The Magic Cottage (15 page)

‘Oh yeah, I thought I’d seen you before,’ I replied. ‘You waved at me from the car, right?’

She nodded. ‘You waved first.’

We laughed, the way uncertain strangers do at the slightest hint of humour. She was English enough and quite pretty in a wan sort of way. She wore no make-up and freckles sprinkled the tops of her cheeks and her nose; there was a nervous skittishness about her that was either appealing or annoying, I couldn’t be sure which.

The second man, Joby, was short and thin, and close up I noticed he was dressed less informally than the others, inasmuch as he wore a tie with his shortsleeved shirt, his trousers were sharply creased, and his shoes were brightly polished. His hairless arms projected from their sleeves like white bendy sticks and his grip was a little too tight, as if the firmness was assumed rather than natural. There was the faintest Midlands nasalization to his voice when he greeted me with, ‘Hope you like your new home.’

‘Yeah, we do,’ I said, ‘but it’ll take a while to settle in.’

‘Are you both from London?’ Kinsella asked, his tone politely interested rather than inquisitive.

‘How could you tell?’

He smiled disarmingly. ‘You have that look about you.’

‘Ducks out of water?’

‘Oh no, I didn’t mean to imply that. I just felt this was kinda new to you.’

‘Not quite for Midge – she was raised in the country. Me, I’m a novice.’

‘You’ll soon come to love it out here,’ put in the girl, Gillie. ‘I did.’

Midge tucked her arm into mine and leaned against me. ‘You know the big house we came across on our walk yesterday, Mike?’

‘Blea – the grey house?’

She nodded. ‘That’s where Hub, Gillie and Neil come from.’

‘Really? You live there? All three of you?’

‘More than three of us, Mike,’ said Kinsella.

‘What is it? A hotel, a health farm of some kind?’

‘Neither of those. Why don’t you drop by some time when you’re settled and we’ll show you around?’

‘Yes, please do,’ said Gillie, surprising us both by reaching out with both hands to touch our arms. ‘The house is beautiful inside and we’d make you so welcome. Please say you’ll come and visit.’

I was slightly taken aback with her enthusiasm, but Midge seemed pleased with the idea. ‘That would be nice,’ she told the girl. ‘We were intrigued by the place yesterday, weren’t we, Mike?’

‘Yeah, intrigued.’ I felt warning pressure from Midge’s hand on my arm. ‘Meanwhile we’ve got a small problem that needs attending to. I thought maybe you’d have some ideas as you live in these parts.’

Their expressions couldn’t have conveyed more eagerness to help. Midge was curious.

‘Bats have taken over the penthouse suite,’ I explained, pointing back towards the cottage with a thumb. Turning to Midge, I said, ‘That was what the noises were last night. They’re up in the loft now, sleeping off the party.’

‘Bats?’ she said.

‘Bats,’ I replied.

‘Oh, they’re no great problem, Mike,’ the American assured me. ‘They really won’t do any harm.’

‘Maybe not, but they make me feel uncomfortable. I’d hate to wake up one night and find them toasting each other’s health with our blood.’

They chuckled at that, although Gillie looked slightly queasy.

‘No fear of that,’ said Joby, folding insect arms across his chest. ‘They mostly hunt around dusk and dawn. I can’t imagine you’ll find many vampire bats in Hampshire, anyway. If you leave them in peace they won’t disturb you.’

‘They’re already disturbing me.’

‘Oh, come on Mike,’ said Midge. ‘They’re only like hamsters with wings.’

Her reaction – or lack of reaction – took me by surprise. I knew she adored animals, but
all
animals?

‘Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about them by law,’ Joby went on. ‘They’re a protected species, you see. Most of them have been wiped out in this country, mainly by pesticides and ignorance – people deliberately destroying them. Conservationists stepped in just in time to beg the government to act.’

‘You’re saying we can’t touch those things?’ I asked incredulously.

He bowed his head gravely. ‘Mammals, actually. They’re either the pipistrelle or the long-eared bat, depending on size – pipistrelle is the smallest.’

‘I didn’t take too close a look.’

‘The pipistrelle favours woodlands, but is quite used to residential areas, and the long-eared bat likes to sleep in caves or cellars or lofts.’

‘That sounds like our boy, then.’

‘I promise you, you’re in no danger from them. Insects and moths are what they like to eat, so they may even be doing you a favour.’

I was doubtful, but he seemed to know what he was talking about. Slowly shaking my head, I said, ‘So it looks like we’re stuck with them.’

The guy called Kinsella spoke in a conspiratorial voice: ‘Look, Mike, if it really gets to be a bad problem, maybe we can help you smoke ’em out or somethin’. No one else need know.’

‘Yeah, well, we’ll see how it goes.’

He flashed those pearlies again. ‘You know where to find us if you need any help at all, but we’d like to see you at any time.’

‘Shall I fetch the gift, Hub?’ The girl was looking up at him like a puppy-dog looks at its master.

‘Oh, sure, almost forgot.’

Gillie ducked into the open window of the car and drew out a square red biscuit tin. She held it over the gate towards Midge.

‘One of our sisters is a fantastic cook, so when we realized you’d moved into Gramarye we asked her to make you a welcoming cake,’ Gillie told us. ‘Nothing very grand, but I think you’ll enjoy it.’

‘Our small way of welcoming you to the neighbourhood,’ said Kinsella, holding his arms away from his sides as though he could hug us.

‘What a lovely thought,’ Midge enthused, accepting the gift and beaming all over her pretty face. ‘Perhaps we can invite you over once we’re straight – we’d love that, wouldn’t we, Mike?’

Kinsella cut in before I could respond. ‘You can be sure we’ll be saying hello from time to time. Once we’ve made friends we don’t like to lose ’em.’

He said that with all geniality, so I wondered why it made me feel uneasy.

‘Meanwhile,’ he went on, ‘we’ll let you get on – I’m sure there’s a lot to put right in the cottage. The previous owner was a little old to maintain the place properly, I guess.’

‘You knew Flora Chaldean?’ asked Midge.

‘Oh, most people around here knew of her,’ said Gillie.

‘But no one got to
know
her,’ said Kinsella. ‘We spoke to her a coupla times, is all. Now you just remember what I told you: any help you need, you only have to call.’

‘We’ll remember, er, Hub,’ I said. Then, ‘Is that a nickname?’

‘Short for Hubris. My folks had a sense of humour.’

Not much of one, I thought. ‘Well, good meeting you and thanks for that info on bats. Doesn’t help any, but at least I know where we stand.’

We shook hands rather formally, then the group climbed into their car, Kinsella taking the wheel. They waved from the windows as the Citroën pulled away, and we returned the waves, watching them until they had disappeared from view.

‘Weren’t they incredibly nice?’ Midge exclaimed, holding up the cake box for me to see.

‘I suppose so. A mite
too
friendly, maybe.’

‘Oh, Mike, you’re such an old cynic sometimes. They were only being neighbourly. I wish a few more people had their outlook.’

‘Yeah, but what are they, Midge? How come a mixed bunch like that is living together in a manor house? Did you notice Gillie referred to our cake-maker as sister?’

‘What difference? They probably belong to some religious organization. What does it matter as long as they’re nice people?’

I shrugged. ‘Yeah, you’re right. I felt a bit crowded, that’s all, like they were too keen to get to know us.’

‘How many times do I have to tell you: things are different in the countryside, people are friendlier. You mustn’t be so suspicious.’

‘Sorry, Midge, didn’t mean to be. Finding those bats upset my peace of mind.’

Her tone softened. ‘I can understand that. But it’s true, you know, bats really are harmless.’

‘So long as
they
know that.’

The slightest of breezes rustled the nearby trees and stirred the flowers. Midge tucked the cake tin under one arm and linked her other through mine. We strolled back to the cottage, the sun warm on our faces.

‘Let’s take a look at those monsters you’re so afraid of,’ she said coaxingly.

‘You want to go up there?’

She became indignant. ‘Of course. I can’t wait to see them.’

‘You’re full of surprises.’

‘I study wildlife, remember? I paint animals for stories. I
enjoy
watching them. Besides, these little devils may give me an idea for a future book, one I could write myself. Better yet, one you could write for me. It’s about time you put that particular talent to good use.’

‘A horror story for tiny tots? You may have something there.’

‘No, nothing like that. There isn’t anything nasty about bats anyway.’

‘You wait ’til you see ’em.’

She left the cake on the kitchen table and we went upstairs, me leading the way and muttering under my breath about the dire consequences of socializing with Dracula’s kinsmen, while Midge prodded my buttocks and gave me fair warning to quit my craven rambling.

In the attic room, my future music studio, I picked up the flashlight still lying on the chair and tapped it against the palm of my hand, confronting Midge with a sober expression.

‘You really want to go through with this . . .’ I asked darkly, ‘. . . despite knowing what happened to Pandora?’

‘Get outa here,’ she replied, poking my chest with rigid fingers and putting one foot on the chair.

‘All right, all right. I’m serious now, Midge: I honestly don’t feel like going up there again.’

‘You don’t have to – just help me up. I won’t tell all our friends.’ She struck a pose, one fist clenched against her hip, foot still on the chair. Her grin was grim. And, of course, challenging.

Groaning miserably, I pulled her away and climbed onto the chair myself. I’d closed the hatch when I’d scrambled down earlier, perhaps imagining the bats might follow me, and I said, ‘I’ll open up, then lift you through, unless you want to go get the stepladder.’

‘You’ll do.’ She folded her arms and waited.

‘Yes’m.’ I pushed at the hatch and it sucked open once more. ‘Nothing to get excited about, guys,’ I quietly called through. ‘Only the landlord come to check the air conditioning.’ Although not as nervous as before, now that I knew something about our somnolent guests, my attempt at light-hearted banter was somewhat forced.

The hatch slammed back against an upright timber as before and I ducked low at the sudden bang. I caught Midge hiding a smile behind her hand.

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’ I said grumpily, stepping down and handing her the flashlight. I made a stirrup of my hands. ‘Catch the side of the opening with one hand and put the light inside, then I’ll lift you through.’

‘My hero,’ she said, resting a foot in my hands.

I straightened and she rose easily, switching on the flashlight and placing it through the opening in almost one graceful movement, her weight no problem. Midge sat as I had, her legs dangling in space.

I scrambled up after her, using the chair and trying to make it look easy now I had an audience; she quickly moved aside to allow me room.

Once inside, I whispered, ‘See what I mean?’ The familiar smell wrinkled my nose again.

She was swinging the beam around the loft and I shuddered inwardly when I saw the black hanging shapes.

‘Oh, Mike, there aren’t that many,’ she said scornfully.

I blinked as I followed the roving light. There really didn’t seem to be as many bats as before. ‘I, uh . . . I’m sure there were more than this.’

‘I think you were so alarmed you imagined more. Even so, there must be at least thirty or forty scattered around up here.’

‘But they were crammed together last time. A lot of them must have taken flight.’

‘In broad daylight? No, the light beam must have cast their shadows so it looked like there were more.’ She patted my thigh reassuringly. ‘When you’re basically chicken, things have a way of becoming exaggerated.’ She pointed the light up under her chin, making an evil relief of her grinning face.

‘Oh that’s funny, that’s really funny. Just gimme the light, will you?’

I snatched the flashlight from her and crawled further into the loft, keeping to the joists, reluctant to have a knee go through the ceiling below. I shone the beam into the further recesses, although I couldn’t see behind the water tank; nevertheless, nothing was skulking anywhere else. Midge joined me, walking rather than crawling, making me feel even more foolish.

I stood, grabbing at a crossbeam for balance, careful not to brush against a sleeping bat. I expected to find Midge smiling mockingly at me, but she was far too intent studying one of the dangling bodies nearby.

She reached out and gently tugged at a folded wing.

‘Hey,’ I hissed, ‘what’re you doing?’

‘Shine the light over here, Mike, I’d like to get a good look at this chap.’

‘Midge, it might be dangerous. Christ, it might have rabies!’

‘Stop being such a wimp. There’s no rabies in this country. Remember what I said about hamsters with wings? Just keep thinking of them that way. Now come on, bring the light over.’

Spunky brat, I thought grudgingly, doing as I was told and treading warily on the joists. ‘Don’t blame me if you get bitten,’ I warned peevishly.

The bat twitched and tried to retract its extended wing; Midge held the wing firm. The brute’s ugly mouth opened in annoyance, revealing tiny Lugosi teeth, although it appeared not to wake. All the same, I kept my distance, stretching my arm to provide Midge with the light she wanted.

‘See the fingers?’ Her voice at least was hushed. ‘See how long the last three are? The wing is just skin between them. Look, it goes right down to the bat’s foot and tail.’

‘That’s really interesting. You think we could let him doze in peace?’