The Phredde Collection by Jackie French

They put me back into safety. And they stayed out to die.’
    We stood there silently, Mrs Olsen perched on the wall and me beside her. Finally I said: ‘What happened then?’
    ‘I came out of my coffin the next night. I looked, of course, but there was no sign of my family. That is what happens if a vampire has to face the sunlight. They simply fade away…
    ‘I couldn’t stay there, not knowing if the villagers might come again. Not where we’d been so happy. So I took my coffin and as much as I could carry of the family gold, which had been kept hidden under the kitchen flagstones, and loaded them on a donkey and set out through the night.
    ‘I hid in barns, but barns are never safe. Who knows when an animal might discover you in daylight and moo or neigh and call someone to see? I hid in caves.
    ‘And finally I came to the sea. And there was a ship. I thought, no matter where it goes it can’t be as bad as what I have left behind. So when the next night came I took some gold and bought a passage from the Captain. I bought a ship’s trunk and loaded my coffin into it. And the next day I sailed.
    ‘I said I was seasick so no one would wonder why I hardly ever came out of my cabin during the day. I had some food with me, but not enough. Six months it took. A vampire can go a long time without food, but I was tempted—those lovely, lovely necks. But then I thought of Boris and said, No, I will never be like that. I would rather starve than be like that.
    ‘So I came to Australia. And it was easier. Most people in those days had never heard of vampires, not so far from Transylvania and Ruritania. I worked as a barmaid. A barmaid is a good job when you are only able to work at night. Later on, I went to night school and took evening courses at the University. I became a teacher, and a year ago, as you know, I was even able to admit, right out in public, that I was a vampire and work in the daylight with my coffin with me.’
    ‘When did you get married?’ I asked.
    The bat smiled. It was a lovely smile, especially for a bat. ‘Only a hundred and fifty years ago. A little more. We have two children. One is nearly a hundred and ten—that’s a teenager for a vampire. And the other only sixty-four.’
    ‘Is…is that the reason you don’t want a birthday party?’ I asked. ‘Because of all your memories?’
    ‘No. Oh, no,’ said Mrs Olsen. She hesitated. ‘Oh, I must tell someone! It is my husband. You see he doesn’t know.’
    ‘Doesn’t know you are a vampire?’
    ‘No—he doesn’t know I am 400! He thinks I am only three and a half centuries old, just like him. How can I tell him?’
    ‘Natasha!’ said a voice behind us.
    We turned. It was a bat. Another bat; a bigger bat.
    It was perched on the wall just behind us. It must have landed while Mrs Olsen was speaking.
    ‘As though that matters!’ cried the bat. ‘As though it…’ he was suddenly squeaking in bat talk, and Mrs Olsen was squeaking back and they were fluttering around the tower again, and even though they were bats and I was a human, I could tell that Mr Olsen didn’t care less how old his wife was.
    I went back inside and rang up Phredde. ‘Hey, it’s me,’ I said. ‘You know what? I think we need to organise a birthday party for Mrs Olsen!’
    Well, I suppose it’s not often you organise a birthday party for your teacher, but then, how often does your teacher turn 400?
    The question was, what should we give her?
    ‘Chocolates,’ announced Edwin.
    ‘What would a vampire want with chocolates?’ I objected. ‘Vampires only drink blood.’
    ‘I know,’ said Edwin smugly. ‘That’s why she’d have to share them with us.’
    ‘A bunch of flowers,’ offered Amelia. ‘My mum really loves roses.’
    ‘Great one, Amelia,’ I said. ‘Flowers wilt as soon as a vampire touches them. Don’t you know anything? You’ll be suggesting we give her a mirror next.’
    ‘I know a lot more than…’ began Amelia, when Phredde