Читать книгу Volumes 5 and 6 - Blood Beast/Demon Apocalypse - Darren Shan - Страница 10

→Dervish has to go away for a couple of days. “Meera’s heading off for pastures distant, might not be back this way for several months, wants to say goodbye in style.”

“‘In style’?” I smirk. Meera Flame is one of Dervish’s closest friends. Definitely his sexiest. She’s hotter than a hot dog that’s been cooked extra HOT! “Are you and Meera finally going to get it on?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Dervish snorts. “We’re just friends. You know that.”

“That’s what you always tell me…” I tease.

“Well,” Dervish huffs, “it’s true. I’ve never made a pass at her and I don’t intend to start now.”

“Why not?” I ask, genuinely interested.

Dervish pulls a saintly expression. “Grubbs,” he says softly. “Remember when I told you that your dad was Bill-E’s dad too?”

“Yes…” Warily.

“What I didn’t tell you was that your mother… well, the woman you thought of as your mum only met your dad after you were born. Meera…” He stops.

I gawp at him, head pounding, limbs trembling. My world starts to explode.

Then I catch his grin.

“You son of a jackal!” I roar, swatting him around his balding head. “That wasn’t funny.”

“Oh, it so was,” he laughs, wiping away tears.

Most of the time I get a kick out of Dervish’s warped sense of humour. But there are other times when it really gets up my nose.

“Keep it up,” I growl. “Maybe I’ll tell Misery Mauch about you. I doubt if he’d see the funny side of a sick joke like that. Wouldn’t surprise me if he took me out of your custody and put me some place where the people are halfway normal.”

“If only,” Dervish sighs, then squints at me. “I don’t want to lay it on heavy, but I’ve something to say and I want you to pay attention.”

“What now?” I ask with a sulky sneer. “Ma and Pa Spleen are my grandparents? Misery Mauch is your long-lost brother?”

“This house has been wrecked once already,” Dervish says. “I don’t want it destroyed again. Keep your freakish little friends under as much control as you can. A certain amount of wear-and-tear is unavoidable, I accept that, but they’ll only run wild if you let them. Lay down the law and they won’t cause too much damage. And for heaven’s sake, don’t let any of them into my study. Remember that it’s guarded by spells, so if anyone wanders in there uninvited…”

“What are you babbling about?” I snap. I hate when he starts on a spiel without making it clear what the subject is.

Dervish frowns. “A bit slow today, aren’t you?”

“What?” I roar impatiently.

“I’m going away.” He raps my head with his knuckles. “You’ll have the house to yourself.” He raps it again. “It’s the weekend.”

He goes to rap my head a third time. I catch his hand in mid-air, my face lighting up with a smile as I finally get it. At the exact same moment we exclaim, me excitedly, Dervish sarcastically—

“Paaarteeeeeee!”

→Strip poker,” Frank says earnestly. “It’s a must.”

“Hey!” Loch barks. “My sister will be there.”

“So we’ll wait till she sneaks off with Grubbs, then… ba-bumba!”

Everybody laughs, even Loch.

“Have you told the girls yet?” Charlie asks.

“No. I wanted to discuss it with you lot first, get some ideas, like how many people to invite, should I have a theme, if –”

“Theme?” Loch snorts. “This isn’t a fancy dress party, fool!”

“I wouldn’t invite too many,” Leon says, a worried look on his face. “I made that mistake once. Had just about the whole school back to my place while my parents were away skiing. I did what I could to clean up the next day but it was impossible.”

“Yeah,” Frank nods. “This is your first party. You don’t want to blow it by taking on more than you can handle.”

“Especially since there’s so much opportunity for the future,” Loch agrees. “That mansion could be highly valuable over the next few years. Loads of rooms – loads of bedrooms – and an uncle who knows the score… It’s a goldmine. But we’ve got to tread carefully. If we trash the house now, Dervish might never leave you alone again.”

The discussion continues. Everyone – Loch, Frank, Charlie, Leon and Robbie – chips in with their own ideas. Music, food, drink, the guest list… each is debated at great length. But the guest list is the one we keep coming back to, the topic that creates the most divisions.

“Two girls to each guy,” Frank insists. “If not three.”

“Nah,” Robbie grunts. “Equal numbers or else they’ll gang up on us.”

“What do you care?” Leon challenges him. “You only have eyes for Mary.”

Robbie winks. “A lot can happen at a party.”

Out of the blue, Charlie shouts, “Jelly beans. You’ve got to have jelly beans. Plates of them everywhere.”

“You’re a bloody jelly bean!” Loch roars as we fall apart in tears of laughter.

“What are you hyenas splitting your sides about now?” Reni asks, appearing on the scene without warning, Shannon by her side.

“We’re –” Charlie starts.

Loch elbows him and nods sharply at me—my party, my news.

“Dervish is away this weekend,” I tell Reni, wishing my heart wouldn’t throb so loudly—I’m sure she can hear it. “I’m having a party.”

“Great,” Reni smiles. “I hope we’re invited?”

“Of course,” I say miles too quickly. Then, aiming for cool, “But don’t tell anyone. I want to keep it exclusive—just a select handful of my more discerning acquaintances.”

“Nice,” Reni says and strides away, sharing a giggle with Shannon.

“‘More discerning acquaintances’,” Leon mimics as the others poke me in the ribs and make cat-calls. “You’re full of it sometimes, Grady.”

→Word spreads quickly about the party. I’ve never been so popular, surrounded at the start and end of classes, pumped for details, besieged with requests for an invite. I think the location of the party is as much a draw as anything else. Everyone in the Vale knows about the spooky old mansion where I live but most have never been inside.

At lunch I’m faced with a steady stream of party-hungry teens, all in search of a golden ticket. I feel like a king, hearing petitions, flanked by my royal advisors (Loch and co). I play it icy at Loch’s advice, saying numbers are limited, I can only invite a select few. I don’t say an absolute no to anyone and promise to take all requests into consideration.

So I’m a poser. So sue me.

→Just before the bell rings for class, my last petitioner approaches. Bill-E. He’s smiling awkwardly, even more so than usual. “Hi Grubbs.”

“Hi.”

“How’s tricks, Spleenio?” Loch says, putting out his hand. I groan as Bill-E falls for the trick again, makes to shake and is humiliated when Loch whips his hand away. “Sucker!”

I don’t wait for Bill-E or Loch to say anything else. “Have you heard about the party?” I ask quickly.

“Yeah,” Bill-E says. “I know I was supposed to come over this weekend, but –”

“You’re not going to back out, are you?” I cut him short. “C’mon, Bill-E, this is my first party. I need you there for moral support.”

A rosy glow of happiness spreads outwards from the centre of the chubby boy’s cheeks. “You want me to come?” he asks quietly, half-suspecting a cruel joke.

“Of course,” I say firmly. “In fact, if you don’t, the party’s off.”

“Now hold on a minute…” Loch begins, startled.

“I mean it,” I silence him, eyes on Bill-E, trying to put right at least some of the wrong things between us.

“Well… I mean… I guess… OK,” Bill-E grins. “Sure. Why not?”

“Great.” I raise a warning finger. “But don’t tell Ma and Pa Spleen it’s a party or they’ll never let you come.”

“No sheet, Sherlock!” Bill-E laughs and heads off, much happier than I’ve seen him in a long while.

→Dervish is getting ready to leave. In his leathers, pulling the straps out of his helmet. His motorcycle’s outside the front door, primed to go. “Is the party tonight or tomorrow?” he asks.

“Tomorrow. Too awkward for people to come tonight. Plus it gives me time to go shopping in the Vale in the morning.”

“You know I’ll be back early Sunday afternoon,” he reminds me.

“I know.”

“If I walk in and find pools of puke and mountains of rubbish…”

“You won’t,” I assure him. “There aren’t many coming, and a few are sleeping over to help clean up in the morning. The only thing is, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do all the laundry before you return.”

“That’s fine,” Dervish says, then raises an eyebrow. “Those staying over are all boys, I presume?”

“Of course.”

“They’d better be. Because if I find out otherwise…”

“You won’t.”

“Good.”

The pair of massive front doors are already open. Dervish walks out, breathing in fresh spring air. “It’s supposed to be cold over the weekend,” he says. “Don’t leave the windows open or the house will be freezing.”

“I have everything in hand,” I tell him.

“I doubt it.” He climbs on to his bike.

“Say hi to Meera from me.”

“Sure.”

“Give her a kiss from me too.”

“Funny guy.” Then without a goodbye he’s off, tearing down the driveway, already approaching the speed limit—and he’s only warming up. If everyone drove like my maniac of an uncle, the roads would be awash with blood.

→This isn’t the first time Dervish has left me alone in the house, but it’s the first time he’s left me in total control. Before, the understanding was always that I was simply holding the fort. No parties. This time he’s as good as said the house is mine for the next forty-odd hours, to do with as I wish.

It feels strange. I find myself thinking of everything that could go wrong—broken windows, smashed vases, someone stumbling into Dervish’s study and turning into a frog. I half wish I could cancel. I’ve been to a couple of wild parties with Loch over the last few months and never worried about what we were doing, the mess we were making, what would happen to the kids who lived there when their parents returned. Now the shoe’s on my foot, I realise what a risky undertaking it is. Maybe I should pull a sickie and call the whole thing off.

The phone rings. Loch. It’s as if he’s sensed my wavering mood and is intervening to sway me back into party mode. “Has Dervish gone?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Good. I didn’t want to discuss it at school – too many ears – but what about booze? Yay or nay?”

“That might be a bit much,” I mutter. “Things will probably be wild enough if everyone’s sober.”

“Yeah, it’ll be wilder if everyone’s drunk,” Loch laughs, “but a lot more fun! I was thinking about all those bottles of wine in the cellar…”

“No way,” I snap. “Most are expensive. Very expensive. Nobody goes near the wine. That’s a golden rule. If anyone breaks it, I’ll kick you all out.”

“Spoilsport,” Loch grumbles. “Well, what about beer? I could ask one of my older cousins to get us a crate or two.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“You’re not wimping out, are you?” he asks suspiciously.

“Well…” I start.

“Good,” Loch says quickly. “Let’s forget about the booze then. If anybody brings some, great. If not, we’ll just muddle by sober. Fair enough?”

“Yeah,” I say unhappily. “I guess.”

“Great. See you in the morning. Oh, and I’ll be bringing Reni, to help carry the bags. Is that OK?”

“Sure,” I say, spirits lifting, instantly forgetting about my reservations. “That’ll be… fine. Yeah. Whatever.”

A short laugh, then Loch hangs up, leaving me to get on with the planning of the party.

→Loch, Reni and I make three runs to the village. Frank and Leon join us on the last run, when we realise we need more hands. It’s brilliant spending so much time with Reni, walking beside her in and out of Carcery Vale, discussing the party, bands, politics… whatever she feels like talking about.

Loch offers to chip in with some money for the drinks and food, but I tell him it’s OK. Dervish is rich – there’s a family fortune knocking about which will one day be mine and Bill-E’s – and he never begrudges me anything. He left a wad of cash for me in his study and told me to make good use of it.

Reni does a lot of the organising. I spent a couple of hours last night drawing up a list of everything we might need and was more than a little pleased with myself. She took one look at the list this morning, laughed and tore it up. “Is Jesus coming?” she asked.

“Uh… no,” I replied, astonished.

“Then forget about the loaves and fishes miracle. What you had on that list wouldn’t have got us through to nine o’clock. Now, fetch me a fresh pad and pen—this needs a woman’s considered touch.”

Much as I hate to admit it, she was right. Carrying the supplies back from Carcery Vale, it feels like we’ve bought far too much—we could feed the starving millions with this lot. But by the time we’ve divided it out into plates and bowls, and distributed them around the three main party rooms – two big living rooms and the kitchen – there doesn’t look to be a whole load.

“Maybe we need to make another run,” Frank muses, opening a bag of crisps.

“Maybe you need to stop snacking before anyone arrives,” Reni retorts, grabbing the bag from him. “No,” she says, casting a professional eye around. “This will do. Any more would be a waste.” She checks her watch. “I’m going home to get ready. And you boys…” She wrinkles her nose and pulls a face. “Ever heard of showers?”

She leaves. I look around at Loch, Frank and Leon. They stare back. Then we all raise an arm and sniff.