Language in the Blood

by Angela Lockwood

  Chapter 14: Madeleine

  Going back to Paris after the Second World War was going to require a bit of work. Some of my neighbours had known me for close to 18 years and to them I would be in my late thirties at least. George the Elder agreed that I didn’t look it, so I decided to grow a moustache and we put white paint on a few hairs to age me. Even with those, George thought I could only pass for a youthful 30 at a push.

  Before we went back to my apartment, I sought contact with my pre-war criminal acquaintances. I wanted some French uniforms and papers to match. Some of my contacts had done very well with various racketeering scams and I did a few jobs for them in exchange for some new identity papers and the uniforms. George, of course, disapproved, but I made it very clear to him that it wasn’t possible to live as a vampire by any legal means and I forced him to accompany me on a robbery. We were to break into a warehouse and I made George the lookout on the job.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re making me do this. I’ve never done anything illegal in my life,’ he complained.

  ‘The food problem, you can solve as you like, but you need clothes and papers.’ He hated me for what I had made him become.

  After my six-year absence, I was amazed to find my Paris apartment intact and, apart from a thick layer of dust, unchanged. I’m not sure why the neighbours hadn’t looted the place or why the Germans hadn’t raided it, but suspected the neighbours were on to me and wouldn’t have dared set foot in the vampire’s lair, just in case I jumped out of my coffin and killed the lot of them. I knew Madame Maréchal was terrified of me and had once accused me of stealing her dog. I’d been dressed up ready to go out for a party when she’d confronted me.

  ‘I’m sure you took my Lulu! You were always giving her treats, trying to lure her into your place,’ she said to me about three days after the dog had gone missing.

  ‘What! Lulu is gone? You know I’m fond of that dog, but I wouldn’t steal her! Feel free to come up and have a look for yourself,’ I’d offered innocently.

  I knew dear old Madeleine Maréchal would love to come up and have a good old nose around. Lulu was obviously long gone and I always tried to make the place look as normal as possible. My windowless room was just a cloakroom, there was a mirror in Charley’s old room and hell I even kept some garlic in the kitchen, vile stuff which I have to handle with gloves. The wartime blackout curtains were doing an excellent job and allowed me to use my actual bedroom.

  Madame Maréchal had had a good look around, even looking under the bed, while calling out for her little poodle. ‘I don’t trust men that don’t work and just party all night. It’s just not right,’ she told me.

  ‘I’m sorry. My dad left me with loads of money and no ambition. But I didn’t take your dog!’

  I know the next thing I did that night was pretty stupid, but it was worth it to see her face. I hissed at her as she walked out of my place and showed her my fangs.

  ‘I’m sorry, Madame Maréchal! Fancy dress party tonight. Aren’t these just too realistic?’ I’d called after her. She had almost run down the stairs and slammed the door to her apartment shut.

  She had the same look on her face six years later when she spotted me and George in French uniforms coming into the entrance. She and Madame Robert were gossiping on the stairs.

  ‘Trust you to have survived the front! I’m very surprised a dandy like you even enlisted,’ said Madame Maréchal.

  ‘Glad to see you are looking well, Madame Maréchal!’ I said as I lifted my cap in greeting. ‘This is my friend Monsieur Valbonne. I’m trying to turn him into a useless waste of space like myself.’

  ‘Well, we are all glad the war is over,’ said Madame Robert, ‘you and Monsieur Valbonne should enjoy the parties. It’s so nice to see French uniforms again!’

  ‘War has agreed with you Monsieur Beaufort. You look almost younger than when you left.’ Madeleine looked me up and down suspiciously.

  ‘Avoid sunlight ladies. Sunlight is simply murder on your skin!’ I said giving them my most charming smile. With that we went upstairs and settled in for the day.

  I was so pleased all my things were still there. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust but we could deal with that once we’d had a rest. After months of roaming the countryside it was heaven to have clean towels and a bath at last. We took the dusty bedspreads off the beds and lay there resting and reading until night fell again.

  George and I quickly became very popular with the many American soldiers in the city. We were able to translate between them and the local demoiselles and I liked them as they had the best things to trade with: nylons, alcohol and cigarettes. The Nazis had robbed Paris pretty clean and I had to make my money via other means.

  George hadn’t been happy since I’d met him and nothing changed. Although we had bonded while we fought the Germans, he now started to disapprove more and more of the way I behaved and conducted business. With the war over, he wanted to do no more killing or drinking human blood. He disliked my criminal buddies and wanted nothing to do with my shady activities. He often did what I had done in the early days and made money helping the traders at Les Halles.

  He did enjoy going to the many jazz clubs and mingling with the soldiers and the French Zazous they attracted. He even started to dress like the Zazous, with their big coats and woollen ties. I had hated them before the war, but I was pleased George was mingling with the locals and I hoped he would start to love life in Paris.

  We agreed that we would have to move though. Madame Maréchal was becoming very suspicious of me and didn’t like the fact that we dragged young girls back to the apartment at all hours. Well, I dragged girls back to the apartment. George wouldn’t have anything to do with them. He still considered himself to be a married man.

  We found another apartment closer to the clubs and I made a tidy profit on the sale as we were leaving a rather good part of town. I didn’t think of my old neighbours again until 1949 when I found myself in the old neighbourhood again. I was eyeing up the property of a rich businessman, when I spotted an old lady walking a small dog across the road from me. Madame Maréchal! My God, the last three years have not been kind to you.

  She had aged a lot and was now shuffling along the road with the help of a stick. Should I? Could I? Who would believe an old bat like her if she told people she had been attacked by a vampire that used to live in her building? I intercepted her by a small patch of derelict land, the old garden walls were still up, but the villa had gone. I dragged the old woman and the dog behind the wall before she had a chance to scream.

  ‘If you are quiet, I will let you live,’ I whispered in her ear

  ‘Take my watch! I don’t have any money... Oh, please don’t hurt me!’ she pleaded.

  I turned her around so she could see me and her eyes widened in terror.

  ‘Monsieur Beaufort! Please! Don’t hurt me!’

  ‘It’s Mr Blair now actually and I am a vampire.’ I sprung my fangs and hissed at her. She started to cry, clutching the little Pomeranian to her chest. The poor thing was struggling to get out of her tightening embrace.

  ‘You’re an evil, evil man! I’ve always known there was something very wrong with you.’ She backed away from me, so I jumped forward and snatched the little dog from her, breaking the leash as she tried to hold on to it.

  ‘No… No! Not my little Bisou! She’s all I have,’ she begged.

  ‘Kiss her goodbye. She’s going to join Lulu!’ I said with great glee.

  Now, Pomeranians are a bit hairy, but utterly delightful once you’ve managed to sink your fangs into that little throat. Madeleine let out an almighty scream and fell to her knees. I quickly disappeared into the night – the scream was certain to wake up the whole neighbourhood. Bisou, drained and limp, I tossed into the Seine.

  About two weeks later, I overheard the following conversation between two men in a local café.

  ‘Did you hear about Madame Maréchal?’

  ‘No, what
happened?’

  ‘She was walking her dog when the leash broke. It ran off never to be seen again.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She was found screaming blue murder saying that a vampire took and sucked the dog dry right in front of her.’

  ‘A vampire?’

  ‘She really has gone quite mad and walks around holding a large cross, saying that the vampires are coming to eat our dogs.’

  ‘No…! To eat our dogs?’

  ‘I know! She’s completely bananas.’

  ‘Another drink, Jean-Claude?’

  ‘Nah. Best go home now. I don’t want to be out too late if there are vampires about!’ And with that the two men left the café, laughing heartily.