Lucy
I detestmyself as I watch the elegant cityscape of pre-war Budapest slip away into crumbling soviet tower blocks and then even those thin out and the ubiquitous out of town shopping malls appear, brightly lit signs with proclamations in Hungarian for the usual brands. The language might change, but the message remains the same.
I didn’t want to leave my friends. Even more, I didn’t want to tell them I’d already gone in a message to the group chat. The chat I’ve muted as the bus continues towards the airport. I made up some stupid thing about a work emergency, and the chorus of booing which followed was hard to take.
Because it was a lie.
I’m running from vampires, or rather one vampire in particular. Plus once I get home (home, ha!) I’ve got the fall out to contend with from my uncle who will be most displeased I failed him.
I’ve already had three voice messages, none of which I’ve listened to.
This shouldn’t be how it is. I should be having fun like my friends. I should be carefree, not living a double life. I’m single,I’m pregnant. I’m probably going to lose my job, my security, and my freedom.
My life is a complete and utter mess. The one-night stand, the swift and pointless sex which I hardly even remember, has left me with a legacy I’m going to have to deal with forever. I don’t even remember his name, let alone have any contact details. And from what few details which are clear from that night, I doubt he would even want to know. He was hardly my type, and I was hardly his. I’d just had too much to drink and a hard day at the office. He was looking for a fumble in the dark.
I place my hand protectively over my stomach. Not that I’m showing yet, of course. But still, there is a life inside me, one which I am a hundred percent sure will not end up like me. The legacy of the Van Helsings ends with me. I will not pass it on to my baby. Monsters are a part of this world now, and it’s about time the family joined the twenty-first century.
I only agreed to do this job because I’d decided it was my last one. And because my uncle was livid after what happened with the Monster Force back in London. It was a way of putting distance between us in more ways than one.
The bus chugs around the corner and up to the terminal building. I swipe away a tear which has escaped down my cheek and pick up my bag, following the rest of the passengers out into the chilly air of a Budapest winter.
Last time I was here, it was on a private plane with a suite of black SUV’s whisking us away to the swankiest hotel I’ve ever stayed in. This time, I enter the terminal building along with everyone else and make my way to the airline sales desk.
“I’d like a ticket for the one-thirty flight to London Heathrow,” I say to the girl behind the counter, embarrassed I can’t say the words in Hungarian, but so far I’ve managedplease,thank you,andI’ll have a chardonnay.
It’s going to take a while to pick the rest up, and now there’s no point as I’m never going to be coming back here. Even to visit my best friend in all the world.
I do my level best not to let the tears brimming in my eyes fall.
“Passport,” the girl says, holding out a perfectly manicured hand.
I give it to her, thankful she’s concentrated on typing on her keyboard and staring at her screen.
“Only first class left,” she says, and reads out a telephone number of Hungarian Forint.
“How much is that in pounds?” I ask, embarrassment flushing my cheeks and drying my tears temporarily.
“Three thousand five hundred and sixty-two,” she says slowly in accented English.
“What about later flights?” I ask, a creeping horror starting in my stomach because I can’t afford that sort of price. “I need to leave Budapest today.”
She goes back to typing, and I’m only marginally relieved she doesn’t judge me. I’d rather not hang around the airport all day, but providing I can leave before nightfall, I don’t really care if I have to endure duty free for the next five hours.
“You have any hold luggage?”
“No,” I say hopefully.
She continues typing. Her eyes scan her screen. I am beginning to think I’m in luck.
“All fully booked, except first class.” She looks back at me expectantly.
I check around me at the airport. It’s a weekday and it’s pretty quiet.
“All full?”
“Yes.” She looks at me like I’m an imbecile. “Except first class.”
“I can’t afford first class.”
