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It hurt a little to see how happy she was. I’d written her off as nothing but Grandma’s accomplice, judging me just as much as Grandma did. But Mum was a puppet on Grandma’s strings, strung up in her web of control.
“Answer your mother,” Grandma said with venom. “Whyareyou back here? Aren’t you too busy cavorting with dirty men?”
“I haven’t been cavorting with dirty men,” I replied, with no lowering of my head or pounding of my heart.
“Don’t lie, Katherine,” she said. “I know you have.”
I shrugged like her words meant nothing as Mum offered me my tea with trembling hands.
“I’ve been with a lovely man called Hans, actually,” I said. “I think you know him, don’t you? He’s been around Garway church quite a lot over the years. It was lovely to meet him. Finally.”
“Hans?” Mum asked, then looked over at Grandma. “Who is Hans?”
Grandma knew who he was, it was obvious. She knew he was asinner, yes. But did she know he was a vampire?
She answered that with a smug nod of her head.
“Don’t worry,little one. I know bloodsuckers exist. They are demons. Hans isn’t aman.He’s a monster from Hell.”
I took a sip of tea without rising to it, managing to keep calm. It was tempting to break out and curse and battle, but I wouldn’t lower myself. There would be no shouting or screaming from me. It would frustrate her so much more if her nastiness didn’t touch me.
“Bloodsuckers?” Mum raised her eyebrows. “Have you met demons, Katherine?! What the hell have you been doing?”
“Thislittle onehas been playing filthy games with dirty sinners,” Grandma told her, but I took another sip of my tea and shrugged.
“You can say whatever you like, Grandma, but Hans isn’t a dirty sinner. He’s the opposite.”
“All vampires are dirty sinners, Katherine.”
Mum held her hands up, shocked.
“Hans is a vampire?! KATHERINE! What on earth are you doing messing around with vampires? Have you lost your mind?!”
It seemed that neither Mum or Grandma were quite so oblivious to the truths of myimaginationas they had made out to be.
Mum dashed past me to stare out through the window, scoping out for other visitors along with me, no doubt afraid to seedirty sinnerson the driveway. She let out a shriek when she saw the blacked-out limo, visible through the garden hedge.
“Is he in there?! My God! Is there a vampire in there?”
“The demon won’t be out there,” Grandma scoffed. “How could he be? He’s confined to the darkness, right where he should be.”
“No, he’s not out there,” I said. “That’s a regular human driver waiting for me, not Hans, and definitely not a demon from Hell.”
I couldn’t be doing with any bullshit debating about vampires, or how much of a filthy sinner Hans was, or what I had or hadn’t been doing down in London. I wanted to lay my cards on the table, and watch the lies face the light.
“ButI’mnot a regular human, am I? I’m a witch, and I know it,” I said to both of them. “Apparently I’m a psychic and a ghost whisperer too. And my father, Thomas, is an occultist, isn’t he?”
They both sucked in breaths.
“You could have just said so,” I said, holding onto my calm as best as I could. “It would have been better than calling mestupidand telling me I was delusional every day of my life.”
“Why in God’s name would we do that?” Grandma said, and I could feel the anger in her as the kitchen units started shaking all around us. “Why would we want to lose you to Hell?!” she yelled and the cupboard door by her head flew open.
I addressed her with a steady tone, my eyes firm on hers.
“You already pushed me into Hell every day you punished me for being myself.”
“Being yourself? A puppet of the devil? The good Lord Jesus will be weeping for you, stupid girl.”
