Milly was grumbling again. “Where are my heart-shaped sunglasses?” she shouted. “How am I supposed to go camping without my heart-shaped sunglasses?”

Maud fished her torch out of the mess on the floor. Her half of the bedroom was a tangle of dirty clothes, monster masks and insect jars, while her sister’s half was spotless, with everything tidied into her chest of drawers. But somehow Maud always seemed to find her things more easily. She’d already packed her exercise book, pens, waterproof, magnifying glass and Spotter’s Guide to Worms and Bugs, while Milly was still flapping around looking for her sunglasses.

“This is going to be the worst holiday in the history of the world,” said Milly. “I can’t believe we’ve got to go camping with your weirdo friends.”

“Would you rather go to the Classic Car Show?” asked Maud.

“No, I’d rather go to Corfu,” said Milly. “Like Mum and Dad promised. I can’t believe I won’t be able to sunbathe. I won’t even get to build a pretty sandcastle.”

Maud was glad about that. Last time they’d gone to the beach, Milly had spent all day working on a perfect replica of Dream Castle from her favourite Pink Pony Princess Party book. Meanwhile Maud had recreated the castle from Dracula, with some help from Quentin in his vampire-rat costume.

Honk! Honk!

Maud stuck her head out of the window and saw her dad’s car approaching. He was towing a large, battered lump of metal. Maud squinted at it. Was that a caravan? It was peppered with dents and scratches. The side panels were probably meant to be white, but they’d picked up so much grime they were now a dingy grey. Tattered beige curtains hung behind cracked and dusty windows.

Mr Montague turned into the driveway and the caravan followed, tottering on its rickety wheels.

“You’ll never believe it,” he called up, getting out of the car. “I found this in the scrapyard. The things people throw away!”

Maud could easily believe he found it in the scrapyard. What she couldn’t believe was that he hadn’t left it there.

Milly joined Maud at the window.

“What do you think?” asked Mr Montague.

“I think you should let me stay in a hotel as a reward for doing well in my exams,” said Milly. “Then you and Mum will have more space in the caravan.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” said Mr Montague. “But there are no hotels near Oddington Marshes. Tell you what though, you can stay in the tent. Your mum’s almost managed to get that funny smell out of it.”

“Come on, girls!” Mrs Montague called from downstairs. “Time to go!”

“Well, this is already a disaster,” Milly grumbled to Maud, as she shut the window. “I can’t find my sunglasses and I’m going to have to sleep in that smelly, leaky old tent.”

Maud put her backpack on and went downstairs. On the way out, she popped into the garage and scooped Quentin into the front pocket of her waterproof.

“Sorry this isn’t as comfortable as my blazer,” she said. “But I’ve stuffed the bottom with cotton wool. Hope it helps.”

Quentin burrowed into the cotton wool, looked up and gave a ratty smile. At least someone likes their holiday accommodation, thought Maud.

She went outside and waited in the car.

Her parents wheeled their cases down the driveway. Instead of their usual matching raincoats, they were both wearing brand new leather jackets. With their thick, round glasses, they looked like they belonged to a gang of biker librarians.

“What are you wearing?” asked Maud.

“Oh, these?” her dad said. “I just picked them up in the sales. Pretty cool, huh?” He flipped up the jacket’s collar and winked.

Maud didn’t think they were very cool at all. Even the word ‘cool’ didn’t sound cool when her dad said it.

“You’re not copying Wilf’s parents, are you?” asked Maud.

“Of course not,” said Mr Montague. “Chill out! You’re messing up my vibe.”

Maud buried her face in her hands.

Milly dragged her case into the car and slumped on the back seat. “Come on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

Her dad checked his mirrors, clicked his fingers and said, “Let’s roll.” He was about to turn his key in the ignition when something that looked like a small black rubber ball bounced off the back window.

“What was that, dear?” asked Mrs Montague.

Maud looked out. Paprika was lying on the ground with his cape crumpled over his head.

“Just a minute,” she said. “I’ll deal with this.”

She got out quickly, dragged Paprika into the neighbour’s driveway and propped him against the fence while he got his breath back.

“What on earth are you doing?” she hissed. “I told you not to come here in bat form. What if my parents had seen you change?”

“Sorry,” said Paprika. “I’m still trying to get the hang of transforming and landing at the same time. But I came to warn you. Don’t go camping with Wilf and his family. You’ll be in terrible danger!”

Mr Montague stuck his head out of the window. “Come on, dude!” he called. “We need to burn some rubber.”

“It’s Paprika from my class,” said Maud. “I’m just telling him about our … uh … homework.” She lowered her voice and whispered to Paprika. “Is this because of the full moon?”

“Sort of,” he said. “But there’s something else. What do you know about Oddington Marshes?”

“Nothing much,’ said Maud. “Wilf says it’s a nice campsite, but the facilities are a little basic.” Paprika shuddered.

“What’s wrong with it?” asked Maud.

“The Beast of Oddington lives there,” said Paprika in a low voice. “You must have heard of it. It’s the most terrifying creature for miles around. Even monsters are scared of it.”

Maud tried to imagine what sort of beast could frighten vampires, ghosts and zombies.

“I’m sorry,” said Maud. “It’s too late to cancel it now.”

“Please,” said Paprika, reaching out to Maud with his trembling hand. “Don’t go!”

“I’ve got to,” Maud said. She turned her back on Paprika and walked back to the car. She could hardly tell her parents there was a monster without revealing the rest of the truth about Rotwood.

“Alright, let’s do this,” said Mr Montague, as Maud slammed her door shut. He stuck in a CD called Wild at Heart – Ultimate Driving Hits.

“Excuse me,” said Milly. “But I’ve brought my Pink Pony Princess Party CD. I think we’d all rather listen to that.”

But it was no use. Both Maud’s parents were already singing along to ‘Born to be Wild’ in fake American accents.

At last they drove off.

In the rear-view mirror, Maud could see Paprika waving. He looked terribly sad. Almost as if he were waving goodbye for the very last time.