THE MA-WOL-N-F

Now, this story is a spooky affair, and it all has to do with a dinner party that Caecilius and his lovely wife Vesuvius were throwing for some friends of the family, an ugly couple called Atrium and Hortus.

The dinner had been very successful. Everyone had enjoyed a lovely meal of olives and some cheese made from the hind leg of a goat, and now it was time to sit back and undo your toga and let your belly flop where it would. Slavius collected up the empty dishes and took them into the kitchen to be licked to a sparkling shine by Barkus Wooferinicum, for the Romans valued health and hygiene above all other things. Everyone was in a pleasant mood.

‘After-dinner fart?’ said Caecilius, offering around a tray of Grade ‘A’ quality farts he’d been saving for just such an occasion.

‘Don’t mind if I do,’ said Atrium, scooping one up.

‘Me neither,’ said Hortus.

‘Can I have a fart too, Mother?’ asked little Filius.

‘Now, now, Filius,’ said Vesuvius. ‘You’re only X.’

‘Oh, go on, give the boy a fart,’ said Caecilius, stroking his son’s hair fondly. ‘It’s not often he gets to stay up late with the adults, what harm’s a fart going to do him?’

‘Oh, Caecilius, you are a big softie,’ laughed Vesuvius. ‘OK, Filius, you can have I fart, but only I.’

‘Ah, there’s nothing like a good Pompeiian fart,’ pronounced Atrium as he popped a particularly juicy specimen into his mouth. ‘A finer blow-off you could not find in Rome itself !’

‘That reminds me,’ said Vesuvius. ‘How was your recent trip to Rome?’

‘It was simply perfect,’ replied Atrium. ‘We had a marvellous time.’

‘Yes, it is an extraordinary city,’ volunteered Hortus. ‘Did you know, they built it in a day?’

‘I’d love to see Rome,’ said Vesuvius, turning to her husband. ‘We must visit sometime, mustn’t we, dear?’

‘We must indeed,’ agreed Caecilius, stroking Vesuvius’s hair fondly.

Wow, thought Filius in fascination. Grown-ups’ conversations are so boring.

‘Still, it’s good to be back home,’ said Atrium. ‘And of course, Hortus missed her gardening while we were away, didn’t you, my love?’

But at this Hortus let out a dirty gasp.

‘Oh!’ she cried. ‘That reminds me, I saw something awfully . . . strange the other night. But – no, no, it is too impossible, I must have imagined it.’

‘What was it?’ said Caecilius, stroking Hortus’s hair fondly. ‘Do tell us, for after dinner is just the time for stories, no matter how impossible or dull.’

‘Well,’ began Hortus. ‘It did happen the other night that I was walking through my scented herb gardens – ’

‘I didn’t know you had scented herb gardens,’ said Vesuvius, ‘although I suspected as much a few pages ago.’

‘I am surprised, Vesuvius,’ replied Hortus quite haughtily, ‘for my scented herb gardens are quite famous throughout Pompeii.’

‘They can’t be that famous,’ said Vesuvius. ‘I’ve known you for ages and I’ve never heard of them.’

‘Well, I am a little put out by that, to be honest,’ said Hortus. ‘As I say, my scented herb gardens are really quite well known around here.’

‘Yes,’ Atrium chipped in, ‘Hortus is very proud of her scented herb gardens.’

‘I haven’t heard of them either,’ put in Filius at this point.

‘Shh, my boy,’ said Vesuvius in embarrassment. ‘It’s already bad enough that I haven’t heard of Hortus’s so-called “scented herb gardens” without you getting involved.’

‘Hey,’ said Hortus, ‘what do you mean by that? What do you mean my “so-called” scented herb gardens?’

‘I didn’t mean anything by it,’ said Vesuvius. ‘I just think it’s a bit suspicious that I haven’t heard of these incredibly famous scented herb gardens.’

‘Are you calling my wife a liar?’ shouted Atrium. ‘Are you? Because if you are, then why don’t you just come out and say it? Why don’t you just come out and say it, Vesuvius, you nasty piece of work? Instead of sitting there with that stupid smug grin on your face having a go at Hortus like that!’

‘I wasn’t “having a go” at anyone!’ shouted Vesuvius. ‘I just hadn’t heard about these STUPID scented herb groves –’

‘GARDENS,’ shouted Hortus. ‘Scented. Herb. GARDENS.’

‘WHATEVER,’ yelled Vesuvius. ‘WHAT. EVER.’

‘Calm down, calm down,’ said Caecilius now, stroking everyone’s hair fondly. ‘I’m sure that no one meant anyone any harm. Come, Slavius!’ he cried, clicking his belly twice in rapid succession. ‘Bring us more farts – no, none for you, Filius, you hopeful lad! – bring us more farts and we will forget our differences.’

After all the adults had each scooped up another fart or two, Hortus began to tell her tale again.

‘As some of you may know,’ she began, ‘I have some scented herb gardens, which are actually quite well regarded in these parts. But never mind, I’m sure you can’t be expected to pay heed to everything that goes on around here, Vesuvius. Anyway, it was exactly a month ago, I remember that, because it was the night of the full moon. So there I was, walking through my –’

‘Scented herb gardens,’ muttered Vesuvius.

‘Now, now, ’Suvie,’ said Caecilius before Vesuvius could erupt once more. ‘No need to be sarcastic. Do go on, Hortus.’

‘Very well,’ said Hortus. ‘So there I was, wandering through my scented herb gardens, enjoying the scents. The wonderful perfume of the basil, the bright fresh aroma of the mint, the spicy oregano, the jade, the rosemary – all those lovely scents in the scented herb gardens.’

‘Get on with it already,’ said Vesuvius, rolling her eyes.

‘Now,’ continued Hortus, ‘I had just come to my favourite part of the gardens – the coriander. And it was while I was bending down to sniff at that lovely herb that I heard it. A rustling in the undergrowth. And then I saw it. A huge, hairy PAW was peeking out from amongst the coriander bushes. And then the moon came out from behind a cloud – I hadn’t realised it but I must have been in the scented herb gardens for much longer than I thought, for by now it was night time – and then I saw him. Or rather – it.’

‘What? What was it?’ gasped Filius, who was so terrified that he had accidentally done a Mirror-Man in his pants.

‘It was like nothing I have ever seen before,’ said Hortus, a strange, far-away look on her ugly face. ‘Or rather – it was like two things I have seen before, but never together. A man, it seemed to me! And yet – a wolf as well!’

‘A ma-wol-n-f!’ exclaimed Vesuvius.

‘Yes,’ agreed Hortus, gripping her friend’s hand in hers, their argument now forgotten. ‘It was a ma-wol-n-f! A terrible blending of two creatures, emerging slowly from the coriander. It smelt dreadful, Vesuvius! Dreadful! It smelt like a mixture of a man and a wolf! And a bit of coriander!’

‘How tall was the beast?’ demanded Caecilius in Russian – but no one understood.

‘How tall was the beast?’ he demanded again, not in Russian.

‘It was about IX feet tall,’ sobbed Hortus. ‘And it had big jaws. And around its neck it wore a pendant.’

‘A pendant with a portrait of Julius Caesar on, by any chance?’ said Caecilius.

‘Yes, h-how did you know?’ cried Hortus.

But just then, night time fell and the house was plunged into darkness. And then, suddenly, the full moon came out from behind a cloud. And now the people at the table gasped, for Caecilius was gone! And in his place stood a cross between a wolf and a man – a ma-wol-n-f – standing there slobbering all over the table and scrabbling at the tiled floor with his dreadful claws.

‘I can’t believe it,’ said Vesuvius. ‘The beast is Caecilius.’

‘Are you going to eat us?’ shouted Atrium in outrage.

But the ma-wol-n-f only shook its head and cried hairy tears on to the table.

‘It just wants to be loved,’ said Vesuvius.

So they all stood there, fondly stroking the creature’s shaggy brown hair. And later on, it turned back into Caecilius and they all had a great big laugh about it, and Filius managed to sneak down another fart when no one was looking and it made him drunk and he fell out the window; but luckily he landed on a family of Mirror-Men, which cushioned his fall – so everything worked out fine.

THE END