THE VAMPIRE AND I

TEN

Thousands of miles away from where Victoria and her friends were assumedly preparing for the Friday’s party, Sarah sat on the windowsill in her brown coloured bedroom smoking a cigarette and looking at the vast trees. Rebecca was also in the room with her drinking from a bottle of Scotch that was on a glass table beside her. She had her legs stretched on the white wooden table and her laptop on her laps while sat on a matching white sofa. She was chatting away furiously with her pen pals, all of whom her mother won’t allow her to see. Her dirty blonde hair was packed in a messy bun. She was still in her satin green night wear. 

“I miss Paul,” said Sarah solemnly from the big window that overlooked the flower part of the garden. Her eyes were glued to the world outside, her black hair flowing freely at her back. She took a puff from her cigar again. 

Rebecca sighed, “So do I. If he were here, mother would be fine, he always knew the right buttons to press.” 

“She has Morgan,” Sarah said as an attempt at a joke. Her blue night gown was so thin you’d think she’d be freezing but she didn’t seem to feel the cold air rushing in through the window. 

Rebecca dismissed it with a quick wave of her hand before going back to typing, “Morgan isn’t Paul.” 

“I never said he was,” said Sarah slightly irritated. Rebecca sometimes blew things out of proportion. 

Silence ensued as neither of them said anything to each other. Sarah seemed to have had enough of the view, she stepped down, threw the cigar out and closed the window. 

“Is that my Scotch?” asked Saran in an angry tone. 

“Isn’t what is yours mine and vice versa?” asked Rebecca. She was engrossed in her laptop and therefore was oblivious to her sister’s anger. 

“No. No. No. No. No. I had the servants smuggle that in for me and when I asked you if you wanted some, you said no.” 

“I didn’t want it at the time,” said Rebecca, matter of fact as she continued to type. 

“You do not have a right to want my property at your own convenience.” 

Rebecca sensing finally that something was wrong took a break from her laptop and looked at her sister, “What is wrong with you?” 

“How do you mean?” Sarah asked irritated. She shook her head, “Do not change the subject of conversation, Becca.” 

Rebecca smiled wryly, “You only call me Becca when you are in trouble and you want my advice.” 

Sarah scoffed, “You wish.” she picked up the bottle, closed it and returned it to its hiding place under a loose board in the dark wooden floor. Their mother would whip her to death if she was caught with it. Her mother can be overbearing at times. 

“You won’t tell me?” 

“I have nothing to say,” Sarah smoothened her purple bedsheet avoiding her sister’s gaze. 

Rebecca was about to say something when the door flew open. A dark male servant came into the room wearing only a dark green short, he had a white shirt in his left hand. His hard firm hairless chest seemed to have been dipped in oil; it was shining as bright as it could in the light of the morning sun. 

He halted in his tracks as he surveyed the room with his stormy grey eyes. Sarah’s mouth was opened and her eyes expressed shock. Her face was as red as a beetroot.  she was standing as though her feet were stuck to the floor. When the servant saw Rebecca, who was confused at the scene that was happening right in front of her, he quickly thought of something to say. 

“I thought I heard something,” he managed to say. 

Sarah cleared her throat and regained some composure, “It was not in this room.” 

He nodded, “I can see,” he turned to Rebecca, “Pardon me Miss,” and turned to leave. 

“Hold on,” Rebecca called. As he turned back to her, she could see the looks that passed between her sister and the unknown servant. 

“What is your name?” she asked him. He passed a look to Sarah again, who this time avoided the look. 

“Andrew.” 

"Andrew," Rebecca repeated. “What do you do, Andrew?” 

“I cook, Miss.” 

“What type of food do you cook?” 

“For heaven's sake, stop asking him ridiculous questions and let him go back to the kitchen or whatever he was doing,” said Sarah in annoyance from where she had gone to stand by the window again. 

Rebecca turned her face to her sister, “I can’t do that. He could be a spy or a killer. You do know that we are at war, don’t you?” she asked rhetorically. She turned back to Andrew, “What is a cook doing up here half naked and hearing things?” 

Andrews seemed to have regained his cool because his voice was calm and collected, “I brought the Young Master Tim his meal and he told me to increase the heat from the furnace. I removed my clothes to do so and, on my way back, I heard a noise, I couldn’t wear back the shirt because I was rushing here,” he explained. 

Sarah had lit up another cigarette, something she does when she was anxious or nervous or in a bad situation. She looked at Andrew again and shook her head. What the heck was he doing coming to her room without checking if anyone else was there?  

“I must say you look fit for someone who works in the kitchen,” Rebecca was saying. Andrew just stood there looking like he had been sentenced to death by fire. 

Sarah who had it up to here with Rebecca’s needless chattering and ridiculous questions put the cigarette off and said, “Get out of here, Andrew. Your master must be looking for you.” 

Andrew looked at Rebecca for a very much needed confirmation. She nodded for him to go and he disappeared as dramatically as he has appeared though in silence this time. 

A cloud of silence engulfed the room in the wake of Andrew’s leave. Rebecca stood up and made a show of closing her laptop and wrapping a matching a green satin robe around her. She headed to the door as if to leave, she locked the door and turned to her sister with a very serious look on her face. 

“Tell me what is going on here, Sarah.” 

Sarah sighed and put out her cigar. She turned away from the window and sat down on the dressing chair. She picked a brush and started to brush her hair in slow and lazy strokes. Rebecca watched her face through the mirror. Years of living with her twin sister had taught her patience, Sarah will c***k.  

Finally, after something like an eternity had passed, Sarah put the brush down. “I am pregnant.” 

Rebecca’s shock was written all over face, her eyes bulged out, her mouth opened and closed at attempts at half speeches. “What?” she said when she could finally say something. 

Sarah stood and walked around the room, “Yes. I am pregnant.” 

“And Andrew is the father?” asked Rebecca. She had calmed down; if they need to get this situation under control, it must be done with calmness. 

Sarah shrugged, “Well, he is the only one I have been sleeping with.” 

Rebecca sighed, “How did you even start sleeping with-. Don't answer that.” 

“Not planning to,” murmured Sarah. 

Rebecca looked at her twin, “Are you even concerned about this at all?” 

“I am. Look,” she dragged her sister to the bed. “I will abort it.” 

“Of course, you will. But how? Mother never allows us leave this house.” 

 “Morgan.” 

“Morgan?” 

“Yes, Morgan. Mother let him leaves anytime he wishes. If we can persuade him, he can take us along anytime he goes out.” 

“Um, Sarah, we haven’t talked to Morgan in forever.” 

“I know, but if we start now, we can convince him before the next three months. I am just a month gone now; I won’t probably be showing before then.” 

Rebecca decided not to point out all that could go wrong, “What is your second plan?” 

Sarh beamed, “Andrew said there are secret tunnels in the house leading outside the building. He found one but does not know where it leads yet.” 

“We can just bribe the guards. Mother travels for a week every day. If we bribe the right one, we can go and come back before anyone knows.” 

“I don’t know. I feel so helpless.” 

“That’s why you have me,” Rebecca hugged her. “Now, you tell me how you met that Andrew.” 

Sarah laughed, “I thought you didn’t want to know.” 

“Girl, I changed my mind.” 

“Jennifer!!!” someone called from the door. 

Victoria stirred from her sleep and stretched, “Who is it?”  

“Andrea. Open the door, Jen!” 

“Jeez, calm your ass,” said Jennifer who was already up. She was in her dress robe and couldn’t stand to open the door, she threw Victoria a pleading look. Victoria shook her head but got out of bed in her white pyjamas short and baby blue tank top. She had the most uneventful night ever in the last three months, excluding the fact that Mike Williams was terrorising her dreams. She opened the door for an impatient Andrea who barged in like she owned the place. 

“How can we help you Andrea?” said Jennifer coolly. 

“My boyfriend can’t go to the party tonight. He has something to do,” she said while smacking gum with her small mouth. Her black and pink hair sat perfect on her head. Her eyes were heavily mascaraed, her lips painted a light shade of red and she looked good. Victoria knew if she ever dressed like that, she would be in the Guiness book of ridiculousness.    

Victoria sat on her bed cross-legged, “I am sorry.” 

Andrea waved her hands, “He is lying. He is taking Kate.” 

“Who is Kate?” asked Victoria. 

“His second girlfriend.” 

“Wait a minute,” said Jennifer confused. “Your boyfriend has two girlfriends.” 

“No. He has four.” Jennifer and Victoria exchanged looks. “And he told all of us the same thing. He is not the type to miss parties. This can only mean he is taking another girl. We have to find her.” 

“We?” Victoria asked. 

“Not you guys. The other girls and I.” 

“Why did you come here then?” 

“To change my dress, he already knows what I am going to wear and I don’t want him to spot me. I want a shiny black top; do you have one here?” 

“I might. You pay double.” 

“You are such a scam.” 

“I know, love,” Jennifer said and blew her a kiss. 

Jennifer threw a pleading look at Victoria again. She sighed and went to get the top.  

“Just out of curiosity, who is this boyfriend of yours?” Victoria asked as Andrea got to the door. 

“No biggie. It’s Mike Williams,” she answered and exited the room. 

Jennifer gave Victoria a wide-eyed look, “Are you sure she didn’t say Mark?” 

“You and I both know she didn’t say that.” 

“It might be a misunderstanding,” reasoned Jennifer trying to make her friend feel less bad. 

“I was sleeping,” dismissed Victoria as she got back into the bed and covered herself with the sheets. Jennifer decided to keep quiet for now. She would talk to her after she had calmed down. 

“You know, I find it strange that there are no classes today,” said Irene as she entered into the room some few minutes later. 

“And that there is silence in this room,” added Amanda. “Where are those party hungry females?” 

“It is an evening party, give it a couple of hours.” 

“Good morning to you too, Irene.” 

“Hi Jen. What are you doing dressing up this early?” 

“The party host contacted me; she wants me to dress her up.” 

“It’s a woman?” asked Amanda. 

“Sure sounded like one when we spoke on the phone,” she stood up and went to her wardrobe. “It is time to put all my years of training you into use. You will be doing my work for me today.” 

“Will we be collecting the money for ourselves?” asked Irene. 

 “Don’t answer that. You are such a glutton,” Amanda said to Irene. “Why is Victoria still sleeping?” 

“I am pretty sure she is not sleeping,” piped Jennifer. 

“So why are you not up?” Irene shook Victoria. “Wake up.” 

Victoria rolled around a while and sat up, “I dreamt about him, you know.” 

“Who? Jason?” asked Amanda. 

“Mike.” 

“So you didn’t want to wake up because you were dreaming of Mike? Did he put charm you that much?” Irene asked. 

Victoria moaned and fell back into the bed again; she covered her face with the sheets. 

“Jennifer,” called Amanda. “Please explain.” 

“Well, Andrea came in this morning asking for a shiny black top.” 

“Andrea. Pink hair Andrea?” interrupted Irene. 

“Yes. Turns out she has a boyfriend,” Jennifer paused for a moment. “Mike.” 

“What?!” exclaimed Irene. “That’s impossible.” 

“Well, it certainly seems it is. The breaking point is that Mike has three other girlfriends apart from Andrea.” 

“Did you ask her to describe her Mike?” 

“No.” 

“So it might not be him. I know him okay? It can’t be him.” 

Victoria threw the sheets away and sat up, “It doesn’t mean. I don’t care. Why should I? I am going to have fun at that party tonight and go home with a handsome guy. Then, I will go out with him on the dinner date and eat dinner whilst texting the other guy. You know, give him a taste of his own medicine.”   

“Perhaps, you should go back to sleep,” advised Amanda. 

“Perhaps But what if it was Robert?” Amanda was about to answer when Victoria shut her up with a “Do not say ‘I told you so’. I am not in the mood to hear it.” 

Amanda closed her mouth and opened it again, “If it was Robert, I would fry him alive without asking for his explanation.” 

“Ignore Amanda,” argued Irene. “Let the man say his piece. As I have said, it is probably a misunderstanding.” 

Jennifer had finally finished dressing. She wore a nice blue gown with strapless heels and a string of pearls. She looked professional. “I will see you at the party and if the job does become overwhelming, do not quit.” 

“You are such a hard ass.” 

She carried her purse and headed to leave. 

“No toolbox?” Victoria asked. 

Jennifer shrugged, “She told me not to come with one.”  

“Bye then.” 

“Be good girls.”