Monstrous Maud: Freaky Sleepover Read online

  First published in Great Britain in 2012 by Buster Books,

  an imprint of Michael O’Mara Books Limited,

  9 Lion Yard, Tremadoc Road, London SW4 7NQ

  www.busterbooks.co.uk

  www.monstrousmaud.co.uk

  Series created by Working Partners Limited

  Text copyright © Working Partners Limited 2012

  Cover design by Nicola Theobald

  Illustration copyright © Buster Books 2012

  Illustrations by Sarah Horne

  ™ copyright © House Industries

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated 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.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN: 978-1-78055-074-9 in paperback print format

  ISBN: 978-1-78055-089-3 in Epub format

  ISBN: 978-1-78055-088-6 in Mobipocket format

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  Papers used by Michael O’Mara Books are natural, recyclable products made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.

  Printed and bound in July 2012 by CPI Group (UK) Ltd,

  108 Beddington Lane, Croydon, CR0 4YY, United Kingdom

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Maud Montague looked around the bedroom she shared with her twin sister Milly. The room was divided into two very different halves. Maud’s half had jet-black wallpaper, and was so cluttered you couldn’t see the carpet. Beneath Maud’s bed was her pet rat Quentin’s daytime den, made of old twigs and bits of cardboard box.

  “You’re such a messy-potamus,” said Milly. “No wonder you can never find anything!”

  Milly’s half had soppy pink wallpaper. She’d packed all her things away in her lilac chest of drawers, except for her teddy bears and dolls, which she’d lined up on top in order of size.

  “I tidied up once and I was looking for stuff for weeks,” said Maud. “This way, I know exactly where everything is.”

  Milly buttoned her creaseless, navy blue blazer in front of her full-length mirror. “Perfect,” she said. “Now for yummy porridge.” She ran downstairs, singing to herself.

  Maud followed her sister downstairs, passing the family portraits and waving at the one of her favourite ancestor, Great-aunt Ethel. She opened the dining-room door, sat down between her mum and dad, and selected a piece of toast from the metal rack.

  Mr Montague was examining a car’s exhaust pipe, and leaving an oily stain on the white tablecloth.

  His wife was carefully checking through a box of rubber bats she’d bought for the upcoming performance of Dracula at their local theatre. She was in charge of props and costumes.

  “Are you looking forward to your sleepover on Saturday, Milly?” asked Mr Montague.

  Milly’s sleepover! Maud had completely forgotten about it. She had told her parents she’d ask some friends along too, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maud’s friends were quite … unusual. She didn’t think they would get on with Milly.

  “It’s going to be brillingtons,” said Milly. “Poppy Simpkins is coming, and Alice Jones and Suzie Singh, and we’re going to learn the new dance routine by the Sparkle Club Girls. They’re my favourite band of all time. We can teach you, too, if you like, Maud.”

  Maud was just swallowing a mouthful of toast as Milly said this, but she managed to keep it down.

  “Have you invited anyone, Maud?” asked Mrs Montague.

  Maud didn’t really want to ask anyone to the sleepover, because Maud had a secret. While Milly went to Primrose Towers – a prim girls’ school – Maud went to a school for vampires, werewolves, ghosts, witches and other monsters. Even though Maud’s great-aunt Ethel was the head teacher, she was a ghost herself. Nobody else in the family knew Rotwood wasn’t an ordinary school. If Milly met Maud’s monster friends, it would be difficult to stop her family finding out.

  “Of course she hasn’t,” said Milly, licking her porridgey lips. “Maud hasn’t got any friends.”

  “Actually I’ve got plenty,” said Maud.

  “It’s just a shame these so-called friends are all busy on Saturday,” snorted Milly.

  “Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” said Maud. “Because I’ve already asked … er … two of them to come along. And they’ve both agreed.”

  “Well, that sounds like it will be fun for everyone,” said Mrs Montague. She’d just finished tying a piece of elastic to one of the fake bats, and she was flapping it up and down.

  “I vont to bite your neck,” said Mrs Montague. “Mwa ha ha!”

  Maud was tempted to tell her mum that vampires didn’t really talk like that. And she should know – there were several at Rotwood.

  “Tooth time!” announced Milly and she darted upstairs. Milly brushed her teeth three times every morning, first with mint-flavoured paste, then with baking soda and then with a lemon and herb mixture.

  “Isn’t your Dracula performance on Saturday night?” Maud asked her mum.

  “That’s right, petal,” said Mrs Montague, “and Tracy’s babysitting.”

  “Maybe I could help with that instead of staying here for the sleepover,” said Maud.

  “Oh no,” said Maud’s mum. “I’ll be running around looking after the props, and your dad will be up in the lighting box, so there won’t be anyone to keep an eye on you.”

  “I won’t need anyone to keep an eye on me,” said Maud.

  Mr Montague raised an eyebrow. “You said that about your sister’s ballet recital.”

  When Maud had gone to her sister’s ballet performance, her pet rat had escaped on to the stage and caused havoc.

  “But I won’t bring Quentin this time,” said Maud. “It would be far too scary for him.”

  “It’s too late now anyway,” said Mrs Montague. “You’ve already invited your friends to the sleepover.”

  “I suppose so,” said Maud, and she nipped off to the garage to check on Quentin. On the way, she grabbed a carton of milk and a packet of crisps so she could top up his supplies. He squeaked with delight as she emptied the crisps into his bowl.

  “What am I going to do, Quentin?” asked Maud. “I’ve promised to bring a couple of friends from school along, and I haven’t got a clue who to invite.” She watched Quentin tuck into the snacks, blissfully ignoring her. “If those Primrose Towers girls thought you were fearsome,” Maud muttered, “wait until they meet the monsters from Rotwood.”

  Maud was sitting in the cavernous assembly hall of Rotwood School, while the pupils sang their morning hymns.

  All things dark and horrible,

  All creatures cruel and sly,

  All things dim and terrible,

  That love to make kids cry …

  She looked at her friends. Who on earth could she invite to the sleepover without the Primrose Towers girls discovering her monster secret?

  Sitting to Maud’s left was Paprika, who was half vampire and half human. He had pale white skin, slicked-back hair and a long black cape, but could just about pass for human – as long as he didn’t smile and show off his fangs. Even better, Pa
prika was the only student at Rotwood who knew that Maud was a human girl and only pretending to be a monster.

  Sitting to Maud’s right was Wilf, a werewolf with thick brown hair covering his face and hands. It would be more difficult to convince her family that he was normal. Maybe she could wrap him in bandages and pretend he’d been in an accident. The same went for Martin the mummy – and at least he came already wrapped.

  Sitting next to Wilf was Zombie Zak, who had rotting grey skin and glassy, sunken eyes. Maud didn’t think she could invite him. His arm might drop off halfway through a dance routine.

  Poisonous Penelope was sitting at the end. She was a witch with straggly purple hair, wearing a pointed black hat. She looked a lot more human than most of the Rotwood pupils, but Maud didn’t think it would be a good idea to invite her. She’d only spend the whole time looking for new ways to be horrible to everyone.

  But she had to invite someone, because her family were expecting her to.

  When the hymn had finished, all the pupils sat down on the hard wooden pews. The Head of Rotwood – Maud’s great-aunt Ethel – walked through the lectern at the front of the hall.

  “Mr Quasimodo the caretaker will be taking next week off in light of his recent workload,” said the Head. She adjusted her large round glasses and glared at Maud.

  Maud shrank down in her pew, blushing with shame. A couple of weeks ago, she’d left the door to the school greenhouse open, making Venus flytraps grow over the playing fields. It had taken the poor caretaker ages to chop them all down.

  “While Mr Quasimodo’s away,” continued the Head, “I’ll need someone to look after his pet hamster, Violet. Any volunteers?”

  Cries of horror echoed around the hall.

  “Who would want that thing in their house?” asked Oscar, the boy with a detachable head.

  “I could never sleep with something like that watching me,” said Bart Bones, a skeleton sitting next to him.

  Hardly a surprise, thought Maud. Rotwood pupils hated anything cute or cuddly. Furry rodents were as terrifying to them as snakes and spiders were to humans.

  “Come on now,” said the Head. “There must be someone …”

  Maud felt her right arm tingle. It shot up into the air as if yanked by an invisible string.

  “Excellent, Maud,” said the Head. “It’s so wonderful to see someone willing to take responsibility.”

  Maud tried to pull her right arm down with her left, but it was no use. It was stuck in the air. She heard a faint muttering from the back of the hall and turned around to see Poisonous Penelope holding her hands out and mouthing a spell.

  As soon as Penelope saw she’d been spotted, she stopped, and Maud’s arm fell back down again. Maud looked at the front of the hall, ignoring Penelope. She didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing her angry.

  After they’d sung ‘Give Me Gloom in my Heart’, the pupils filed out of the assembly hall to their morning lessons. Maud caught up with Wilf and Paprika.

  “What are you guys doing on Saturday night?” she asked.

  “My parents are going out,” said Paprika. “So Grandpa’s coming round to look after me. I’m not looking forward to it, though. He insists that I sleep in a coffin in the basement. He’s so old-fashioned.”

  “I’m going to play Fetch 2: Return of the Stick,” said Wilf. “It’s totally addictive. Why?”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to come to a sleepover at my house instead,” said Maud.

  “Count me in,” said Wilf. “That sounds monstrous!”

  “Me too,” said Paprika. “We can cancel Grandpa, and I won’t have to listen to any of his boring stories about the eighteenth century.”

  “Thanks, I’d love to,” said a voice from next to him. “I’m so glad someone remembered me for once.”

  The voice belonged to Invisible Isabel. It would be mean to say she couldn’t come now. At least Isabel wouldn’t scare the Primrose Towers girls. They wouldn’t even know she was there.

  Maud was just about to go upstairs to her classroom, when Mr Quasimodo opened the door to his office and beckoned her in with a grunt.

  The office was one of the few places Maud had seen that was even messier than her half of the bedroom. The entire floor was covered with empty paint pots, squashed tubes of glue and broken mops. Maud found it strange that a man who was meant to keep an entire school tidy couldn’t even look after his own office.

  “You take care,” said Mr Quasimodo, thrusting a metal cage at Maud. Inside the cage was a hamster with pure white fur. It was sitting perfectly still at the bottom of the cage, staring up at Maud with vivid violet eyes.

  “Read instructions,” he said, handing Maud a scrap of paper that had been ripped from a notepad.

  “Thanks,” said Maud. “I hope you enjoy your holiday. Where are you going, by the way? On a tour of Victorian graveyards? A trip to a castle in Transylvania? Or are you bell-ringing in Paris again?”

  “Costa Del Sol,” said Mr Quasimodo. “Fun and sun.”

  He ushered her out of the office and slammed the door. Unfortunately, this made the scrap of paper blow out of Maud’s hand. She tried to run after it, but it fluttered out of the window.

  Maud heard a snigger behind her in the corridor and turned to see a flash of purple hair disappearing around the corner. Penelope?

  Oh well. Maud didn’t need the instructions anyway. She knew plenty about looking after rodents, thanks to Quentin.

  But as she made her way down the corridor, Maud began to wonder: it was rather odd that Mr Quasimodo had needed to write a full page of notes.

  How hard could it be to care for a hamster?

  It was early Saturday evening, and Maud’s mum was looking for her scissors. She was preparing for the opening night of the Dracula musical.

  “Found them!” said Mrs Montague. “Now where did I put my needle and thread?”

  “You’re holding them,” said Maud.

  “This is going to be a disaster,” said Mrs Montague, chopping a strip of material from the back of a costume.

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” said Mr Montague.

  Maud wasn’t sure, though. She had almost snorted out her orange juice when she’d found out that the actress playing the damsel in distress was Miss Bloom, her old teacher from Primrose Towers. Maud remembered her lank brown hair and lilac cardigan. She couldn’t think of anyone less likely to stand on a moonlit veranda in a ballgown while a vampire chomped into her neck.

  “No, it won’t,” said Mrs Montague. “The dress is all wrong …”

  Just then, Milly flounced into the living room and shouted, “Hurrah! It’s sleepover Saturday!”

  Milly broke into her Sparkle Club Girls dance routine, which involved spinning around and juddering as if she was being electrocuted.

  “You girls must promise to be good for the babysitter tonight,” said Mrs Montague, frantically stitching.

  Maud and Milly groaned together. Maud didn’t agree with her sister on much, but they both disliked Tracy. She was a sixteen-year-old from across the street, whose idea of babysitting was to stare at the TV screen, pausing only to shout at them if they made the slightest bit of noise.

  The doorbell rang, and Milly darted off to answer it. A few moments later, she skipped back in, followed by her friends Poppy, Alice and Suzie.

  “Thanks for having us, Mr and Mrs Montague,” they chimed in perfect harmony.

  Maud sighed. It was going to be a long night.

  “Hello, Maud,” said Poppy. “Are you enjoying your new school?”

  “It’s alright,” said Maud. She wanted to say that it was brilliant and that Fright Classes were the best lessons ever, but she didn’t want to give too much away. “How’s Primrose Towers?”

  “Much quieter since you left,” said Poppy.

  They were interrupted by a loud thumping on the roof.

  “Ow!” shouted a voice from outside. Maud dashed out into the garden and found Paprika lying
face down, with his cape rumpled over the back of his head.

  “What happened?” asked Maud.

  “Mum wouldn’t give me money for the bus,” said Paprika, getting up and smoothing his hair down. “She told me to fly. But next door’s chimney got in the way.”

  Maud ushered him inside and into the living room. “Everyone, this is Paprika,” she said.

  “Hello, Paprika,” said Mr Montague. “That’s an unusual name. Is it Polish?”

  “Maybe,” said Paprika. “My mum’s family is from Transylvania. That’s near Poland, isn’t it?”

  “Excuse me,” said Milly, narrowing her eyes at Paprika. “No boys allowed at sleepovers. It’s against the rules.”

  “What rules?” said Maud.

  Milly folded her arms and looked over to their mum, but Mrs Montague just said, “You mustn’t be unpleasant to Maud’s friends, dear.”

  “Talking of friends, I forgot to tell you that Wilf can’t come,” said Mr Montague. “His parents called to say that he’s going out with his family tonight.”

  Maud glanced out of the window, where the autumn sky was already darkening. It seemed like a strange time for a family outing.

  “It’s going to be a full moon tonight,” whispered Paprika. “Werewolves always have family gatherings on full moons. It’s tradition. Like when humans have barbecues on rainy bank holidays.”

  “Only one friend, Maud?” said Suzie. “I suppose that is an improvement.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Mr Montague. “I’ve invited that other nice friend of yours instead.”

  “Which nice friend?” asked Maud. Her mum had only ever met Penelope, but there was nothing nice about her.

  The doorbell chimed again. Maud answered it to find Penelope standing there with a sly grin on her face. She’d taken off her pointed hat and brushed her purple hair into a neat centre parting.

  Penelope pushed past into the living room, and Maud tried to close the door. It seemed to be stuck, so she gave it a firmer shove.