The Noises of the Night- The Vampire Across the Hall -5

by Leann Richards

The Noises of the Night.

  The Vampire Across the Hall - 5

  By Leann Richards

  copyright 2015 Leann Richards

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  The Noises of the Night

  The Vampire Across the Hall-5

  Rain. It sounds like the tapping of high heel shoes on cobblestones. Rain, it clicks and sobs and rushes like waterfalls. Rain. It keeps me indoors when I have plans to go outside and juggle.

  It was a Friday. It had rained all night and the last vestiges of water were draining slowly onto the paved courtyard below my balcony. I knew I had to go shopping but the wet paths and prospect of more showers was dampening my enthusiasm.

  The Presidio in the rain was a dreary place. Grey and dark, even the trees seemed to mope in the dank weather. As for me, Daisi Malone, well, it was just another boring, downcast, depressing day. Yes, I was depressed, so would you be if you were me.

  I was alone. Madden, the vampire across the hall, was working every night, his girlfriend Eliza was , well who knew where Eliza was? and my neighbours, Mark and Anna .were busy exchanging faerie children. I was alone. It was boring, everything was the same, day in, day out, Glee club, jugglers, faerie children, vampires, when would something interesting happen?

  I guess I was sulking.

  But I had the right to sulk. Who else had been assaulted by exspellers, frightened by dead British backpackers, forced to juggle to stop zombies, seen faerie exchanges and been overwhelmed by supernatural activity. And let me tell you, the supernatural really wasn't as exciting as advertised. Even Madden, a vampire, was pretty boring, he had a regular job as a nurse in the local hospital. Sure it was a night job, but it was a job. Eliza was the only interesting person around, and well, she wasn't around.

  Anyway, I was in this mood and decided to go out and shop in the remnants of the rain. I hopped into the lift and the silly ghosts of the dead British backpackers snorted ' wet enough for you Daisi?"

  I grunted in response.

  'Oooooh' they hollered, ' look who got out the wrong side of the bed, this morning?'

  'Nahhhh, don't you mean afternoon?' The other one responded.

  They laughed as the lift slowly descended to the ground floor.

  As I looked outside, I sighed. There was a great big puddle of still, stagnant water, directly outside the steps. I'd have to jump it.

  I sighed again.

  I walked to the top step, took a deep breath, bent my knees, and jumped and fell....

  Right into his arms.

  and that's how I met Peter.

  ***********************************************************************

  I leapt over the steps, but miscalculated their length. It was obvious that I was going to fall head first into the puddle, but then, like a vision from the mist, there appeared a shadowy figure directly in front of me. I fell, it all happened in slow motion, I fell and hit a hard object, a body, and was suddenly embraced in a pair of arms and we were falling together, slowly, his arms wrapped around my body, we fell together.

  Right into the puddle .

  The dirty muddy water splashed into my nose and blurred my eyesight. I was lying flat on my stomach, on top of a man, my head tucked into his neck, his arms curled protectively around me It was embarrassing, I was saturated and in the arms of a complete stranger.

  I tried to wriggle free and struggle to my feet, but he wouldn't let me go.

  Suddenly, I was lifted from the ground, in those same strong arms, and gently put back onto my feet.

  'Are you OK?"

  They were the first words he said to me.

  His voice was deep and soft and warm. I shook like a dog after a bath and water dripped all over him. My hair was struggling down my back in messy strips and my clothes were stuck to my back in a sodden clump.

  All I could see through the blurry water covering my face was the outline of a tall figure. I frantically wiped my eyes, to no effect. The view was still hazy. He repeated

  ' Are you OK?'

  I shrieked. Looked into a pair of deep brown eyes, and ran away splashing through the rain.

  ******************************************************************************

  My heart was hammering wildly as I raced onto King Street. I barely noticed the men in green shirts with ' I am a Muslim ask me about Islam' printed on them. The notices for socialist meetings, continental philosophy groups, the anarchist posters protesting the government and the huge red 'Preserve Newtown' signs barely registered in my mind. I had totally forgotten why I'd left the house, my senses were full of the feel of those warm arms, the sight of those deep eyes, the sound of that rough, yet soothing voice.

  I finally slowed and noticed how wet I was. Fortunately it was Newtown and another straggly haired, sodden human being, running wildly down the street was not unusual. People just walked past, barely acknowledging my dishevelled appearance.

  I stopped and gazed into the nearest shop window. My reflection stared back, round face, blue eyes, wild brown hair flowing down my back like seaweed and clothes hugging my body like a second skin.

  What was wrong with me?

  I sighed, took a deep breath and tried to get my thoughts together. Then I remembered. Bread! I needed bread. It was a relief to find that I hadn't completely lost my mind.

  After buying the bread I casually walked home. As I reached the front , I looked carefully around, hoping or wondering if I would see him again. I shuddered in anticipation, took a deep breath and wandered into the lobby. It was disappointingly empty,

  I looked in the fire escape. It too was empty. There was nobody around. Nobody was at the back door either.

  Reluctantly I walked upstairs, listening carefully for footsteps, checking every floor for signs of life. We had to be careful at the Presidio, exspellers could be lurking anywhere, and if that man with the brown eyes happened to be around, well that was just coincidence.

  Perhaps he was a dream? I often had weird dreams.

  The rain returned and darkness fell early. Wind rattled the aluminium awnings on the balconies and it seemed like a hundred banshees had invaded the Presidio. There was howling and banging above and crashing and stumbling noises echoed through the night enveloping the apartment in percussion. Perhaps it really was a percussion band? One never really knew at the Presidio.

  The cacophony made sleep impossible. I tossed and turned and saw visions of dark skinned men with kind brown eyes in my drowsy imagination. Parts of the day returned to me in technicolour precision, particularly one part of the day. My body relived falling and being saved by the warm strong embrace of a stranger.

  Finally, the disturbances outside and inside were too much. I got up and walked into the lounge room. Voices immediately assailed me, cutting through the other sounds. Two, three, four voices, one female, I recognised them. Madden, Eliza and Aaron.

  Madden was having secret meetings in the hallway again. I was furious. After all I'd done. Juggling to save us from zombies, getting attacked for looking out for faerie folk, having Gavin Cloud and Louisa, in my home, and now, here he was, with Aaron and Eliza, having a secret meeting about who knew what? And what was that eerie sound upstairs? It sounded like somebody rattlin
g chains? Was it music?

  I ran to the door and wrenched it open. There they were, Eliza, Madden, Mark and Aaron, the chief juggler of Newtown, a faerie child psychologist and two vampires. There they were, cool as cucumbers, saying goodbye in the hallway. They jumped as one when the door opened.

  'What's going on?'

  There was along pause.

  'Going on? Love, what are you doing awake? It's 3am.' asked Mark.

  'I might ask you the same thing?'

  He shuffled nervously.

  Madden looked me up and down and I suddenly realised I was in my pyjamas.

  'Go back to sleep Daisi chain.' He whispered.

  'You go back to sleep' I snapped illogically, 'and don't call me Daisi chain.'

  Madden looked startled. ' What's wrong with you?'

  'What's wrong with you?' I retorted.

  Madden frowned ,then Eliza stepped up and spoke in her soft, faintly hissing voice.

  'This is neither the time nor place'. She stared into my eyes without blinking, and goose bumps began to crawl up my arms like a line of tiny insects lightly marching on my skin.

  'Daisi, we were merely having a conversation, a social conversation. Is it obligatory for us to inform you each time we socialise? It is 3am, we assumed you were sleeping, we did not wish to wake you. If it had been early evening, we would, of course, have invited you to participate. There is no cause for alarm or for feelings of neglect'.

  I was speechless and the prickling on my arms was creepy. No cause for alarm?

  'Ok then.' I backed away, 'as long as nothing's going on.'

  'Assuredly nothing is, as you so quaintly put it, going on.' Eliza smiled and her pointed front teeth briefly peeked out beneath her ruby red lips.

  I closed the door with a sigh. Something definitely was going on.

  **********************************************************************************

  The next morning dawned clear, the sun was shining weakly through the slits of my blinds. The lines of light decorated my ceiling in stripes of yellow and looking up, small particles of dust swam like tiny mosquitoes in the shadows.

  I needed to do some housework.

  Almost immediately, images of deep dark eyes and soft smooth skin floated to the surface of my thoughts. I closed my eyes. I could see his face.

  I leapt out of bed, looked in the mirror at pale blue eyes ,an ashen face with chipmunk cheeks, crooked teeth set into a round jaw and curly, frizzy, brown, bed head hair sticking upright on top of it all.

  Doing housework required cleaning materials and so my project for this Saturday was to buy them.

  I dressed in a day dream of brown eyes and soft voices saying ' are you ok?' . I walked out the door in a reverie filled with visions of lanky princes who caught falling ladies in distress. I imagined holding hands with a handsome man who cradled my back and helped me up from footpaths after falling.

  And so I was standing there in a daze, when the lift opened and revealed.

  A rectangular face with a slight beard, surrounded by black shoulder length hair pulled back in a pigtail. A tall young man with deep brown eyes wearing a t shirt and baggy tan jeans hanging loosely off his hips, covering skinny, but muscular, thighs He smiled as he recognised me.

  'Ahhh so we meet again.'

  'Ummm, yeah.' I stuttered.

  My feet seemed to trip me and I stumbled entering the lift, he reached out a hand and wrapped it around my forearm.

  'Careful, you'll hurt yourself.'

  'ummmm yeah.'

  My heart thudded wildly and I wondered if he could hear it.

  'My name's Peter.' He said in that mild resonant voice.

  'ummm yeah, Daisi.'

  He took my hand and briefly shook it. A spark, like a flash of electricity hit my heart and I was lost.

  'So are you OK?" he asked.

  'Ummm yeah' What was wrong with me? I could barely speak, my palms were sweaty, shaky, and my heart was going thump, thump, thump.

  'I'm new to Newtown and I don't really know anybody. I was wondering if you're not busy, perhaps' he hesitated, 'perhaps you'd like a cup of coffee?'

  'Oh, ummm yeah. Yes Please.'

  The lift opened and I stumbled again, the spark reignited as Peter grasped my hand firmly.

  'Are you sure you're OK?

  'Oh, ummm yeah.'

  As the doors closed behind us, a high pitched voice in an English accent cooed, 'ooooh he's sooo cute.'

  But Peter didn't seem to hear it.

  **********************************************************************************

  We had coffee at the cafe next door to the cinema. The waitresses hovered around Peter, hoping to catch his eye. He had a magnetism that attracted people, he wasn't perfect, but he had charisma, and the ladies at the cafe could feel it. But Peter only had eyes for me. He was attentive, talkative, friendly, polite, gentle and masculine, in a good way.

  'So Daisi, how long have you lived in the Presidio?'

  I spilt some coffee on my shirt and frantically tried to clean it,

  'ummm'

  Peter waited for my answer, then continued,

  'Is it a good place to live?'

  'Oh, umm yeah.'

  'I'm not used to the city. I come from Katoomba, you know the blue mountains, the west. My family has a property up there, near Echo Point, close to the bushland.'

  'Oh yeah.' I really had to say something.' It's really pretty up there.'

  Peter smiled. He had a row of perfect teeth, although they were a little yellow and slightly too large for his mouth. I dismissed it, we all had our small imperfections.

  'So I work with animals. I just got a job at Taronga Zoo. It's a bit far from here, and I have to work some nights, but I don't mind. Everybody says that Newtown is a great place to live.'

  He spoke a bit indistinctly. It must have been those large teeth which interfered with his voice.

  But he worked with animals. He liked animals. he was sensitive, and nice and he liked animals. He was perfect. No, not quite. I wondered if he juggled. One of the Newtown Jugglers, Miranda, had warned me, 'Only date jugglers.'

  'Do you juggle?' I blurted out.

  Peter laughed. 'You mean like this?'

  He picked up the salt, pepper and sugar containers and juggled them in a fine cascade. The waitresses applauded.

  He WAS perfect. I hadn't felt this way since Oscar, I was dizzy and excited.

  'You know we have a juggling club on Wednesday nights? Would you like to come? The jugglers are really nice people.'

  My words came out in one long slurred rush. The last sentence sounding like, 'alldejugglasarereallnispopel'

  'Oh I don't think I can on Wednesday. I'm working that night.'

  'Oh' He must have seen my disappointment. But we can go juggling tomorrow if you like.'

  'ummm yeah, thatwudbegrat' I managed

  **********************************************************************************

  It was a perfect day, a slight cool breeze nibbled at the edges of the trees whilst the sun beamed softly ,smiling in an azure sky.

  We met outside the Presidio and walked down King Street. He had five juggling balls in his bag whilst I carried my blue and white clubs.

  'Can I take those for you?' He asked.

  Our hands brushed slightly as he relieved me of the burden and that spark of electricity shot through me again.

  My head and heart were filled with him. His eyes, the way his skin glistened in the sunlight, the way his lips curled when he smiled, and the slight scent of something earthy that clung to his body.

  The people surrounding us faded into two dimensional cartoons. I barely glanced at the bright red pamphlet that was shoved into my hand.

  'Preserve Newtown'

  Peter immediately grabbed it.

  'You don't want that.' He frowned at the man who was chanting like a robot, 'Preserve Newtown.'

  Peter crumpled the paper angrily and
threw it into the gutter. He breathed heavily and glowed with anger, his features became more pronounced and a sense of power emanated from him. My knees grew weak.

  We didn't juggle much. Just enough to relax and laugh. I could finally manage a few sentences, but it didn't really matter, he did most of the talking.

  We sat underneath a copse of eucalyptus trees whose shade seemed to embrace us in a cool comforting cloak.

  Finally we lay together beneath them, as the shadows lengthened , our bodies side by side, so close but not touching.

  I could feel his presence beside me, hear his breathing, see his muscles moving to each inhalation. It was mesmerising.

  Suddenly he sat up. 'It' s getting late Daisi. Let's go.'

  'Oh, OK. ' I smiled, 'do you want to get dinner?'

  He looked confused.' ummmm ,No, I can't. I 've got plans for tonight.'

  'Oh.' I was crushed.

  Plans? What plans? Why didn't he mention plans before?

  'Plans, what plans?' I asked.

  'Oh nothing important' He held out his hand and helped me up. 'Let's go.'

  We walked down King Street in silence as the sun slowly hid behind the horizon. My eyes were fixed on the footpath. What had I done wrong? Had I been too needy? Did I laugh too much? Did I talk too much? I flattened my hair with my hand. Was it my hair? It must be my hair. My clothes? Was I too boring?

  The red ink from discarded pamphlets swam in front of me as I frantically blinked back tears. The smudged letters, 'Preserve Newtown', blurred and fizzled in the gutter.

  When we reached the Presidio, Peter reached out and shook my hand.

  'Gotta go, running late.'

  He ran through the front door, and before I could follow, it had slammed in my face. The lights from the windows above seemed to mock me and the reflection of a shadowy figure encircled the spot where I stood.

  Peter had disappeared. I opened the door, I'd been deserted.

  I trudged upstairs and ran into Madden, who was waiting in the hallway.

  'Hi Daisi, who's your new friend?'

  'None of your business.'

  I rushed inside my apartment, threw myself onto the couch and burst into tears.

  **********************************************************************************

  The next day he texted me

  'I'm sorry I couldn't have dinner . Let's meet next Sunday. Hugs.'

  He sent me hugs!

  The days dragged their feet. Every night my sleep was disturbed by wild noises overhead. Banging. scraping, sounds of falling. On Tuesday there seemed to be howling, but that could have been the wind.