Egbert

Mother Dearest

I'm euphoric when I come home, leaning against the front door as I shut it. The click of heels stabbing the marble floor alerts me to my mother's presence before my senses can. They're a lot duller now; it's something to do with the down side of an endorphin rush.

Mother glances down at me and when I get a hold of myself I look at her and roll my eyes.

. "What took you so long?"

"I was at school. I had some reading I wanted to catch up on." I half lie, technically I'm not lying at all if you count peeking at Mrs Cabot's upside down erotica novel over the desk as 'catching up on reading'. She nods and moves to strut up the spiral staircase but stops, looking me up and down.

"Egbert," Her mouth curves slowly over my name. Only she can take a name that sounds like a verbal fart and make it seem threatening. "You seem positively radiant. Have you fed?"

"No. I've started a new moisturising regime."

She narrows her eyes and carries on her way. Unaware that I was even holding my breath I sigh and stride to the kitchen. It's so much cleaner than it has been in the last week and I suppose the new maid is to thank. And just my luck, she's at the stove cooking something delicious. Compared to my father's cooking and take out, which we had to suffer through for the past week I would find dog poop delicious at this point. Father suggested at one point that my mother cook and that is the only time I've seen the most powerful vampire in the world look as if he's about to shit himself. In our last home, we had a small army of servants. The problem with that however is that there are more people to ask questions and notice the disappearances of their colleagues more, one of the many reasons we had to leave.

"Hey Gertrude" I heave myself onto one the stools at the kitchen island and watch as she adds oregano to the pot.

She doesn't smile or even look up, she ignores me with such concentration on her face.

"...How are you?" I try again. I knew she'd get caught giving us a lift. My mother has probably scared the life out of her.

I finally get a reaction. "M-me?" Her voice is shockingly different to what it was in the car. It's high pitched and almost sweet.

I nod, "There's only one Gertrude here." I joke and regret it at once. She visibly flinches.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude I was just making a joke Gertrude."

Apprehension knots over her face.

"You don't need to be afraid of me, remember? I'm nothing like my parents." Seriously why is she so different to when she was in the car? This is ridiculous.

"My name... It's not...Gertrude."

"My bad, how do I pronounce it?"

"It's Pen-Illoona."

"Penilloona?" That's a pretty big mispronunciation I must have made.

She looks down. "No sir, just Illoona."

"Oh. Then why did you say it was Gertrude in the car?" I grab some milk from the fridge and strawberry powder from the cupboard while she thinks on her response.

"Sorry sir, I don't remember that..."

This means either two things; she's a weird liar or she didn't tell me her name was Gertrude. I've got my money on weird liar. "This morning when you dropped me to school, you told me your name was Gertrude."

She nods rapidly, shutting the hob and wiping her hands on her apron. "Of course, yes. My name is Gertrude, sir."

"Look, tell me honestly if you remember this. Don't just lie to appease me. I won't hurt you either way."