Ever Dundas - Goblin

Elsa Lanchester as the bride was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. When the film had finished I walked up the aisle, arms outstretched, hissing at everyone as they left. David lumbered after me. ‘Friend?’ he said, and I drew back, baring my teeth, hissing. He scooped me up, throwing me in the air. I scowled at him, indignant, but he lightly dropped me to the floor and did his best Dr Pretorius. I threw my head back, laughing like a banshee, almost despite myself, still bugged a bit by how easily he threw me around.

We’d forgotten all about Devil. He woke up at all the noise and barked and jumped up at us. He ran rings round the usher who came and chased us into the street.

‘That was the best!’ I said.

‘Did you see his face, eh? When Devil was nipping at his feet?’

‘Yeah!’

As we walked home David told me the story of the first Frankenstein film and said he’d get me the book.

‘If you’re good,’ he said, and winked at me.

We fell into silence. I was lost in my head, reliving the film. I hissed quietly now and then.

‘David?’

‘Huh?’

‘I wanna be Frankenstein. I wanna make a monsta.’

He smiled at me and made to say something, but he didn’t.

‘Look, it’s Conchie and Pick ’n Chew.’

The idiot bastards Jack Alexander and Simon Mayhew were walking towards us. There were a half a dozen more, but I didn’t know them.

‘Whadya want, Jack?’

Jack walked right up to us and punched David in the face. Before I could do anything I was pulled from behind by one of the other idiot bastards. I was on the ground, my cheek pushed into the grit, one of them sitting on my back. I could barely breathe. I couldn’t see David, but I could hear them beating on him. Two of them were chasing Devil, but he ran rings round them, always just ahead. I knew they would kill him if they got a hold of him, but he had them beat, he had them tripping after him and he’d feint, nipping the arse of the one who sat on me, then off he’d go again. When Devil whipped out of reach so fast that one of the bullies fell over, I smiled. Then David hit the concrete right in front of me, blood spattering across my face. I could see he’d lost some teeth. I struggled for breath and blacked out.

When I came to, he was holding me, half-dragging me home because he couldn’t lift me anymore, Devil whining at my side. I felt bad that David had got the pummelling and he was having to carry me home. I struggled to my feet and managed to walk the rest of the way, holding onto his hand. I was too old for it and I had to pretend it was okay that we didn’t hold hands anymore but that day we held hands. Ma made a fuss over David. He said for her to check on me too, but she ignored him and kept on fussing, so I went to bed. I got up in the morning and went out with Devil and Mac, still with David’s dried blood on my face. I took them to where David had been pummelled and picked up his teeth to put in my treasure box.

David hardly looked at me after that night. I told him it didn’t matter and he told me to shut up, Goblin-runt. He still looked handsome with his face all bashed up. We didn’t speak much after that, even though we shared a room. He’d just listen to his records and smoke. One time I couldn’t get in and I waited outside and a girl came out later and then I got in. He started to speak to me again. Just ‘How you doing, Goblin?’ and I’d say about going to the cinema again but he’d just grunt and I’d go play with Mac and Stevie instead.

Edinburgh, 12 July 2011

‘I remember his face. In the cinema. I remember the light from the screen flickering across his cheeks, glinting in his eyes. I remember him smiling at me. That’s what I remember. The smell of stale sweat and old furniture. The feel of the ticket crushed in my hand. That’s what I remember and nothing else matters.’

‘I’m glad for ye,’ Ben says. ‘I’m glad ye had someone. I didnae have anyone. At least ye had David, eh?’

I nod and watch as spectre-Monsta climbs over Ben’s back and on to his shoulder. All I can see are the worm tentacles, feeling their way across Ben’s shoulder, up his neck. The shrew head appears, that pointed nose quivering as it sniffs at Ben, the beautiful dark eyes reflecting the light. I could lose myself in Monsta’s eyes.

‘You’re my family now,’ I say to Ben, Sam, Mahler, and the spectre of Monsta.

‘Ah, c’mon, old lady. Dinnae make us cry.’

‘It’s true.’

‘Aye, well. The weirdos always find each other, eh?’

He strokes Mahler’s head.

‘I dinnae want to outstay ma welcome, though. Now yer feeling better I’ll be out yer hair.’

‘I’d like you to stay.’

‘I dinnae want to take advantage.’

‘You know I’ve always wanted you to stay. I don’t like you being on the streets.’

‘I’m used to it.’

‘I know, but you’re family. And we need you.’

‘Well, I think Sam would be pretty sad to no see Mahler all the time.’

‘I’m back at work tomorrow and I’ll need you to take Mahler for walks. It would be easier if you just stayed.’

Ben looks down at the dogs and strokes Mahler’s nose, frowning, as if the stroking takes intense concentration.

‘Aye, alright,’ he says, not looking at me. ‘I’ll stay. For the sake of these two.’

‘Good,’ I say, feeling a warmth in my belly, the same warmth I felt when James and Mad took me in. ‘This was my dad’s flat,’ I say. ‘Before it was mine.’

‘Which dad?’

‘My new dad, James. He moved here after the circus ended. This is where he settled while I was living in Venice.’

‘I’ve never been to Venice. Or London.’

‘I never want to go back.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s best to leave the past in the past.’

‘That’s not what that Detective thinks.’

‘I don’t care,’ I say. ‘He can keep phoning. I’ll never go back.’

London, 3 September 1939

I was in Kensal Green Cemetery the morning war was declared, oblivious to Chamberlain’s voice on the wireless.

I knew war was brewing after Germany had invaded Poland. We were all just waiting. There was a weird atmosphere at home and war was the only thing Mac would talk about, so I went to the cemetery to get away from it all. I’d stayed over, sleeping in my mausoleum. There’d been a thunderstorm the night before and Devil and I ran down the paths, dancing like maniacs in the rain. I climbed up a mausoleum and crouched on the roof, the rain slithering down my face. I watched the storm clouds envelop the city and saw lightning strike one of the silver slugs. It burst into flames, straining on its wires as it was buffeted by the wind. I clambered down and ran between the gravestones, mimicking Dr Frankenstein – ‘It’s alive!’ I yelled, laughing as the lightning crackled through the black clouds and Devil hunkered down, ears back, barking at the sky.

We retreated to my mausoleum for shelter. I had hidden a bag of clothes and other supplies and I added to it each time we came. I dug out the old rag for drying Devil after his swims in the canal. I hugged him close to me, rubbing him with the rag as he licked my face. I changed into dry clothes and lit candles, keeping them near for some warmth. We curled up in my old blanket and I told Devil ghost stories until we both fell asleep.

The morning was crisp. The storm had cleared the air. We had breakfast and I gathered my things as Devil sat in the morning sun. We wandered lazily through the cemetery, on our way to the Underground when the siren smashed through the in-between realm. Devil barked at the snaking high-pitched moan.

‘War!’ I yelled.