Sophie Morgan (Book 1): Relative Strangers (A Modern Vampire Story)

by Treharne, Helen

  I’d checked out the airlines and knew that they’d have to find a couple of hundred pounds each to cover the flight and luggage. "Will you go straight back to Ireland?" I ventured.

  "May as well, if we just move on somewhere else, we’ll be in no better a position, just looking for more work and probably having to pay for somewhere to live as well."

  "Makes sense."

  "To be honest, I’d just like to get home now, see my family. By my reckoning, this whole business isn’t just happening here. If there are vamps here, they’re probably everywhere and I want to make sure that my folks are okay. I’d like to see Sean settled, kept safe."

  I understood completely, I’d been thinking exactly the same thing, particularly given my recent visit back to Bethesda. It didn’t seem right to have this knowledge and not do anything with it, to not try and protect the ones you love, to at the very least be close to them. I felt so isolated and alone, so very vulnerable. Nothing I had was of any value anymore. I felt in some ways as if I could face anything, but also like I had nothing. The landscape of my world had shifted in one night.

  I told him that I was considering moving back home as well, that I’d need to give it some thought and make a plan, find a new job, and perhaps see if I could get a transfer to work to another office, perhaps Bristol or Cardiff. A commute wasn't ideal though, and the prospect of trying to carry on with the remnants of my life and career did seem rather empty. Perhaps I should just call it a day, go do the family business thing, it will happen eventually, what could be wrong with it? Maybe it's time. The world is telling you to go home, to go where you belong.

  "Sounds good Sophie," he sounded sincere. "I don’t like the idea of you being there on your own. Besides, it sounds nice where you’re from. Perhaps I’ll come and visit when things settle down."

  Warmth spread across my chest and I was relieved. It would be good to see him again, spend time with one of the few people who could understand how I felt, what I’d been through, what we’d seen.

  "That would be brilliant," I blurted out a bit too enthusiastically." I mean, it would be nice to see you, and Sean, of course, if he’d like to come as well."

  "That’s kind, but I was hoping that it could just be the two of us?"

  "Of course, that’s great too."

  There was a long pause.

  "So no news then?" I asked," Nothing in the paper? No vamps come calling at the pub? No police?"

  Mickey told me that things were weird, but only because everything was so normal. He’d been reading the papers and watching the news every day, which I knew from his texts and emails, but he hadn't noted anything of significance. He’d half expected the police to turn up to ask them about an incident involving a firearm or an assault on a patron, but nothing at all. During the day, he'd even taken to walking down the square, our crime scene, and seeing if anything triggered any concerns.

  “I don't think you should be going looking for trouble Mickey."

  "I know, I know," he replied. "I’m just trying to make sense of all this. It just all stinks, that’s all. I'm on tender hooks all the time. I've probably taken twenty years off my life with all this stress. I can't sleep, can't eat. Sean keeps asking me if I'm having a breakdown."

  "I know. Every time I meet someone new, I wonder if they’re really a vamp, or if they know about them. I wonder if they've ever been bitten by a vampire or what they would say if I told them that I had. It's difficult. I meet strangers all the time in my job and I can't even listen to what they're telling me. Tonight a waiter tried to squeeze past me to get to the next table and I flinched so badly Tracy thought I was having a fit. I was so scared about him being so close to me that I virtually hauled him over the table and glassed him."

  "You didn’t though?" Mickey inquired, sounding worried.

  "No, but it wanted to, instinct I guess. He only wanted to get through with his hostess trolley, but as soon as I felt him, pressing into me, I felt like I was going to be sick. It was like the walls were caving in on me and I couldn’t breathe. It was horrible."

  "I understand. I’m on high alert all the time. I’ve not had more than few hours’ sleep a night for days. Every time I hear a noise outside, I’m downstairs checking the door is bolted. I refused to serve a guy last night as he was a bit too rowdy with a girl at the bar, I didn’t like the way he looked at her so I threw him out. Sean says I need to sort my nerves out."

  "But Maggie is perfectly normal about it all?"

  "On the face of things, yeah. Maybe it’s her way of coping, I don’t know. If it’s working for her, great, but when I took her up the papers this morning, I saw that she’s been keeping the gun by her bed."

  I hoped that he’d be out of there soon. There were no assurances that vampires weren’t anywhere else, and although logic told me that it was quite likely that they were, I’d still have felt safer if he were somewhere else, somewhere vamps wouldn’t recognise him and where they wouldn’t know what we’d done. Somewhere he could try to live some semblance of normal life.

  We didn’t talk for much longer as Mickey had to get back down to the bar to work and there was nothing to be gained from rehashing our various theories about vamps. We didn’t have any new information to go on and had no more than a handful of deductions and suppositions. I’d have loved to have stayed on the line, chit chatting about everyday things and gossip, but the truth was that there was little to tell him that I hadn't already messaged him about. There was only so much talking about my visit to my Mum’s I could do. It was so much easier when we were together in person, when we could sit quite comfortably in each other's company in complete and reassuring silence.

  When I finally hung up, I felt very alone. Charlie was scratching at the bedroom door to be let out and unusually I let him wait for a few minutes. I was relieved that Mickey was actively planning to leave Antwerp, relieved that everybody was okay and that nobody was hurt or had been arrested. But at the same time, it all seemed too neat and that bothered me more than I liked.

  CHAPTER 14

  Life carried on as normal for the next few weeks, or at least as my new definition of normal. I went to work each day and went about my business with just enough enthusiasm to get the job done and not to get sacked. I smiled at everyone and made polite conversation with my neighbours.

  Mickey and I emailed each other daily, supplementing our communications with intermittent text messages. As things seemed to settle down, they took a more relaxed tone and we increasingly sent each other jokes or amusing pictures. Although it wasn’t like recent events hadn't happened, or that we had got passed them, it was as if we had accepted it and had found our own way to move on. Perhaps it was post-traumatic stress. Is that what it’s like?

  I spent most evenings curled up on the sofa with Charlie, watching whatever supernatural television programme or film I could find, or trawling the internet for information on vampires and crime in Antwerp. There wasn’t much of any substance in the English language editions of the Belgian papers. I did learn about a couple of new chip shops that had opened and a new art installation that was launching soon. In the unlikely event I’d ever visit again, it was good to know of a few new places to check out. I made a mental note to ask Mickey about them in the meantime; he would benefit from a distraction.

  It was easier to find news and information about Brussels, which I suspected would be more likely to attract vampires, being bigger. Like any great European city, there seemed to be a scattering of criminal activity, but nothing that resembled a pattern.

  Being proactive in my vampire research helped me from going insane, and staying at home as much as possible kept me alive. If I didn’t have to meet any new people, or put myself in any vulnerable situations, I’d be okay.

  Although I had to sit and listen to an ever growing pool of job seekers at work, I switched off, feigned interest and did just enough to do my job competently. I sat through every team meeting or business event, nodding at the right time and makin
g the right noises at appropriate intervals. It all seemed so totally meaningless when compared to the reality of what was going on in the world. I was doing a sterling job of faking my way through my own life.

  The combination of being proactive and a lack of further vampire activity in my vicinity, improved my sleeping patterns, and eventually my regular routine was reinstated. Surprisingly, I slept right through without disturbance most nights.

  With the difference in our working hours, Mickey would sometimes get in touch during the early hours and I’d often wake up to a text or photograph that he’d sent during the night. He was increasingly eloquent in his emails and would describe in detail all the activities of the day, where he’d been or who had come into the bar. He told me more about his hometown, his family, and even shared a little of their news. In many ways, I felt like I knew them and I thought it would be nice to visit there someday. Our daily exchanges became more like this, and less about vampires, conspiracies and paranoia, as the weeks passed. Sometimes, it might only consist of forwarding on a joke via a text message, or emailing a link to a funny video from the internet, but every day there was something.

  Then suddenly, out of nowhere, his communications just stopped. It didn’t take me long to realise that something was wrong. I let the first few days without a reply pass without comment or action. After all, I couldn’t expect to be top of his priorities all the time. Perhaps now everything had died down, he’d lost interest in me. I couldn’t stand the thought that something had happened to him, but I was certain that Sean would have found a way to get in touch and tell me, unless Mickey had kept our continued friendship a secret of course.

  I scoured the internet for news on O’Malley’s and to see if anything untoward had happened. It was foolish really; I should have just picked up the phone and called him. I’m older and wiser now and probably would. But given my track record with men, I felt too nervous. I didn’t want to hear him say that he’d just got bored of me, or that it was all too much stress and he wanted to put it all behind him, me forming too much of the bad memory.

  Tracy could tell that something was up. When I explained I hadn’t heard from Mickey, she told me to just forget about it; after all it really couldn’t go anywhere. Her words made me feel sick and I pushed them far to the back of mind. I didn’t dare talk about it to my Mum to get her perspective on it; I knew that it would be anything but impartial. Besides which, I wouldn’t be able to confide in her without bursting out the rest of it as well.

  For the next week, I kept my phone on charge constantly so I’d always be ready should he decide to call. I even called my service provider to make sure there was nothing wrong with the line and periodically checked the spam filters on my email in case I had accidentally changed the settings. Eventually, I decided that I was acting like a crazy woman and should just pick up the phone and call him. Mickey’s mobile number went straight to voicemail, which did nothing to ease my anxiety. I considered telephoning O’Malley’s, but didn’t want to sound desperate.

  I’d need to try another tactic first. I decided that a light-hearted email might be the best tactic initially. After two attempts, I came up with a final draft:

  ‘Hi Mickey,

  Hope you are okay; it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. Things are well here, I’m thinking of spending the weekend in Bethel, but I’ll have my phone with me. I’ve not been up to much lately – just work, work, and work – no vampire sightings which is good. How’s the saving for a flight home coming along? Drop me a text when you’ve got a minute to let me know you’re okay. Say hello to Maggie and Sean for me.

  Sophie’

  I waited by my laptop in case anything came straight back. It was 6pm, so there was a chance I’d catch him before his evening shift, but it was a small window of opportunity. After five minutes I gave up, got changed out of my work clothes and slipped on some pyjamas and a sweatshirt; I wasn’t planning on going anywhere and didn’t care what I looked like. Plugging my mobile phone into the charger, I did a quick check that the email function was still set up properly, and waited to see if I got a response.

  Four hours, fifteen quick checks of my inbox and six mugs of tea later, I still hadn’t heard anything. The ‘softly- softly’ approach wasn’t working. Just when I was about to give up and go to bed, I had a brainwave - Mickey was bound to have an account with one of the social networking sites, but which one? Tapping away at the keys, I typed in YEARBOOK and hoped for the best. It was the only site I was registered to, although I rarely went on it, and seemed to be the one that everyone I knew used. It was as good a starting place as any.

  I typed in the name Michael Kelly, nothing. Then I tried Mickey Kelly, nothing. Finally, Mike Kelly, but again, nothing. Okay, Sophie, think outside the box.

  I typed in the name Sean Kelly and hoped for the best. I got more than forty hits, with various spellings of the name Sean. Fortunately, almost all had profile photos and as I scanned down the list, I got lucky. I found what I was looking for at number sixteen. Although his face was painted green and he was wearing a giant Guinness hat in honour of Saint Patrick’s Day, I recognised him instantly. I also knew the background – it was O’Malley’s.

  Clicking on the photo took me straight to his profile page. In one way, I was relieved he hadn't been very restrictive with his settings, leaving everything open to public view. It at least gave me the opportunity to dig around for information. I gave very little away on mine, although I had little control about what Tracy did and I was keenly aware that she had decorated her profile pages with some pretty hideous photos of me in Antwerp. You could even see Mickey in the background of a few of them.

  Mickey wasn't listed on Sean's 'friends' page, although he did appear in many of the photos that had been uploaded. I clicked through the online albums. The most recent ones were from their travels and mostly in Antwerp. I recognised much of the scenery. The others seemed to be of friends and family events back in Ireland. Their hometown looked like a nice place.

  The photos of Mickey made my heart skip, they were reassuringly awkward. Like me, he didn't photograph well. Many were of him drunk, although his smile continued to appear warm and charming. I wished I’d put some decent photos up on the site now - at least Sean could show them to him, and it had to be better than that God awful picture Maggie had up behind the bar. Wishful thinking, Sophie, he probably doesn’t want to look at your mug at all. That’s why you are stalking him online like a crazy person. I’d never got so worked up about a guy like this before; perhaps I was projecting all my anxiety about the vamp situation onto him.

  Sadly, I didn’t find out as much as I would have liked from Sean’s profile page. He’d clearly been busy populating it with information when their travels first began, but it didn’t look like he had bothered much recently. I scrolled down the page to look at his activity in other areas of the site. He'd made a few comments here or there on friends’ pages or fan pages, but there seemed to be nothing from the previous couple of weeks. A few friends had posted on his page, or shared pictures, but he hadn't replied to a single one of them.

  "Okay, well, it’s not just Mickey, who seems to be ignoring the world," I sighed at Charlie, half relieved.

  Maybe they were both working all the hours they could to scrape enough money together to get back home, maybe that’s why Mickey wasn’t in touch with me either. Yes, that's what it will be. Don't overreact, everything will be fine. No need to jump to conclusions. He's just busy. But what if something has happened to him, to them both? Then Maggie would call you. Or it would be on the news. You'd see it on the internet; you spend enough time on there.

  It was against my nature to do nothing though, and it was against every instinct that a woman, quite possibly in love, has. Holding my breath, I clicked a button that sent a request to 'become friends' with Sean. Now all I had to do was sit back and wait for something to happen. But as time passed and I didn’t hear anything, worry gradually took over. What if someth
ing was wrong, what if something had happened to them both? I shrugged the thought from me. Don’t be ridiculous, you’d know by now. It’s over, all the drama is over.

  CHAPTER 15

  To most people, Richard Jones looked like he had it all, or close to it - tall, lean and in perfect shape. His short dark hair was precisely styled into place, his neat nails were buffed to a soft sheen and the dark blue Mercedes, parked outside his apartment, was perpetually clean. The bookshelves in the lounge of his apartment were populated with exactly the right types of books. The cool grey walls were adorned with expensive prints and photographs. The wood flooring was as pristine as the day it was laid. His clothes were always immaculate - the best labels, never faded, never a touch of lint. He may not have lived in a big city, but he had made the best of what he had. Most of his school year had gone on to work in the various car manufacturing plants dotted around Coventry and the surrounding area. Either that or they were grown men, chained to call centre desks. Yes, he'd done very well for himself indeed.

  He had money, a successful career as a self-employed stock broker and he didn't have to answer to anyone. He had no boss telling him what to do, no clock to punch into. He decided what he did and when. Most of his business was done over the telephone or the internet. The only person to dictate how he spent his time was him.

  No, he didn't have any partner in any sense of the word, nobody to consider but himself. Not that it bothered him. He had had relationships with women, even flirtations with men, but they had rapidly become mundane and he had quickly lost interest. Something was missing. He wanted excitement, to be surprised, to feel something new, for something unpredictable to happen. If he didn't do something about it soon, he'd probably kill himself. At least it would be a new experience. Then he'd met Rachel and everything had changed.