Miss Lemondrop was standing at a desk at the front of the class.

  “What’s she doing?” Vlad whispered to Minxie, as he followed her into the room.

  “She’s getting ready to take the register, of course – she’s our form teacher,” said Minxie, turning and frowning at Vlad.

  “Oh yes,” said Vlad. He remembered that this was what the Jollywood Academy teachers did at the start of each day.

  “You can sit next to me,” Minxie said, grabbing Vlad’s cape and leading him to an empty desk. “And I think you should take your hood off now we’re inside,” she added. “It looks weird.”

  Vlad hesitated.

  “Go on,” Flit whispered. “The sun can’t burn you inside, remember?”

  “OK,” said Vlad.

  He pushed his hood back slowly. The bright lights of the classroom made him blink but Flit was right. He didn’t get burnt.

  Vlad sat down next to Minxie and looked around at the other children. When the last child had come into the room, Miss Lemondrop looked up from her tidying and said loudly, “One … two … three!”

  This seemed to have a similar magical effect to the bell ringing – all the children sat down, stopped talking and faced the front.

  “Good morning, Badger Class!” the teacher said.

  “Good morning, Miss Lemondrop,” the class sang back in unison.

  Badger Class? Vlad looked around the room. He had watched badgers playing in the graveyard and there definitely weren’t any in here. Maybe they were allowed to play with the badgers after lessons.

  Mind you, he was beginning to think that even the lessons might be fun. Miss Lemondrop didn’t look like the sort of person who would get cross if he made a mistake.

  I bet she wouldn’t make me write out the names of Great-great-great Uncle Latvox and Great-great-great Aunt Bratislavonika’s seventeen children, he thought. And I bet she wouldn’t send me to the basement to help Mulch polish every single piece of silver we own if I forgot one of the “greats”.

  A person who allowed badgers into her class had to be a lot more fun than that, Vlad reasoned.

  Miss Lemondrop had started calling the register.

  “Where are the badgers?” Vlad blurted out.

  Miss Lemondrop looked up, frowning. “Who said that?” she asked.

  “You idiot!” Flit whispered from inside Vlad’s cape. “You said that out loud!”

  Vlad felt his mouth go dry as he saw that the whole class had turned to stare at him.

  Suddenly the freckly boy called Boz burst out laughing. “He thinks there are real badgers in our class! What a weirdo!” he hooted.

  Soon the whole class was whooping and giggling and pointing at Vlad.

  Minxie wasn’t laughing but she was watching Vlad very carefully.

  Miss Lemondrop clapped her hands then said, “One … two … three,” again and the children settled down. She peered at Vlad. “Are you sure you’re in the right class? What’s your name?”

  Vlad opened his mouth to speak, but Minxie jumped in and said, “This is Vlad. He’s from Transylvania.”

  “Oh!” said Miss Lemondrop, beaming. “You’re one of the new children. How exciting! I had better explain – our class is just called Badger Class. Next door is Fox Class and the one down the corridor is Squirrel Class, you see?”

  Vlad nodded. “Do you have a Bat Class?” he asked.

  Boz burst out laughing again but Miss Lemondrop silenced him with a look. “No, dear,” she said to Vlad, smiling again. “Did you have a Bat Class in your old school?”

  If only you knew! Vlad thought.

  “Er, yes,” he said. “I was in, erm, Bat Class.”

  “Fascinating!” said Miss Lemondrop.

  Vlad felt himself relax. “Yes, and this isn’t a costume,” Vlad said. He was getting into the swing of things now. “This is my national dress.”

  “What are you doing?” Flit squeaked quietly.

  “Really?” said Miss Lemondrop. Her face shone.

  Vlad ignored Flit. The teacher seemed to be really interested in what he had to say.

  “Yes,” he said, sitting up proudly. “In Transylvania the boys wear black suits, white shirts, velvet capes and long black boots just like this, and the girls wear long black velvet dresses,” he went on. “I thought I should dress smartly on my first day at school.”

  Minxie shot him a narrow-eyed look.

  Uh oh. Maybe I’ve said too much, Vlad thought.

  “I see,” said Miss Lemondrop. “Well, that’s wonderful. And you certainly do look smart. However I think you’ll have to take off your cape in class,” she added.

  Vlad hesitated.

  “Come along,” said Miss Lemondrop, holding out her hand. “I’ll hang it up on the back of the door for now but in future you must put it in the cloakroom. Malika can show you later.”

  “What about me?” Flit squeaked.

  But Vlad just nodded at Miss Lemondrop and shrugged off his cape. He couldn’t spend the whole day trying to keep Flit a secret on top of everything else. Flit would just have to hide inside the cape.

  “That’s better,” said Miss Lemondrop. “I can see your lovely suit now.”

  Vlad smiled back at the teacher. His parents were wrong about humans being nasty, he told himself. Minxie was being kind to him and this teacher was lovely. If they had been wrong about that, maybe they were wrong about him getting burnt in the sunlight, too?

  As the teacher hung the cape on a hook on the door, Vlad heard Flit give a frightened squeak.

  “What was that squeaking?” asked Miss Lemondrop, looking around the room.

  “I-I think it was the door,” said Vlad quickly.

  “You must be right, Vlad,” said Miss Lemondrop. She moved the door back and forwards a few times.

  Flit, thinking quickly, gave another squeak.

  “Hmm,” said Miss Lemondrop again. “I shall have to get the caretaker to put some oil on those hinges.”

  While the teacher examined the door, Boz leaned over his desk and poked Vlad.

  Vlad turned to see Boz sneering at him with an evil glint in his eye.

  “Show us your teeth!” Boz said.

  “W-why?” Vlad asked. He glanced at Minxie but she said nothing.

  “I saw them when you smiled,” Boz said. “They’re all pointy – like fangs!” He pulled back his lips and said in a spooky voice, “I’m a vampire!”

  “Boz, stop being gross,” said Minxie, although she frowned at Vlad.

  But Boz got up from his seat and began pretending to be a monster. Vlad felt a surge of panic. Did this boy really know what he was?

  Miss Lemondrop whirled round. “Sit down, Boswell Jones!” she shouted.

  Boz dropped back into his seat with a scowl.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Miss Lemondrop asked.

  “Miss, he was being rude about Vlad’s teeth,” said Minxie. “Because they’re pointy.”

  Vlad tried to make himself as small as possible.

  “Don’t be rude, Boswell. Now, Vlad,” Miss Lemondrop said, turning back to Vlad. “Smart as your national costume is, I should explain that here in England we have school uniforms, which we expect everyone to wear,” she said kindly.

  She gestured to the other children, who were all wearing blue T-shirts and black shorts or skirts.

  “Perhaps we can get you something from Lost Property… Now, let’s go over our times tables. And when we’ve finished, I think Vlad should tell us all about life in Transylvania. I am sure everyone has lots of questions.”

  He heard Boz snigger behind him. “Yeah, Freaky Teeth!”

  Vlad froze. He couldn’t talk about Transylvania… He’d never been there! How was he going to get out of this?

  Vlad was surprised by how easy he found the times tables, compared to the tricky sums his mother made him do.

  “You’ve done a very good job, Vlad!” said Miss Lemondrop, when he answered all the questions correctly. “The Transylvanians seem to be a bit ahead of some of us,” she said, glaring pointedly at Boz, who had not been able to give any of the right answers. “That reminds me,” she went on, glancing at the clock on the wall, “why don’t you come up to the front and tell us about your home country, Vlad?”

  Vlad felt his mouth go dry. “I-I don’t know,” he said.

  “Come on, dear,” said Miss Lemondrop. “I don’t bite!”

  Vlad started. “I should hope not!” he blurted out. “In any case, your teeth don’t look sharp enough.”

  “Yours do, though,” said Boz, as the rest of the class sniggered.

  “Boswell!” said Miss Lemondrop sternly. “One more word from you and I’ll send you to the Head Teacher’s office!”

  “Sorry, Miss,” he mumbled.

  From the look on Boz’s face, Vlad thought that the Head Teacher’s office sounded as bad as the Black Tower!

  Miss Lemondrop turned back to Vlad. “It would be lovely to hear about your home in Transylvania, Vlad,” she said.

  “Go on, Vlad!” said Minxie. “We want to know EVERYTHING about you.”

  Vlad looked around. Everyone except Boz was smiling and waiting to hear what he had to say. Back at home no one was interested apart from Flit!

  Vlad steadied his nerves, pushed back his chair and walked to the front. He tried to remember everything his father and grandfather had told him about Transylvania. Clearing his throat, he started talking.

  “My family comes from Transylvania…” He trailed off. What could he say, without telling them he was a vampire?

  “Carry on, dear,” said Miss Lemondrop, looking at Vlad and smiling.

  “Yes, carry on, Vlad,” said Minxie.

  “They, umm… It’s a big family,” said Vlad. “There’s my Auntie Pavlova and Uncle Maximus.”

  “Stupid names!” Boz muttered.

  Vlad frowned. There had been a boy called Jack in the Jollywood Academy story who was a bit like Boz. He was always being mean and playing pranks on the other children. Feeling cross with Boz seemed to have the magical effect of making Vlad feel brave again. He drew himself up tall.

  “My family – the Impaler Family – is one of the oldest families in the whole of Transylvania!” he said, fixing his eyes on Boz. “We go back generations and generations. And we live in a big manor house – I mean … we did … in Transylvania,” he added.

  “Liar,” Boz said quietly.

  “Shut up!” hissed Minxie, glaring at Boz.

  “Fascinating!” said Miss Lemondrop. “And do you speak Transylvanian?” she asked. “Is that what the language is called?”

  “Yes,” said Vlad.

  “Perhaps you could say something for us, then?” Miss Lemondrop said.

  Vlad gulped. He was rubbish at Transylvanian!

  “Well, there wouldn’t be much point, would there?” he said, thinking fast. “You wouldn’t be able to understand it!”

  The class laughed, which made Vlad bolder still. “I could tell you some Transylvanian jokes,” he offered.

  “Yes, please!” everyone shouted – except Boz, who was sulking.

  Vlad thought of some of Grandpa Gory’s favourites. “Why does Count Dracula have no friends?” he asked.

  “We don’t know!” said the class.

  “Because he’s a pain in the neck!” said Vlad.

  The children all laughed and even Miss Lemondrop chuckled.

  “What’s Count Dracula’s favourite sport?”

  “We don’t know!” shouted the class.

  “Bat-minton!” said Vlad.

  The laughter grew louder still.

  Miss Lemondrop stood up at the front of the class and cried out, “One … two … three!”

  Everyone settled down.

  “Vlad, dear,” she said, “that is very entertaining … but I was hoping you might tell us a bit about your life. What is school like in Transylvania, for example?”

  “Erm… It’s a lot like it is here,” Vlad said. “We have classrooms and teachers, and we do lessons about Transylvanian things,” he said.

  He saw that the class was starting to fidget and he couldn’t think of anything interesting to say. “But – but I haven’t been to school for a while. Since we moved I’ve been having my lessons at home.” It’s easier to talk about what’s true, he thought. “My mother has been teaching me history and my grandpa teaches me Transylvanian myths and legends. He has a big book of them. He also has a book about mermaids and unicorns, but everyone knows they don’t exist!” Vlad said with a weak laugh.

  “How do you know?” Minxie piped up. “Just cos you haven’t seen one, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

  “Very good, Malika,” said Miss Lemondrop, although she said it as though what she really meant was, “Be quiet, Malika.” Then she turned back to Vlad. “What about your customs? And food… Do you have a favourite national dish?”

  Vlad felt his stomach fall away. I can’t tell her that we drink blood, he thought. Then he remembered the descriptions of the food the pupils had in their forest-school classes in the Jollywood Academy book.

  “We have picnics in the forest sometimes!” he said. “With sausages cooked over a fire. And marshmallows,” he added. “I LOVE marshmallows.”

  Miss Lemondrop looked rather puzzled. “How nice!” she said, with a small frown. “But presumably you have proper meals as well – are your parents good cooks?”

  “Oh no, we have a butler who does all that,” said Vlad.

  “Oooooh! A butler?” Boz muttered. “How posh!”

  Vlad didn’t understand. He started babbling to cover up his confusion. “Er, he’s called Mulch and he’s very tall. When Father calls him to the dining room he comes in like this…” Vlad drew himself up tall and dipped his head in an impersonation of Mulch. Then he said in a deep, booming voice, “You called, Master?”

  The children laughed again, so Vlad went on. “My grandpa lives with us. He’s very good at telling stories but he’s also good at falling asleep halfway through them. Like this…” Vlad sat down in Miss Lemondrop’s chair and said in a quavering old voice, “When I was young, back in the olden days we often—” Then he pretended to fall asleep and let out an enormous snore!

  At that point, the bell rang and Miss Lemondrop had to shout over the noise.

  “Break time!” she called. “Thank you, Vlad,” she said as the children ran out to the playground. “You certainly have a talent for bringing a story to life!”

  “My cape!” cried Vlad, as Minxie grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out after the others.

  “You don’t need it – look! It’s a lovely sunny day,” she said.

  “I know,” Vlad said, sounding panicky. “That’s what I am worried about.”

  Minxie stopped. “What?” she said.

  “I – er … I have an allergy,” Vlad said, thinking quickly.

  “An allergy to the sun?” said Minxie. Her eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Yes – I might get burnt,” Vlad whispered, looking around to make sure no one else had heard. Would Minxie suspect something?

  But she just nodded and said, “Of course! You’ve got really pale skin. Don’t worry, we can stay in the shade. Or I could go and ask for a hat and some sun block for you?”

  Vlad didn’t know what sun block was. He glanced at the back of his hands to check his skin. Nothing had happened – he wasn’t burnt. Maybe his parents had been wrong?

  “No, no, it’s OK. I don’t want to make a fuss,” he said. “Let’s just stay in the shade.”

  “OK!” said Minxie. “But lots of people with pale skin worry about the sun, you know. Not just Transylvanians.” She looked at him a bit oddly when she said this, but then she added, “You were brilliant in class just now! So funny!”

  “Really?” said Vlad. No one had ever said things like that to him before – not even Grandpa Gory.

  Minxie was jumping and twirling. “YES!” she shouted, punching the air. “FUNNY AND BRILLIANT!”

  Vlad grinned.

  “Hey, you know what?” Minxie said, hanging from the climbing frame and pointing at Vlad. “I’ve just had the most AMAZING idea! You should audition for the school show. You’re dead good!” she said.

  “Dead?” Vlad repeated, looking puzzled. “Zombies are dead – except they’re also kind of alive. At least, that’s what Grandpa says.”

  Minxie laughed. “Your grandpa sounds awesome. I can’t believe you used to live in a castle! And you have a butler – no one has a BUTLER any more! Are you rich? Can I come to your house?”

  Vlad’s grin faded. “Er, oh, we don’t have a butler any more,” he said, crossing his fingers behind his back. “Not since we moved from Transylvania. We don’t have any money or a manor house any more, either,” he said.

  Minxie jumped down from the climbing frame, looking sad. “Aww,” she said. “I’m sorry. Are you a refugee?”

  Vlad bit his lip. “I-I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what a refugee is.”

  Minxie smiled. “It’s what we call people who have had to leave their home to find a better place to live – because they feel unsafe, for example,” she said. Then she put her arm through Vlad’s and drew him in close. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I’ll look after you. I know what it’s like leaving all your friends and family behind.”

  “Do you?” said Vlad. “Why, what happened to you?”

  “I’ll tell you another day,” Minxie said quickly. Then she said, “Are you lonely?”

  “Yes,” said Vlad, relief flooding his voice.

  Minxie leaned in closer. “Shall I tell you a secret? So am I. Sometimes,” she whispered.

  Vlad thought Minxie seemed far too confident to be lonely. She was dancing about again, full of beans.

  “Come on, let’s get a snack,” she said.

  “You can be my New Best Friend,” she added, skipping ahead to where a teacher was handing out fruit.

  She wants me to be her best friend! Vlad thought. It sounded like the nicest thing in the world – someone to talk to, someone to stick up for you when things were tough, someone to have fun with!

 

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