The boot of the car slammed shut and Richard slid into the driver’s seat. He was different, Ferrers knew it. Richard reminded him of himself. He had a degree of self-control which was remarkable for a vampire so young. He had only seen it once before, in Kasper, his protégé, his paramour. Of course, with Kasper it was out of repulsion, rather than the carefully executed precision of Richard's ambivalence to life. Richard was a pretty boy with edge.
"We ready to go?" Richard asked.
"Ready as I'll ever be," said Rachel sarcastically.
"Charles?"
Ferrers liked it when Richard called him by his first name. "Yes, dear boy," he replied, "drive on."
The pristine black saloon manoeuvred the gravel turning circle and made its way down the driveway. Mrs Craig watched through the window off the gate house, the radio broadcasting the Sunday service in the background. She didn't wave them goodbye.
I pushed the heavy wooden door of my mother’s house open and took a deep breath as I entered. The waft of roast beef and cinnamon filled my nostrils - the smell of home.
"Hello, Mum?"
Mickey stepped through the door behind me but said nothing. His eyes scanned the hallway. He was on high alert as he entered the unknown. But he wasn't looking for vampires; he was on the lookout for my mother who I suspected could be more terrifying. He flinched at a clatter from the kitchen. Mum used several expletives and as I poked my head around the kitchen door, I saw her wiping up gravy of the kitchen floor. "C'mon,” I said to Mickey, grabbing his hand and leading him into the room.
Mum spun around sharply, quickly got up and threw the dirty tea towel into the sink behind her. "We'll have to have instant," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "I used the last of the flour on that batch."
"That's fine, whatever is easier," I told her brightly. I didn't feel bright, I felt like I was offering Mickey up like the sacrificial lamb, but I figured that it was best to appear confident and assume that lunch would be a success. That way there was a chance that it might turn out okay after all and even that Mickey might come and visit again. "This is Mickey."
Mum extended a hand. She had a firm handshake, as did Mickey. It was business-like.
"Very pleased to meet you, Mrs. Morgan. Thank you so much for asking me to lunch, it smells gorgeous, really lovely.
"I was making it anyway so it's no effort to feed another mouth," she replied matter-off- factly. The corners of her mouth smiled, but another emotion sat behind it, I could tell, I knew her well. We were cut from the same cloth.
"Can I do anything to help?" Good Mickey, good. The muscles in my chest relaxed and I eventually exhaled. Mum's face warmed. "You can put the kettle on, it's over there. Sophie, can you get the glass jug out from that cupboard? You should find some gravy granules on that top shelf behind the soup. I'll go set the table. Mickey, do you want wine with your dinner or a beer?"
"No thanks, Mrs. Morgan, water from the tap will do me just fine." He filled the kettle at the sink and flicked it on.
As Mum left the room armed with cutlery and napkins, I noticed her take a quick peek at the two of us from the corner of her eye. I pretended not to notice and carried on with the tasks Mickey and I had volunteered for. Her eyes shone and I wondered if she was happy or teary. Sometimes it was impossible to tell.
Mum shot Mickey a cold smile as we set about attacking our lunch. “So, this job you've had an interview for, what is it?"
Mickey was silent. In our preparations for his first meeting with my mother, this was the one elephant in the room we'd forgotten to cover. I'd briefed him on a selection of likely topics from music to animal welfare; hell we'd spent half an hour debating which of the half a dozen t-shirts that he'd packed, was the most suitable.
My heart shifted up to my throat. I pushed it back down with the Yorkshire pudding I had previously been taking my time to consume.
"A graduate scheme with one of the big accountancy firms," he replied, smiling. "It's not what I was looking for, but a cousin of mine works in their Manchester office and managed to get me in. They could only see me in Cardiff though. It turns out I'm not what they're looking for either, but you have to consider all avenues don't you, Mrs. Morgan?"
I didn't know where any of this was coming from, but it was good. I didn't want to sabotage it by interfering so I let the conversation continue while I sat back and enjoyed it. The instant gravy granules hadn't fully dissolved and there were tiny globules of beefy loveliness swimming around the second Yorkshire pudding on my plate. I sliced it in half and let the gravy pour over my roast potatoes. This is great, I told myself.
"I use an accountant," Mum said, "but I do most of the day to day stuff myself. If you're planning on pursuing it, I'd welcome an extra pair of hands, as I'm sure Sophie would. The shop floors run themselves, but the more I can offload the better! Are you planning on staying around, Mickey? I suppose it depends on where you find work doesn't it? Any other opportunities in the offing?"
"A few things but nothing definite. I've had a couple of months off at home now what with one thing and another. I need to find work soon, but I think mammy will need me at home for a little while yet."
"Oh yes, of course. It must be terrible for your parents, and for you of course. I was very sorry to hear about your brother, Michael."
"Thank you, Mrs. Morgan."
"Call me Julie."
"Thank you, Julie. Yes, it's been a difficult time for us all."
"So does that mean you'll be staying in Ireland for the time being?"
"For the time being, but I hope to come back and visit soon."
I smiled weakly
My mother cut up a roast potato and pushed it around her plate. “How lovely,” she said. "Perhaps next time we'll have a bit more notice and be able to make more of a fuss of you, especially as you'll only be visiting."
Yes, visiting, I thought. Just my luck.
"Where did you get all that from about your interview?" I asked, clunking the seat belt into its holster, and smiling at my Mum as she loitered at the garden gate.
"It's partially true. My cousin did get me an interview in my final year at uni, but it wasn't Cardiff, it was Bristol - and before you ask, yes it was accountancy and no it's not for me." He waved a thumb at my Mum through the glass. "I think she likes me."
"I think she likes the fact that you're leaving, but that you seem to have finding a job as a priority."
"Charming."
"It's not you,” I said, waving at Mum as I turned the key in the ignition. "She's naturally going to be wary; you did turn up out of nowhere, not to mention the whole thing about us meeting on holiday."
"Oh yeah," he nodded. "I hadn't thought of that."
The engine started, I reversed the car and pulled away from the kerb. I wanted Mickey to myself, despite the knowledge that it would mean leaving for the airport, closer to him getting on that plane and not seeing him again for who knows how long.
We sat in the comfortable silence we had become accustomed to, his hand resting gently over mine as it sat relaxed on the gear stick. The feel of his skin calmed my heightened emotions. I didn't want to say goodbye; I hadn't had long enough with him. I knew all too well that despite good intentions I might never see him again - the plane could crash, he could get hit by a bus, a vampire could come at him out of nowhere and take him, take me even.
"Do you ever think of him?" Mickey asked as I pushed the gear into fifth.
"Who, the vampire?" In truth, I hadn't given much thought to the beast I'd slain in my kitchen. Life had been quiet on the supernatural front and my thoughts had been mostly consumed by Mickey.
"No, your Da."
"Oh god no! Why would I think of him?"
"Because he's your daddy and your mum didn't make you on her own."
"I know what you're saying and for most people I'm sure that's true, you know the bit about him making me and I should think of him and all that, but I don't." I signalled and moved into the slow lane.
“I've never given much thought to him. I had a nice life; Mum was brilliant, and granny and granddad too. I don't feel like there's been a gap there."
"I know. I just don't like to think about you missing out."
"He's the one who missed out Mickey, not me."
"I know. He must be a prize idiot dropping your Ma though, she's lovely."
"Have I got competition?"
"Well, now you mention it..." He shrugged his shoulders sarcastically. I smacked him playfully with my left hand.
"Ouch, ooh you hurt me there you big bully,” he squealed.
"Shut up, you big girl's blouse."
"No, you shut up."
"No, you shut up."
Our banter continued until Bristol, when the ominous cloud of his departure loomed closer. His words became less playful and more sombre. He gazed more frequently out the window into the cars and gardens that we passed, deeper in thought and more careful with words.
"Not far now," I said, passing a bed and breakfast which offered discount parking and a shuttle service for airport travellers.
"Aye, I remember this bit. It was dark then though. I didn't realise there was so little about."
"Yep, I bet they don't get much trouble around here. It'd be noisy though."
"Surely."
"Did you make sure you packed everything?"
He took a double take back at the holdall on the back seat. "Yeah, I've got everything."
"Good. That's good."
"If I've forgotten anything, I can pick it up next time."
"Yes, that's a good point."
"It means I'll have less to pack."
"Uhuh."
"Or you could bring it over with you, if you want to visit me that is. I don't think Ma will be quite up to it yet, but you know, soon, if you want to."
"Sounds nice.” I flicked the indicator up and turned into the airport. In minutes, we'd be in the drop-off area.
"So maybe you'll come visit?"
"For sure, yeah, I'd love to."
"That's good, yeah, really good."
I manoeuvred the roundabout, halted and took a ticket from the yellow machine at the entrance to the drop off zone.
"Sophie?"
The barrier went up, but my foot hovered over the clutch pedal. The engine hit the familiar murmur of its biting point. The vehicle behind me beeped. Mickey fidgeted in his seat, flustered.
"Yes Mickey?"
"You'll be careful when I'm away won't you?"
"Yes, I'll be careful."
"Because I'd hate it if anything happened to you."
"I know. Michael, it will be fine, I promise." I lifted my foot off the clutch and depressed the accelerator. "After this long I think we can safely say that my vampire fighting days are well and truly over."
"Alright, just take heed, be careful. And your Mum too, you look after each other."
"Of course we will. You take care of you and yours. It's all good Mickey, I promise you, and things are going to turn around now. Things couldn't be any worse I know, but now it's about us and it's about our families. No vampire is going to get in the way of that."
I pulled into the lay-by and turned off the engine. Mickey placed his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me into him. Our foreheads met and he gazed seriously into my eyes.
"I'm serious Sophie. I came here to warn you as much as to be with you. I just want you to be safe. For all we know, none of this shit is over. Your neighbour could be a vampire, any one of those tenants of yours that you go visit on your own. Fuck, you could get jumped walking to your car.”
"That's what my stabby screwdriver is for," I said, reaching into his lap and pulling the tool from my handbag nestled in it. I knew that making light of the situation wouldn't help him, but I knew what he had been through with Sean and I couldn't let him leave with any more stress than he already had. I'd taken control of my life in moving back to Wales and it was how I intended to carry on, murderous vampires breaking into my house or not. I was no longer the scared, isolated girl who had returned from Antwerp. Something had changed in me. A switch had flicked me into survivor mode and, despite the occasional sleepless night, I was doing pretty well at it. Perhaps it was all front, just for show - for him or for me, I didn’t know, but that was my story and I was sticking to it.
Mickey gave up trying to be sensible with me. He wanted a positive, lasting memory of me as much as I did of him. We needed our parting to be more than talk of vampires, because if anything did happen to either one of us, we wanted that final memory to be a comforting one. He drew me into him and kissed me. It was deep and tender and had the weight of the world behind it - all the emotion that a man who had lost everything, and yet remained capable of love, could muster. I kissed him back, although inside I could feel my heart ripping in two.
I fought back the tears until he'd entered the terminal and used the twenty minutes left on my parking ticket to weep silently into the steering wheel.
11
I didn't feel like going back to an empty house. Although Mickey and I had shared only a few short days together, I knew his scent would linger on my sheets and his empty coffee cup would still be sat on the drainer. I had work to get back to, work that I'd put off for days, but I decided to shirk my responsibilities for a little longer nonetheless.
I drove back to my mother's house.
When I arrived, she was lounging, relaxed in the living room with her feet tucked up behind her on the sofa. A cup of tea, half-drunk but still circled by steam, sat on the coffee table before her. She was reading the Sunday newspaper.
"Oh, hello lovely! I didn't hear you sneak in,” she said. I breathed a sigh of relief. "There's tea in the pot if you want one."
"Thanks, great." I slung my bag on the floor next to the sofa and walked across the hall into the kitchen. It was spotless. She'd washed up and put away all the trappings of dinner too. She was like me - industrious when stressed or when attempting to figure out the answer to a puzzle.
I grabbed a mug from the cupboard, added a splash of milk from the small cow-shaped milk jug and filled it with tea from the pot.
"Do you want a biscuit?" I shouted across the hallway.
"No, ta,” she replied. “I’m still stuffed from dinner. Hey, have you heard the latest about that old iron age man thingy that they found at the dump?"
The teaspoon clattered into the empty sink. I gripped the edge of the basin and took a deep breath. "What's that?" I yelled.
“That body they found in the tip.”
“No. Hang on I’ll be there in a sec.” I took a few deep breaths, shook my shoulders loose and returned to the living room. I sank into the armchair beside Mum. “So, what’s the news then? Have they found out anything interesting?”
"They're doing more tests on it at the university,” Mum said. “They hope to be able to display it."
"They want to what?" I said, coughing through my tea.
"Display it, you know at the museum I expect, for educational purposes." She put the paper down on her lap. "You know Sophie; I've not been to the museum in Cardiff since you were a kid. We should go, it could be fun."
"Uhuh, maybe." I suddenly didn't want the chocolate digestive I held in my hand. I put it down on the table.
"Perhaps we could do it when Mickey visits again. If he visits that is."
"I think he'll visit again,” I replied, “when things have settled down at home. It's been tough for them all. I can’t imagine what it must be like losing a child. It must be awful for his parents."
Mum took a sip of her tea. "Of course,” she said.
“Sean was such a lovely kid too,” I told her. “Totally harmless. A real sweetie.”
Mum reached over and rubbed my knee. “I’m sure he was,” she said. “And if I’m honest, Mickey seems like a nice lad too.” She smiled.
“He is Mum, he really is.” I could feel by bottom lip begin to tremble. They were both decent lads who didn’t deserve what had happened to them. Whateve
r way I packaged it, it was my fault. It was me who had attracted the vampires’ attention in the first place. It was me who went after them, dragging Mickey behind me. It was me who seemed to be the primary target in their vengeful vendetta.
Mum didn’t need to hear all that I though. I sat up a little straighter and picked up my tea. “Plus, Mickey has to get a job and he’ll have to go where the work is, I guess. He can’t build his life around me. It’s early days after all.”
“That sounds sensible lovely.”
“We’re friends more than anything,” I said. “Good friends, and I value that more than anything. I’m just going to take one day at a time with him.”
"I'm relieved to hear it." Mum smiled, the mood lightening.
Of course, I wouldn't build my life around him. I was too busy trying to build one around normality, stability and not being killed by vampires. Although I felt quite together at that moment, more so than I did in Coventry with a vampire living in the flat above me, I knew I was still fragile. The nightmares that had returned were proof of that.
I was suppressing my anxiety with a reasonable degree of success. Murder a vampire in your kitchen? Get rid of the body! Get told that the vampires, who attacked you on holiday, killed your potential boyfriend's brother? Focus on the man you might quite possibly be falling in love with. Yes, sleep with him before he gets on a plane, lost to you forever. Deflection or affirmative action, my catch-all for dealing with any stressful situation.
I winked at her. "Anyway, we're doing just fine on our own, aren't we Mum?"
"Hell yes!" Mum agreed. She grabbed the tea and took a big slurp.
Mum and I watched the Antiques Roadshow, guessing the values of each collectable and wondering how vehemently owners would deny their desire to sell.
“Right,” Mum said. “Like you wouldn’t want to shift that old tat if you could.”
“I know! Look at her, all ‘I would never sell this but tell me how much it’s worth please’, I bet she’ll be asking him afterwards how much the dealer will give her for a quick sale.”
Sophie Morgan (Book 2): Death in the Family Page 10