turned to Margaret. She thought of Bill, of that one kiss that had sent the blood rushing in her veins like lava. When he chose Wilma, then Alice over her, she was devastated. That was when she entered the order. Still, her face betrayed no emotion. It was an impassive, beautiful mask. 'Joe must go,' she said. 'It's no good. We hoped he, Clive, or one of the girls would be the answer, but the hunger is still there. Maybe if Clive and the girls had a child ...'
'No!' Bitsy said. 'It's too risky.'
'We've dabbled enough,' Magdalena said. 'Anyway, I've seen the way Rowena looks at Clive. Leave them be. Let dwarves be with dwarves.'
'Then Joe ...' Margaret mused.
'No!' Alice said sharply. 'I know he loves Vi, but I won't let him be destroyed, not like all of us.'

That night before she set off for McGilligans, Alice held her son close, knowing she had little time left with him. It was the only way to keep him safe. She thought of his beauty, the way men and women were drawn to him. She had seen the way Randy looked at him sometimes, always goading him into Greco Roman wrestling on the beach ...


Only little Clive understood what it meant to have a face that stopped traffic. When she saw them laughing together, she wished she could tell Joe Clive was his big brother. But Joe could never know.

He had to leave before he too fell prey to the black mask, the desire to keep that beautiful face just the way it was. People would do anything for eternal beauty. Why, they'd sell their soul. He'd be fine, Alice told herself. His unnatural strength and circus skills would come in handy in any number of jobs ...

The Council of the Black Mask

That was when the girls learned about the terrible hunger the Black Mask incited in its daughters.

"No they are too young," Bitsy had argued before the council introduced the mask to Violet and Swotsy early that summer. And the council had nodded, knowing what a heavy price the mask demanded.

That was when Sister Margaret stood up.

This was the Black Council, and it was the one place that Sister Margaret could be free of the secrets that plagued her life.

"This is the only thing I have to give my daughter," her voice echoed in the suddenly quiet room. "For eighteen years I have had to hide the fact that I even bore a child. Even her name that I gave her has been forgotten for that ridiculous nick name. Swotsy Mondy." She spat on the floor in disgust. "I seduced Gideon Stone would be the answer to the blood price, but his blood and his seed was too weak. Magdalena was wrong."

Magdalena, Rowena's aged and still beautiful mother shook her head. "We were never sure about him. It was your own yearning, Margaret."

Sister Margaret frowned, and even that did not dissipate her loveliness. "Neither was that Bill the answer!" she spat.

"He was never the man that I thought he could be," Alice said. Then looked sister Margaret in the eye, "But I know that you still wanted to be chosen for him. Don't you deny it. You always wanted him, even when just a girl."

Margaret looked away.

"Bill was not the answer to our struggle," Magdalena said. "Wilma's son, Alice's son, and your secret daughter Swot-- Monica, they were the result of our risk. All for naught. The hunger remains for human blood. My prophecy was wrong and I am sorry for it. I must have misread the signs."

"But my son..." Alice said. "He could be the key!"

"We cannot depend on another man to remove the curse of the blood lust from the blessing of beauty. We must do this ourselves. The girls must be introduced, and the boy--"

Magdalena stood up. They all had to look down to see her, but that did not matter.
"The boy must leave," Magdalena said and the women of the council...

7 is the magic number

done anything to be the perfect aunt. On the day he was due back from Holland with Alice, May tidied the house, imagining all the wonderful adventures that lay ahead of them. She just had time to wash the last of the facepacks off before she heard Alice's key in the door. She ran downstairs followed by a liquid stream of cats, rushing down the steps like mercury in her wake, yowling a greeting, relieved not to be alone in the house any longer with this maniac who blended their mother.

Joe rushed into the lamplit hall, glanced up as his aunt ran to greet him and froze in horror. As Alice pulled the key from the lock, he began to scream.

May left soon after that. Small town Suffolk was no place for her. She married an octogenarian billionaire with a feline obsession. Alone at home with a small child, Alice's high spirits didn't last long.
'Go play,' she would push Joe out of the kitchen door as one of her gentlemen arrived to do odd jobs around the house. 'Go find some friends your own age.'

And he did. When Randy and Violet were busy with their own families, Joe would wander out to the trailer park to play with Clive's kids. CJ became like the kid brother he never had. It was the only place he felt accepted, the only place where people didn't joke about his crazy cat aunt and Alice's drinking. The only place in the world he felt like the normal one. There were eight of them in one trailer - Rowena, Clive, their five children and her mother, poor Wilma's best friend .........

Cat-a-tonic

. . . of, well, in a sense, because of her jealousness. And infamous curiosity. How does that old saying go? ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’ Yes, and it continues, ‘But satisfaction brought her back’. But there is little satisfaction to be found here, that’s for sure.
No-one knows the exact story, but it is thought to go something like this: May, ever envious of her gorgeous sister, discovered the recipe for the secret beauty potion in the notebooks. She immediately decided that she’d have to try it out for herself. Alice was gone; what's to stop her. After a trip to Marwell’s Groceries & Greens, a short stop at the Chemists, a larcenous stroll through the neighbours’ herb garden and an amphibian hunt in the backyard frog pond, she was ready. She filled the oversized blender that Alice kept parked under the sink with the diverse, and somewhat unsavoury, ingredients. As she turned on the blender, it swirled into action, eventually liquefying everything into an amorphous black sludge. ‘Yuck’, was all she could think. ‘I’m going to smear that shit all over my face? Not very likely.’ Just then the phone rang. She left the blender running. It was Alice – she was going to be a few days late in coming home. She and Joe were having such fun together. The sisters chatted for a bit; May was a tad lonely, what with just the cats to talk to. Little did she know that as they spoke, Shadrach, the jet black Abyssinian, was leaning precariously over the blender from the overhanging shelf, fascinated by the swirling black mess. The cat became dizzy and slipped. And then Shadrach was falling, and then she, too, was part of the churning mess. It all happened so fast that she hadn’t even managed to squeeze out a solitary meow.
May came back from the phone conversation, more determined now than ever to smear the horrid stuff on her face. Alice had ended up blathering about how all the lads had been turning their heads wherever she and little Joe went. Since May was alone, she could have it on for the entire time Alice was gone, day and night. She'd just close the curtains. And then she’d surprise her at the door, ten times more beautiful than big Sis ever had been. In fact, she wouldn’t look at herself in the mirror the entire time, either. What fun! She’d surprise them both!

Cats

he was just a boy, and Alice had moved on too. Last he'd heard, she had stayed sober long enough to film some TV film, some kind of dancing. It sounded spooky to him - something unexpected, tarot cards, but it was very popular on TV in Suffolk ...

Bill stumbled out of the churchyard, his legs as heavy as lead. This is when you want your children to support you, he thought angrily. And what've I got? A hunchback and a bastard. 'Bill Sullivan, you're an idjit, ye get what ye deserve,' he imagined Wilma saying to him in her little sing-song voice. Already he was picturing her up there with the angels, her halo setting off her unnaturally beautiful skin.

Strangely, when her will was read the next day, she left her notebooks to Alice. Everyone knew Bill had been carrying on with her for years, so why Wilma would have left her anything, who knows? Alice was visiting family in Holland with her boy Joe when Wilma died. She'd had a tough time of it since Bill went back to his wife, and her sister May had come up from London to take care of the house and cats. May was in her element - everyone said she was more cat than human. When Wilma's notebooks were delivered by the solicitor's clerk, she couldn't resist reading them. By the time Alice returned with little Joe, her sister was unrecognisable because ...

Vanity

mobile phone, ripped it from the velcro wrapped around his calf. He pressed 1 - the number dialled automatically. It connected.
'Yeah, it's me, Monsieur.' he paused. As a barrage of questions hit him, he held the phone further from his ear. 'Shut up,' he said finally. 'Shut the fuck up. We both know what this is worth. My mother died looking not a moment older than the day she married my father Bill and the secret lies in this town. My mother was beautiful ...' he hesitated. 'I don't care what you say. After everything she'd been through, it was amazing she didn't turn out like her sister:
The voice on the other end of the line died down. 'You need me.' Joe said. 'That's why you dragged me home from Afghanistan. My mother knew how to keep herself beautiful - naturally.' The voice on the other end protested. 'Yeah, I know it will be hard to sell - it's black, it's sticky, it looks like tar - but what would you rather? To look likc Alice's sister? Yeah she was famous but ..' Joe took a deep cool breath of the night air. Nothing was how he remembered. Everything had changed.'My mother died beautiful. You need me because ...

... they would drive out to Bill's farm, and he wished Wilma could've cooked them breakfast. She'd died years ago, but they could still be a real family, just as Clive had always dreamt it could be. It was time for Joe to know - there was nothing stopping them now that Alice had finally drunk herself to death. He remembered going round on Christmas Eve to Joe's place, bringing him a Santa present - though it was really from Bill of course. He found Alice half conscious in a mess of unwrapped presents and paper.


As Clive limped through the street, snow crunching under his specially made thick black leather boots, he imagined a brighter future, where he and Joe would hang out together, go shooting, or just play some pool, watch the game. He saw Joe put his arm proudly round his hunched, deformed back and say 'Have you met my big brother Clive?' He pictured them, laughing round the Christmas tree as they exchanged presents. Maybe this year Bill would even get them that puppy he had always wanted.

He was lost in his thoughts as he cut down the alley at the side of Alice's house. He didn't notice the figure appear from the shadows behind him, or hear the footsteps following him, drowned out by the sound of the crashing surf.
'Hey Clive, where you going?'
Clive turned, confused. The street lamps flared behind the man as he approached. He squinted his eyes, trying to see who it was.
'Oh, it's you ...' he grumbled, and walked on.
The man caught his arm firmly. 'I said, where you going?' his voice was low, menacing.
'I'm going to tell him everything. He has a right to know ...'
'You don't want to do that.' As Clive fought to free himself, the man felt the gun knock against his hand. He pushed Clive hard against the alley wall and dragged the gun from his pocket, shook the rag free. Moonlight glimmered on the barrel.
'Now what's a dirty old cripple like you doing with a beauty like this?'
Clive watched the gun, mesmerised, eyes wide with fear as he realised what was about to happen. 'My Daddy gave it to me,' he said quietly. The other man was bigger, stronger, there was no way he could outrun him. 'Please, I won't say anything ...'
'Sorry. I just can't take that risk,' he said and as Clive opened his mouth to cry out the man pulled the trigger ....

Everyone in town knew about Alice's drinking, but because they knew Joe's father Bill had walked out on her, they looked the other way. Bill had just got in one of his trucks one day, driven out of town on a long distance run and never come back. No explanation, no letter, no goodbye. No one knows where he went. All they saw was the damage he left behind - a lonely, heartbroken woman and a boy who had to grow up too quickly.

All Alice and Joe had was the big old house overlooking the shingle beach. Alice had been a showgirl - after a few cocktails she would put an old 78 on the record player in her room and disappear into the comfort of her memories. Joe would find her sometimes, still wearing her sequins and feathers, half asleep in front of the dressing table mirror, red lipstick smudged where she had lain her head on her arm. Alice knew nothing about business - Bill's haulage company went under, and they lost everything. From being one of the town's most respected families, Alice had to endure the pitying stares of her neighbours. If it wasn't for some money left to Alice by her godmother, the boy would have been on the streets. Alice clung to Joe like driftwood. 'You're the man of the house now,' she told him, face blotched with tears and booze.

There was talk, of course. A woman like Alice, alone in a small town. Everyone wondered how she got by, and there were plenty of gentlemen called by in the afternoons doing odd jobs for her. Still the house seemed to fall into decay. The paintwork peeled, leaves went unswept, snow settled deeply around it every winter. But Joe adored his mother, and he was a tough kid who wouldn't hear a word said about her. All the children knew not to tease him about his parents. When Frankie - a skinny ginger kid with sly eyes - had once dropped a remark about how he had seen Alice asleep on the lawn in her nightdress within earshot of Violet, she had laid into him, tiny fists pummelling him until he cried like a girl. Randy stood by, just watching. When Joe heard what Violet had done, he gave her his most treasured possession ....