„Attention, mes amies! Un, deux, trois!“ Madame Katharina Tolstoy, no relation to the famous author as she had frequently pointed out on enrolment day, cast her steely eye over the line up of her pupils. She stopped her inspection in front of one grubby, tutu-clad girl and frowned.
“Your mother has received my letter, yes? Dress rehearsal is on Saturday at 6pm sharp. She will allow you to come, yes? She will send you out to me in a…harrumph…suitable outfit for such an important occasion, ma petite?”
“Mum’s been a bit busy this week…new job, you know. Lots to learn and all that.” Willow Band looked down her pink leotard and tights and frowned at the mud stain on her shin, as if staring at it would make it disappear. “I’ll be there on Saturday, suitably dressed,” she hastened to add, when Madame raised a perfectly drawn eyebrow.
“Best foot forward now, girls, and no more chatting!” Madame clapped her hands and flicked the switch on her ancient tape recorder.
“Please, not Schubert’s Trout again!”
“Shush, she’ll hear you!” Felicity
“I’d like to help more around the house, but Mum won’t let me. She wants me to concentrate on my poetry,”
Madame finally released her pupils, after she had repeated Schubert’s fishy melody five times over.
“No bus today?” Mr. Henderson stuck his head out of the car window. Felicity sat in the back craning her neck to see what was going on. “Can we give you a lift?”
“Something must have happened. If you wouldn’t mind dropping me off at the junction?”
“I’ll run you home; you can’t walk in this weather! We’ll take the route by the river, it’s quicker.” Mr. Henderson closed the window and Felicity opened the door for her.
It was only when
“This is Kevin, Mr. Bakewell’s son.” Felicity explained. “His father couldn’t pick him up from school today, so Daddy’s taking him home first, if you don’t mind.”
Kevin was the son of their former headmaster.
Mr. Henderson turned into
Suddenly the car swerved and Mr. Henderson let out an oath. Felicity squealed and Kevin gasped. Mr. Henderson slammed the breaks and the car came to the shuddering halt. In the headlights stood a man, his hair wild, eyes wide. He was drenched to the skin but didn’t seem to feel the cold.
“Dad?” Kevin’s frightened voice broke the silence.
“Hello son. Get out of the car
“Don’t be foolish, Bakewell. I’ve got three children in the car and I’m taking them home. Where’s your car? Shall I run you home?” Mr. Henderson spoke kindly but firmly.
“Henderson, you slimy toad! Don’t play the Mr. Charming game with me! You cost me my job. Now get out of the car!”
Mr. Bakewell had planted himself in front of the car and seemed ready to spend the night there if necessary. Mr. Henderson hesitated.
“Don’t do it, Daddy.” Felicity put her hand on her father’s shoulder. “No wonder he lost his job. That man’s deranged.”
A large tear rolled down Kevin’s cheek and then another and another.
Mr. Bakewell pulled Mr. Henderson out of the car and pushed him towards the muddy embankment. Below, the river rushed past and swept away everything in its path. The children watched how a bedraggled Mr. Henderson slipped, fell and crawled through the mud searching for his glasses. A crack and the sound of shattering glass told
“Stop screeching and help me get those two away from the river’s edge!”
It would have been easy for
The hamlets in this district and the
Mr. Bakewell had started circling Mr. Henderson, who was cowering in the mud, rain flattening his thinning hair and soaking his expensive suit. Closer and closer, tighter and tighter the circle became.
“
“Now look here, Bakewell, be reasonable. The school’s governors decided it was time for a change. Nothing to do with –“
“Nothing to do with you? Hah, I’ve got it on good authority that it was you who planted rumours about my gambling debts and my drinking. All lies, filthy lies!” Mr. Bakewell charged and took a swipe at Mr. Henderson, who’d only just managed to stand up again in the slime.
Both men fell to the ground and started rolling around, taking turns to hit each other, albeit not very successfully. Eventually, Mr. Bakewell’s bulk won the day and he sat on the flattened
Felicity had just started making her kettle noise again, when the embankment gave way and both men fell into the river.
They were carried away with the current, a gurgling, hissing, spitting conveyor belt racing through the autumn night. Felicity screamed. Kevin scrambled out of the car and would have run down to the river, if
“What did I tell you about staying in the car? Felicity and I will deal with this. You’re far too…important – if any adult passes by you must tell them what has happened. Tell them we’ve taken the path towards
She tore open the boot. She found a spare tire, Mr. Henderson’s waders and two gym bags containing tights and leotards.
The wind beat the rain into their faces and it was thanks to
“There, by the bridge! If we make it in time, we can save them!”
“Here, hold this!”
“Here it goes!”
“Daddy, grab the tire! Please, Daddy, please hear me!” Felicity lay down on the bridge and screamed into the abyss below.
“Gotcha!”
Felicity jumped to it and together the girls helped the men scramble onto the bridge.
“Thank you
“By all that is sinister and evil, what’s been going on here?”
“Mr. Henderson was going to drive us home and then suddenly there was Mr. Bakewell and he said, Mr. Henderson was a louse and had cost him his job because of fishing…no…gambling, I think he said…and then they fought and the embankment gave way and they fell into the river and –“
“…and in the excitement you forgot about being an evil demon and risked your own skin saving these two fools?” Alice Band held her daughter’s face between her soft hands. “I see your tights and leotard are as filthy as ever…what is Madame going to say?”
“I promised Felicity I wouldn’t say anything at school about this, Mum.”
“I only promised I wouldn’t SAY ANYTHING…I didn’t promise not writing about it!”
“That’s my little fiend!”
The rain had finally stopped pelting down and a pale moon rose in the sky. The moonlight fell on mother and daughter smiling at each other and for a moment, Mr. Henderson thought he had seen fangs. He shook his head and mumbled: “A month into the job and I’m just as barmy as Bakewell. Curse that school!”
The End
I'm gradually revealing more about Willow's world and the people living in Stinkforth-upon-Avon. Having finished Willow's own website (http://willow-the-vampire.com) I'm planning to eventually present the stories as a graphic novel or a series of cartoons. There'll be music on the site thanks to help from the Welsh Music Foundation and bands located in Cardiff. Just keep popping back to the site, there'll be changes once a month.Comentario del autro
Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Maria Thermann.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 15.01.2010.
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