Chapter 4.22 – Flirt With Death

April’s towel kept slipping as she padded across the plush carpet towards Broof’s closet. Wyatt had turned in in the early hours – which is when Melinda went home – leaving April to silently exist in the house alone, trying to amuse herself. She was used to that though, that had been her whole life up until Caleb had killed her after all.

She’d daydreamed, she’d read a few of Broof’s books, she’d wrote some notes in her potion recipe book. She’d made up a sweet song then rewrote it with it silly lyrics. She’d tiptoed down the stairs and out the back door, slipped her shoes off and felt the damp grass between her toes. She’d smiled at the moon and scolded the sun as it started to rise. Shoo!

She soon realised that the sun wasn’t listening and was starting to hurt her. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been looking where she was going, so as she’d run from impending solar doom, she had slipped and ended up covered in mud, forcing her to shower.

It was at this point that she realised that in her haste to flee the apartment, she had forgotten to pack any of the clothes she’d washed. And what she had packed smelled extra bad in the surroundings of Broof’s sanitised house.

Broof had three washing machines, but April didn’t know how to use any of them. She couldn’t find the coin hole, for starters, so she didn’t know where to put the coins she’d borrowed from one of Broof’s jackets. The machines looked far more complicated than the coin-operated one at the launderette and didn’t have any instructions printed on the front. Plus, Broof had a whole cupboard full of various laundry liquids, powders, solutions, tablets, pods…

April was utterly clueless, so she decided that she’d wash her clothing later, when Wyatt woke up to help, or when Melinda came round to visit.

For the time being, she decided to see if Broof had any clothing she could borrow. She figured he wouldn’t mind as long as she was super-duper careful not to stain anything. He was bigger than she was but maybe one of his shirts could be a makeshift dress or something. It would be much more decent than wandering around in a towel!

She stepped into his huge closet which was just as organised as she’d expected.

There must be something suitable in here.

April carefully rifled through pristine jackets and perfectly-pressed trousers wondering what to wear. She was planning to mix up some potions, so she really didn’t want anything white or light-coloured in case of splashes. But Broof really liked pastel colours, it seemed. She had been about to decide on a blue blazer when she’d spotted a small brown box on a shelf at the back of the closet.

April was never one who could resist a hidden box and this was no exception. She tugged it out and peeked inside and oh was she glad she did! She found something perfect! She hadn’t know before that moment that Broof liked wearing women’s clothes. It was a bit sad that he felt he had to hide it in his closet, but April understood. Or she was trying to understand, she was getting there. If she could cope with Wyatt wearing nail varnish, she told herself, she supposed she could cope with Broof wearing a dress.

Unfortunately most of the dresses were too big for April, or had lots of complicated fastenings she couldn’t do up herself, so she settled on a simple brown jumper and a long skirt with pretty flowers on it. Satisfied with her outfit, she sat at the dresser to do her daily beauty routine.

Even though she couldn’t see her face, she could still do it. She’d been doing it all her life; her hands just knew where to go.

Her skin was so very dry that day, although she had been on fire a few hours earlier, she supposed. As she was gently applying one of Broof’s fancy moisturisers, she noticed how similar Broof’s dressing table was to the one she had back at the mansion. And remembering that brought back all sorts of sad feelings.

She remembered a time when she saw her face in the mirror a hundred times a day and hated it more each time.

“All the press was about was how sickly YOU looked. I swear that if you show ME up again…”

She shook her head, clearing the fading memory of her mother’s voice.

With shaking hands, she focused instead on putting on her lipstick. It snagged on her rough lips and caught on her fangs.

Oh dear. She wiped it off and tried again.

Mother would’ve told her that she looked dreadful.

April rubbed her lips together. Her mother was still ranting in her head. She usually shut it out, but this time she decided to listen, chewing over a few of her mother’s other comments.

It was so unfair that even though her mother had been dead for months she still lived in April’s head, making her feel miserable about herself.

Wyatt never ever said that she looked dreadful, she realised.

Even without her makeup when April just knew that her dark circles, spots and pores were all on show, Wyatt didn’t seem to notice. He certainly wasn’t ashamed of her, or at least he seemed not to be.

Wyatt didn’t mind what she wore, how she did her hair, not even if she’d forgotten to shave her legs that day. When she fussed over how her hair wouldn’t sit right, he’d ruffle it and say it looked fine. When she obsessed over how many blackheads she must have, he’d boop her nose and tell her she was adorable.

And maybe, just maybe, he was right because Melinda said that too and Melinda never lied.

But that meant that her mother had lied. And why would she have done that?

April put down her lipstick and decided not to do the rest of her routine. She wandered over to the other mirror in the room.

It was impossible to not look into every mirror she passed to check that her hair was all right, that her padded boobs didn’t look lumpy or if she looked too fat in her clothes.

“What on Earth are you wearing?! You can’t wear that – you look like an elephant.”

Hmm. April thought, turning a slow circle and watching the empty mirror. Maybe Mother was right. Maybe April did look like an elephant.

But if she did?

At least she was an adorable one.

At an unpopulated vampire house in Forgotten Hollow, Jessica and her shiny-hatted tagalongs were taking a well-earned break from investigating. It was clear that the house had been abandoned for some time. The four walls house had readily surrendered their secrets, but they had only served to further confuse and confound the quartet.

Why had a vampire been growing spliced plants in a bedroom? Where they experimenting, or attempting to make something? And if so, what were they trying to make?

Perhaps they simply had a fascination with botany?

What that usual for vampires?

Any why would a vampire have so many books on anatomy? Surely they only needed to know where the veins were, and even then they’d be a pretty poor vampire if they had to look that up every time they fancied a drink.

The notes and bookmarks left on the pages suggested that the vampire had been learning how to, or at least had an interest in, healing humans. But that made no sense either. Why would a vampire care if their prey died?

Finally, and perhaps the most unsettling discovery, there was a chilled pantry off the kitchen that contained a plethora of containers and tubs filled with carefully preserved body parts.

Why on Earth would a vampire have those? Research? Trophies?

Jessica was glad that Morag had been the one to make that discovery as she felt like she was going to throw up at the best of times. But she wished Morag would stop describing her find in such detail.

“…I’m pretty sure it was a lump of flesh, but could’ve been a lung. Either way, it was slimy.”

“Right,” Yibbo replied, looking as sick as Jessica felt.

“You hear about this sometimes though, right Jess? Serial killers harvesting organs,” Pixie added. “Souvenirs.”

“But then why would they have bookshelves full of medical journals?” Yibbo asked.

“Maybe to learn how to extract things carefully?” Pixie suggested.

“Or to ensure that they kept their prey alive while they removed their spleens,” Morag guessed brightly.

“Neither,” came a familiar scoff. “The sister vampire was a doctor. Come on, it’s not that hard.”

“She was a doctor?” Jessica blurted out.

“Who was what?” Pixie asked.

“Rose is back,” Jessica clarified, gesturing behind her so her fellow GliTS could greet the correct space. “She says that the sister vampire was a doctor.”

“Oh, well I guess that makes sense,” Yibbo nodded. “I mean, it’s bloody terrifying, but at least it makes sense.

“Perfect sense,” Morag chipped in. “Lots of access to free blood and endless organs to decorate with.”

“Please stop,” Yibbo grimaced.

Behind Jessica, Rose snorted. “How did this wimp see the house first? Does she still think she’s a witch?”

“No,” Jessica paused. “Rose, do you know why the house was invisible?”

Rose rolled her eyes and tossed her hand dismissively. “Yeah. This house has a funky curse on it.”

“A curse?” Jessica repeated before she could vet herself.

“A curse?” Came the chorus from around her.

“Yeah,” Rose confirmed, seeming to enjoy her audience’s reaction. “An ancient one. You have to be dead to see it.”

Jessica’s mouth fell open as Yibbo looked at the space Jessica was staring at and back at her imploringly. “Is she behind me? Why are they always behind me? What is she saying?”

“That apparently only those who are dead can see this place,” Jessica relayed.

“Well, I’m not dead, we’re not all dead, right?” Pixie confirmed. “So that can’t be right.”

“It is right,” Rose insisted. “The closer to death you are, the faster you can see the house.”

“Oh, so the closer to death you are the faster— oh.”

Yibbo’s eyes shot wide and her hand flew to her throat. “But I saw it first! Ages before you guys! Am I gonna die? Oh my watcher! I’m gonna dieee!” She started flapping her hands and squealing hysterically. “Oh watcher why?! I had so much left to do in life! I never tried jewellery making! I never visited Selvadorada! I never went on a blind date with an aubergine!”

“You’re not missing anything,” Pixie mumbled and then spun to look at Jessica. “Wait a second – if Yibbo is almost dead and I can also see the house – am I also nearly dead?”

“Ugh. I hope they’re not nearly dead,” Rose groaned. “Being stuck with pants loser forever is bad enough.”

“We’re not nearly dead,” Jessica said, her head throbbing in the chaos – how many times in five minutes could they use the word ‘dead’? “We can’t all be, surely? There must be another reason.”

“That is the reason.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” Jessica asked. “Because if you are sure, I really need to phone my mother.”

Rose sighed in a bored way.

“Look, lady, I’ve been here, like, ages and I’ve only ever seen vampires – undead, the odd floppy vampire prey – nearly dead – one old man – almost dead – and ghosts – definitely dead – hanging around here. Everyone else just wanders through like there’s nothing to see. Trust me.”

Jessica frowned. “I find it implausible,” she murmured, looking at the very solid and definitely there house. “Maybe you’re along the right lines, but maybe it’s not being dead, maybe it’s a close encounter with death, some closer than others. Sorry Rose.” The girl shrugged. “Because there was this one time I was showering with one of those radio that had a suction cup on, so of course I thought it was safe to use in the shower. And it would have been, had my mother not opened casing to check for bugs. Long story short, I was technically dead for about a minute – but maybe that can’t be right as I couldn’t see the house straight away…”

“Well no duh. You’re literally blooming with life,” Rose said gesturing at Jessica’s bump. “What about your fellow nutters; they ever had a near-death experience?”

Jessica relayed the question, to which Pixie and Morag nodded.

“I first heard a ghost after falling down the stairs,” Pixie said sombrely.

“You fell down the stairs?!” Jessica asked.

“Well, technically I stumbled down one stair but it still made my life flash before my eyes.”

“And what about you Morag?”

She shrugged casually. “I’ve had a few near misses. Who hasn’t?”

“I haven’t!” Yibbo cried. “I could see it first and I’m the least risk-taking person ever! I sleep on my back so I don’t suffocate in my pillow. My car has 14 airbags in the steering wheel. I even wear sandals in the shower so I don’t slip and crack my head open! I would never ever flirt with death—” She paused. “Oh, wait, there was something…”

“Uh… never mind.”

“Never mind?”

“Nope, there was one time I… yep, we’re good, we’ve all had a close encounter with death, that must be it. Phew! Panic over, why were you all panicking? Right, I’m going to go look for more clues in, um, the bathroom now. Bye!”

“Yeah, we’d better go finish up what we were doing so we can get back before dark,” Pixie agreed accompanying Yibbo into the house, Morag right behind them.

Jessica watched them go, relishing the silence they left in their wake. She’d just take a minute before she headed back into the crazy hell house.

Rose had been quietly lingering but as Jessica sighed and resigned herself to continue her investigation, the ghost girl blocked her path.

“Hey, um, Jessica right?”

“Yes? Is everything all right?” She replied. Was that a stupid question to ask a ghost she wondered?

“Yeah, I suppose. Um. It’s just that, I was just… um, wondering how long you’re staying for?”

“Oh we’ll be gone in an hour or two, don’t worry. Sorry, I know this probably a lot, us exploding on to the scene and disturbing your eternal rest.”

“Yeah,” Rose said. “Are you coming back any other time, or…”

Jessica’s face fell. She had been planning to come back – there was still a basement and a crypt to explore. It selfishly hadn’t occurred to her that her plan might have a negative impact on Rose. “I’m really sorry,” she said sincerely. “If us being here is bothering you—”

“It’s not. I’m not bothered if you’re here. Or not. Why would I care if you’re here?”

The penny dropped for Jessica. She understood what Rose was really asking. “We’ll be back,” she promised gently.

“Ugh. Fine. I suppose you gotta investigate and stuff. OK,” Rose nodded. “So… uh, when will you be back? So I can, like, avoid you because I so don’t care.”

Jessica supressed a sad smile looking at the girl who suddenly seemed years younger and far more vulnerable. She was pulling on Jessica’s heartstrings, stirring all these complicated maternal feelings she had been battling.

She wanted to hug her and it pained her to realise that she couldn’t.

“We’ll be back tomorrow, unless…” she looked up at the foreboding, creepy house. “Could we stay here overnight?”

“Ugh no,” Rose said with a hint of a smile. “Don’t stay. Here, I mean, the vampires might come back.”

“OK,” Jessica said softly, trying to read the teenager. “I guess I’ll head home, come back tomorrow—”

“Is it far though? ‘Cause like, if it is you gotta get up real early to make it here for dawn and getting up early really sucks.”

“It is pretty far.”

“OK,” Rose chewed this over. “Ugh. I suppose you staying closer makes sense if you really have to. And I do know a place nearby you can stay that’s pretty safe. Like, off the radar. It has a ghost, but she seems okay.”

“’Seems’ OK?”

“Yeah, well I can’t go in her house ‘cause I died outside, and she can’t come out ‘cause she died inside, so we chat sometimes across the lawn. Her name’s Marjorie.”

“All right, thanks, we’ll go see if we can stay with Marjorie.”

“Yeah but, like, only if you need somewhere to stay. You don’t have to hang around, or come back, or anything.”

Jessica smiled. Marjorie’s house must be the other house they passed on the way here. A heavily decorated yet quaint little house with an overgrown garden and a wishing well. Much less intimidating than a moody gothic manor full of body parts. And maybe if she hung around long enough Rose might open up a little more. Maybe she’d be able to help the girl figure out why she was trapped here.

“Thanks for looking out for us, Rose.”

“Yeah, whatever,” the girl muttered, this time unable to hide her smile. She vanished in her trademark wisp of smoke.

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