Read The Little Vampire Online

Authors: Angela Sommer-Bodenburg

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Monsters, #General

The Little Vampire (8 page)

BOOK: The Little Vampire
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“I could have told you that,” said Tony.

“Did you know they don’t have a phone?” asked his mother.

“Well, I didn’t know, but I guessed they might not,” said Tony evasively.

“Why?” His mother was
all ears now. But at that very moment the doorbell rang.

Tony leapt up in relief. “That must be him!” he said, and ran to the door. I hope it really is Nigel, he thought. What on earth am I going to say to Mum and Dad if he’s left me in the lurch?

But it was Nigel. At first, Tony could hardly recognise him in his dark trousers, black shirt, and swathed, according to instructions, in the famous
cloak.

“Hello!” He grinned. “How do I look?”

Tony looked quickly over his shoulder. “Ssh!” he whispered. “We mustn’t give the game away.” Out loud, he said, “Hi, Rudolph! Come on in.”

Mum appeared in the hall. “How nice,” she cooed. “Hello, Rudolph. I’m very pleased to meet you.”

“Good afternoon,” said Nigel, making a low bow.

“You know your way around the flat already,” said Tony’s mother,
watching Nigel closely, “but we’ve never met. Once you hid in the cupboard, and then when tea was ready, you’d disappeared.”

Nigel just stood and grinned. “Anyway,” went on Tony’s mother, “what do you think of your cloak?”

“The cloak?” repeated Nigel. “It’s great.”

“Haven’t you noticed anything different about it?”

Nigel looked puzzled. “What sort of thing?”

“The holes, of course,” laughed
Tony’s mother. “I’ve darned them.”

“Oh, er, yes – thank you very much,” murmured Nigel.

“Tony said you didn’t want them mended.”

“Really? Why?”

Tony came to the rescue. “Because then it wouldn’t look like a real vampire-costume,” he chipped in.

“Oh, yes.” Nigel looked as if the penny had just dropped. “My vampire-costume. Well, Mrs. Peasbody, it’s just that it looks more spooky with holes
in it.”

Tony’s mother smiled. “Come along in,” she said. They were over the first hurdle, thought Tony. Nigel wasn’t bad, he’d give him that. In fact, for the fifty pence it was going to cost him, the performance was cheap at the price!

“I hope you’re enjoying your tea,” said Tony’s mother when they were all sitting round the table.

“Mmm, thank you,” mumbled Nigel, who had already devoured
a quarter of the cake and was now cramming a cream bun in his mouth.

“I really didn’t know what to make for you,” smiled Tony’s mother. “Tony had told me such extraordinary stories about what you liked to eat.” She poured herself a cup of tea. “He said you only ate or drank one thing, and that we didn’t have any of it in the house.”

“How strange,” said Nigel.

“But I can see now that you’ve
got a very good appetite,” said Tony’s mother, looking pleased.

Nigel nodded and took another cream bun. “I’ve always liked eating,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs. “My mum always says: ‘Nigel, you’ll eat us out of house and home!’”

“What does she call you?” asked Tony’s mother in astonishment. “Nigel?”

“Er, yes, that’s my second name,” said Nigel quickly. “Rudolph Nigel Sackville –”
He hesitated, and looked desperately at Tony.

Sackville-Bagg. Tony’s lips silently mouthed the name.

“Sackville-Wagg!” said Nigel firmly, misunderstanding Tony’s prompting.

Tony’s mother was even more confused. “What?” she said.

“I mean Sackville-Bang,” Nigel tried again.

“Oh, you’re just trying to make a fool of me.”

“No, no, Mrs. Peasbody, of course not,” Nigel assured her, reaching for
another cream bun.

“Hey!” protested Tony. “Leave some for other people!”

“Tony,” rebuked his mother. “You shouldn’t speak to your guest like that!”

“I don’t know who’s behaving like a guest round here,” stormed Tony. “Guests don’t guzzle their way straight through three cream buns!”

“’Course they don’t,” agreed Nigel peaceably, taking the last one. “They eat four!”

Tony was speechless. He’d invited Nigel over
and now the pig was devouring the cakes as if he hadn’t eaten for a week. What on earth was his mum going to think? “Rudolph, I think it’s time you were going,” he said in a strangled voice.

Nigel did not agree. He grinned unashamedly, and proceeded to pile his plate with chocolate biscuits. “Why should I?”

“Because ...” began Tony, but he was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.

“That’ll
be Dad,” said Tony’s mother, getting up.

“Dad?” asked Tony, sounding surprised

“He arranged to come home early,” explained his mother.

Once she had left the room, Tony rounded on Nigel. “If you think you can come here and do just what you like ...” he hissed, but Nigel interrupted.

“Hey, steady on,” he said with mock concern.

“I’ll ... I’ll ...” But before he could find the appropriate threat,
his father came into the room.

“Hello, Rudolph,” he said.

Nigel half rose from his chair. “Afternoon.”

“So, at last we’ve got the chance to get to know you,” said Tony’s father, sitting down. He doesn’t even notice me, thought Tony grumpily. But then, I’m not a guest!

“You’re the one who thinks it’s always Halloween,” said Tony’s father conversationally.

“I-I do?” asked Nigel.

“Tony’s told
us that you’re always dressed for a Halloween party.”

“Ow!” cried Nigel as Tony landed a sharp kick on his shin from under the table. “Er, yes, I suppose I am.”

“How do you work it in the summer?” pursued Tony’s father.

Nigel was at a loss at this, so he said nothing and took another biscuit instead.

“You must have a special party?” smiled Tony’s father.

“Perhaps he doesn’t want to talk about
it,” suggested Tony quickly.

“Quite.” Nigel nodded.

Tony’s father pointed to the cloak and remarked, “You’ve even got your costume on today. Are you going to pretend it’s Halloween tonight?”

“Not tonight,” said Nigel hurriedly. “Tomorrow, probably. Now, I really must be going.”

“So soon?” asked Tony’s mother, appearing from the kitchen with a fresh pot of tea.

“I’m afraid so,” said Nigel.
“I’ve got to get some things ready.”

“What sort of things?” asked Tony’s father. “Do you have to polish your vampire teeth? Or have you got a set of those rubber fangs?”

“Rubber fangs?” Nigel was completely lost.

“Yes. All the best vampire costumes have rubber fangs to go with them. If you don’t have two pointed teeth, you’re not a proper vampire!”

Nigel had gone pale. He even seemed to have
lost his appetite, for he stood up, murmuring, “I must be off.”

“Goodbye,” called Tony’s astonished parents.

“’Bye,” said Nigel.

Tony went with him to the door. When they were out of earshot, he asked, “Why did you get up so suddenly?”

“Why?” sneered Nigel. “Because I don’t like being squeezed like a lemon, that’s why. Apart from that, I suddenly realised that I’d met your father.”

“No!”
gasped Tony. “Where?”

“My dad sits in the same office at work.”

“Did he recognise you?” asked Tony.

“I hope not,” said Nigel. “Look what I look like.” He grinned. “’Bye then, Tony.”

“Wait!” cried Tony. “The cloak!”

“Oh, yeah, this old rag,” said Nigel, pulling it off. “Here you are; I’m not wearing that again!”

Tony quickly rolled it up and stuck it under his pullover. “’Bye, Rudolph!” he
said loudly enough for his parents to hear, and shut the door. Thank goodness that was over. Now all he had to do was hide the cloak. He tiptoed across the hall. The door of the living room was open, and he could hear his parents talking quietly. No doubt they were still at the table discussing Rudolph!

“Tony!” called his mother. “Is that you?”

“Just coming,” he answered, and slipped into his
room.

“What’s the matter?” asked his mother.

“Nothing,” replied Tony, stuffing the cloak under his bed. “Here I am.”

As he had guessed, his parents were sitting at the table with rather puzzled expressions on their faces. “Well?” asked Tony bluntly. “What did you think of him?”

“He wasn’t very talkative,” said his mother.

“He never is,” said Tony.

“And I’ve met better behaved boys,” she
went on.

“So’ve I,” agreed Tony, thinking wistfully of the cream buns.

“In fact, I can’t think why he is such a good pal of yours,” announced his mother.

Nor me, thought Tony to himself. Out loud he asked, “What about you, Dad. What did you think?”

“Well, I didn’t see much of him. But I got the feeling I’d seen him somewhere before.”

“Mmm.” Tony couldn’t resist a smile. “I wonder.”

“Do you
think I have?” asked his father.

“Of course not.” Tony had never looked so innocent. He felt quite elated. Everything had gone according to plan. And it was highly unlikely that his father would ever remember where he had met Nigel – at least, he hoped not!

At Dusk

“W
OULD YOU MIND IF
I went to my room?” asked Tony politely.

“Of course not,” said his mother. “But why?”

“I’ve got something to do for school,” said Tony. This was not exactly true, but it was always a good excuse, and one to which his parents never raised any objection. Once in his room, Tony threw himself down on his bed. Nigel didn’t half fancy himself, he thought. He was, of course,
very grateful that Nigel had played the game at all, and what’s more, he’d done it very well – his parents hadn’t suspected a thing! But the play-acting during tea! Still, at least now his parents knew who Rudolph was, and wouldn’t go on at him anymore about meeting his friend – after all, they’d had an eyeful of him that afternoon!

Tony must have fallen asleep, for when he opened his eyes, it
was already getting dark. All was quiet in the flat. Perhaps his parents had gone out? Tony went to the door and listened carefully. There was not a sound to be heard. If his parents were at home, the television was bound to be on, or at least the radio, and sometimes they even talked to each other! Tony decided they must have gone out for a walk.

He was thirsty, and suddenly remembered the chocolate
milkshake his mother had made for Nigel. Perhaps there was some left. An exploration of the fridge revealed a piece of the cake, but no milkshake, only orange juice. Tony had to be content with that, and taking the cake with him, he went back to his room. As he crossed the hall, he noticed a strange, rather mouldy smell, which had not been there before. It was not the cloak; that just smelled
of old clothes. And it could not be Rudolph, because he always smelled rather singed. Was it one of the other vampires? After all, he had left his window open ...

He opened his bedroom door cautiously and asked: “Is anyone there?” A low chuckle was the only answer.

“Rudolph?” he called into the gloom.

“No!” came the reply, followed by a high-pitched girlish giggle.

“Anna!” guessed Tony.

“Right!” The lamp by Tony’s bed was switched on, and its light revealed Anna sitting on the bed, looking pleased with herself. She looked different: her hair, which on Sunday had hung in wild tangles down to her shoulders, had been brushed till it gleamed. Her eyes shone, and excitement had brought colour to her deathly-pale cheeks. What on earth was she doing here, wondered Tony. He hoped she was
not on the prowl. Anna must have guessed his thoughts, because she began to laugh. “Have you forgotten I’m called Anna the Toothless?” she asked.

Tony felt foolish. Unable to think of anything else to say, he held out the glass and asked: “Do you like orange juice?”

She shook her head. “No. But I’d love some milk.”

“Wait a second,” said Tony, and a moment later he returned with a glass of milk.

“Thanks,” she smiled, and drank it with little sips, watching him over the rim of her glass in a way that made him feel very uncomfortable.

“Er,” he coughed. “Would you like to borrow another book?”

“No, thanks,” she said.

“Oh. Er, well, then why did you come?”

“I just wanted to see you,” she said with a beaming smile. “Do you mind?”

“N-no,” he stammered.

“How do I look today?” she asked.

“V-very nice.” This was becoming ridiculous!

“Do you really think so?” she said happily, smoothing down her hair. “It was really very difficult. I hadn’t combed my hair for seventy-five years!” Her expression changed as she plucked at her cloak. “I hate this old thing,” she grumbled. “Do you know, I never minded before what I looked like. But now I think you’d like me better in pretty clothes,
wouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” said Tony. “You couldn’t fly without your cloak.”

“It’s so unfair,” she sighed. “Normal girls can wear what they like, it’s only vampire-girls who have to dress in crummy old things like this!” She bit her lip, and seemed to be thinking. “May I ask you something?” she said finally.

“Of course,” said Tony rather surprised.

“What do you think of vampires?”

Tony
wasn’t prepared for this. “Oh, er, they’re great!” he answered.

“And ... vampire-girls?”

“Vampire-girls?” he hedged. “I only know one!”

BOOK: The Little Vampire
11.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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