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
'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 till 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?'
'And look at his furry little body. He's a cute little feller.'
'Cute! He's as ugly as sin!' I instantly regretted raising my voice as the fine membranes over the bat's tiny eyes quivered open for a second.
'He's offended,' observed Midge.
'He'll have to live with it. Look at that horrible squashed-up nose and pointy ears.' I made a disgusted noise.
'That's his radar around the nose.'
'It doesn't help cosmetically. Can we go down now, Midge? We may have to cohabit with these hanging prunes, but we don't have to fraternize with them.'
She let the wing fold back inward, then squeezed the flesh above my hip. 'I didn't know you were so allergic.'
'To be honest, neither did I. I've just got a funny feeling about them—can't help it.'
'At least you know there aren't as many as you first thought.'
'I could've sworn . . . No matter, the shock must have made me see double.'
'Or treble. Let's get down to where the air's sweeter.'
We held hands crossing the joists and I stood with legs across the hatchway to lower Midge onto the chair below. With one last look around, I dropped the flashlight into her waiting hands and eased myself through, balancing on the chair to catch the side of the hatch and close it after me. This time the wood was lowered into place with less panic.
I hopped to the floor and slapped dust off my hands, glad to be out of the gloom. By then, Midge had gone over to one of the small windows in the attic and was trying to open it.
'I thought I'd let some air circulate up here,' she said over her shoulder, 'but this window's stuck.'
I joined her. 'Might be paint on the outside. The builders should have left the windows open till they were dry. Here, let me have a go.'
Before I could give the sash on one half of the double-window a good thump, Midge held my arm.
'Do the bats really bother you, Mike? You know, we can always do as Hub suggested and find a way of getting rid of them without anyone knowing.'
I gazed at her steadily. 'You wouldn't like that very much, would you?'
'I don't like the idea of them spoiling Gramarye for you. It's more important to me that you're happy here, so if it's a choice between that and the bats staying, then they're the losers.'
We touched foreheads briefly. 'You're probably right,' I said, 'they'll be no trouble at all.' I turned back to the
