Horror Holiday by A. B. Saddlewick Page A

go amiss.”
    Maud winced as she looked at the weird array of vehicles parked outside. There was a horse and carriage that looked as if it had ridden in from Victorian days; a row of rusty penny-farthing
bikes with huge wheels at the front and tiny ones at the back; and a couple of broomsticks perched against the wall.

    As Mr Montague parked, Maud noticed that a hearse with a wooden coffin in the back had just arrived. Her half-vampire friend Paprika got out, straightened his cape and opened
the back door. The coffin creaked open and his mum rose from it, shaking the soil from her ballgown.
    “Our playing fields are over there,” said Maud quickly, pointing in the opposite direction. “That’s where we play totally normal games like netball and tennis.”
    Mrs Montague squinted into the darkness. “I can’t really see anything, petal. But I’m sure they’re very nice.”
    Maud glanced over her shoulder and saw that Paprika and his mum had gone into the school. She sighed. They hadn’t even gone inside yet, and already it was proving difficult to keep the
truth about Rotwood hidden.
    They all got out of the car and crunched across the gravel. As Maud glanced up at the hulking grey school, one of the stone gargoyles winked at her.
    It was going to be a long night.
     

M r Montague headed towards the front steps. “Look at this monster!” he said.
    Maud stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn’t believe her dad had discovered the truth already.
    “I bet it didn’t have any trouble at all on that dreadful road,” continued Mr Montague.
    Maud turned and saw that her dad was admiring a huge red truck with massive wheels and a gleaming chrome grille.
    Maud wondered whose truck it was. It seemed way too cool to belong to any of the teachers.
    “Come along, dear,” said Mrs Montague. “You’ll have plenty of time for all that at the Car Show.”
    Milly scowled.
    Maud climbed the large steps into the gloomy entrance hall. Hundreds of pupils and parents were milling around in the flickering light of the wall-mounted torches.
    Mrs Montague paused to look at a display of paintings by some of the school’s youngest monsters. There was a giant spider with a row of yellow eyes, a three-headed dog, and a lion with
wings.
    “These are very vivid,” said Mrs Montague. “Was the theme ‘nightmares’?”
    “Yep, got it in one,” said Maud. The theme had actually been ‘favourite pets’.
    The caretaker, Mr Quasimodo, stomped towards them with a clipboard. He had made an effort to dress up for parents’ evening, but Maud didn’t think it was quite working. His black
trousers stopped just above his ankles and his jacket was stretched so tight over the hunch on his back that it was splitting at the seams. He was wearing a clean white shirt, but it only made his
skin look greener.
    “Wh … what’s that?” asked Milly.
    “Ssh! It’s who, not what,” whispered Maud. “Mr Quasimodo is the school caretaker.”
    Paprika’s mum stepped over to the caretaker, jabbing her finger into his chest and scolding him about the state of the poison ivy garden.
    “I know he looks a bit strange,” said Maud. “But he’s alright really.”
    “Yeah, he’s harmless,” said Paprika, who had appeared behind them. “He hasn’t eaten anyone in years.”
    Maud stamped hard on Paprika’s foot. “No monster stuff,” she whispered.
    “Oops,” muttered Paprika. “Sorry.” They took a few steps away, leaving Milly to gape at the terrifying caretaker.
    “I don’t know if I can keep this up,” said Maud, once they were out of earshot. “I just want to have my appointment and go.”
    “I know how you feel,” said Paprika. “Mum goes spare if I get a bad report. Once I got such a bad mark in history that Mum made me fly to school with one wing tied behind my
back.”
    Maud glanced over at Paprika’s mother. She was waiting impatiently for Mr Quasimodo to find their appointment on his clipboard. Finally, she snatched