Alfie the Werewolf 5: The Evil Triplets

by Paul van Loon

  ‘Um …’ Alfie said.

  Just then Luke stood up. ‘I know …’

  23

  Cake!

  ‘Really. I know,’ Luke said again.

  Alfie gaped at Luke. How did he—

  ‘Noura is allergic to … strawberries!’

  Mrs Chalker looked at Luke with big eyes. ‘Strawberries? Really?’

  Noura nodded her head furiously.

  Mrs Chalker coughed. ‘Oh, you dear! And I was trying to give you strawberry cake. How stupid of me. I should hang my head in shame. The others will just have to eat up the whole cake.’ She cut the cake into pieces and laid the silver cake forks next to them. ‘Sorry, boys and girls. It was lovely to visit, but I must be going. Enjoy the cake.’

  In the doorway she stopped suddenly and turned around. ‘Oh, before I forget, children. If you happen to bump into two ladies that look like me …’ Mrs Chalker looked at them with a serious expression on her face. ‘Just keep walking! They’re called Cheeker and Choker, and they’re very dangerous.’ Within a second she was gone. The creaking of her bones faded away down the corridor.

  The children were silent for a moment, and then they all roared, ‘Cake!’

  The strawberry cake was almost finished. Even Mr French had eaten a large piece. His chin was covered with red smudges.

  ‘I don’t know who that creaky old lady was,’ he said. ‘She was a strange woman, but a very kind one. She was an angel and she brought us a delicious cake.’

  Alfie and Noura were the only ones who hadn’t had any cake. Luke stuffed the last piece into his mouth with his hand. The silver cake fork was lying on his desk.

  ‘I never use those snooty little forks,’ he said, with one eye leering at Alfie. ‘So you’re allergic too, are you? Just like Noura?’

  Alfie nodded. Except I’m allergic to you, you smart alec, he thought.

  Then the bell rang.

  ‘Are you coming to Werewolf Wood tonight?’ Alfie asked Noura as they walked through the school gates.

  Noura nodded.

  ‘Phew,’ she said. ‘That was close. That silver fork made me feel really sick. Lucky for me Luke saved me just in time. He really thought I was allergic to strawberries.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Alfie said. ‘I saved you too, you know. I was the one who told Chalker that you were allergic in the first place.’

  They heard footsteps behind them.

  ‘Noura, wait a sec.’

  They looked back. It was Luke. He stopped and stood there panting.

  Humph, thought Alfie, he pants like a dog. And those eyes are just as doggy.

  Luke smiled at Noura. ‘I’m throwing a party tonight. Would you like to come?’

  Alfie sniggered quietly. Tough luck, Lukey, he thought. Of course Noura doesn’t want to go to your stupid party.

  ‘Oh, how nice,’ Noura said. ‘I’d love to.’

  Alfie’s mouth dropped.

  Luke nodded. ‘Great. It starts at eight o’clock. And, um, no strawberry cake. I promise.’ Luke looked at Alfie. ‘Sorry, Alfie, there’s no room for you. Our house is full. Bye.’ He handed a note to Noura and left.

  Alfie could hardly believe it. ‘Noura, you can’t go to Luke’s tonight. It’s still full moon. We were going—’

  ‘Don’t worry, Alfie. Of course I’m going to Werewolf Wood.’

  Alfie sighed. ‘Phew.’

  ‘After I’ve been to Luke’s party,’ Noura continued.

  ‘Oh.’

  Noura laughed. ‘I’m not going to stay there until I’m a werewolf, you know. I’ll be gone long before then.’

  Alfie walked on, grumbling. ‘I still don’t think it’s a good idea.’

  He walked into his street. In the distance two figures climbed out of a car with a rowing boat on the roof. Alfie recognized them at once.

  ‘Cheeker and Choker,’ he mumbled. ‘That’s what Mrs Chalker called them.’

  The two women muttered to themselves, swearing and cursing.

  ‘Grab that thing now, you miserable biddy.’

  ‘No, you, you old bag.’

  Alfie immediately hid behind a hedge. The women pulled a big black cauldron out of the car.

  What’s happening now? thought Alfie. What are those old ladies doing with a witch’s cauldron? And why is the rowing boat on their car?

  Still cursing, Cheeker and Choker dragged the cauldron into the garden. Suddenly there was a sound coming from behind him: creak-crack, creak-crack …

  ‘Hmmm, that’s not polite, dear boy. It’s bad manners to spy on people …’

  25

  The Cauldron

  Alfie’s shoulders tensed up. He was still scared of Mrs Chalker and now he felt her eyes pricking in the back of his neck. Slowly he turned around. Mrs Chalker smiled at him.

  ‘Just kidding, son. If you ask me you’re a little bit scared of my sisters. I understand that perfectly. They’re vicious.’

  Alfie nodded cautiously. Behind him he heard a door slam. Cheeker and Choker had gone inside.

  ‘I, um, I’d rather stay away from them, Mrs Chalker. They threw eggs at our front door.’

  Mrs Chalker’s eyes took on a fierce glow. ‘What? I didn’t know that. Your father didn’t tell me. What a waste of eggs.’ She gave a very loud sniff. ‘Hmm, they deserve to be punished for that. Just you wait. Tonight I’ll send them to bed without any supper. Or else I’ll make them sleep in the cauldron as punishment, hee-hee.’

  ‘The cauldron?’ Alfie said. ‘Is that for scary potions or something?’

  Mrs Chalker giggled. ‘Scary potions? Dear boy, of course not. They had to go and pick that cauldron up for me. I’m going to use it to boil up the second-hand clothes. They’re often old and musty. Full of dirty fleas and moths and all kinds of bugs. But I only ever give spotless garments to poor, underprivileged children.’ Mrs Chalker ran a long fingernail over Alfie’s head. A shiver ran down his back.

  ‘Hurry on home now, dear. My troublesome sisters are inside.’

  Alfie ran off.

  ‘Oh, son …’ Mrs Chalker called after him. With a pounding heart, Alfie stopped. He didn’t look back.

  ‘Those two will get their punishment this evening. Tell your father, will you?’

  Alfie ran into the living room. Dad was standing there with his accordion. Mum was walking through the room with a serving dish. Alfie put down his backpack.

  ‘Guess who I bumped into three times today …’ Then he fell silent.

  Someone was sitting on the sofa in a raincoat. Hat on. Walking stick.

  Grandpa Werewolf never visited in the daytime. Only when something serious was going on.

  Leaning on his walking stick with his front paws, Grandpa slowly looked up at Alfie.

  25

  The Werewolf Blues

  ‘Grandpa Werewolf! What are you doing here?’ Alfie looked at his parents. Dad shrugged.

  ‘It’s Leo,’ Grandpa said. ‘He’s— Oh, thank you.’

  Mum put a plate of juicy steak down in front of Grandpa. ‘Have something to eat first, Grandpa.’

  Grandpa Werewolf nodded approvingly. ‘Mmm, raw. Nice and bloody.’ He took a big bite out of the steak and red juices ran down over his fangs. ‘Delicious,’ he growled. ‘Grandma Werewolf used to serve them up like this in the old days.’

  ‘Grandma Werewolf?’ Dad asked.

  ‘Grandpa will tell us about that another time,’ Alfie said. ‘We’re talking about Leo now.’

  Grandpa was staring into space with a dreamy expression. Alfie sat down next to him on the sofa.

  ‘Grandpa, tell us. What’s happened to Leo?’

  Grandpa took off his hat. His eyes grew big.

  ‘Leo hasn’t come back, Alfie. There’s no sign of him. He’s been missing since yesterday. That’s why I’ve come. To ask if he’s been here.’

  ‘No, we haven’t seen him at all.’

  Grandpa Werewolf sighed and scratched his black head. ‘I thought as much, son. I’m very worried
. Especially with those sisters hanging round.’ He stared at his walking stick gloomily. ‘I hope nothing bad has happened to him. Leo doesn’t always look before he leaps. Sometimes he doesn’t even look after he’s landed.’

  Dad hurried over to the sofa with his accordion. ‘You’re just a bit down, Grandpa. I think you’ve got the werewolf blues. Shall I play a song for you? To cheer you up? What about a nice werewolf tearjerker?’

  ‘Preferably not,’ Grandpa Werewolf growled, but Dad had already stretched out the accordion. A sigh like a moaning whale reverberated through the room. In the kitchen a glass bowl vibrated off the counter, smashing on the floor.

  Dad started to sing.

  ‘Oh, Leo went out walking,

  And never did return.

  He wasn’t used to talking,

  Some words he’d never learn.

  And no one ever saw him …’

  ‘No, no,’ Mum and Alfie shouted together. ‘Stop.’

  Grandpa Werewolf had slid down off the sofa with his ears drooping. He stared up at Dad and his accordion in disbelief. Dad gave a big toothy grin.

  ‘Beautiful, isn’t it, Grandpa? It knocked you right off your feet.’

  Grandpa hauled himself back up with Alfie’s help. Quickly he put his hat back on.

  ‘I’m sorry, I have to get going.’

  ‘Don’t you want another bite of steak?’ Mum asked.

  ‘And another song?’ Dad asked.

  Grandpa’s eyes flashed from the bloody steak to Dad’s accordion. He shook his head.

  ‘My mouth’s watering, but I have very sensitive ears. Plus I need to feed the Scoffle.’ He hurried out of the door.

  Dad smiled at Mum. ‘He liked it. He must have. Did you see the tears in his eyes? And he was so moved his ears went floppy. Yet another fan.’ Dad sighed. ‘If it goes on like this I’ll be really famous.’

  Mum rolled her eyes. ‘Definitely, dear.’

  Alfie ran out of the door after Grandpa Werewolf. ‘Wait a sec, Grandpa, I’ll walk with you a little bit.’

  26

  Wrong

  Alfie walked down the garden path next to Grandpa Werewolf, who was still a bit wobbly. Grandpa picked at one ear with a claw.

  ‘Ooph, I think I’ve got a bit of that, um … song stuck in my ear. That accordion thing makes a terrible racket. You could use it to drive out witches and ghosts!’

  Alfie sniggered. ‘Where are you going now, Grandpa?’

  ‘Oh, straight back to Werewolf Wood. Can you keep your eyes open for your cousin for me?’

  Alfie nodded. ‘Sure. I’ll see you again tonight when it’s full moon, Grandpa. Then we can search for Leo everywhere.’

  ‘See you tonight, Alfie.’

  Grandpa pulled his hat down over his face and turned his collar up so that only the glint of his eyes was visible. He looked left and right before walking out of the garden. His walking stick clicked on the paving stones. No one would suspect that the figure walking down the pavement in the overcoat was actually a werewolf. Not unless they looked at his hairy black feet, at least.

  Alfie watched him go, then walked back to the house. Suddenly a wind blew up, sounding like two voices singing a song.

  ‘Rubbedy, rubbedy, rubbedy, rubbedy.

  Rub the last one out …’

  Alfie froze. Am I hearing right? he thought. Those voices …

  He walked back to the gate and looked down the street. Leaves rustled over the pavement and gates banged in the wind. The street was empty. Grandpa Werewolf was nowhere in sight.

  ‘That’s funny,’ Alfie mumbled. ‘Grandpa doesn’t walk that fast. It’s as if he’s dissolved into thin air.’ Shaking his head, he went back inside. He felt bad, as if a boulder was pressing down on his heart. Three boulders, really. Somehow everything was going wrong. Arguing with Tim. Noura going to Luke’s stupid birthday party. Leo missing.

  And that wasn’t even counting Chalker, Cheeker and Choker. He sighed. And now Grandpa Werewolf had suddenly vanished too.

  27

  Spying

  When Alfie walked into the kitchen, Tim was sitting at the table next to Dad. Mum had put bowls of soup down in front of everyone.

  Alfie was about to say hello to Tim when he thought, Wait a second. I almost forgot that I’m angry with Tim. We’re having an argument. I wish we weren’t, but we are. If Tim comes out now and says he’s sorry, then everything will be OK again. As long as he’s not embarrassed about Dad any more.

  But Tim didn’t say anything.

  So Alfie didn’t say anything either. He looked in the other direction and didn’t sit down next to Tim. Tim shrugged.

  ‘Dad, are you going into town to do some busking later?’ he asked.

  Dad nodded. ‘It’s late-night shopping so there’ll be lots of people. I don’t want to disappoint my fans.’

  A smile flickered over Mum’s lips. Alfie ate his soup silently, then pushed the bowl away.

  ‘I have to go now. If you don’t mind.’

  Dad smiled. ‘I know why, kiddo. It’s full moon tonight. You go off and have lots of fun werewolfing. Give ‘em hell.’

  Mum rapped on the table. ‘Take your mobile phone with you, young man. We didn’t buy it so you could leave it behind. You never know when you might need it.’

  The full moon was already vaguely visible in the sky. Alfie was hidden behind a bright-red Fiat that was parked across the road from Noura’s. He couldn’t stop scratching. Werewolf itch. He always got it at full moon just before he changed.

  He peered past the car at Noura’s house and saw the door open. Noura came out, looked at a piece of paper and started walking. Alfie followed at a distance. The streetlights flicked on.

  Where does Luke live anyway? Alfie wondered. It must say on that piece of paper. It’s not nice of me to spy on her, he thought, a bit embarrassed. But I just don’t trust this Luke character.

  He ducked out of the way because Noura had stopped for a moment. She looked around as if trying to work out which way to go and every now and then she scratched herself too. Werewolf itch. Then she walked on. Out of the street, left, straight ahead.

  Alfie crept from car to car. When there were no cars, he hid behind trees. When there were no trees, he hid behind hedges, keeping as close as he could to Noura.

  Finally she stopped in front of an old house. It was dark and looked very run down.

  Noura pulled out the piece of paper and read it carefully. Then she looked back at the house.

  Alfie had hidden himself behind a wheelie bin. He could see Noura frowning in surprise.

  So Luke lives in that old dump, he thought. By the look of things, Noura can’t believe it either. And why is it so dark? It looks deserted.

  Noura walked up the path.

  Don’t, Noura, thought Alfie. There’s something fishy about that house! Don’t go up there!

  For a moment Noura looked back, as if she could hear him thinking, but Alfie didn’t dare show himself.

  Turn back, Noura! he thought as forcefully as he could. Turn back!

  Then the lights flicked on in the house. The front door opened. Warm yellow light leapt out on to the path and loud hip-hop music danced out into the twilight. Voices. Party noises. A figure was standing in the doorway.

  ‘Hi, Noura.’ It was Luke. He brushed his stupid black hair back with one hand. ‘Welcome to my party,’ Alfie heard him say. ‘I’m glad you could make it. Come inside.’

  Noura followed Luke in and the front door banged shut behind her.

  Behind the wheelie bin, Alfie groaned softly.

  28

  Come out!

  Alfie blew on his hands. It was starting to get cold and he was still crouched behind the bin.

  I’ll just wait till Noura comes back out, he thought. Then I’ll run straight to Werewolf Wood. She doesn’t need to know I followed her.

  He peered at Luke’s house.

  How long has Noura been in there? he wondered. Only ten minutes, I think. It f
eels like an hour.

  He sighed, scratched his head and arms, and then his legs. The werewolf itch was getting worse.

  Just ignore it, he thought. Concentrate on Luke’s house. There was a yellow car parked out the front.

  It’s almost as if I know that car, thought Alfie.

  He looked up. The full moon was now clearly visible above the houses as a beautiful, white disc. It seemed to be smiling at him.

  Alfie growled softly. He felt the cold moonlight on his skin. Hair started growing on his hands.

  ‘Wrow, I’m changing already. Noura must be starting to change too.’

  Now the hair started growing on his cheeks as well. His shoes started pinching. Alfie jumped up in a panic and kicked them off.

  I’ll look for them tomorrow, he thought. Noura has to get away from there. Come out of that house, Noura. Now!

  Nothing happened.

  Now! he thought again.

  Then the front door of Luke’s house opened.

  Phew, thought Alfie. Noura’s leaving just in time. She must have noticed.

  He stared at the doorway, expecting Noura to emerge at any moment.

  Too bad for stupid Luke, thought Alfie. We’re off to have fun in Werewolf Wood.

  But Noura still didn’t emerge.

  ‘What’s keeping her?’

  He peered over the bin until finally someone came out. And then someone else. Shrill voices sang a horrible song.

  ‘Rub, rub, rub away,

  Rub the last one out …’

  29

  Rubbedy, Rubbedy