Michael Broad spent much of his childhood gazing out of the window imagining he was somewhere more interesting.

Now he’s a grown-up Michael still spends a lot of time gazing out of the window imagining he’s somewhere more interesting – but now he writes and illustrates books as well.

Some of them are picture books, like Broken Bird and The Little Star Who Wished.

Books by Michael Broad

JAKE CAKE: THE ROBOT DINNER LADY
JAKE CAKE: THE SCHOOL DRAGON
JAKE CAKE: THE VISITING VAMPIRE
JAKE CAKE: THE WEREWOLF TEACHER

Jake Cake
The Visiting Vampire

MICHAEL BROAD

PUFFIN

This book is dedicated to my friend Ness

PUFFIN BOOKS

Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
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(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
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(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd)
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(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)
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Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

www.puffinbooks.com

First published 2007
1

Copyright © Michael Broad, 2007
All rights reserved

The moral right of the author has been asserted

Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN: 978-0-14-192165-5

Here are three Unbelievable stories about the times I met:

A Vampire

Two Demons

And a knight

Visiting Vampire

Sometimes we have visitors at our school who spend the morning with the class to tell us about something interesting, or at least it’s supposed to be interesting. One time we had a farmer who spent the whole morning going on about potatoes – which was really boring.

You might think it would at least be good to get away from teachers for a bit, but the teachers stay in the classroom the whole time. They sit in the corner, keeping an eye on everyone to make sure we don’t give the visitor a hard time.

When the farmer visited I fell asleep in class and started snoring like one of his pigs. Mrs Grump obviously hadn’t forgotten this because after introducing Mr Graves she took a seat beside the whiteboard and spent most of her time watching me.

Mr Graves stood at the front of the class. He was very pale and wore a long black cape and a black top hat. Mrs Grump introduced him as a magician – which probably meant he did card tricks and pulled rabbits out of hats at little kids’ parties.

YAWN!

Mr Graves took off his top hat and started rummaging around inside it.

I was expecting him to pull out a rabbit, or a string of coloured handkerchiefs. So I was as surprised as the rest of the class when he stopped rummaging, whacked the bottom of the hat and out flew a huge cloud of bats!

A couple of girls screamed, Mrs Grump’s mouth fell open and everyone else gasped in amazement as the bats began circling the room, flapping and screeching loudly.

This was definitely better than potatoes!

Mr Graves clapped his hands together twice and the bats gathered over his head in a big black flapping cloud. Then, with a click of his fingers, they all disappeared in a great puff of purple smoke!

The whole class started clapping and cheering; even Mrs Grump was clapping. She didn’t cheer, but she did seem to be smiling which is not like Mrs Grump at all and looked very odd!

‘Vunderful!’ said Mr Graves, with a funny accent. ‘I have your attention!’

Mrs Grump continued to clap after everyone else had stopped, until the magician frowned at her and she quickly put her hands back in her lap. I’ve never seen my form teacher get so excited before, which probably should have tipped me off that something was wrong.

‘For my next feat of magic I vill need a volunteer,’ said Mr Graves.

Everyone immediately put their hands up, even Mrs Grump. I was the only one who didn’t because I was troubled by what I saw in the reflection of the window.

Actually, I was more troubled by what I couldn’t see.

It was grey and cloudy outside so the whole bright classroom was lit up in the reflection of the glass. I saw Mrs Grump, I saw Mrs Grump’s desk and the whiteboard, I saw all the other kids with their hands in the air (including me without my hand in the air), but I couldn’t see Mr Graves at all!

The magician had no reflection!

When I turned back Mr Graves was looming over me, which gave me a massive fright. I’d been so busy looking at the class through the window I hadn’t seen him creep up to my desk.

‘YOU!’ said the magician, pointing a pale bony finger at me. ‘You vill assist me vith my next amazing illusion!’

GULP!

Under the watchful glare of Mrs Grump I reluctantly made my way to the front of the class with Mr Graves. I glanced in the window one more time to make sure I hadn’t imagined the magician’s missing reflection. No, there I was, walking alone with a very worried look on my face.

I quickly made a list in my head:

Pale skin.

A hat full of bats.

A black cape.

A dodgy accent.

No reflection!

A VAMPIRE!

Everything definitely pointed to a vampire, but they can’t come out during the day or else they turn to dust (even if it is dull and cloudy). So Mr Graves had to be something else.

The magician stood at the front of the class and handed me a long silver chain with an old-fashioned watch on the end.

‘Hold this up and sving it from side to side!’ he demanded.

‘Sving it?’ I said, not knowing what he meant.

‘Yes, sving, sving!’ he snapped, waving his hand backwards and forwards.

‘Oh, you mean swing?’ I said.

‘Yes, sving!’ he growled. ‘That’s exactly vhat I said!’

I held the chain up and let the watch swing from side to side, because I couldn’t see what harm it could do. And while Mr Graves told everyone to gaze at the vatch and surrender their vill (I think he meant watch and will), I looked around, trying to find clues to discover who or what he was.

There was a black rucksack under the desk. So while Mr Graves was busy telling the rest of the class to concentrate on the watch, I inched my way forward and booted it.

The rucksack fell over and a plastic bottle rolled out and landed at my feet.

As I read the label my eyes widened.

It was a bottle of suntan lotion.

Factor 60!

Complete sun block!

I dropped the chain, took a deep breath and yelled at the top of my voice:

‘THE MAGICIAN ISN’T REALLY A MAGICIAN, HE’S A VAMPIRE AND HE HASN’T TURNED TO DUST BECAUSE HE’S WEARING LOADS OF SUNTAN LOTION!’

Now, usually when I shout out something like that (which happens quite a lot), the other kids start screaming, or they laugh because they think it’s funny, or I get told off for making up stories. Sometimes the other kids scream and laugh, and I get told off all at the same time.

But this time nothing happened!

I looked around and saw my classmates staring at me with wide vacant eyes. Then I turned to Mrs

Grump, who I was sure would have something to say about my outburst, but she was staring at me with wide vacant eyes too.

I waved at Mrs Grump to get her attention but she didn’t even blink!

‘MWAH HA HA HA!’ boomed the vampire, throwing his arms up and flapping his cape dramatically (vampires are well known for flapping their capes around dramatically. I think they think it’s scary, but it just looks silly).

‘What have you done to my classmates?’ I said, backing away slowly.

‘They’re under my spell,’ hissed the vampire.

‘What do you want with them?’ I asked, trying to buy some time so I could work out how to get away.

‘I vill make them my slaves, of course!’ said Mr Graves. ‘My castle in Transylvania is very large and doesn’t look after itself, you know!’

‘So you are a vampire!’ I said, because vampires usually live in Transylvania.

Mr Graves nodded.

‘But what about Mrs Grump?’ I said. ‘She’s too old to be a slave.’

‘Hmmm,’ said the vampire, eyeing Mrs Grump up and down with a frown. ‘I think your teacher will be my new manservant,’ he said. ‘My last one had an unfortunate accident and I’ve been looking for a replacement.’

‘But she’s not even a man,’ I said, not really knowing what a manservant was but guessing they’d probably have to be a man to get the job.

The vampire considered this, took a marker pen from the desk and wandered over to Mrs Grump. He leaned down and drew a big black curly moustache on my teacher’s top lip.

‘There, that’s better,’ he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

Mrs Grump looked really funny with a curly black moustache drawn on her face, but I didn’t have time to enjoy it because something else was worrying me.

Mrs Grump was going to be a manservant with a marker-pen moustache.

The other kids in my class were going to be slaves.

Which left only one person.

‘What about me?’ I said, edging back until I bumped into Mrs Grump’s desk.

The vampire scratched his chin thoughtfully and then smiled, baring his big ugly fangs for the first time.

‘I vill drink your BLOOD!’ he boomed. ‘MWAH HA HA HA!’

The vampire’s red eyes suddenly widened and so did his mouth. Then he flicked his cape up in the air and swooped down on me like a big black eagle swooping on a rabbit!

I couldn’t get away because he was too quick and I was trapped against the desk, so I reached around and grabbed the first thing I could lay my hands on.

Mrs Grump’s register!

I shut my eyes tight and swung the book as hard as I could!

WHACK!

I’d definitely hit something because when I peered out through one eye I saw two things at once. The first was the vampire with his mouth open, looking very surprised and very gummy. The second was a pair of fangy false teeth flying through the air like a missile, and landing on the

floor with a clatter.

The vampire was stunned for a moment so I dropped the book, ducked past him and, because a vampire without fangs can’t bite you, I quickly grabbed the teeth before he could shove them back in again.

Then I scarpered out of the classroom as fast as my legs would carry me.

As I bolted down the corridor I heard running footsteps and a cape flapping behind me. I glanced back just in time to see the vampire leap into the air! Suddenly there was a loud bang and a cloud of purple smoke, and out from the smoke flew a very large angry bat.

‘ARRRRRGGGGH!’ I screamed, but then came up with an idea.

I skidded to a halt at the end of the corridor and held my breath as the bat flapped and screeched towards me.

But just as it swooped down, I shot into the boys’ toilets and slammed the door shut behind me.

THUD!

The thud was immediately

followed by the squeaking sound of a bat sliding down the other side of the door.

I ran to the nearest cubicle, threw the teeth down the toilet bowl and flushed the chain. As the teeth gurgled away I looked at my hand and noticed the slimy vampire drool dangling from my fingers.

YUCK!

After washing my hands I opened the door slowly and looked down.

There was a dazed gummy bat gazing up at me from the floor, and because a dazed gummy bat isn’t very scary, I picked it up by one of its wings and dragged it back to the classroom.

Mrs Grump was still sitting in the corner of the room wearing a marker-pen moustache and gazing into space (which was a bit of an improvement because she wasn’t moaning or glaring at me). The other kids in the class were all still gazing silently at the whiteboard (which would have pleased Mrs Grump if she hadn’t been sitting in the corner of the room wearing a marker-pen moustache and gazing into space).

Everyone was obviously still under the vampire’s spell, and because the vampire bat was still under the spell of the toilet door, I heaved him on to the desk, took a seat and waited.

Eventually there was a halfhearted bang and a thin cloud of purple smoke, and as the smoke drifted away Mr Graves the vampire was sitting on the desk looking like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards.

‘MWAH HA HA HA!’ I said,

because I couldn’t help myself.

The vampire looked very angry. He jumped off the desk and stood over me, flapping his cape dramatically. But without his teeth he didn’t look scary any more; in fact, he looked a bit silly.

‘Vhere are my…’ he demanded, but I interrupted him.

‘I flushed them down the toilet,’ I said.

The vampire gave a defeated sigh, and then looked around the room.

‘Vell, I still have your class and your teacher!’ he laughed, picking up his rucksack and putting the top hat back on his head. ‘I vill have them carve me a bigger, sharper set of teeth and then I vill come back for you!’

The vampire raised his hand and clicked his fingers together.

Suddenly the whole classroom stood up at the same time, including Mrs Grump, and stared at Mr Graves expectantly, waiting for his instructions.

The vampire sneered at me (which isn’t easy to do without teeth), turned towards the door and clicked his fingers again. Mrs Grump and the whole class followed him, staggering from behind their desks like zombies.

GULP!

I’m always in trouble at school for losing homework or library books, so I knew I’d be in DEEP trouble if I lost my whole class and my teacher. Even I wouldn’t believe that a vampire had taken them to his castle in Transylvania, so I had to stop them myself.

I had an idea.

As the whole class was about to leave the classroom I raised my hand and clicked my fingers together.

Suddenly all the zombies stopped and turned to face me, which was a bit creepy, so I quickly clicked my fingers again and everyone went back to their seats!

The vampire spun around angrily and snapped his fingers.

Everyone immediately stood up again.

I snapped my fingers and everyone immediately sat down again.

The vampire snapped his fingers and everyone stood up again.

I snapped my…

Well, you get the idea. This actually went on for quite a while and all the time Mr Graves was getting angrier and angrier. Eventually he lurched towards me, and although he still didn’t have any teeth the vampire suddenly looked very scary again!

I jumped out of my seat to get away and trod on something small and hard that immediately smashed under my feet. The vampire froze and looked a

bit worried, and when I looked around I could see why.

The whole class, including Mrs Grump, had woken from the spell.

Glancing down I saw the silver watch I’d dropped earlier. Breaking it had obviously broken the spell because everyone, including my teacher, was looking very confused.

‘What on earth is going on here?’ yelled Mrs Grump.

‘THE MAGICIAN ISN’T REALLY A MAGICIAN, HE’S A VAMPIRE AND HE TURNED EVERYONE INTO ZOMBIES AND I FLUSHED HIS TEETH DOWN THE TOILET!’

At least this outburst got a reaction, but not the one I’d hoped for.

Mrs Grump looked angrier than I’d ever seen her before (even angrier than the time an ogre ate her desk – but I’ll tell you about that another time).

She was about to tell me off when I suddenly realized I had proof!

‘He hasn’t got a reflection!’ I said, before Mrs Grump could speak. ‘Look in the window!’

Mrs Grump narrowed her eyes and turned towards the window.

‘ARRRRRGGGGGGHHH!’ she screamed, and turned back to face me with a look of horror on her face.

‘You see,’ I said. ‘I told you. Mr Graves is a vam–’ I glanced around and noticed that Mr Graves had gone!

He must have legged it while everyone was watching Mrs Grump.

So why had Mrs Grump screamed if the vampire had already scarpered?

Had my teacher seen something else in the glass, something much worse than a vampire, some hideous monster that the vampire visitor had conjured up before fleeing the scene?

As Mrs Grump glared at me I realized the answer was written on her face.

My teacher had seen her marker-pen moustache!

GULP!

‘If you don’t hurry up we’ll be late for your appointment!’ Mum snapped, grabbing my arm and pulling me along beside her.

She’d rumbled my plan.

I thought if I shuffled slowly enough we’d be late for the hairdresser’s and have to make a new appointment. Then I’d have time to come up with a proper scheme to get out of it, like I usually do.

Mum had been sneaky this time. I didn’t know about the haircut until she pounced on me at the school gates, and by then it was too late. I’d walked straight into a haircut-trap and there was no time to leg it or come up with a decent escape plan.

Mum always gets my hair cut the way she likes it, neat and nerdy with a side parting, and it takes ages to get it looking scruffy again. I’d managed to dodge the last three appointments, but now my luck had finally run out and I was doomed to be the least cool kid in school.

My appointment was at the Saloon Salon, a Wild West-themed hairdresser’s that Mum thought would be fun. And it would have been fun too, if I hadn’t been there to get a nerdy haircut.

Mum watched me carefully as we sat in the reception.

I scratched my scruffy head and thought hard.

I decided the last chance I had to escape the scissors was to pretend to head for the chair when my name was called, and then quickly change direction and scarper out the door.

‘Jake Cake?’ said the hairdresser, stepping through swinging saloon doors.

I was about to put my last-minute escape plan into action when Mum leapt from her chair like a jack-in-the-box, blocked the door and folded her arms defiantly.

‘He’s here,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘And he would like nice and neat with an adorable side parting.’

As the hairdresser led me away Mum gave a triumphant sigh.

She must have been planning this for weeks!

The hairdresser was very tall and thin, with a long nose and very bushy eyebrows. Her assistant was short and round, with a pointy nose and no eyebrows at all. They were both wearing scissor-holsters and Stetsons.

I sat in the chair and watched through the mirror as the hairdresser and her assistant peered at my hair.

‘Hmmm,’ they said together, moving in for a closer look.

Glancing up, all I could see were two sets of hairy nostrils twitching as the pair exchanged frantic glances,

whispers and angry grunts over my head. And from where I sat it sounded like they were arguing about who would cut my hair.

‘Mine!’ snapped the hairdresser.

‘Mine!’ snapped the assistant.

‘This one is MINE!’ the hairdresser growled. ‘You can have the next one!’

The assistant fell silent and stuck out her bottom lip.

‘I don’t mind who does it, so long as it’s not neat and nerdy,’ I said hopefully.

The hairdresser and her assistant frowned at each other as though they’d completely forgotten there was a person sitting beneath the messy mop of hair. They turned their heads slowly and peered at me through the mirror.

‘We’re not deciding who gets to cut it!’ hissed the hairdresser.

‘We’re deciding who gets to keep it afterwards!’ hissed the assistant.

‘Oh,’ I said, shrinking back down in the chair.

My eyes darted between the hairdresser and her assistant as they continued their argument. Something very strange was going on right above my head, but I couldn’t work out what it was. Who were these hat-wearing hairdressers and why were they arguing over who got to keep my scruffy old hair clippings?

‘Mine!’ snapped the hairdresser, poking the assistant in the chest.

‘Mine!’ snapped the assistant, twanging the hairdresser’s long nose.

‘Mine!’ snapped the hairdresser, prodding the assistant’s pointy nose.

Suddenly the assistant reached up and flicked off the hairdresser’s hat, revealing a shiny bald head with two small horns sticking out of it! The hairdresser gasped and retaliated, flicking off the assistant’s hat and revealing another shiny bald head with one stumpy horn in the middle (like a baby rhinoceros)!

I immediately knew what I was dealing with.
DEMONS!

Demons are everywhere if you know what to look for. I once found one living in our chimney! I chased it out with a poker and got into loads of trouble for getting soot everywhere (but I’ll tell you about that another time).

One thing you need to know about demons is that aside from being really, really ugly, they’re also really, really stupid.

These two were so stupid they hadn’t realized I’d seen their horns and they didn’t even notice when I slipped out of the chair and legged it. And I would

have escaped too, if Mum hadn’t been patrolling the exit.

‘But they’re DEMONS!’ I pleaded, as Mum continued to block the door.

‘So, it’s demons now, is it!’ she sighed, rolling her eyes. ‘Honestly, Jake! All this fuss over one little haircut!’

I was about to carry on pleading when I heard frantic footsteps approaching and the demons appeared with their hats crammed on at awkward angles. They glared at me with mean demon eyes and then quickly became flustered when they saw Mum.

‘Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mrs Cake,’ said the hairdresser.

‘The little rascal just wriggled away!’ added the assistant.

‘Don’t worry, I was expecting an escape attempt,’ Mum said, nudging me back towards the demons. ‘Perhaps I should come in and keep an eye on him while you cut his hair?’

‘NOOOOO!’ boomed the hairdresser angrily.

Mum looked startled and the demons exchanged worried glances.

‘NOOOOO charge!’ added the assistant hastily.

‘Excuse me?’ said Mum.

‘NOOOOO charge for haircuts today,’ said the assistant, who was now looking up at Mum’s hair with wide greedy eyes. ‘It’s a special promotion we’re having for ladies with pretty hair!’

‘Pretty hair?’ Mum smiled, glancing in a nearby mirror and fiddling with her fringe. ‘You think I have pretty hair?’

‘Very pretty hair,’ said the assistant, and drooled.

‘Well, maybe I could use a little trim.’ Mum chuckled, obviously flattered by the compliment. ‘If it’s not too much trouble?’

‘No trouble at all,’ grinned the assistant.

‘But they’re DEMONS!’ I sighed.

‘Now that’s quite enough of that,’ Mum said, leading me back into the salon. She plonked me down in the chair and eyed me through the mirror. ‘And I’ll be watching you the whole time, so behave yourself,’ she warned.

GULP!

While the demon assistant combed and snipped Mum’s hair at the other end of the salon, the demon hairdresser scratched her chin with one hand and prodded my messy mop with the other.

‘What do you want with the hair anyway?’ I said, because I was curious.

‘I’m going to chop it all off and glue it on to my head!’ said the hairdresser, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

‘Er, why?’ I asked with a frown.

‘Because my hat keeps falling off,’ said the demon matter-of-factly.

‘Oh,’ I said. She was much too fierce to argue with.

I should have worked it out earlier. Demons are well known for dressing up as humans. They steal clothes from washing lines and usually wear hats to cover their horns. Wigs make them itch, which is always a dead giveaway, so I guessed real hair was the next best thing.

The hairdresser was still scratching her chin when the assistant came over to us.

Through the mirror I saw Mum still sitting at the other side of the salon. She was now under a big hairdryer, reading a magazine.

I hadn’t seen exactly what the assistant had done to Mum’s hair, but she seemed happy enough.

Mum saw me looking and waved – it was a slow I’m-still-watching-you wave. GULP!

‘My new hair is going to look very pretty when it’s set!’ said the assistant, jumping up and down excitedly. ‘And

when I’ve chopped it all off and glued it to my head, I will look much prettier than you!’ she added, sneering at the hairdresser.

The demon hairdresser glared at the assistant.

‘Wanna bet?’ she snapped.

As the assistant skipped away to a room at the back of the shop, the hairdresser began working frantically on my messy mop with her long bony fingers. With grim determination she scooped and groped and twirled handfuls of hair, sculpting and shaping it like a big crazy bird’s nest.

Mum occasionally peered over her magazine at me, but she was obviously just making sure I hadn’t scarpered. She paid no attention to the terrible things that were happening on top of my head!

The demon curled some of my hair into ringlets and braided other bits into plaits. There were a couple of bunches on top of my head and other bits just sticking up all over the place.

Finally, when every hair had been dealt with, the demon hairdresser grabbed a massive tin of hairspray and squirted a big stinky cloud of it all over my head.

She stepped back to admire her handiwork.

I scowled in the mirror at the horrible hairy sculpture on my head.

But, looking on the bright side, I decided there was nothing worse she could do because there was no more hair left to do it with.

‘Hmmm,’ said the demon, looking around the salon.

Suddenly the hairdresser smiled as she spied a large display of hair decorations – bows and ribbons and plastic flowers.

GULP!

Wheeling the whole display case over to my chair the demon began sticking the bows and ribbons and plastic flowers on to my hideous hairdo. She crammed on as many as possible, grinning like a mad thing as my head grew heavier and heavier.

Eventually she stepped back again to survey her creation.

‘Perfect!’ she hissed.

I looked in the mirror at Mum, hoping she’d notice the massive girly mess on my head and demand to know what was going on, but she’d fallen asleep under the warmth of the dryer.

So much for keeping an eye on me!

With Mum fast asleep I suppose I could have legged it, but that would have meant running down the high street with THAT on my head, which wasn’t really much of an option. In fact my hair was so scary I would have happily shaved it all off just to get rid of it – but I didn’t much like the idea of a demon running around with my hair glued to her head!

There had to be another way.

The demon approached the chair again, smiled an evil smile and drew a set of buzzing hair clippers from her holster!

‘Time to harvest my pretty new hair!’ she squealed excitedly.

As the demon hairdresser leaned in to shear off my hair, I looked around frantically. Then I peered into the sink in front of me and suddenly had an idea. Quick as a flash I grabbed the shower head, held it up to my head and curled my finger around the trigger…

WOOOOOSSSHHHHHH!

The ringlets and plaits were blasted out of my hair by the huge jet of water, quickly followed by the bows and ribbons and plastic flowers. They shot off my head one by one and splattered the startled demon.

‘ARRRRRGGGGHHH!’ she screamed.

Although I think she was mostly screaming at the state of my hair.

The scream caused the assistant to come running from the back of the shop. She was holding a gooey paintbrush and had already covered half of her horny head with glue!

When she saw the soggy hairdresser and my soaking mop, the demon assistant began screaming too, although she was screaming with laughter.

The demon hairdresser turned around slowly and flared her hairy nostrils.

‘ARRRRRGGGGHHH!’ she screamed again, but this time with anger.

Suddenly the hairdresser leapt into the air and landed on the assistant’s back!

To hold on she clasped her hands around the gluey horn on the sticky head and immediately stuck fast.

In the Stetson the demon hairdresser looked like a cowboy riding a baby rhinoceros.

The pair crashed around the Saloon Salon stuck firmly together, wailing and growling wildly.

Which I have to admit was very funny to watch.

Then I realized I wasn’t the only one watching.

Mum was gawping at the demons with her mouth hanging open. She immediately turned to me and narrowed her eyes – and I’d seen that look before. It was the look that meant I was about to get blamed for everything!

Mum stepped out of the hairdryer and stormed over to me.

‘What on earth have you been up to?’ she demanded.

I was about to blurt out something about demons gluing hair on their heads, but then I stared up at Mum with a very worried look on my face.

‘Er, Mum…’ I said.

‘What?’ she snapped, annoyed that I was changing the subject.

‘Have you looked in the mirror?’

I said.

‘Have I looked in the mirror?’ She frowned. ‘Well, no, but…’

Mum’s eyes caught her reflection and her jaw immediately dropped.

‘ARRRRRGGGGHHHH!’ she screamed.

Now demons are pretty scary – but they’re nowhere near as scary as Mum when she’s angry. And when Mum looked up and saw her large, frizzy, frazzled hair in the mirror she became madder than I’ve ever seen her before (meaning she was REALLY mad)! While Mum was busy swinging her handbag at the heap of wrestling demons, I quickly combed my wet hair to make it look neat and nerdy with a side parting, and tucked all the scruffy bits away behind my ears.

It looked very uncool.

I turned back just in time to see the two terrified demons running out of the door as fast as the assistant’s short legs would carry them.

It seemed no amount of hair was worth getting a battering from Mum and they continued to leg it all the way along the high street (which must have startled a few shoppers!).

Mum took a deep breath, pulled on her coat and shouldered her handbag.

‘We’re leaving!’ she said calmly. Crossing the Saloon Salon I looked down and saw a Stetson; it had dropped from the demon rhino-rider as she ducked through the doorway.

I picked it up and offered it to Mum.

‘You could put this on for now?’ I said, frowning at Mum’s scary hair.

Mum looked at the hat, glanced at her hair once again in the mirror and quickly crammed it on her head.

‘Well, at least you look tidy, pardner,’ she sighed, patting my damp head.

If Mum realized I’d dodged the nerdy haircut, she didn’t say anything or make another appointment for me, not for a while anyway. She was far too busy making appointments to sort out her own demon hairdo! PHEW!

Of course Mum didn’t know she’d done battle with two demons – she thought she’d done battle with two very bad hairdressers. But either way Mum had rounded up the demons, and run them out of town.

And I wasn’t the least cool kid in school.

Mum and Dad usually take me to the beach during the summer holidays. This year Mum refused to go because she said it held too many painful memories, and she still didn’t feel comfortable showing her face there.

‘And you can take that look off your face right now, young man,’ she snapped, eyeing me through the car’s rear-view mirror. ‘You have no one to blame but yourself!’

The truth is that last year I got into loads of trouble with a sand monster and it all ended with me, Mum and Dad being escorted from the beach by the police because they said I was terrorizing the other holidaymakers (it wasn’t me, it was the sand monster, but I’ll tell you about that another time).

This year we were going to stay in a castle for the weekend, which did sound fun – but not as much fun as snorkelling in the sea. So I made a point of sulking in the back of the car for the two whole hours it took to drive there.

When we arrived I continued to sulk because the castle turned out to be no fun at all! No dungeons, no suits of armour and nothing at all for kids to do. It was like a big castle-shaped hotel with no TV. And because it was in the middle of nowhere, I couldn’t even nag Mum and Dad to take me into town to a cinema or an arcade.

So I was stuck for the whole weekend with nothing to do.

On the first day nothing much happened.

Mum wandered around the castle grounds and got really excited about the rose bushes. Dad followed Mum with a guidebook, pointing out statues and other things that were supposed to be interesting. While I trailed along behind both of them yawning as loud as I could.

By the end of the day Mum said she’d had just about enough of my sulking. She said if I wasn’t interested in all the wonderful historic things in the castle then I might as well go to bed – and sent me to my room.

And that’s when things finally got interesting.

I was sitting on my bed reading by torchlight (because I wasn’t tired and there was nothing else to do) when I heard a strange noise coming from under the bed.

I closed my book and listened carefully until I heard it again.

Clang, Clang, Clang!

Because it wasn’t a growling sound or a screaming sound (which would have been really scary – especially in a creepy old castle), I leaned over the bed and shone my torch underneath to find out what it was. But there was nothing there except a few balls of fluff on the dusty stone floor, and balls of fluff don’t make clanging sounds (in fact I don’t think balls of fluff make any sounds at all).

I shrugged and was about to leave it when I heard the noise again, but this time the fluff balls moved with a draught and I could see something sticking out of the floor.

Climbing down I reached under the bed, swept the dust away and found a small piece of rope attached to an old trapdoor!

I’d like to say I took a moment to think about it and considered not investigating the noise, so I could stay out of trouble (especially after what happened on the last holiday). But I was SO bored I didn’t see that I had much of a choice.

I pulled on the rope and the door creaked open.

Propping the trapdoor open with my book, I slid under the bed on my belly. Shining the torch down the dark hole in the floor I saw narrow stone steps leading to a passageway that ran directly under my room.

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

The sound made me jump; it was much louder with the door open and it seemed to echo through the passage. I was tempted to shut the trapdoor and forget all about it. It was very dark and anything could be lurking down there.

But then I remembered how bored I’d been all day and decided a bit of exploring was just what I needed.

It was probably just some rusty old pipes clanging anyway.

As I reached the bottom step I stopped and pointed the beam of light down the passageway (just to make sure nothing was lurking). It seemed to go on forever and my torch wasn’t bright enough to see what was up ahead, but I was already down there and decided to go a little further just to see where it went.

It felt like I’d been walking for ages when the narrow passage took a sharp bend to the left, and turning the corner I discovered a large wooden door ahead of me.

CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!

I jumped back with fright and dropped my torch, and as it hit the stone floor I heard the bulb crack and the light immediately went out!

GULP!

Looking around I was surprised to find the tunnel wasn’t pitch black as it should have been. There was light coming from the other side of the door, flickering through the keyhole and between the gaps in the wood.

I guessed I’d probably found a tunnel that led to the castle kitchen or something boring like that, and the noise was probably just the clanging of saucepans. So I stepped up to the door and peered through the keyhole.

Well, it definitely wasn’t the kitchen!

I hadn’t actually seen the castle’s kitchen, although I was pretty sure it would have electric light bulbs like the rest of the castle, and this room was lit with two flaming torches in iron holders on the wall!

I couldn’t see much else through the keyhole and still had no idea what was making the clanging sound, but I also didn’t want to go back the way I’d come without my torch.

I took a deep breath, lifted the latch and pushed the door open.

Suddenly a tall metal figure lurched across the room in my direction swinging a giant axe!

‘ARRRRRGGGGGGHHH!’ I screamed as the axe thunked into the wood above my head.

I gazed up at the knight in shining armour (although the armour wasn’t very shiny – it was dull and dusty and looked rusted around the joints). But the knight didn’t look down. In fact I think he couldn’t look down because the neck of the armour was so rusted.

Which meant he probably hadn’t even seen me.

As I suspected the knight just pulled the axe from the door and lurched off in the opposite direction, crashing into furniture along the way. He didn’t seem able to bend his knees either, so he looked like a great metal zombie.

The room appeared to be a dining hall. It had a long wooden table with metal plates and cups on it, but there was no food on them and everything was covered in dust and thick stringy cobwebs. There were shields and tapestries on the walls and racks of spears and swords at one end.

‘Hello?’ I yelled, as the knight crashed into the wall with a great big CLANG!

The knight was about to lurch in another direction when he stopped suddenly and shuffled around to face me (which took him quite a while).

‘Are you an actor?’ I said, because Dad had mentioned that sometimes actors came to the castle, dressed up in old-fashioned clothes and put on medieval shows for the guests (Mum said she’d like to be a damsel in distress, whatever that is).

‘Mmmf mmm mtttthhhh!’ the knight said, although I couldn’t understand what he was saying because everything was muffled inside his helmet.

‘Eh?’ I said, moving closer. ‘I can’t hear you.’

‘Mmmf mmm mtttthhhh!’ the knight mumbled again impatiently. This time he was trying to point to his helmet and the effort nearly made him topple over.

With a closer look I could see all the hinges on the helmet had rusted shut and the grille across the front was blocked up with dust and cobwebs. He obviously couldn’t see anything which explained why he was lurching around and bumping into things.

I suddenly realized an armed knight who couldn’t see what he was doing wasn’t a good idea, so I yanked the axe out of his hand and put it down on the table (it was really heavy and landed with a thud).

A grumbling sound came from inside the helmet – but I ignored it.

I told the knight to stay where he was and went over to the rack of spears and swords to find something to prise the helmet open. Instead I found a tin of grease and an old rag, which was even better.

Pulling a stool over to the knight I stepped up and started rubbing away the rust with a big dollop of grease. It took a while but eventually I managed to free the grille part of the helmet and flipped it up.

‘ARRRRRGGGGGGHHH!’

I screamed, and fell backwards off the stool.

I had no idea who or what I would find inside the helmet – but I’d definitely expected to find something! Instead what I found was nothing but a few stringy cobwebs.

The knight didn’t have a head!

Thinking about it, the CLANG, CLANG, CLANGING sound had been pretty hollow – which meant he probably didn’t have a body either!

So I did what any sensible person would do – I legged it in the direction of the tunnel, not caring any more how dark it was!

Suddenly the knight spoke in a strange tinny voice that seemed to vibrate and echo around his armour.

‘I do beg your pardon,’ he said. ‘It was not my intention to give you a fright.’

I stopped before reaching the door and glanced back.

The knight was waving at me; at least his helmet was pointing in my direction and his metal glove was creaking from side to side, which seemed friendly enough. And he wasn’t holding an axe any more so there wasn’t any real reason to be scared.

‘Are you a ghost?’ I said, because when you’re not sure it’s always best to ask.

‘Um, yes,’ said the ghost.

‘I suppose I am.’

‘Then why can’t I see you?’ I said. Because I’ve seen ghosts before and this was the first ghost I’d seen that I couldn’t actually see!

The suit of armour shrugged as best he could, which didn’t look much like a shrug and was very noisy as metal rubbed against metal.

I was now more curious than scared of the ghost I couldn’t see, so I went back over to get a closer look. Standing back up on the stool I held the sides of the metal helmet and peered inside.

‘Helloooooooo?’ I called into the empty armour, and my voice echoed through his belly and limbs.

‘Please don’t do that,’ said the knight, and his voice was so close to my head it made me jump.

‘Sorry,’ I said, realizing that shouting into his armour was probably quite a rude thing to do.

‘Do you think you could rub some of that grease on my joints?’ said the knight. ‘I seem to have rusted up since they stopped cleaning me and it has restricted my movements somewhat.’

‘Can’t you just step out of the armour?’ I said, because ghosts can usually walk through walls and stuff, so I couldn’t see the armour being much of a problem.

‘Unfortunately, no,’ said the ghost, pulling the face grille back into place with a clang. ‘I’m somehow attached to it. Some ghosts have a whole castle to haunt, while I appear to be stuck with this wretched suit of armour.’

‘Can’t you haunt the castle in the armour?’ I said, dolloping grease on the metal knees and elbows and working it in with the rag to free them up. ‘That would be cool! Especially if you carried the axe with you!’

‘Oh, I used to, dear boy, and it was a lot of fun,’ laughed the ghost. ‘But then one day my helmet rusted up and I couldn’t find my way out of this secret room. And I’ve been stuck here ever since.’

‘People must have heard you trying to get out,’ I said. ‘I heard you.’

The suit of armour shrugged again, but this time it looked like a proper shrug because his elbows and shoulder joints were moving freely.

The ghost gave an excited gasp.

‘I can move!’ he said, reaching his arms high in the air and swinging them around (which reminded me of when Mum does her aerobic exercises). ‘Thank you so very much. Is there anything I can do to return the favour?’

‘Well…’ I said, scratching my head and pretending to think about it, although I immediately knew what I wanted. ‘There is one thing you could do, if you don’t mind.’

‘I am your humble servant,’ said the knight, bowing freely.

‘We have to get you out of here first, though,’ I said.

The suit of armour looked around at the walls, scratched the top of his helmet with his metal-fingered glove and then led me over to the wall. He counted the stones while nodding his head from side to side and then stepped forward.

‘I can’t walk through walls!’ I gasped.

‘Neither can I,’ said the knight. He reached forward and pushed one of the stones, which slid into the wall. Suddenly a whole section of wall creaked open like a giant stone door.

‘I’ve been trying to find that brick for years!’ sighed the knight. ‘But with my grille clogged up, I couldn’t see a thing.’

Which definitely explained all the CLANG, CLANG, CLANGING!

Suddenly I remembered something and quickly ran back to the table.

‘You’ll be needing this!’ I said, grabbing the axe.

The secret door led into the main hallway of the castle and luckily there was no one around to see us. They would definitely have got a fright if they’d seen a knight with an axe stepping through the wall.

I led the knight carefully up the stairs and along the corridor until we reached the door of my parents’ room.

‘If you could just burst through the door and wave your axe around in the air, that would be great,’ I whispered.

‘No chopping?’ asked the knight.

‘NO!’ I gasped. ‘No chopping at all!’

The knight nodded.

‘OK, I have to go to my room and pack my bags now,’ I said, patting the knight on the shoulder. ‘It was very nice meeting you.’

‘You’re leaving the castle?’ the knight said, and sounded disappointed.

I glanced at the door to Mum and Dad’s room.

‘I think I will be very soon,’ I smiled, and then legged it down the corridor.

From my room I first heard the screams, followed by the yells, followed by running footsteps and the sound of Mum and Dad hammering on my door.

I grabbed my rucksack and stepped out into the corridor.

‘WE’RE LEAVING!’ gasped Mum and Dad together.

‘Oh, I was just beginning to enjoy myself!’ I said. ‘Castles are full of cool stuff!’

‘Well, you’ll just have to make do with the beach instead!’ Mum snapped, grabbing my arm and dragging me down the corridor. ‘And I don’t want to hear another word about it!’

‘OK,’ I said, smiling to myself.

Mum and Dad hurried me down the stairs and out through the entrance hall, where I saw the knight standing against the wall. The castle staff were all gathered around him and the manager was rubbing his chin.

‘Where on earth did he come from?’ he said to the cleaner.

‘I have no idea,’ said the cleaner, flicking over the knight’s armour with a feather duster. ‘But first thing tomorrow morning I’m going to give him a really good polish!’

Dad shielded Mum’s eyes as they passed the knight, and as I tagged along behind I saw him give a tiny wave with his metal gauntlet.