by Paul Magrs
‘What? Who says I’m no longer really me? How do you make that out?’
‘You’re not the Effie I know.’
‘But I am! I am! That’s exactly who I am. I’m the new improved Effie. My priorities have shifted a little, that’s all. But really, I’m happier like this. I really am.’
I was up against the door again. Listening hard for signs that she was going to relent and liberate me. Her voice was strained and weirdly distant. I think she must have put some heavy furniture in front of the door. That was what all the scraping and banging was about.
Damn Cleavis. Turning friend against friend. That’s what dodgy old men and demon-hunters do.
‘What about your victims, eh?’ Brenda burst out. ‘I can’t believe that’s what you’re out doing every night, Effie. Attacking young men. Killing them.’
I sighed heavily. ‘I’ve killed no one.’
‘You have!’
‘I’ve rendered a few of them undead. It’s not the same thing. And I always ask which way they want to go. Whether they want the full conversion, or just to donate a little blood. You’d be surprised how many young people these days want to go the whole hog and become Walkers. Most of them are flattered to be picked out by me. Really. You’d be surprised . . .’
‘That’s disgusting! Have you heard yourself? You’ve created a colony . . . a hive . . . a nest of vampires here . . .’
‘Most of that was Kristoff ’s work. But really, the vamp population has been depleted for years in Whitby. We’ve merely been restoring the balance. This town was always a haven for our kind.’
‘Oh, Effie.’ Her voice was filled with sadness. ‘He is going to put a stop to you, you know.’ Her voice was so urgent, so small.
‘I guessed that.’ My heart started pounding. But I already knew, didn’t I? I already knew that Cleavis was merciless. Once I was within his power, I was lost. ‘You have to get me out of here. If you ever thought anything of me . . .’
She was silent for a moment.
I could hear her overheated mind seething with worry.
Then: ‘I’ll help you.’
Yes! Good old Brenda.
‘Thank you, ducky! Now—’
‘On the condition that . . . that you get away. Leave Whitby altogether while Henry is here. I’ll say that you overpowered me and escaped. And . . . and I want you to go away somewhere, and use all your powers . . . to reverse this hideous thing that has happened to you.’
‘That’s impossible. There is no cure. You know that.’
‘You’re a witch, Effie. From a long line of witches. You have more magic under your command than anyone knows about. More than you’ve ever admitted to. You just haven’t learned to control it properly yet. All I’m saying is . . . go away for a while. Maybe abroad, like you were going to go with Alucard. Do something about your condition. Learn to control it. Deny your compulsions. Forget about drinking blood and—’
‘Dear Brenda. You don’t know anything about it. You don’t know what it’s like. You can’t do, can you? These feelings, these compulsions as you call them. They are pure animal instinct. They come with colossal force. They’re like . . . a dark undertow. Dragging me under. Down into my animal nature. Of course, you would never understand that. You have no nature. No spirit. No instincts.’
Her voice turned low and dangerous. I had annoyed her.
‘We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. If I let you out, I’m taking a massive chance. I’m trusting you, for the sake of our friendship. If I let you out now, you must go. You’ve got to leave Whitby.’
‘For ever?’ I got a jolt of real feeling then. Something akin to panic. ‘But this is my home.’
‘I don’t know for how long. You just have to get away.’
I could see that I had no choice.
But where? Where could I possibly go? And on New Year’s Eve as well . . .
‘All right,’ I promised her.
I heard her start to move the heavy furniture away from the door. Grunting, straining and clumsy with sadness, Brenda laboured at setting me free.
And as she did so, I realised exactly where it was that I wanted to run away to.
The idea flared up inside me.
I started to shake with excitement, forgetting my fatigue and my fury.
I had an idea. A plan. An audacious scheme.
But could I make it work?
I had to.
The en suite door creaked open, and there stood Brenda. She looked unkempt and scared.
She eyed me warily. I couldn’t bear it.
We fell into each other’s arms for a goodbye hug. Neither of us had the heart to wish the other a Happy New Year.
Robert
Lately he’d been spending a lot of time hanging around The Spooky Finger. After a while he got used to the funny incense and the weird smoke. All that weirdo chanting music that Marjorie Staynes tended to play didn’t get to him any more.
‘Oh, you’re back again then,’ she would say, when he and Gila came in. They had to pass through the shop to get to Gila’s room. Well, he called it a room. It felt like more of a cupboard to Robert.
Marjorie Staynes looked him up and down every time. Clearly unimpressed by what she saw. He didn’t think much of her either, so that seemed fair enough.
‘Look, if you’d rather I didn’t come round, that’s okay. Gila can come up to the Miramar. I’d rather that anyway.’
‘No! It’s fine. Fine. I don’t mind. And I don’t want him away from the shop. There’s too much to do. Lots of work here. The Spooky Finger’s only been in business a few weeks. I need all hands to the decks. And this is a crucial time. Yes, a crucial time.’
He actually started to think that Marjorie Staynes was crackers.
He and Gila listened in to those meetings she held down in the shop. Twice a week now, her book group was. Robert knew all about her little cult. The cult of Qab. He sat on the top stairs landing round her place, on the gritty carpet. Amongst the boxes of books still waiting to be unpacked.
Gila would simply shrug. He had heard all of it before.The chanting. The strange philosophical stuff. He’d even seen Marjorie dressing up her cultists in those golden outfits before. The robes of the sisterhood. Their helmets with plumey wings. He took the outfits downstairs and helped the ladies into them, and Robert listened from above to their shuffling about and giggling with excitement.
The cult of Qab. Really!
Penny told him that it was all deadly serious.
‘Oh, yeah. You can see it in Marjorie’s eyes. She’s full of it. Believes every word. Qab is for real, as far as she’s concerned.’
And Gila too, as it happened. Robert had asked him about it. Time and time again. All right, so he knew Gila was not just a normal fella. He was obviously not from round there – or even anywhere else on this earth. But . . . something inside him was shying away from the way Gila would say it so blandly.
‘Qab exists, Robert. It’s real. And I know that because it’s where I was born. Marjorie brought me here, to this land. I travelled here with her. I am her servant. All females have servants in Qab.’
Poor lad. Robert set about trying to get him away from Marjorie. She was no good for him. Crazy old bag like that. But it was hard.
Robert had started to think that he must really feel something for Gila. So quickly. All over again. Here he went: falling for another young bloke. Just because he was a bit mysterious and not from round there.
Brenda and Cleavis weren’t sure at all about Gila. Robert had taken him round Brenda’s on Christmas night when she had her soirée. They treated him with kid gloves. Brenda was friendly, of course. She’d always be nice to someone new, who Robert cared about. But she was wary.
Gila choked a bit on the snowball she gave him. Mixed very strong, this noxious yellow drink. He was a bit bewildered by the whole Christmas thing. He felt embarrassed because he hadn’t brought anyone any presents. No one minded, though.
&n
bsp; Robert was proud of him. Taking him to Brenda’s. Leaving together when the evening was over. This man he’d hardly known for very long at all.
These were strange times. It felt like loyalties were shifting. Everything was turning on its head. How weird to be round Brenda’s and there was no sign of Effie.
In recent days Robert hadn’t been able to have a good chat with Brenda. There had been no chance. Cleavis was there all the time. Robert wanted to ask about the things Effie had said the other night when they sat at his bar. He didn’t know how much to believe. His head was still reeling with it all. The very fact that Cleavis had staked Alucard.
He wondered if it wasn’t actually a good thing in the end. And he recognised, of course, that Effie was not right in herself somehow. She was like proper possessed, wasn’t she? You could see that, with the way she was looking and moving about. She wasn’t just posesssed, he thought: she was a proper vamp.
Everything was changing, turning on its head.
Maybe the old gang was finished. Maybe Effie had gone beyond the pale.
He was upstairs with Gila, who had brought them a tray of tea things. This funny herbal tea Gila liked.
They sat on the edge of the bed together. Robert told Gila he had to go soon. Work was calling out to him. He had been letting things slide. He had been relying too heavily on Penny to fill in for him.
‘I too have work tonight,’ said Gila. ‘Extra duties. Marjorie has just told me. She wants my help with a special ritual this evening.’
Robert’s ears pricked up at this, of course. ‘Black magic?’
‘Qab magic,’ said Gila. ‘I think I know what she’s doing. She says Effie’s coming round tonight, alone. She’s going to try one of the advanced rituals.’
Immediately Robert was thinking it had something to do with bringing Alucard back from the dead. ‘Effie should watch out for messing about with rituals and that. I’ve seen her possessed before. She’s very susceptible.’ He was wondering whether he should tell Brenda. Get her to nip in quick.
‘Marjorie has done this before. When we were in Kendal, she had a few members who went this far. It’s nothing really bad, Robert. Not really.’
He had such an earnest, sweet face. He was looking at Robert like he really wanted him to understand. But Gila couldn’t tell him everything. Not yet.
‘Just give me a clue or something,’ Robert said. ‘About what it is they’re up to.’
Gila bit his pale lower lip. ‘All right. Marjorie has a gateway into Qab. Obviously. It’s how she brought me here. It’s how she goes back and forth. It takes rituals to get it open again. It takes concentration and so on. The gateway hides away in secret until it is needed.’
His cool fingers were stroking Robert’s hands. It was something he often did, without even thinking about it. He was very tactile. At first Robert shrank from that constant touch, not being used to it. He guessed Gila thought he was uptight. Now Robert was used to him pressing and punctuating his words with these little touches.
‘She has sent people through, before. Back in Kendal. Some of the women elected to move to Qab. And off they went. But there was trouble. Husbands complained. Policemen were called. There was fuss. It was a disaster. It was hushed up. Marjorie had to move away.’
‘She sent people there?’
‘Only those who clearly wanted to go. Some of them begged her.’
‘Oh my God! You think Effie has asked her? Effie wants to go there?’
Gila looked at him and nodded slowly.
‘We have to stop her!’
‘No!’ Gila said urgently. ‘We can’t. We can’t interfere.’
‘Huh?’
‘I can’t go against Marjorie, if that’s what she wants to do. She’s my mistress. I am bonded. I must obey . . .’
Gila had let go of Robert’s hands. Robert stared at him. ‘But you’ve got a mind of your own!’
‘In this matter, I have not. I cannot work against the ways of Qab. I cannot work against the sisterhood.’ He stood up. ‘Now. You had better leave.’
‘So what does he mean by a gateway?’ Robert asked Penny, about half an hour later. They were in his office below stairs at the Miramar.
‘I think I know,’ she said.
‘It must be like when we went down to hell, to the other version of Whitby. Like the Bitch’s Maw. Like a . . . what does Brenda call it? A rip in the Very Fabric of Time and Space.’
‘Does she really call it that?’
‘I’m sure I’ve heard her say it. Remember when the gateway opened at the abbey that night, when they were filming Get Thee Inside Me, Satan?’
She tutted. ‘How could I forget? Me and you, shoving all the cameras and equipment and scripts through, out of harm’s way. And then Karla dancing into the maelstrom . . .’
‘Hmmm.’ They were having KitKats and tea, just as they always did when holding a meeting about urgent hotel business together. Penny had a habit of dunking her chocolate fingers in her hot tea and sucking them till there was just soggy wafer left.
‘We can’t let Effie go,’ Robert said resolutely. ‘We just can’t.’
‘Of course not.’ Penny nodded firmly. ‘But if she’s determined, can we stop her? And really, it’s a bit dangerous for her here, isn’t it, with Henry Cleavis and all.’
‘But she can’t go swanning off to . . . some other dimension. We can’t let her. I’ve already watched my Auntie Jessie and Sheila Manchu get lost in another world, in a different dimension sort of thing. I’m not prepared to see it happen to Effie as well. And besides, we don’t know anything about this Qab place, do we?’
Penny shrugged. ‘I do. I’ve read the books. I’ve been at the meetings. I know quite a bit.’
Of course! he thought glumly. Penny was one of the cult, wasn’t she? Incognito. Gathering info. ‘So . . . you could get in there tonight. For Marjorie’s ritual. You could be there as a legitimate part of the endeavour.’
‘I guess so . . .’ She looked a bit wary then. Up till that moment it had been a bit of a laugh. Robert remembered this kind of hesitation of Penny’s from their adventure up at the abbey on Hallowe’en. That was when the strange activities of Karla Sorenson opened up the gateway into hell. Penny seemed willing to go only so far and then she would start to lose her nerve. She caught his eye and saw the challenge there. ‘Yes, you’re right. I can get in there. I can be right on the spot. What do you want me to do? Stop Effie from going?’
‘If you can, I suppose.’ Now he felt at a bit of a loss. On an impulse he picked up the phone and rang Brenda.
‘You’ve seen her?’ Brenda burst out. ‘Where? Where is she?’ She sounded very anxious. ‘I told the silly old fool to get away. Get out of town. On New Year’s Eve, this was! She’s meant to be away by now. I told her she should take a break in Scotland or somewhere.’
‘She certainly seems to be making plans to leave,’ Robert told her. Then he filled her in on what he’d learned from Gila.
Brenda gave an audible gasp on the crackly line. ‘But that’s ridiculous! So that Marjorie Staynes woman has really got Effie believing in this place? Just like it is in the books?’
‘I think it’s all true,’ he told her. ‘Some of the things Gila has told me.’
‘You’re very lucky to have that lad of yours,’ Brenda said decisively. Her words were a bit muffled at this point. He could imagine her struggling to put on her heavy coat as she talked to him. She was ready to dash out of the house at once. ‘I’m on my way. What time is this so-called ritual meant to start?’
‘Midnight.’ That was what Gila had told him.
‘Another late night,’ Brenda sighed. ‘Well, I can slip out without Henry seeing. He’s off about his work tonight.’
As she said this, Robert was wondering what kind of work this could be. A shiver passed through him.
‘I’m on my way,’ said Brenda. ‘First I’m going to Effie’s house. See if she’s still there. Maybe she’s packing. Can you take lugga
ge through this portal thing?’
‘I don’t know.’ It seemed absurd, him and her talking like this. Would Effie need a passport for this other dimension thing? Was she planning on ever coming back? Neither of them voiced any of these things, but they both had an idea of what the other was thinking.
‘I blame myself for all of this,’ Brenda sighed. ‘Effie having to go on the run. I should never have listened to Henry. He scared me the other night, with all his threats and stuff. When he had her prisoner, tied to that chair, I was really and truly—’
‘He had her tied to a chair?’ Robert couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
‘I’ll tell you the whole story later,’ she said. ‘But suffice to say, I’ve seen a different side to Henry Cleavis. The ruthless hunter came out in full force, and it gave me pause for thought.’
Then Brenda was gone and he put back the receiver. Well, he had always known what Henry was like. And so did Brenda, if she was honest with herself. Henry was a force of nature. He assumed always that he was on the side of the angels. He felt himself completely justified in using whatever means he could to rid the world of monsters.
‘She’s got herself all worked up,’ Robert told Penny.
‘Well, she would!’
‘She’s off looking for Effie. She reckons she told Effie she better get out of town for a bit. But not like this. Not through whatever awful thing Marjorie Staynes is planning. She just meant get on the train. Go to Scotland for a long break or something.’
‘Effie always seems to overreact,’ Penny mused.
‘Come on then, lady,’ said Robert. ‘What time is it now? It’s getting late. I’d better check everything’s all right upstairs. And then—’
The phone rang suddenly, shrilly. His private line.
‘Darling Robert,’ came a sickly-sweet voice, curdling in his ear.
He covered the mouthpiece, telling Penny, ‘It’s Mrs Claus.’
‘Robert? Are you there? Are you listening? Listen, dearest. This is most important. You and I have had our . . . difficulties in the past. We have had our differences. But I think we must put these aside for the moment.’