Hidden (Marchwood Vampire Series #1) (15 page)

He knew he was
a good person, a caring brother and a loyal friend. But what else?
Did there need to be anything else? Would there be a day of
reckoning when he would have to account for himself? And if so,
what would he say? Umm, I am good. People seem to like me. I am an
amusing companion. This was not a long or inspiring litany. He
would have to do better.

He would
endeavour to make more of a mark on this world. What was it his
father always said? ‘Opportunity is a duty’. Well, he would start
to live by this saying. He was resolved.

As the sun
began to set, the two men reached the outskirts of the village
where the old woman lived.

Together they
entered the settlement, an eerie place at this time of day. Birds
screeched their evening song and the warm wind gave a low groan as
it swept through the valley, picking up dust and leaves in small
spinning vortexes and depositing them randomly on its way.

It was quiet.
The time for meals to be prepared and for people to relax after a
hard day’s work. Piebald goats bleated and a small fluffy dog
yapped around their horses’ hooves. The noise brought a few village
children scampering out of their houses.

‘
A piastre to the child who can point me to the house of the
village leader!’ Isik called across to them in his native
language.

They all
shouted and pointed at once to the larger of two square houses,
which sat in the shade of the hillside. The children jostled each
other, falling over themselves to reach the men. Alexandre laughed
and showered a sprinkling of coins and sweets at their feet.

Isik gave his
chestnut stallion a squeeze with his calves and the horse broke
from a walk to a steady canter. Alexandre followed suit on his grey
mare and they headed towards the imposing residence.

Alexandre had
not expected to find such a wealthy-looking settlement. He had
pictured a dusty, shabby place with spare accommodation and poorly
dressed inhabitants.

When they
reached the house, they dismounted and led their horses to a stone
trough of water, tethering them to a couple of wooden posts. Whilst
they did this, the front door to the house opened and a servant
politely enquired as to their business.

‘
Greetings to you,’ Isik said. ‘I am
Agha
Isik Kaya and this is Monsieur
Chevalier, from France. He is here as a guest of our government. We
are passing through and come seeking food and shelter for the
night.’

The servant
nodded and went back into the house. Five minutes later he
returned, following a richly dressed middle-aged gentleman.

‘
Greetings to you,’ The man said. ‘Do you understand English?
I am afraid I have no French.’

‘
Yes,’ Alexandre replied. ‘English is fine.’

‘
Good, good. Please, Monsieur Chevalier,
Agha
Kaya, won’t you come in? I am
Asil Sahin
Rais
and you are welcome to my hospitality. One of my servants
will see to your horses.’

Alexandre and
Isik followed their host inside. He showed them to a room where
they could wash and change and then the house servant came to take
them in to dinner.

Three pretty
children stood in the hallway, staring with unabashed curiosity.
The boys were handsome and the girl was as sweet as honey.

‘
I am Yusue Sahin,’ said the eldest boy. ‘This is my brother,
Yunue and my sister, Aysun.’ He held out his hand and Alexandre
shook it.

‘
My name is Alexandre Chevalier and this is Agha Kaya. I am
delighted to make your acquaintance, Master Sahin.’ The men both
shook each of their little hands in turn.

Where are your
weapons, Sirs?’ Yusue asked.

‘
We will show them to you later, if your father permits it,’
Alexandre replied, his eyes twinkling.

‘
Really?’ they asked in unison.

‘
Yes, really. We have muskets and pistols. And Agha Kaya also
has a shining scimitar and a good sharp knife.’

The children
nodded and looked impressed.

‘
Father has a sword and also many other weapons, but we are
not allowed to touch them, or we will turn into beetles,’ Yusue
said.

‘
Yes, you must heed your father,’ Alexandre replied. ‘You do
not wish to wake one morning and find you are scuttling about the
bed,’

They all began
to talk at once. Telling the men about their father and their
ponies and asking them about bandits and battles, until their loud
chatter brought their father into the hallway.

‘
What is all this noise? Our visitors will run away if you
continue to pester them like this. Quiet, all of you.’

‘
Father,’ Aysun said. ‘They do not mind.’

‘
I
mind. It is time to eat. Come.’ He
smiled across at his visitors and welcomed them into the dining
room.

Several people already sat cross-legged on plump cushions
around a low table draped with a richly patterned cloth. The three
children scrambled to their cushions while Asil
Rais
gestured to Alexandre and Isik
to sit near him.

‘
Allow me to make the introductions. Everybody, please welcome
our guests. This is Monsieur Alexandre Chevalier from France and
this is
Agha
Isik
Kaya.’ He turned to the men. ‘Allow me to introduce my Great
Grandmother, Havva Sahin.’

Alexandre
turned to see an old lady, small but regal-looking. She sat upright
and wore traditional local dress with a double headscarf, covering
her chin and forehead.

‘
Good evening
Bayan
Sahin.’ Isik said to her in Turkish. ‘And thank
you for your kind hospitality.’

She nodded
towards him with a smile.

‘
Good evening, Madame,’ Alexandre spoke in English, not
entirely sure of the etiquette involved. The last thing he wanted
to do was make a faux pas.

‘
My wife, Nuray,’ said Asil
Rais.
‘And my two eldest daughters,
Ayla and Aysel. And you have already met these three
troublemakers,’ he added, indicating Yusue, Yunue and
Aysun.

‘
You have a lovely family, Asil
Rais
. May I give you a small token
of thanks for your kindness in opening up your home to a
stranger?’

Alexandre put a parcel on the table, next to Asil
Rais
’ wife. She undid
the string and folded back the paper. Inside was a large bag of
dried mulberries and some freshly made baklava - the delicious
local sweetmeats made with honey and pistachios.

Nuray spoke
quietly in Turkish and bowed her head in Alexandre’s direction to
show her appreciation.

A servant carried in a large platter of
mezze
and placed it in the centre of
the table along with a plate of warm pitta bread.

‘
Bon appetite,’ Asil
Rais
said, raising his glass.

Alexandre
wondered how to steer the conversation towards the local legends
and underground caves. They had to find out where the old woman
lived; the one who knew the ancient folklore of the region. He
cleared his throat, ready to speak, but before he had uttered a
word, the grandmother, Havva Sahin, addressed Alexandre
directly.

‘
I know why you are here,’ she said. ‘Do not ask me your
questions, for it will be your greatest misfortune that I will
answer every one of them.’

Chapter
Nine

*

The party was
in full flow and Madison stood, squashed in the corner of the
lounge, chatting loudly to some school friends. Through the haze of
faces, she saw the features of someone who most definitely did not
belong there. A middle-aged man wearing an open-necked checked
shirt and brown corduroy trousers and he was heading her way. He
looked mildly familiar and she trawled the fuzzy recesses of her
brain to try and place him.

It was Morris,
the caretaker.

‘
This going to be going on all night is it?’ he
asked.

‘
Yeah, probably.’

‘
Right. Just checking. I’ll leave you to it then.’ He turned
around and walked out.

‘
Miserable old fart,’ she said to Lois and Keisha after he’d
gone. ‘Nothing to do with him is it. Not
his
house. You seen Ben
anywhere?’

‘
No, but I have seen a lot of really fit locals,’ Lois
giggled.

‘
Me too,’ agreed Keisha. ‘But first I want to dance. Come on,
you two, come and dance with me.’

‘
In a minute,’ said Maddy. ‘Just going to find Ben
first.

The air
shimmered and sang with the heat of midsummer and by now there must
have been several hundred people on the front lawn, with cars still
arriving, pulling up wherever there was a space. Clusters of local
kids ambled up the driveway with carrier bags of drink and the
music thumped and pounded in the still night air and through the
solid earth.

Every room on
the ground floor was rammed with sweaty people. Talking, smoking,
drinking, kissing, playing pool, throwing darts. Outside in the
ornamental garden, people splashed in the shallow water features
and Maddy heard laughter and screams from the maze.

She hadn’t
spotted Ben yet so she made her way back inside and negotiated her
way past strangers sprawled across the staircase. She tried the
handle to her bedroom door ... Good, still locked. She walked down
the landing to Ben’s room and tried his handle. Locked too.

‘
Ben!’ she shouted through the door. ‘You in there, Ben? It’s
Maddy!’ She waited a moment, then heard the sound of a key turning.
The door opened. ‘Ben, what are you doing hiding away in
here?’

‘
I’m not hiding. I’m just watching everyone out of my window.
Do you think the deer mind the noise? Do you think it’s freaking
them out?’

‘
I’m sure they’ll be okay. Why don’t you come downstairs? Come
and enjoy the party?’

‘
Mmm …’ He looked doubtfully at her. ‘I’m fine up
here.’

‘
Come on, Ben.’ Maddy pulled him by the hand and dragged him
out onto the landing, just pausing long enough to let him lock his
bedroom door. They went back downstairs into the kitchen and Ben
stuffed a few crisps into his mouth. She got him a glass of
lemonade and they went out front where Travis was still working his
magic on the crowd.

‘
Good DJ, Mads,’ Ben said. ‘This track is banging.’ They sat
for a while, cross-legged together on the grass. ‘Oh gross! Look at
Lois.’ Ben pointed to the open lounge window and through it they
saw Lois inside, snogging one of Travis’ friends.

Maddy laughed
and covered Ben’s eyes. ‘Just gonna have a little wander, shortie.
You coming?’

‘
No, I’ll sit here for a bit. Can you get me some more crisps
when you come back?’

‘
What did your last slave die of? Yeah, okay. See you in a
bit, bro.’

In the
kitchen, Maddy bumped into some friends from Collingstone. They
told her she was a lucky cow and it was a wicked party and she
should have one every month. That it was such a cool venue, much
better than the London clubs. She chatted to them for a while and
caught up on all the school gossip. But she felt detached from
them, like she didn’t belong to that world anymore and found she
didn’t mind at all.

She realised
her party wasn’t at all what she had imagined it would be. She had
thought it would be a typical good night out, a bit of a laugh. But
this was different. This was her house and she was responsible for
everything in it, including Ben. She found she couldn’t relax at
all. Even after a drink, she felt the complete opposite of relaxed.
Totally wired, on heightened alert, disconnected from everyone
around her. She felt different.

Maddy excused
herself from her mates and decided to have a quick look round, to
check on everything else. She saw Lois, still snogging her fit
bloke. They lay on the green velvet sofa in the lounge, oblivious
to everyone else in the room. She did a quick reccy of the other
ground floor rooms, all heaving with people, all of them
strangers.

She entered
the library, the most chilled out room so far, with just a few
people sitting around chatting – no one she knew though. As she
turned to leave the room, she heard the splintering of glass from
behind the far door on the other side of the room. Everybody jumped
and swivelled their heads towards the source of the noise, but
nobody got up. Nobody was really bothered.

Madison
threaded her way through the seated partygoers to the door which
led into the orangery. When she got there, she was horrified to see
a whole section of glass wall missing and two lads on the ground,
beating the crap out of each other. They were rolling over bits of
broken glass and smashed plant pots, black earth and ripped
leaves. 

A tall blonde
girl in a short red dress screamed uselessly at them, calling out
for them to stop. Tears rolled down her face and Madison could tell
she’d been the cause of the fight.

Maddy looked
around for help, but nobody looked like they wanted to get
involved. Worry morphed into anger. A coiled hose hung from a hook
on the back wall. She heaved it up and held the nozzle, letting the
rest of the hose unravel onto the floor. Turning on the nearby tap,
she pointed the nozzle at the scrappers and waited as the water
made its long journey to freedom.