The Mammoth Book Of Vampire Stories Written By Women

Up in his room, after he did his homework, Andrew sat in his window staring down at the nailer's cottage. Growing up, he often sat there, wondering what the street looked like 200 years before when the nailer was busy making his nails and the smoke from his furnace curled upwards, meeting the clouds. Were mothers and their sons walking by telling their boys about how their fathers worked in the building trade, and needed the nails? How the nailer had no competition, therefore had a grand house up on the hill near the Lutheran church? Did the sons grow up wanting to be a nailer and have grand houses?

Was one of those boys the great-great-granddad to his own father, whom he'd never met? What did his father do now? Was he a builder, a sales clerk, or a doctor? His mother told Andrew little about him. Aunt Molly, well, she had told him all he knew now.

"Don't you dare tell your mum I've told you about him. She'd have a fit. You still want to know?"

"Yes, Auntie. Please." He was about six, or maybe he'd been five.

"Well, his name was William, but your mum called him Will. She didn't know when she met him that he was married, but he turned out to be the husband of a very wealthy woman on Jersey. Her parents were very very rich and they all lived in a palace of a house. Of course, Will told your mum he was miserable, no one in his wife's family respected him and expected that he continue the family business, which had him on the road five days a week. He'd once loved his wife a lot, but she wouldn't have children because it would ruin her figure. She was evidently very vain.

"Your mum was far prettier ten years ago than she is now, and Will fell deeply and quickly in love with her. I believe that. Your mum was cautious, only then because she knew he travelled a lot and she wanted someone closer. He did what he could to stay close to Belper for almost a month, but then his wife's family got suspicious and he disappeared. He wrote to me once. I was married to your Uncle Phillip, then. He asked me to tell Bernadette that he would never forget her. That she'd made him happier than he'd ever known, but he was married. He explained his entire situation to me, but I thought it best that it all remain a mystery. I told your mum I thought he was probably married and a cad and to leave it at that. A month later, she realized that you were on your way.

"She was extremely hurt by Will abandoning her. When your Uncle Phillip died suddenly and left me with huge debts, your mum and I found we needed each other too much to dwell on any one betrayal or loss. We agreed that you would be the one thing that made up for it all. And you have. One day, when you're all grown up, we'll see if we can find your father."

Andrew thought about that every time his mother beat him.

It was with his father that she was truly angry. But he could never say that. That would betray his auntie's confidence. And that confidence had given him all there was of his father. It was too precious to let go.

The next day, it rained. The class stayed inside instead of going out to the playground. Frank did not attempt to talk to Andrew, nor did he acknowledge Andrew when he tried to speak with him. One of the girls who fancied Andrew, thrilled by the fact that there was no one to take Andrew away, flirted with him, completely embarrassing him. Andrew's fleeting attempts at attracting attention, praying someone would save him, went unseen. When she told him she'd like to be his girlfriend, he mumbled something about his mother not allowing him to have girlfriends and bolted.

At the bottom of Green Street he saw the tall, thin figure of a man, his face covered by an umbrella, standing across from his home. Andrew knew it was the old man even before he turned to look at him. He continued to walk up the street, then stopped a few feet away, suddenly taken by a thought.

Perhaps this was his granddad. He had found out that his son had sired a child and was looking for Andrew everywhere. Maybe, the boy with him had been his brother! What if his father had fled his unhappy marriage and moved to Turkey? And that was why the old man was friendly with Frank? To find out if he was the lost child he'd been looking for! Why hadn't he thought of this before?

The old man stepped close to Andrew. "Do you live around here?"

"Yes, there." Andrew pointed across the way. "You asked me that before, but then I didn't know it was you."

"You know who I am, then?" The stranger smiled, pleased.

"My father's father?" Andrew's heart was beating so fast, soaring with desperate hope.

"Yes!" The old man put his hand over his mouth. "My grandson! It is you!"

"Granddad?"

"Yes! It is I. What do they call you ?" He looked away a moment, which to Andrew felt like an eternity. "Andy, isn't it?"

"Yes, Granddad. Andy."

"I've come to take you home." The old man's face held such warmth and benevolence. Andrew was about to burst with joy.

"To my father?"