“That’s not the point. He has skills and gifts. But is unwilling to help.”
Reminded Gryffyth of the time she’d scolded him and Alice’s brother, Michael, for climbing on the roof of the garage to pick fruit off the high branches of the apple tree.
“There was another, too,” Alice said. “Mother Longhurst.”
Gryffyth stared at her. “The old witch?”
Alice nodded. “I used to scoff at her and her magic and herbs but she really helped. She knew more than any of us about Vampires.”
“Won’t she still help us?” She had been a solitary, independent old biddy, but…
“She’s dead,” Alice said. “Died in rather odd circumstances.”
“Killed?”
“Who knows. I think the circumstances were odd. The police who found her, and the medical officer who did the death certificate, don’t.”
He’d like to get the whole story about that too. “So it’s us,” he said, “against Vampires. How many of them and what are they doing?”
“As for how many,” Alice said, “we don’t know for sure. We’ve dispatched two, another Gran and I saw. I found him injured, but he disappeared. Seems Gryffyth encountered another.”
“Or maybe the same one,” Peter suggested. “Alice knows what that first one looked like.”
“I saw him too,” Dad added. “Helped get him into the surgery from the car. He was in a bad way. Or appeared to be. He could barely stand and had a nasty wound in his side.”
“But,” Peter added, his voice grim, “by the time the ambulance arrived, a couple of hours later, he’d disappeared.”
“After killing Alice’s dog,” Mrs. Burrows said.
“And no one saw him again?” Gryffyth asked. It was only a very tenuous thread of understanding, but he was slowly coming to grips with this.
“Until this afternoon,” Alice said. She went on to explain the events of the afternoon in Guildford.
“Tall, blond, and youthful,” Gryffyth said, almost to himself. “And you think he’s come back?”
“If he has, there’s three of us will recognize him on sight,” Mrs. Burrows said.
“The one I saw wasn’t as tall as I am and dark haired. Didn’t get a feel for age, but he was strong. Not as strong as I am. Thank heaven.”
“Then there’s two we have to worry about,” Andrew said. “Blimey, are they never going to stop?”
“Where are they coming from might be a better question,” Peter said, and nodded across the table at Gryffyth. “We ought to tell you the story from the beginning.”
“Or as much as we know,” Alice said, with a smile at her husband. “Go on.”
“Me? Alright then. The rest of you interrupt if I miss something. First thing was, as the sergeant said, Alice finds this injured person, brings him back and he disappears. Next one appears in the village, claiming to be a nephew of a villager. (Who, incidentally, was arrested as a German spy a little while later.) There’s an odd incident up at Andrew’s munitions camp. Guards collapse. A couple of days later, Gloria raises the alarm again and the place is found to be ringed with explosives. We get help from Old Mother Longhurst. She gave Alice a magic knife and told us what to do to get rid of him. It worked.” He gave a shudder as if the memory wasn’t one to be revisited more than absolutely necessary.
In the pause, Andrew took up the story. “The second one came and set up as a baker. Until…well, to cut it short, we twigged him. He tried some nasty tricks with Alice.” Gryffyth noticed Peter squeezing Alice’s hand. “The long and short of it is Gloria did him in.”
“Alright,” Gryffyth asked, “aren’t Vampires supposed to be immortal?”
“But not indestructible,” Alice said. “A magic druid knife and mistletoe work best, with stakes as backup.” She shrugged. “It’s not easy.”
He’d worked that much out for himself. “Where do they come from and why Brytewood?”
That earned him a good minute’s silence. “At a guess,” Mrs. Burrows said, getting up to fetch the teapot and refill everyone’s cup, “they come from the Jerries. Who else would want to sabotage an essential munitions camp?”
Very good point. Gryffyth took another tart from the plate Andrew handed him. Mrs. Burrows’s cooking was the utter best. Even in these times. “So, you think this thing that went for me is another Vampire?”
“Seems like it, son.” He stared at his father. This was really too much.
“So what now?”
“Now we all finish our tea and go home, I think,” said Mrs. Burrows. “It’s getting late, and we all need a good night’s sleep if we have to deal with Vampires in the morning.”
“I thought they couldn’t come out in daylight?” Gryffyth said.
“That’s a myth,” Dad replied. “Made up by the talkies. This lot seem to wander about as they darn well please.”
No one contradicted him. “Anything else I need to know?” Crikey! He’d thought Norway was tough. Seems there was trouble as bad lurking in the Surrey hills. “Have these Vampires killed, apart from your dog, Alice?” He remembered old Susie, who used to race across the fields with them.
The silence and nods answered that one.
“Now then.” Mrs. Burrows stood up. “That’s enough for one night. It’s late. Gryffyth knows what’s going on here. What we all have to do now is keep our eyes and ears open.”
Gryffyth felt frankly lost as Alice dropped them at the gate and he hobbled up to the front door.
“You alright, son?” Dad asked. “No harm felt from the attack?”
“I think I did more harm to him…it.”
“Maybe you did, son, but nothing seems to stop them for good.”
“Except Alice and Gloria.”
“Yes. Good girls they are. Strong in magic, both of them.”
“Pity we don’t have more on our side.”
Dad opened the door. “There’s another, son.”
“The person Mrs. Burrows mentioned?”
“Not him,” Dad replied, taking off his coat and giving Gryffyth a hand with his. “That’s Whorleigh, a self-serving, no-use creature if ever there was one. There’s someone else, son.” He gave a smile. “You’ve met ’em and you’ll work out who it is by the time we need ’em. They’ll help us beat the Boches.”
“What in heaven does that mean, Dad?”
“Think about it. Want a mug of cocoa before we turn in?”
Cocoa? How could Dad talk about Vampires, German spies, undiscovered Others and cocoa at the same time? And come to that, what was it with Whorleigh, the grocer?
And he’d thought it would be quiet, maybe even a bit dull back home. Shows what he knew.
As he undressed and got into his pajamas, Gryffyth wondered briefly who this mysterious, not Whorleigh, Other was. But what he really wondered was what Mary was doing. Undressing too, he hoped. He liked the thought of Mary with her clothes off. If her whole body was as smooth and warm as her breasts under his fingers…
He’d better watch it or he’d never be able to sleep on his stomach.
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