Aunt Dimity: Vampire Hunter

“I’m glad you approve,” he said.

 

The rain was still hammering down when we reached Gypsy Hollow. The lowest spots in the hollow had turned into quagmires, and the rest of the ground was so thoroughly saturated that I half expected to see mushrooms sprouting up before our eyes. Leo had evidently brought his belongings into the motor home, because there was no sign of the awning or of the furniture that had been clustered beneath it when we’d eaten lunch with him.

 

There was no sign of Leo either, and when we walked up to the motor home, we found a note taped to the door.

 

Sorry to miss you, whoever you are. I’ve gone out and I don’t know when I’ll be back. If you’re desperate, take what you need. If not, please respect my home.

 

“He must have gone to Finch,” I said. “You don’t think he walked, do you?”

 

“He has a bicycle,” Kit reminded me. “I imagine he cycled to the village in order to save petrol. I wish I’d known. I’d have given him

 

 

 

 

 

a lift.”

 

“He’ll be fine once he reaches the village,” I said confidently.

 

“Sally Pyne will give him a hot breakfast in the tearoom, and the Peacocks will let him spend the rest of the day in the pub. And Mr. Barlow will give him a lift when he decides to come back to the motor home.”

 

“You have great faith in the villagers,” Kit commented.

 

“I have great faith in the vicar,” I retorted. “He’ll skin them alive if they treat Leo the way they treated you when you were down and out.”

 

Kit fl inched as if I’d slapped him, and turned away.

 

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean to—”

 

 

 

 

 

114 Nancy Atherton

 

 

“It’s all right,” he murmured.

 

“Those days are long gone,” I pointed out, wondering what had come over him. We’d always discussed his troubled past quite openly. I’d never known him to be sensitive about it.

 

“Of course they are,” he said with a brittle sort of cheerfulness.

 

“Let’s move on, shall we?”

 

“Right,” I said, trying not to show how flustered I was. “So how do we get to Aldercot? Through the cleft between the hills?”

 

“The cleft will be a running stream by now,” said Kit.

 

He looked at me, then at the slope I’d slithered down the day before. My heart sank as I followed his gaze.

 

“You’re not suggesting that we climb the hill, are you?” I asked.

 

“There must be an easier way.”

 

“There are lots of easier ways, but imagine how awful we’ll look after we take this one,” said Kit, starting forward. “It’ll add authenticity to our story.”

 

I emitted an entirely authentic groan, tightened the straps on my day pack, and clambered up the hill as best I could. By the time I had crawled on all fours onto the familiar shelf near the top of the hill, I was gasping, red-faced, and as muddy as a wallowing warthog. Kit reached down to pull me to my feet, then stood back to survey me critically.

 

“I knew you could play the part, Lori,” he said. “But now you look like a hapless rambler.”

 

I gave him the evil eye, then raised my grimy hands and smeared mud across his beautiful face, like war paint. “There,” I said. “Now you look the part, too.”

 

Kit wiped a streak of damp clay from his lips and grinned. “Touché,” he said. “You’ll be happy to know that it’s all downhill from here, on a well-drained and gently sloping trail.”

 

He led the way around the shoulder of the hill to the ledge on which he’d discovered Rendor’s most suggestive boot print, then paused to gaze down at the valley below. Shredded wisps of river Aunt Dimity: Vampire Hunter

 

115

 

mist curled sinuously through the dense grove of trees that concealed Aldercot Hall.

 

“Look,” I said, pointing to a patch of open ground to the right of the grove. “The family cemetery.”

 

“So it is,” said Kit.

 

A border of stately yew trees delineated the graveyard, in which smaller headstones surrounded a boxy white tomb.

 

“There aren’t many graves,” I noted nervously.

 

“There may be some we can’t see from up here,” said Kit. “And the mausoleum may contain the remains of more than one family member.”

 

If I were Lizzie Black, I thought, I’d argue that there aren’t many graves because the vampires who live at Aldercot Hall are virtually immortal. Since I’m Lori Shepherd, however, I’ll go with Kit’s explanation and hope to high heaven he’s right.