Suddenly it occurred to her how awkward she felt being in a police station, a place she had never even been in while she was alive. Its otherness highlighted the distance that now existed between her and the living by bringing to her attention the fact that the institutions and rules that were once supposed to protect her were more likely to be directed against her if her true nature were to become known. The woman officer behind the counter looked up and inspected Amanda, who was still standing just in front of the entrance, staring into space. With her sense of alienation heavy upon her, Amanda had to force herself to snap out of her thoughts after catching sight of the officer, who was now clearly more than a little suspicious of the vampire. Amanda forced a smile to form on her lips and then backed out of the station. For a moment on the pavement outside, she gave in to the sense of loss she had discovered at being so dislocated from the living, before castigating herself for being so foolish as to wander into a police station.
Perhaps the deputy had been right to warn her to be cautious, she thought. Perhaps there was a chance that she could end up saying or doing something that could lead someone from the town back to the school. She glanced around just a little too quickly to see if anyone was looking at her, only to then realise how suspicious she was being: she needed to get a grip. Seeing the living as another form of being, one that could be truly dangerous, was one of the reasons that led many down into the Tunnels, somewhere Amanda was sure she did not want to go. So, she pushed away any further thought on the matter and, after opening up her umbrella once again, focused instead on what would be her next destination.
***
Mary threw on her sky blue, silk dressing gown over the nighty she was wearing and muttered to herself under her breath about having to deal with the annoyance of someone knocking on her front door. She fully expected the culprit to be the pesky blonde girl who had disturbed her a couple of days before, so after she opened up the door, she was more than a little taken aback to find the handsome figure and smiling brown eyes of Samuel Packard staring at her.
“Ah, Mrs O’Hare. So good to see you,” said Packard before making his way past the slightly stunned figure of Mary and wandering into her front room.
When Mary finally plucked up the courage to follow Packard into what she thought of as the visitors’ room, she found him sitting in the murky light, the heavy beige curtains still being drawn, on a brown armchair that made up the smallest part of the room’s three-piece suite. She cautiously positioned herself on the edge of one of the couch seats that was furthest away from her unexpected visitor and lit a cigarette.
“Mrs O’Hare, that’s a filthy habit! But I can’t say it will be the death of you, I suppose.”
Mary glanced up for a moment to look into the face of Packard and then stubbed out her cigarette in the yellowing plastic ashtray that was resting on the arm of the couch.
“It’s so nice to see you again, Mary. What’s it been, five or so months since I saw you last?”
Mary made a whimper of a reply and nervously rubbed at the nicotine stains on the index and middle fingers of her right hand. Packard watched her intently, waiting for the woman to finally get over the dismal lack of will and character he believed her to possess to build up sufficient nerve to speak.
“What do you want? Look, I’ve got things to do,” she managed finally, in a shrill and quavering voice.
“Why, Mary, I hope I’m not imposing. I wouldn’t want to disturb you, or anyone else, here in your own home. I’m only here as I’m concerned. A couple of things have cropped up in our little town and if they are not attended to with the right approach, I dare say we will all come to regret it.”
“The girl,” replied Mary as a matter of fact.
“Ah, so she’s already paid you a visit?”
“She came here the other day asking all sorts of silly questions. And in that outfit she was wearing. I had to get rid of her as quickly as I could. Who knows what the neighbours would think!”
“Quite,” said Packard while languidly brushing fragments of ash off of his tweed jacket after discovering Mary’s armchair was not so clean as he would like. “Well, you’ll agree with me then when I say I think it’s troubling that the school has sent this girl to poke her nose in our business. I for one know I have done nothing to bring the school’s attention here to Radcliff, so I don’t see why they should come and bother me. And it’s all because whoever was involved in that nasty, messy and all too disturbing affair with that boy has no sense. Why, for instance, if they were so desperate for blood did they not come to me? I have enough to share with those who would share with me: everyone knows that in this town. This surely means that if the culprit was someone from Radcliff, they must have not really known what they were doing.”
“It must have been someone from out of town, I’m sure of it,” added Mary.
“Ah, do you know something? That would be excellent, then we can inform the girl.”
“Well, no, it’s not that,” said Mary, backtracking. “It’s
