Bats Out of Hell Read Online Free PDF

Terrace.
    "What on earth's the matter with you, Walter?" Gladys Williams inquired, looking up from the oven as her husband stamped into the kitchen.
    "Nothin'," he answered, and began struggling to remove his Wellington boots.
    "Well, you look as white as a ghost, just like you'd seen one."
    "Bats," he puffed as a Wellington finally yielded to his efforts and came free of his foot.
    "Who's bats?"
    "I don't know who they bloomin' well belong to."
    "It's you who's bats," his plump, red-faced wife was only half concentrating as she pulled a casserole from the oven.
    "Bats," Walter repeated irritably, endeavouring to pull off the second boot. "With wings. Flyin' mice."
    "Where?"
    "Wooden Stables."
    "Oh, that's all right then. It's when they get in the 'ouse I'll start worryin."
    At that moment a slim, fair-haired, freckled-face girl of about ten came in from the hall. She had changed into jodhpurs on her return from school, something which she always did lately. It was small consolation for being deprived of a daily horse ride, but in a few weeks, when the daylight extended into the evenings, she would be able to walk up to the Wooden Stables and enjoy all the riding she wanted.
    "Penny and Stango all right, Dad?" she asked. Her greatest regret was that her father insisted on feeding them on his way back from the building site at Hednesford. She had tried more than once, unsuccessfully, to persuade him to come home first and pick her up. Not only would she be able to see her horses during the week then, but it would stop him from complaining that he was forced to look after them, Walter Williams would not have been happy, though, if he couldn't have a moan about something.
    "All right," he grunted. "More or less, anyway."
    "What d'you mean, 'more or less'?" Shirley Williams demanded, alarm on her face.
    "Nothin' to worry about" Her father was already wishing that he had said "they're O.K.." At least he would have been able to enjoy his evening meal in peace.
    "What is it?" Shirley's voice was strained, and her eyes seemed to bore into him just like the time three years ago when old Biggy, the family's dog, had died and Walter had lied and told his daughter that the animal had gone over to stay with Uncle Bill for a while. Walter knew that he would never be able to lie to her again.
    "Just bats," he grumbled. "Nothin' to get excited about."
    "And what have bats got to do with Penny and Stango?" she faced him, hands on hips, determined to pursue the matter to the end.
    "I dunno. I guess the 'orses don't like sleepin' in a stable with bats in the rafters."
    "You mean," Shirley demanded, stepping towards him with an angry glint in her eyes, "you mean that Penny and Stango are out in the field and you left them there?"
    "They won't come to no 'arm." Walter looked to his wife for support, but she was too busy serving up the stew to concern herself with such mundane topics as bats and horses. "Couldn't do nothin' about it," he mumbled. "They wouldn't come in, so I chucked the 'ay inside for 'em. More than likely they're in there now, guzzu'n' themselves . . ."
    "Oh, Dad!" Shirley was close to tears. "If they're frightened of the bats, they won't go in."
    "It's a warm night. Almost like summer. They won't 'urt."
    "I don't like them outside all night," Shirley was beginning to shout. "Those yobbos from the Oakdene Estate, the Pearson boys on their motorbikes, might go up there and throw stones at them or chase them."
    "The Pearsons won't go up there. They'll be stuck down at the Cottage Spring, where they are most nights."
    "But anything could happen to them, Dad!" The young girl was on the verge of hysteria.
    "The bats've gone," Walter said. "They flew out when I shone the torch on 'em. Penny and Stango'll go back."
    "But we don't know. We can't be sure."
    "Come and get yer dinners," Gladys Williams called out, having decided it was time that she intervened. "And don't fret yerself, Shirley. Yer dad'll run yer up afterwards just to make