Authors: Cathy MacPhail
Everyone deserved a second chance. Didn’t they?
He would not let fear ruin things for him. He was going to forget Papa Blood existed. He would avoid ever being near him. Let Patrick do what he wanted.
It was in the afternoon that the whispered rumours started flying around the school. One wilder than the next.
It began with a body found in the cemetery.
But the story blazed out of control.
Cut into little pieces.
Blood everywhere.
Beyond recognition.
The police were back on the estate in force. Sitting in the classroom, everyone could hear the sirens.
A body found.
Let it be Papa Blood
, Mosi thought. Then he could live without fear of ever seeing him again.
But that wasn’t the whispered rumour that raced round the school and was sent on text messages from one school to another. For them, there was a growing excited suspicion.
The vampire had struck again.
Mosi’s father was at the school gates waiting for him when school ended. Many of the parents were there. Mothers, fathers, carers. Mosi even saw Patrick’s granny, a big broad woman with her blonde tipped hair cut in a fashionable bob.
‘Why did you come?’ Mosi asked his father.
His father put his hand on his shoulder. ‘Have you heard about the body?’
Mosi nodded. ‘We all did. I hoped it was only a rumour.’
‘No rumour. Someone has been murdered.’
‘Who . . . who was it?’ Mosi was afraid to ask, afraid of the answer.
‘No one knows yet. It doesn’t matter. If it is one of the locals, we will all get the blame for it. If it is one of the asylum seekers, we will still have trouble.’ His father looked worried.
As they walked home together Mosi could feel the tension on the estate. The police cars were there, cruising the area, watching for any unrest. There were groups of men standing talking; they ignored Mosi and his father, but their suspicious eyes followed them as they passed.
Patrick couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw his granny at the school gates.
‘What are you doing here?’ He was looking around to see who else noticed her. But how could anybody miss his granny? For a start, she’d just had her hair done. She had blonde highlights and everything. Hair that looked totally out of place on his granny’s head.
‘I’m here because your mother isn’t,’ she snapped. At the same time she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him on. ‘Have you heard what happened?’
‘A dead body . . . I heard there was blood everywhere.’
‘Oh, and you’ll be adding to that, telling people there was a disembodied head rolling out of the cemetery, eyes popping out the sockets, I suppose.’
‘Was there?’
She never answered him. Proof enough it was true.
‘The body really was found in the cemetery?’
‘There’s already been trouble. A fight broke out . . . mind you, it was in a pub and they were all drunk, but it’s a sign of things to come. So, we are in for the night.’
‘What do you mean . . . we?’
‘I’m staying at your place the night.’
The thought horrified him. ‘But I’ve got to go out. I’ve got people to meet,’ he said.
His granny stopped walking. ‘You talk as if you’re a blinkin’ business executive. You’ve “got people to meet”! Well, call them up on your mobile and cancel your meeting.’
There was no chance of escaping from his granny’s clutches. He was staying in whether he liked it or not . . . and he didn’t like it. It was so annoying. Because this was one night he wanted to go out. Needed to. There was an excitement in the air. Patrick could feel it. He wanted to be part of it. But he’d never get away from his granny.
‘Do you think that vampire might have come back, Granny? It’s all they’re talking about at school.’
She flicked her fingers against his head. Honest, between his granny and his mother, it was a miracle he wasn’t brain damaged. ‘That was only a story, Patrick. I believed it then. I was nine. We were all caught up in it. But I would never believe it now. Vampires don’t exist. And let me tell you, son. Real life is a lot scarier than any vampire story.’
By morning, the identity of the dead man was known.
Mosi heard it as soon as he got into the school. Hakim and Cody, for once standing together, were clearly talking about it. Hakim called out to him, ‘Have you heard who it was?’
Mosi shook his head. He held his breath, waiting for the answer.
It was Hakim who shouted the answer, pushing through his friends till he was standing in front of Mosi.
‘It was Grady McManus.’
Mosi felt himself go weak. Grady McManus. Mosi could see him again in the underpass, his machete raised high, ready to attack Papa Blood.
Now Grady was dead.
‘Remember him?’
‘I remember him.’
‘The night you left poor Mr Okafor to be chopped to pieces.’ Hakim stepped closer. Too close. He lowered his voice. ‘I don’t trust you, Mosi, but I am warning you about this. We’ve all decided.’ He waved his arms taking in not only his own friends, but Cody’s too. ‘We’ve all talked about it, and we’ve decided that we don’t mention the old man. Or what we saw in the underpass. That never happened. He’s a nice old man, everyone says so. Even Cody thinks it would be unfair to link him with McManus.’
Cody came across then. ‘McManus had loads of enemies. There’ll be a queue of suspects as long as your arm. We’re not going to get that old guy into trouble.’
There was a murmur of agreement.
Hakim turned to Cody. ‘You know, that old man wouldn’t bring any charges against McManus. He just wanted it forgotten. So . . .’ He turned his cold eyes on Mosi, as if he was the enemy. ‘It never happened.’
Mosi only nodded his head.
‘If that old man is questioned by the police . . . I will blame you.’
He threatened him because he could. He thought Mosi a coward, who would say nothing back to him.
Mosi said nothing back to him.
They drifted away from him, still talking. Grady’s death seemed to have drawn them together. Mosi stood alone, his mind in a whirl. McManus had attacked Okafor. And now McManus was dead.
Papa Blood hadn’t changed. He was the same monster he had always been. He had come after McManus, Mosi had no doubt of it.
But what could he do about it?
There was a fire on the estate that night. Mosi watched it from his bedroom window. Long tongues of flame reaching into the dark sky. Sparks of light rising like fireflies into the night. He could hear the sirens as they roared towards the blaze. His mother came into the room to watch with him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘It’s on the other end of the estate. Far from us.’
‘I wonder who started it.’
‘Everyone hated this man, everyone was afraid of him. Yet, now he has become a victim.’
Mosi wondered what was on fire. It wasn’t one of the tower blocks. It looked more like one of the boarded-up shops.
If the asylum seekers were now in danger because of Grady McManus’s death, then it would all be Papa Blood’s fault. He had brought this on them. Mosi had no doubt about Papa Blood’s guilt.
And his guilt too.
This would never have happened if he had told the authorities who Mr Okafor really was. He would have been arrested. McManus would still be alive. Papa Blood would have been gone from here.
But what if he had found out it was Mosi who had exposed him? And he could find out anything. The man had magic in him. He would know, hadn’t he always known? He would find Mosi. He would come back for him.
Yet he had to tell someone, but who? And how could he tell and keep himself and his parents safe?
There was no way out of this. None that he could see.
Mosi wasn’t the only one who felt guilty. Three floors up, Patrick was also watching the fire from his balcony. He was so dying to get out there, to get closer. But of course, his granny wouldn’t let him out of the door. He felt sorry for his mother too. She’d been grounded as well. His granny had his mother slaving over a hot iron, getting his uniform ready for the next day. Meanwhile, she was in the kitchen, clearing out the cupboards, chucking out mouldy bread, and milk that had passed its sell-by date.
One thing about his granny, when she was here she got things done.
He looked across at his mum. ‘She’s driving me potty, Patrick,’ she mouthed to him.
He nodded his agreement. They were definitely going to have to come up with a plan to get rid of her.
Then Patrick turned back to the balcony. He watched the flames rise to the sky. And even though his common sense told him how crazy it was, he could not get the picture of the vampire, lurking somewhere in the shadows, out of his head.
Mosi’s mother walked with him to school next morning. He noticed that hardly any of the pupils walked alone.
There was still the smell of burning in the air. More fires had sprung up as the night progressed.
At the school gates, Patrick and his granny approached them. Patrick’s granny was gripping him as if he was under arrest. She smiled at Mosi’s mother. ‘Would you mind if I walked back with you, dear? We live in the same block, don’t we?’
She turned to Patrick. ‘Away you go. I’ll see you at finishing time.’
Patrick’s face turned the same colour as his hair. ‘I can walk home on my own.’ He grabbed at Mosi’s arm. ‘Me and Mosi’ll walk home together.’
Patrick’s granny hesitated.
Patrick was determined. ‘Aw, Granny, we’ll be fine. There’ll be a whole gang of us.’
His granny laughed. ‘I’ll think about it.’ Then she smiled at Mosi’s mother. ‘You worry about them that much, don’t you, hen. But don’t worry. This’ll all pass. That Grady guy had that many enemies they’ll be able to fill two buses with the suspects.’ And when she laughed, Mosi saw the beginnings of a smile on his mother’s face too.
‘Your granny is really kind,’ Mosi said to Patrick as they watched them walk away. He saw that his mother was being chaperoned, protected, in a quiet way by Patrick’s granny.
Patrick blew out his cheeks. ‘You like her? You can have her. For nothing.’ Then he pulled Mosi into a corner. ‘Mosi, I’ve been thinking about this all night. I know you’re scared of Mr Okafor. I saw how scared you were. You’ve got to tell me why.’
Mosi stepped back from him. He so much wanted someone to confide in, someone who might understand. Patrick had seen his fear of Papa Blood. He would not let this go until he knew at least a little bit of the truth.
‘After school, Patrick. We will talk after school.’
Mrs Telford stood in front of them in class during registration, her face set like stone. The room was silent. ‘There have been a lot of things going on in the area,’ she began. ‘These things have nothing to do with you. You did not cause them. And I want you all to know . . .’ She paused, and her eyes passed round the classroom, taking them all in, one by one, ‘and I mean
all
of you, that here, in this school, you have a place where you will be safe. There will be no tension here. No fighting. No discrimination. Here, we are all the same. If there is anything worrying you, come to me. Talk to me, talk to your teachers. We are all here for you.’
She meant it, Mosi thought as he listened. She meant every word. Yet when her eyes paused at his face, he was sure she meant her words for him alone. She knew his secret. And he could tell her about Papa Blood, and it would be all right.
If only.
Mrs Telford could try to make sure there was no tension in the school, but she couldn’t stop the rumours, the whispers, about the fires, about Grady’s death, whispers that grew more sinister with every telling.
There was a serial killer on the estate.
Grady’s heart had been torn out.
It was voodoo.
But the whisper that grew louder as it passed was the same one. That it was the vampire, back again. That rumour seemed to grow with every passing moment.
Cody helped it along. ‘My granda was there the last time it came. He went to the cemetery. He says he saw the vampire. Actually saw it.’
Patrick didn’t believe a word of that. Cody was worse than Patrick for telling stories.
‘This is just how it started before, my granda says. People dying in weird ways, or going missing.’ Cody held up his phone at break time. ‘I’ve just had a text from my mate at Park Green School. He says Grady’s body was drained of blood. They think it was the vampire as well.’
Murmurs of horrified agreement.
‘Everyone said the vampire would come back,’ Patrick said. Caught up in it too.
Even Bliss began to be convinced, despite her common sense. ‘My dad says there are no such things as vampires.’ But she was trying to make herself believe that.