She swallowed hard, ‘I don’t understand you….I.. I don’t understand you’
‘Oh I think you do. I think we understand each other.’
‘No, no…this isn’t what I want,’ What was he going to do? Was he going to rape or even murder her? What was he talking about when he said she would have to give her life. She started to move away then became paralysed with fear. His arm around her becomes tighter and then he moved the other one to hold her too. He was so much stronger than her.
‘You know too much now Christine. You cannot refuse. You will be helped, but MY way. Which isn’t what you wanted is it? What did you expect? Who do you think you are? You are nothing.’ She looked up at him. The whites of his eyes had filled with blood. She screamed and then felt as if her breath had stuck in her chest and she couldn’t breathe or make any more noise. He roughly pulled her head to one side and bit hard into her neck.
‘Michael, I told you my guts are off, why have we got to come here?’
‘Stephen, I have got a little extra job now with Mr Morgan and he might have a bit of work for you, so has asked that I bring you.’
‘I don’t want another job, I’ve got enough with the one I’ve got, and band.’
Michael turned towards him and stopped him in his tracks, ‘What if this job made you irresistible to women?’
‘I wouldn’t mind that, but he can’t promise that. That will never happen, and you are daft if you believe that line.’
‘It can happen and it has happened ….to me already.’
‘Who have you got off with then?’
‘A gentleman never tells, Stephen. Remember that, but she can’t get enough of me.’
‘What’s the job?’
‘I don’t know, but as my job is to do as he says and he said, bring you to him, then I won’t be doing my job, if I don’t bring you to your job, will I?’
‘You’re talking double dutch now.’
‘That may well be so. But it will all become clear when we get there, because Mr Morgan is very good at expressing himself and you will be very certain of your job then, lad.’
‘Fair enough, then.’
They carried on down the path, then through the gates and up the gravel drive in silence. It was very cold and Stephen thought he would be glad to get into the warm.
They rang the bell and heard clattery footsteps coming closer, which they could tell weren’t Norman’s. The door opened and a large lady opened it. She looked flushed and was giggling. Maybe she even looked a little tiddly.
‘Come in, sweeties. Norman is expecting you.’ They followed her up the hall and she was indeed unsteady on her feet.
Michael said out of the corner of his mouth to Stephen, ‘Don’t you call him Norman. It’s Mr. Morgan to you.’ Stephen replied with a nod.
‘He’s in his office,’ Christine said.
‘I know the way,’ said Michael and pushed past her. She giggled, which annoyed him and then she walked away. Michael knocked on the door and heard nothing, but entered anyway. Norman was at his desk, both hands on the blotter.
He said in a very relaxed way, ‘Just show the boy in, then wait in the other room.’
‘Oh, I thought we could have a chat about stuff.’
‘Not tonight. After this, I have to go out again. Strike while the iron is hot. Show the boy in.’ He then got up from his desk and started to walk towards the door.
He turned round to Stephen, put his hand on his shoulder and said, ‘It’s for the best, honestly.’ Stephen stared at him curiously.
‘Eh!’
‘Go in then, fool.’ Michael pushed him through and Stephen strolled in, and shut the door in Michael’s face.
Michael heard a scuffle, just the other side of the door. Then what sounded like a person hitting the other side of the door and sliding down it, to the floor. It didn’t bother him one bit.
8 - Garlic
Ernie was on the phone again. He had probably been on and off for about three hours. His wife Lynn was supplying him with constant coffee and homemade biscuits, so there was a silver lining to every cloud. He was making sure that there would be enough tonight to make a viable rehearsal. Some people he couldn’t get hold of. He didn’t know if they were over their illness or at work. But he wanted at least one in the smaller sections and more in the larger ones, or it wasn’t worth pulling Barry out of the pub to do the rehearsal. Cornets were sorted. He had done those first. It looked like Diane was still ill, but Sophie was coming and as she was Principal Cornet and that was all he was bothered about. Liz was going to turn up, ‘although not functioning at full capacity, so don’t expect too much,' Andy had said. Maurice was coming. Ernie had expected him not too. As the oldest member that had attended the function on Saturday and, as he was off on Monday, Ernie thought he would be a definite absentee. But no, according to Maurice he felt as right as rain. All the other people, who had played on Saturday were not coming, apart from Liz and Maurice. Keith said he felt better but had had his shift changed at work, so wasn’t coming. Ernie couldn’t keep up with him, but often the atmosphere in the bandroom was better with him not there, so that was fine. He had the other trombones coming, so he wasn’t bothered. He had one euphonium, one baritone, two horns, one of each tuba and four percussionists out of five. That was plenty. He hoped though that this bug, or whatever they had, cleared up soon as it was due to snow next week and he would hear every excuse in the book to get out of band. Rehearsal time was short for this carolling job with the school. He was just thinking about putting extra vitamins in the pot of tea for band, when the phone rang.
Geoff was an ex-serviceman, always pristine in appearance and very stern. He didn’t suffer fools gladly and had no sense of humour whatsoever. Other people found him very hard to get along with, which was fine as he didn’t get on with most of the band either and got extremely annoyed when people didn’t ‘pull their weight’. Geoff was also, in time determined to take over the band and then he would crack down on this lackadaisical behavior. He had a list of forbidden actions. Firstly, not turning up to every band job and rehearsal. Secondly, not practising their parts at home. Thirdly, tea breaks, they were out. Tea was for the sick and infirm.
His son Shaun played on percussion and tonight, they were on their way to band practice with brass band music playing on the CD in the car. Shaun was a very decent young man. Although, since young Bob had started, he had noticed Shaun and Bob being a little disruptive at the back of the bandroom, especially during ‘march season’ when they had little to do. Tonight, Ernie had told him he was flying solo as Darren was still off due the mystery illness contracted on Saturday. Geoff thought this mystery illness was probably alcohol related and thus, shameful, to miss two rehearsals. That was unheard of, in his book. He thought that there was more to this than meets the eye about this matter. This required more investigation. Then a sacking.
Gary set off in his old Land Rover. He was big friends with Tony who had persuaded him to get one for himself and he had never looked back. It was especially handy for his plumbing business and it always started. Even if it didn’t, Tony knew what to do about it and would come over, then it would be soon chugging along again. Tonight, Gary was giving Danny a lift to band. Ernie had said it was like a Friarmere Plague and he was glad (and so was Ernie) that he hadn’t played on Saturday as he was the only flugelhorn and would be sorely missed.
Danny would be the only baritone tonight as Stephen was still ill. Probably the band wouldn’t be able to tell as Stephen wasn’t the best musician and, half the time, kept his instrument in his lap. So, it was only usually Danny that you heard anyway. Gary pulled up outside Danny’s house and, as Danny was looking out between the curtains for him, he came straight out. He opened Gary’s back door and put his instrument on the seat, then got in the front, rubbing his hands against the cold.
‘Alright Gary?’ he said.
‘Aye, I am. Are you? Not come down with the lurgy have you, from band?’
‘No. I’ve not seen anyone since Wednesday. Can you smell garlic on me, I’ve had Bolognese?’
‘Yeah I can. I’m glad you’re not sitting next to me at band. You can’t have garlic lad on the nights you’re going band. Smells like that stick for ages down your instrument. You want to do what I do and have a chippy tea. Pudding, peas and chips.’
‘You can’t have that every time, Gary.’
‘I do,’ Gary replied, ‘You can’t beat it.’
‘I’d be making other smells if had peas every night,’ Danny laughed.
‘That is why this cat, lives alone. No ladies to moan at me. Free and easy I am at night. A waft of the duvet, and it's away. It’s only natural,’ Danny laughed. ‘Actually, I would wind your window down, just to be safe.’ Gary said, slightly embarrassed. Danny didn’t laugh at this and wound his window down, as the waft of digested peas began to get to him.
‘Are you having a pint after Danny? I was going to.’
‘Oh yeah. We’ll have a pint. There is always something to moan about after band.’
‘There is indeed. How’s the motor?’
‘I think she is going to the big scrapyard in the sky. I am going to have to sort another one out.’
‘Get one of these. You will never look back. Join the Tony and Gary club.'
‘I’ll definitely think about it. I don’t want another one of those pieces of crap anyway,’ Danny said. Gary indicated right and started to slow down to turn down the road to the bandroom. As they bumped down the country track, Danny nearly hit the ceiling with the combination of the bumps and the suspension on the Land Rover, as he was a good six feet four inches tall. ‘On second thoughts, I might not survive one of these Land Rovers.’
‘Just brace yourself on the dashboard,’ Gary said.
They pulled up outside the bandroom, got out their instruments and went inside.
‘Right,’ Ernie said, ‘Looks like everyone who is coming, is ‘ere. A couple have made the effort to come even though they have had this illness from Saturday. So can we show our appreciation for Liz and Maurice.’ There was a quiet few seconds of clapping from the rest of the band. Ernie waited until it had ended then spoke again.
‘Very important that everyone tries to make all rehearsals as so many are off and we need a balanced band to practice this music for the school gig. So watch who’s germ’s you’re breathing and don’t do any skiing.’ This was a little joke of Ernie’s, but it didn’t raise any kind of appreciation.
‘It’s Armistice this Sunday, so I need everyone fighting fit. Anyway, very kindly, the bloke who booked us last week has sent a few bottles of wine for us to have. Maurice bumped into him, just by chance. Can I stress that only non-drivers can have a glass at break. Whatever’s left will be going for raffle prizes at Christmas.’ He walked back to his chair at the back and Barry took control of the rehearsal.
They started with a Hymn, ran through Land of Hope and Glory and had just started Jerusalem. When Barry stopped the band, holding his hand over his nose and mouth.
‘Someone’s bell stinks of garlic!’ He shouted.
Gary looked over his glasses at Danny and their eyes met, he gave a brief nod. Told you so, it said.
‘Sorry Barry,’ Danny said quietly, ‘I’ve had bolognese.’
‘Hell’s teeth lad, my toes are curling. Point your bell elsewhere.’
Everyone laughed and Danny blushed a little but laughed along with them. He tilted his chair more to the right.
‘Bloody Nora!’ Pat squawked, ‘This is the one time I wish Stephen was here, in between us, blocking that stench!’
Everyone laughed again.
Liz looked at Maurice, he could see that she was taking deep breaths as off to stave of vomiting and her eyes were full of tears. Her fingers were holding on to her instrument so tight that the knuckles were white. He looked up and their eyes met.
Maurice stood up, then picked up his stick. ‘Sorry Barry, I think it’s a bit too much too soon for me. I’ll have to get off home.’
‘Do you want someone to take you. Make sure you get in ok’
‘No, no. You’d better not. Probably safest.’
‘Er…ok. Fair enough. Get to bed. I’ll ring you tomorrow.’
‘Yes, alright. Night everyone.’
‘Night’, they all called back and Maurice quickly shut the door.
They waited a few seconds then Sophie said, ‘I hope it’s nothing catching because he has been sitting next to me for half an hour. It’s bad enough I’ve got my mother ill. I don’t need old man disease as well.’
‘Watch it,’ Ernie said. ‘He could be right outside the door and that’s rude anyway, Sophie. Besides that he has got what your mother has anyway and you haven’t caught it off her, have you?’
Sophie hummphed and started fiddling with her music.
‘He didn’t look good, did he, poor fella?’ said Andy.
‘No, and I was thinking how good he looked when he came in earlier. He was walking a lot faster than usual and didn’t look as tired. He must have just gone off,' Ernie shrugged.
‘I think he got a whiff of that garlic. If he’s been sick, that will put him right off, especially if its his stomach that is dicky,’ Pat grunted.
‘Thanks, that’s made me feel loads better about my bolognese,’ Danny replied.
‘Don’t have it again on band night,’ Barry said shaking his head, ‘they are dropping like flies as it is’
Maurice got outside the bandroom and took in the fresh cool night air through his nose several times. He didn’t breathe it in. He didn’t breathe anymore so he couldn’t. The smell of that garlic was terrible. It was all he could do to not just run out of the room, without his stick, screaming. Starting to relax, the fresh air was slowly wiping away the smell of the garlic. So, this was one of the new things he had discovered about himself. There were positives, yes. He felt healthy, he had no pain or stiffness in his leg. In fact it was as good as the other. His eyesight had improved. He had worn his glasses for band, but looked over the top of them to read the music, so as not to be found out. The negatives, well, he couldn’t bear garlic, which he used to love. He couldn’t go out into the daylight, which was going to stop him visiting one of his old friends in Whitby, the week after next. And he was going to spend a fortune on meat if he didn’t want to bite someone. He didn’t want to name what he was. Maybe he was in denial, but so what. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Did he mind? Hmmmm…that was difficult. No, it wasn’t difficult. He did mind. That is why he was lying in word and deed to just keep his old life. He wasn’t exactly embracing it was he. Plus, he had just worked out that his cornet mouthpiece had been pressing on his new teeth. That wasn’t good either.
Sandra Jones, or Mrs Jones, as she was known to her pupils walked out of the bright fluorescent lights of the school foyer into the dark cold night. She loved this time of year. Her favourite term was the Autumn Term. New pupils, Harvest, Halloween, Bonfire Night and now on to Christmas preparations. She had stayed late with Mrs White, who was Head of Music and Mr Shufflebotham, Headteacher, to sort our all Christmas activities. There was the Christmas Party to organise, talent show, buying the Christmas tree, the fancy dress competition, the school Christmas Fayre and three concerts. One for the school only, inside the school hall. One in the Church including a Christingle service and a joint one in the village with the local brass band. This was always the best one and her own children enjoyed it because both parents were involved as her husband Simon, played with the brass band.
As she walked, her mind drifted. She wondered what time Simon would get home tonight. He said he was going for a few drinks with the others. She knew they often had a few drinks. However, she had gone one time, about three months ago to surprise him, and he hadn’t been there. She stayed for a ‘quick one’ with the others but she felt they were tense and hiding something. Some of them were over enthusiastic which made it worse. Her spider sense was tingling. When she got home, Simon still wa
sn’t in. She waited up, which was unusual. He didn’t get back for another hour. She had asked him if had enjoyed band and he said yes. Then about going for drinks after and he said he had been talking about mouthpieces with some of the lads and the benefits of a fourth valve. Then he quickly went upstairs and had a shower. She followed him up and examined his clothes, smelling the ladies perfume on them, that definitely wasn’t hers. She looked at his phone and found messages from someone called Tracy. What was in the messages left her no doubt. But what could she do. Confront him, and he could go and be with this Tracy. She decided to sleep on it. Although she didn’t sleep much that night. In the morning, after thinking about the children, she decided to leave it and see what happens. The following practice she followed him and saw where he went. Tracy answered the door and from what she could see from the texts and how Tracy had greeted him, he was pulling the wool over both their eyes. She thought she would hate her, but she didn’t. Only pity and sadness about the whole situation. She had driven back towards home and felt strangely alright about it all, so had called for a drive through meal, from McDonalds. Turned her music on and ate her burger and drank her milkshake, singing aloud all the way home. She knew where she was at least with him, now. Sandra knew, deep down that tonight, he would be late.
She was halfway down the school drive when she saw some movement up ahead, near the hedge. A crouched figure could just about be seen in the darkness of the November night. It pulled her right out of her thoughts of Simon. Her stomach tensed. Oh no, what if it is a pervert or a group of druggies or something. She looked back at the school entrance and the light was was still on but no sign of Mrs White or Mr Shufflebotham. It was so quiet here, they would definitely hear her scream.
‘Hello?’ she said quietly. No answer. ‘Hello?’ she said a little louder and moved two steps backward. Then she something glitter or glint on their body, in the reflections of the school lights. They have a knife! She held her breath. She took another step back. They moved and suddenly stood up, tall. Run! Then at the last moment she noticed that the silver was buttons were on a uniform and it was a policeman. She let out all her breath in relief.
Sticky Valves: Book 1 of the Saddleworth Vampire Series Page 7