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The Monster Trilogy
In a minute, after probing in the wine cabinet, he brought forth a wine glass full of a red liquid and gave it to Joe.
‘What’s this? Wine?’
‘Laudanum. Do you a power of good and all.’
‘My god … Well, it is 1896 …’ He sipped it slowly and felt some of the lassitude leave him.
‘You should get out of here at once, Joe. You’re a marked man. I know I’ve helped to delay you, but I see now you should make for home on the morrow, sure as eggs are eggs.’
Bodenland stood up, a little shakily. He took a deep breath.
‘I’m okay, or near enough. Allow me to make you a small speech, since you’ve both been so kind and hospitable. Despite my experiences on the way to England – and I’ve hardly dared tell you of the full strangeness of that journey – I have fought with myself to deny the reality of … of vampires. To be honest, I thought they were a fiction invented for the novel you are about to finish. Even when you talked about them, I kind of reckoned you mad. Now I know you’re not mad.’
‘Heaven be praised! It’s myself that’s always thinking I’m mad, or going that way.’
‘And I’m glad of your reassurance, Mr Bodenland,’ said Florence, getting his name right in gratitude.
‘Thanks. Let me finish my speech. Of course I still worry about my wife, Mina, and my family. I can’t resist the intuition that some dreadful thing may have happened to her. But – hell, Bram, after my experience last night I know it would be cowardice to just up and quit now, and go home as if nothing had happened. I let down my old buddy Bernard Clift. Well, I’m not about to let down my new buddy as well. I’m staying, and we’ll fight this foul thing together.’
To his surprise, Stoker flung his arms about him.
‘You’re a dear feller, sure you are.’ He shook Bodenland’s hand warmly. ‘It’s a brave decision you’ve made.’
Mrs Stoker ran up, casting her embroidery hoop on the carpet, and kissed him on the cheek.
‘I don’t want you getting my husband into trouble, now, but you spoke up like a man – like a soldier. We shall drink a sherry now, to toast you.’
‘And we’ll have a cigar,’ said Stoker. ‘At least, I will.’
This response excited Joe into a less lethargic state.
‘We won’t delay. I may be no Christian, but this is a kind of Christian quest.’ As he spoke, he took a New Testament from a side table and waved it aloft as if in proof. ‘We start tomorrow.’
‘And we prepare tonight,’ said Stoker, through his cigar.
When Stoker was out of the room, his wife came to Bodenland’s side.
‘My dear father was full of wisdom – as befitted a man who was a Lieutenant Colonel and served in the Crimea. One thing he told me was that many impossible things happen. The important thing is to decide which impossible things to believe and which not to.’
‘Sound advice, ma’am.’
‘My father’s advice was always sound. I’m undecided as yet about your impossibilities, but I’d like to ask you, if I may – supposing it were somehow possible to venture into the future, as one ventures into London – would I be able to establish if dear Bram’s latest novel will be a success?’ She laughed, as if thinking it was a silly question for a colonel’s daughter to ask.
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