by Paul Magrs
Robert thought that was harsh. The furious wind and panic had spoiled the filming and the equipment anyway. All he and the girls had done was tidy up a little.
Alex sank to his knees, hugging his goat mask. ‘There is no film . . .’ he sobbed. ‘Oh, forgive me, my brothers . . .’
The weather was calming now. Everything was becoming much stiller. The abbey grounds were growing very quiet.
‘Owww!’ Mrs Claus broke out. ‘My arm’s hurting quite a bit now. I was stabbed, you know.’
Her elf came dazedly to his senses, and hastened to help his mistress back into the Cadillac.
Lisa rounded on them all, ‘Why didn’t anyone stop Karla? Why did we all let her go off dancing into hell?’
‘I don’t think we could have stopped her,’ Penny said. ‘Not after they’d chucked Victor in.’
‘She got what she wanted,’ Robert said.
Lisa Turmoil – stylist to the stars – looked at them all incredulously. ‘How do you know that? How could you know she’d rather be in hell?’
There was no answer to that. Not tonight, at any rate.
Brenda was staring at Effie. ‘I hope you know what you’ve done, lady.’
Epilogue
Before they all left the abbey grounds that evening, Effie stopped to beg a favour from the youngsters. ‘Robert, Penny – PLEASE, don’t let those Goths know he’s here. They’ll go crackers.’
Penny gave a puzzled smile. ‘Who? Why will they go crackers?’
But Robert understood only too well. He gave Effie’s man friend an ironic look up and down. Effie was right. The Goths would soil themselves if they knew who had appeared in their midst tonight. And who – it seemed – was here to stay. He nodded at Effie. ‘Okay. Look, we’re leading people back down the hill. The crew and all them lot. They’re in shock. Most of them.’
Already there were ambulances and police cars arriving. They’d be taking statements, setting limbs, frowning at the damage to a world-renowned heritage spot. Robert didn’t want to be anywhere nearby when they were asking their questions. Where to even start with the answers?
It was time to slink away home. And put an end to Goth night and Hallowe’en for another year.
‘You can’t stay here long,’ he warned Effie. ‘The police will be mopping people up.’
Effie nodded. ‘We’re just going to sit here for a bit. Look . . . look after Brenda, won’t you? She’s in no state . . .’
Robert nodded and bit his lip. He knew, deep in his heart, that Effie had done the right thing in getting rid of Brenda’s dad. But he also knew that it would take a long time, and a lot of convincing, for Brenda to see it that way. He smiled sadly at Effie, ignored her creepy bloke and said, ‘Come on, Penny. Let’s grab Lisa. She’s in a funny mood as well. We’ll gather up Brenda. I can hear bacon sarnies calling . . .’
They headed across the abbey grounds, under the crazy shadows thrown by the film lights in disarray.
Effie and Alucard sat on a low wall together, somewhere close to where the Bitch’s Maw had opened up. They watched the others drifting away.
Alucard turned to her with a smile. ‘You knew, Effie. You knew that I was trying to get back to you. You had faith . . .’
She shrugged. She was spattered with blood and grimy with grave mould and grass stains, but she was vaguely happy nonetheless. ‘I knew you’d come back to me. But what a long way round the houses, Kristoff. You probably caused more harm than good. Using that movie like you did. The famous curse. Setting up all of that . . . Even getting us travelling through time! And then acting through that weird cult, the Brethren. And was that really you behind Victor’s resurrection? Just so you could fight him again? You’ve been manipulating all these people. Messing with everyone’s destinies . . .’
He nodded. It was all quite true. And more! Effie didn’t know the half of it really. He beamed at himself and his own success.
She was staring at him. ‘It was all . . . just to get the gateway to open, wasn’t it? That was the reason for everything. You put us all through this whole nightmare simply in order to bring yourself home again to me.’
Alucard winked at her, as if it was all worth it.
Effie frowned. ‘People have lost a lot . . . Alex his career, look. Brenda’s lost Frank. Karla has gone to hell. Brenda’s lost her father once more.’
Alucard shrugged and put his cape around Effie’s shoulders for warmth. ‘No matter. So long as we are together again, Effie. What do the rest of them matter to us?’
Effie shook her head. ‘No, Kristoff. I can’t just go along with that. You mightn’t care about other people, but I still do. And besides . . . since you’ve been away, I think my feelings may have changed. I don’t know how I feel any more. All of this mayhem you’ve caused. All this upset . . .’
He was gobsmacked. ‘What?’
‘Things have happened. My head’s all upside down. What have I done here tonight? Have I done wrong?’ Her chin quivered.
‘What?’
Effie pointed at a large, shambling figure across the other side of the abbey grounds. She was standing a little distance from the dazed Alex and the hairdresser Lisa. ‘Look at Brenda. She’s alone.’
‘She doesn’t look alone. She’s got those young people.’
What Alucard said was right, Effie realised, as Robert and Penny came hurrying up, calling to Brenda to come away; to leave this place. To come with them, back into town.
Penny, Robert, Lisa, all clustering around Brenda. Triumphant, they were. And Effie believed they had a right to be. They had come to the end of another investigation. Everything was solved. Everything had come out right. And everybody was safe again.
But she could see, even at this distance, and in the misty gloaming of the abbey, that terrible sadness in Brenda.
She told Alucard, ‘I shouldn’t be sitting here. With you. I belong over there. With them.’
Alucard chuckled. A sound Effie found so very sexy. He whispered to her, ‘Oh no, my dear. You are surely mine . . .’
And then he leaned in, to kiss her at last.
What a palaver.
It was all this aftermath stuff that was Brenda’s least favourite part of any adventure. She felt rather distant from it all. Shock, she supposed.
She watched the police arriving. She watched the dumbstruck film crew slinking away. She watched the Goths looking startled as if they had witnessed a hellish form of firework display. Now almost everyone was streaming back down the hill. There was nothing more to see here.
She watched Mrs Claus being whisked away again in her pink Cadillac. Was she badly hurt? She had been bleeding copiously. But what did Brenda care for the old monster? Yet she found that she did. Weirdly. She wished her well, silently.
There was no sign of the gateway to hell. It was gone again. Until next time. We’re not doing a very good job, Brenda mused, are we? Of keeping it a secret. Keeping its secrets safe from the world.
Robert said to her, ‘What about going back to your attic, Brenda? Bacon sandwiches and spicy tea?’
Brenda smiled and nodded and let them urge her along.
Penny looked at her uneasily. ‘I’m sorry, Brenda. I wasn’t much use back there. I couldn’t believe that it was all coming true! It was all real!’
Robert put his arm over her shoulders. ‘But it was your idea to dump the film into hell, Penny! You were great!’
Penny looked abashed, but pleased.
Brenda took her hand. ‘This was your first adventure, Penny. You’ll soon get used to the things we do here. You’ll fit in nicely, I think. Just you wait and see.’
Then Brenda turned and took one last look at the now quiet scene of the evening’s dramas.
She stood for a moment watching Effie and Alucard. They sat in their own bubble of privacy, perched on a rock under a wonky arc light.
Sadly Brenda watched them canoodling.
I’ll leave them. Leave them in peace.
Effie had made
her choices. Was it the end of their friendship? Brenda wondered.
She was just about to turn away, to follow the others back into the town down the 199 steps, when she saw Alucard and Effie starting to kiss in earnest. It really wasn’t like Effie to make a public display. Something stayed Brenda. Some irksome, sinking, dreadful feeling. She blinked.
And she saw something awful.
Kristoff sinking his fangs into Effie’s tender neck . . .
Hell's Belles
PAUL MAGRS
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