Monster (9 page)

‘Oh,’ I said, my heart skipping the smallest beat. I did like vulnerably lovable boys. ‘You’ve got asthma?’

‘Yeah. They changed my tablets, which made it worse, so they’re gonna put me on some different ones.’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘My brother has that, but he has inhalers.’

‘I used to have inhalers, but I’m allergic to steroids,’ he said. ‘These are preventers. No steroids. They really work too, I’ve had way fewer attacks this year.’

‘Oh right.’

He must have it really bad, I thought. I remembered when Seb had a bad attack at his school sports day and had to be taken to hospital. I’d never been so scared in my life, waiting for news. Until now, of course. Charlie put the ham next to the cheese by the till. I smiled at him, hoping somehow he’d translate what it meant into words.

‘Anything on your list?’

‘Um,’ I said, playing for time as I looked down at my
piece of paper—Frosties and Post-its. ‘I’ll have some Cola Cubes please. And toffees. About two pounds worth of each.’

‘Coming up.’ He smiled, walking round to the other counter where the sweet jars were. I continued to watch his forearms as he took down the Cola Cube jar and began weighing them out.

‘You don’t have
Con Air
on DVD by any chance, do you?’

He frowned as he crouched down to get the toffees from the bottom shelf behind the counter. ‘Not sure. Have a look on the rack.’

I picked my way through the DVDs, desperately trying to think of something else to say, something to ask him, but everything I could think of was a platitude. The weather. The shop. School. I wanted to ask him something about himself, something that would segue us into a conversation about going out or something, but I couldn’t think how to do it.

Amazingly, I found
Con Air
with a £3 sticker on the front. I put it in my basket.

‘So when do you go home for Christmas then?’ Charlie asked me.

‘Some of us are here till Boxing Day, others for the duration. My parents are in South America. I’m not sure when they’re coming.’

‘That sucks,’ he said, looking genuinely sad for me.

‘It’s okay.’ I shrugged.

‘How many of you are left?’

‘Six, not including Matron. Maggie’s there till the New Year I think.’

He nodded. ‘Cool.’

‘How come?’

He smiled, winding round my sweetie bag. ‘Just good to
know, that’s all.’ My hopes sank like a plank. I knew why he had asked about our Christmas plans. He was going to play a prank on Maggie, that was all. Nothing to do with my availability for a date or anything.

He looked around, seemingly checking for his dad who might be lurking to pounce on him if he wasn’t working hard enough, then he leaned forwards over the counter. ‘So, do you get any time out?’

‘Huh?’ I said, picking up a two pence piece that had dropped out of my purse.

‘Do you get allowed out anywhere?’

‘Um …’

‘I thought you and me could, I dunno, maybe go into town or something?’ His dad popped his head through the curtain. ‘Yeah?’ said Charlie.

‘I’m going upstairs to change, all right? There’s a delivery coming in a bit. Keep an ear out?’

‘Yeah.’ When his dad had gone, he seemed to relax a bit more. ‘So anyway, there’s a Christmas fair on over at Dyerston. Or we could go up the Gorge or something?’

Jackpot. My mouth was out-of-control smiley all of a sudden. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah.’

‘What, all of us?’

‘No.’ He smiled, ‘I thought just you, maybe.’

‘Um,’ I said, still smiling. ‘Well, yeah, I’m sure I could ask Matron. Though I don’t know about going into town. And I’d have to be back for Prep at six o’clock.’

‘That’s all right. We could hang out here, but there’s not much to do in the village really. There’s crazy golf up at the Gorge and some caves and shops and stuff. I think there’s
a petting zoo or something as well. It’ll be dead quiet now it’s winter.’

‘Will your dad let you off work though? You seem to be quite in demand here.’

‘Yeah, no worries. I’m due some time off. And anyway, it’s Christmas, right? Spirit of goodwill and all that. I’ll handle him, don’t worry.’

The
Gorge,
I thought, scrolling in my head through the number of times of Bathory girls had said they’d been taken ‘up the Gorge’ by some boy or another. It was
the
hot spot in Bathory for first dates, first kisses, first anythings with a boy. I felt so proud Charlie had asked me, I could have sprouted wings from both shoulders.

Before my mind could list all the other obstacles, problems and worries I just said, ‘Yes, I’d love to.’

He smiled back at me, brilliantly, and it was like the sun came out in my chest.

T
he shop bell tinkled and an old woman came in, wearing thick brown snow boots and dragging a shopping trolley behind her, its two wheels caked with mud. She had a waxed hat pulled down over her face, and her woollen coat was covered in white dog hairs.

‘Afternoon, Mrs Renfield,’ Charlie called out. Mrs Renfield grunted a greeting and went about her business. I was on tiptoes reaching for the Frosties when Charlie beckoned me back to the counter. ‘Got to keep an eye on her. Likes the odd five-finger discount.’ I could feel his breath on my ear.

I smiled at him and watched as Mrs Renfield made her way over to the bookshelves where Regan had picked up a thin pamphlet on Bathory folklore. No doubt she was looking
for information about the dreaded Beast. ‘For God’s sake,’ I muttered.

‘What’s up?’ said Charlie at the till, as he rang through some sweets for three local kids.

‘Regan and this Beast thing. She doesn’t shut up about it. It’s really annoying.’

‘The Beast of Bathory?’

‘Yeah. She’s obsessed with it.’

‘You seen it yet?’

I frowned. The kids had moved over to the magazines and were laughing at some pictures in one of the papers.

‘No, no one’s seen it, that’s the point. It doesn’t exist.’

‘It does, Nash,’ said Charlie. ‘There’s too many people round here who’ve seen it in action.’

Regan’s ears had pricked up. Now she scuttled over. ‘How do you mean, seen it in action?’

‘I mean, seen it tear apart their dogs, or had people they’ve known go missing.’ Dianna came over too, and passed him her full basket of Matron’s shopping. He totalled it up. ‘Thirty-five pounds seventy-two pence, please.’

She gave him Matron’s forty pounds and took the change. ‘Can I cancel the newspaper delivery for the school as well, please, while I’m here?’

I frowned. ‘Did Matron ask you to cancel it?’

She looked at me. ‘Yes. Is there a problem?’

‘No, not at all,’ I said.

Then it was back to the land of make-believe.

‘People have actually
seen
it kill things?’ said Regan, eyes wild.

‘Yeah. Old Mr Renfield has for a start, hasn’t he, Mrs R?’

‘Caw, has he?’ said the woman. ‘Bloody thing took enough sheep to put us out of the farm years back.’ The
old woman came waddling over to us. ‘Did all we could, but there was no stopping it. Came in the night it did. Always came in the night and always at this time of year.’ She parked her backside on a small wooden stool on the customers’ side of the counter.

‘It ate your sheep?’ said Dianna.

‘Some of ‘em,’ she replied. ‘Others it killed and left. Some had broken necks, some of ‘em ripped right down the front and hollowed out. You heard about that nice Mr Pellett from the Apothecary, didn’t you?’

We nodded.

‘I heard the screams. Farmers round here been moanin’ about the bloody thing for generations, but nothing gets done. Cos it’s not very often, you see. Only every now and again it’ll turn up. Took them two on the moors in the summer, and that walker last winter. Loads more gone missing. Visitors. Tourists. But you can set your watch by it coming at Christmas. He goes for the turkeys, cos there’s so many of ‘em about.’

‘Could it be a fox?’ Charlie suggested, putting the last of Dianna’s own goods, including shaving foam, in a carrier bag and asking her for the £26.48 she owed him.

‘A fox can’t bite a turkey in half, my love.’

‘It bit a turkey in half?’ said Dianna.

Mrs Renfield shook her head. ‘Not just one. Dozens. Don’t you get talkin’ to my old Henry about no foxes. My Henry saw that evil thing with his own two eyes not five winters past. Hasn’t slept a full night ever since.’

‘What did it look like?’ Regan persisted. ‘Was it black? Is it as big as they say? Did it have evil red eyes?’

‘Bigger. And blacker,’ said Mrs Renfield. ‘They say the eyes are as red as cherries.’

I had a bad taste in my mouth. She was wrong. I wanted to argue. Its eyes weren’t red; they were yellow. Golden yellow. Quite beautiful. But I said nothing.

‘It starts when you don’t hear the birds any more,’ Mrs Renfield continued. ‘Then there’ll be the footprints in the snow. Then they’ll go missing, one by one.’

I felt sick. ‘Oh my God.’ I held on to the counter and put my basket on top so Charlie could start ringing my and Maggie’s stuff through.

‘Who will go missing?’ asked Regan, in a state of near desperation by this point.

Charlie totted up Regan’s shopping, bagged it up and held it out for her, but she didn’t take it from him—too busy salivating over every detail. ‘Here you go.’

‘I’ve found things,’ she told the old woman. ‘Up at the school, in the woods. I think they’re signs the Beast is around.’

‘What sort of things you found then?’ the old woman croaked.

‘Severed limbs and animal entrails. I’ve found three now—a spine, a sheep’s carcass and some innards.’

Dianna frowned, changing her heavy-looking carrier bag between her hands. ‘What were you doing up in the Landscape Gardens, Regan? They’re out of bounds at the moment. You were there in Prayers when Mrs Saul-Hudson said.’

‘It is weird though,’ said Charlie. ‘We’ve had a couple of carcasses go missing from the bins out the back. Not just taken either, ripped from bin bags. Normally we’d blame badgers or something but …’

‘… but you think it could be the Beast?’ said Dianna.

Charlie shrugged. ‘It’s possible.’

‘Why would it take carcasses all the way from here up to Bathory Woods? It’s miles away,’ said Dianna. ‘Why not just eat them here? That doesn’t make any sense.’

‘Because his lair’s up there!’ Regan shouted. ‘I know it is!’

‘Oh calm down, Regan,’ said Dianna. ‘You’re acting like a baby. The Beast of Bathory is a myth. Even the Pups and the Tenderfoots don’t believe in all that guff.’

Regan got right up in Dianna’s face. She said, very slowly, ‘There is something in those woods. Something living. I’ve heard it. I’ve found things.’

‘For goodness’ sake …’

‘I’m going to find it, Dianna.’

‘Oh yes, Regan, I’m sure you are.’

I could have told everyone I’d seen it too, backed her up. Regan knew it and I knew it.

She was standing her ground pretty well though. ‘I will find it and I’ll show all of you. Even if I have to camp out in those woods I’ll find it. I’ll show you.’

Dianna glared at her. ‘You’re not camping in those woods. Mrs Saul-Hudson said that whole area is out of bounds over Christmas. Nash has put the signs up.’

‘I will if I have to.’ Regan shrugged.

‘You’re not, Regan. I’m warning you. I forbid you to.’

‘Tough.’

‘I’ll tell Matron.’

‘Only a fool would go looking for that thing,’ warned Mrs Renfield, placing a jar of marmalade and two tins of tapioca and peach halves on the counter and removing her purse from her trolley with her knobbly hands.

‘I don’t care,’ said Regan, sounding more like Maggie than her usual meek self. ‘Call me a fool if you like. It’s no
worse than what people call me already.’ She looked dangerously close to crying.

‘Weather forecast is saying snow’s coming, mind,’ said Charlie, doling out Mrs Renfield’s change.

‘Good,’ said Regan, definitely sulking now.

‘The temperature is plummeting every day. You are
not
going camping in those woods. It’s suicidal,’ said Dianna.

Did she really care or was she more worried about what Regan was going to find in those woods? Something she didn’t want anyone to know about?

‘If you do go looking for it, don’t do what my Henry did,’ said Mrs Renfield. We all turned to look at her. ‘Whatever you do, don’t run. Make yourself as big as you can, make as much noise as you can and with any luck he’ll leave you alone. It’s the quiet ones he goes for. If he starts running after you, there’s no getting away. Not from the size of them claws.’

Nobody said a word in reply.

‘We’d better get back,’ I interjected, killing the silence. ‘It’ll be dark soon.’ I looked at Charlie. ‘We have dinner at five. If we miss it, we don’t get anything else until breakfast.’

‘Jeez, they run that place like a Gulag, not a school,’ he laughed.

I tried to laugh but I still felt sick at all the talk about the Beast. Dianna waited outside as Regan carried on talking to Mrs Renfield and I said my goodbyes to Charlie, hoping he would bring up the subject of the Gorge again before I left. And he did.

‘Here,’ he said, scribbling something down on a white paper sweet bag and handing it to me. ‘My number. Text me when you’ve got a free afternoon, yeah?’

‘Might be a problem with that,’ I said. ‘We aren’t allowed our phones.’

‘What?’ he said, clearly outraged.

I shrugged. ‘Yeah, not until we go home. Maggie … well she did something so now we’re not allowed them. It’s just like you said. Gulag.’

He took the bag back and started scribbling something else.

‘And don’t give me an email address. We’re not allowed internet either. Our Matron’s blocked the WiFi.’

He looked shell-shocked, like I’d just said we’re not allowed oxygen. ‘Was that Maggie as well?’

I nodded.

‘Well, all right then, I’ll call you on the school phone,’ he said, handing me the paper again so I could write down the number, which I then did. ‘We could go out and do something, somewhere. You’re allowed one phone call a day on a landline, surely?’

I took the paper, tearing off a strip and writing down the school number. ‘I’m allowed two,’ I assured him and smiled. He smiled back. We were getting good at this smiling thing.

‘Bye, Charlie.’

‘Bye, Nash.’

I dipped my head, about to blush, and, as I walked out of the shop, I noticed the newspaper display was all back to front and sports pages up. I told Charlie.

‘I’ll sort it out, don’t worry. Kids,’ he huffed, coming around the counter again.

I felt a little pang of sadness as we left the warmth of the shop to venture out into the dim, cold outside world.

‘You won’t be allowed,’ said Dianna. ‘Matron won’t let
us watch soap operas, let alone allow us out on day trips with random boys.’

‘I’ll tell her he’s a relative,’ I said. ‘We’re allowed day trips with relatives.’ I waited for her to respond with some threat that she’d tell Matron herself, but she didn’t. She just carried on walking. ‘Hey, where’s Regan?’

And with that, Regan came running up behind us, waving something in her hand and shouting. ‘Guys, guys! Seriously, you’re not going to believe what Mrs Renfield gave me.’

Dianna stopped. Twenty metres behind her, I stopped. We both looked at Regan and waited for her to catch up. The closer she got to us, the clearer we could see it.

Clutched tightly in her grasp, about half the length of a long ruler, was a thick, black, sharp, bloodied claw.