Название: The Reluctant Vampire Omnibus
Автор: Eric Morecambe
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Детская проза
isbn: 9780007558148
isbn:
‘Vould you also brink it back?’
‘Sometimes, but sometimes I forget.’ Wilf looked around the tavern once more. ‘Mind you, I don’t run so much when I’m not a werewolf. When I’m an ordinary human being I like to sit at home with my legs up. I rest because I know that as soon as the full moon comes up again I go to bed and in about ten or twenty minutes or so I look down at the back of my hands and the hairs are starting to grow.’
‘Vot do you do then?’ Victor asked with keen interest.
‘Well, I get up and go on to the landing and shout through my mum’s door, “The hairs are growing Mum, so I’ll be off now and I’ll see you in about a week or ten days” and she shouts back something like, “All right, love. Be a good boy and bring back a fresh loaf with you” so then I’m off again, running.’
Wilf finished talking and noticed that everybody in the tavern was listening to him. This made him feel quite important.
Victor nodded agreement all through Wilf’s conversation. He turned to Grabbo saying, ‘I’ll haff one for the road, Grabbo. I’ll haff half a forty year olt.’ Turning back to Wilf he said:
‘I mustn’t haff anythink too stronk at the moment. I’m meeting the vife later on ant takink her out for a bite.’
‘Where?’ asked Wilf with enough interest in his voice to make Victor think, ‘He vants to come too.’
‘Er, vell, it’s more off a small family get-together than anythink else. Just the vife, Vernon, me and Valentine, if he’s any better. Ve vill propaply go and vait at the bridle path ant see if there is anythink vorth bitink.’
Victor was trying to get away quickly. ‘Oh, gutt Lord, is that the time? I tolt the vife I vould pick her up at twelf thirty.’
‘Is that the time she falls down?’ Wilf asked.
‘Pardon me?’ said a puzzled Victor.
‘You said you would pick her up at twelve thirty, so I was asking you if that was the time she fell down … Twelve thirty?’
‘Vilf, I haff never unterstood your jokes ant I still don’t. Guttbye Vilf,’ Victor said, patting Wilf on the head and giving him a tickle under the chin. Wilf showed his approval by licking Victor’s ear.
Victor left the tavern the same way as he had arrived – by the window. Areta went to close the window after him, thinking, ‘He’s just like all men. Never closes anything after him.’
Grabbo started to clean the glasses and whistled a late night tune. The tune was very popular in Gotcha at the moment. It was called ‘Show me the way to my cottage and my bed’. He hoped Wilf and the other two customers might take the hint and realise how late it was. But Wilf was in a talking mood that night.
‘Nice man, Victor, eh Grabbo?’
‘Charming,’ Grabbo said, oozing sarcasm that went straight over Wilf’s head. Wilf was quiet for a few seconds and then asked:
‘I don’t suppose you have anybody fresh in the cold cellar have you Grabbo?’
‘No,’ said Grabbo truthfully while putting the forty year old away.
‘It’s just that I fancy somebody fresh, that’s all.’
‘You heard what my father said, Wilf,’ Areta said, bustling around and clearing the table of the two customers who took the hint and left without saying goodnight to anyone.
‘Well, have you got any crisps then?’ Wilf asked.
‘What flavour?’ Grabbo asked with a tired voice.
After a moment’s thought Wilf said, ‘Human please.’
Grabbo threw him a pack of crisps saying, ‘Smokey bacon, take it or leave it.’
‘I’ll take it,’ Wilf said, his lips and teeth tearing open the packet.
‘That will be three lukas.’
‘What?’ Wilf asked, spraying crisps all over the bar.
‘That will be three lukas. Are you going deaf, Wilf?’
‘I haven’t got three lukas. As a matter of fact I haven’t got any money at all.’
‘No money? No money at all?’ Grabbo said, looking at his daughter.
‘No. You see, when I’m a werewolf I haven’t any pockets so I can’t carry any money.’
‘All right, Wilf,’ Grabbo said in a bored and tired voice. ‘You owe me three lukas.’
‘Thanks Grabbo.’
‘That’s O.K. Now take your crisps and go.’
‘Yes. Well goodnight then, Grabbo, and goodnight Areta. By the way, Areta, I’m not a werewolf next week so I was wondering if you would come to the fair with me a week on Thursday?’
‘Goodnight Wilf,’ Areta said softly.
‘Goodnight Areta,’ Wilf said sadly.
CHAPTER 3
A Vampire family on the street;
A Werewolf with only crisps to eat.
Valentine suddenly stopped Igon by putting his hand out. The Doctor and the servant behind nearly bumped into them. Since they had left Valentine’s room the four had been walking along seemingly endless corridors. Now Valentine had spotted the motif of a bat biting the throat of another bat on a door. He turned to his new friends and nodded.
Slowly he opened the door and they all looked into a very large, beautifully furnished room. Even the coffin in the middle of the room was made from Japanese walnut and highly polished. The handles of the coffin were gold, as was a massive candelabra holding twelve sixteen-inch lighted candles on a round, exquisitely-made satinwood table.
‘Hello, Mum,’ Valentine smiled, directing the other five eyes to the coffin. ‘Mum?’ he called, ‘are you in there?’
Queen Valeeta’s head rose slowly out of the opened coffin. She saw Valentine and smiled.
‘Darling. My darling boy,’ she breathed heavily. ‘Give me a hand, there’s a good boy. It’s time I rose. I have to meet your father. He’s taking us out tonight. You, too, Valentine, if you are well enough.’
Valentine helped his mother out of the coffin. She stood on the floor and swayed for a moment, then quickly composed herself. She took three or four deep breaths then looked at Igon, Doctor Plump and the servant. She raised a quizzical eyebrow СКАЧАТЬ