but then remembered that it was very late when he had eventually gone to bed, and the events of the night before went spinning through his mind like a film. He wondered where the cloak
was. He was sure he’d put it with his other clothes on the chair, but it wasn’t there any more. Perhaps his parents had found it! The thought of that made Tony suddenly very wide awake. He could hear the sound of the washing machine, and his heart sank. He jumped out of bed, and ran into the kitchen, where his father was sitting at the table peeling apples.

“Morning, Tony,” he greeted him cheerfully.

“Morning,” mumbled Tony.

“Still tired?” grinned his father.

“No-o,” said Tony, and cast a sidelong glance at the washing machine. It was certainly washing
something
, but the lather made it impossible to recognize what!

“Are you looking for something?” asked his father.

“No, no,” said Tony nonchalantly. He went to the fridge and poured himself a glass of milk.

“What’s in the washing machine?”
he asked, taking a gulp of milk so that his father should not realise how concerned he was.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because ... I had some things that needed washing too,” he said with a rush. If only his father would turn off the machine for a moment, he could find out whether the cloak was inside, and if necessary, he could surreptitiously remove it.

“What needed washing exactly?” asked
his father.

“Socks,” said Tony firmly. “My white socks.”

“Well, well, your white socks,” echoed his father, and it was obvious he was laughing about something.

“Well, I’m sorry, but they couldn’t go in with that load. It’s all the dark things at the moment.”

“All the dark things?” Tony could not help sounding anxious. “Was there anything of mine in there as well?”

“Yes,” said his father unhelpfully.

“Oh.” Tony paused. “What of mine?”

“You’d better ask Mum about that.”

“Where is she?”

“In the living room. She’s doing the mendings.”

“The mending?” Tony was really worried now. A new and equally perturbing thought had just occurred to him, as he remembered how many holes there were in the cloak. “Is she mending ... socks?” he asked hopefully.

“Far from it,” smiled father. “She found an enormous
bit of black cloth, full of holes ...”

“Holes?” cried Tony. “Oh, no!” and he rushed off into the living room. He could not care less now if his father saw how worried he was.

His mother was sitting by the window, and was busy trying to pull a long thick piece of black wool through the eye of a rather narrow needle. And on her lap lay ... Rudolph’s cloak!

“Poof!” she said as Tony appeared. “This
really stinks.”

“It – it b-belongs to a friend of mine,” stuttered Tony.

“I know,” smiled his mother. “The poor boy. It’s such a tattered old thing. The holes are big enough to stick your fingers through.”

“I don’t think he wants them sewn up,” said Tony.

“Why on earth do you think that?” asked his mother.

“Well, he said so,” said Tony.

In the meantime, his mother had finished darning the
second hole, and was trying to thread the needle for the third. “I don’t believe it,” she said confidently. “No one would want to go around in anything as full of holes as this. Maybe he doesn’t have anyone to sew them up for him. No, no,” she said adamantly, “I’m quite sure he’ll be pleased to have it mended. What’s his name by the way?”

“Rudolph,” grumbled Tony. He had already reached the door.
What he really felt like doing was to howl with rage: it was all a plot, and Dad had just been acting so innocent. Well, just wait! He’d show them!

“Do you want any lunch?” called Dad from the kitchen.

“No,” said Tony.

“The macaroni cheese’ll be ready in ten minutes!”

“O.K.,” said Tony. He went back to his room and lay down on the bed. What a mean trick to have played on him, to pinch his
cloak and darn it, without even asking him first. And not only that – to have gone on darning it, even when he’d specifically asked her to stop! Tony was angry with himself too for having left it lying around, even though he knew well that his parents always looked into his room in the morning to see if he was still asleep.

But perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing that his mother was mending the
cloak. In fact, if it didn’t have so many holes, the vampire would probably be able to fly better in it. Mum was right after all, and he ought to be thankful for it!

At that moment he heard his mother coming across the hall, so he quickly stood up and began to make his bed. He was just shaking out the pillows when she knocked on his door.

“Tony?”

“Yes. You can come in.”

“Here,” said Mum. “One
cloak, good as new!”

“Thanks,” muttered Tony. He took the cloak from her and put it on a chair.

“I’d have like to have wash it,” went on his mother. “But then it wouldn’t have dried for a long time. And Rudolph wants it back soon, doesn’t he?”