With one hand slipped under each of my father's armpits we slowly hoist him up, he is as light as a feather where the cancer has stripped the meat from his bones and his skin is almost see-through and somewhat paper like from the lack of sunlight, we gently move him as if he was made of glass. I watch with bated breath as he tries to stand, his legs wobbling and his knees knocking, where he's had muscle loss.

As he is stood in front of me I had forgotten how tall he is, even in this frail state where his body fails him, there is intense strength that radiates from him, that comes from within, I now understand why she calls him little Viking, he will always fight even when the odds are against him.

The wonder in his eyes sparkle at his triumph, a wide grin spreads across his face like a mischievous child "Oscar for once I can look you in the eyes instead of being on my back, looking up your nose" laughter bursts out of me which halts for that moment any feelings of sadness that usually consumes me, it so good to just laugh.

I dress him and then wash him, amazed as he takes baby steps moving from room to room, something he's not done in months.

Once I help him to the bottom of the stairs I start to doubt Liten Vampyr idea of taking him out but I don't want to be the one to crush his hopes.

As if he's read my mind or my worrisome face that has given me away against my will, he grabs hold of my hand and his usual way that washes away the black cloud that hangs over my head " Don't worry Oscar I promise to not drink too much, I can't make the same promise for Liten Vampyr".

"Can she even drink?".

He laughs "I've seen her drink a bar dry but not alcohol, the customers".

I gasped now terrified that we are taking her into our local pub, where our friends and neighbours will be "will she do that tonight".

"No... I'm sure she won't but if there is anyone you don't like in there, be sure to send them her way" he chuckles.

The moment is broken by her voice calling us from outside the front door, there she is stood but she's not alone. Beside her is four surly looking youths with their hoods up, their black eyes peering at us. They looked like trouble with a capital T and as if they had just turned up from mugging pensioners or loitering around outside off-license with a bottle of cider between them.

"Who are your friends" I squeak trying to hide any fear from my voice but failing terribly.

She steps in closer to my father, completely ignoring me and kisses him on the nose "do you remember when we would talk about things we'd like to do or try and you said bobsledding with dogs".

He nods but looks utterly confused, then she takes his hand and walks him out the front door, down the path into the street. There in the middle of the road is a cart attached to four BMX bikes "The next best thing" she sniggers "A ride with the hounds of Hell, Bell let me borrow her feral boys".

"Bell who owns the Devils Den - is friends with..." my voice trails off as I realise they are staring intently at me as if they don't need much of a reason to rip my throat out and leaving me bleeding out on the doorstep, I need to choose my next words very carefully "these young men".

Low animalistic growl ripples out from the feral boys, their shoulders hunching over as if they are ready to pounce.

"Down boys" Liten Vampyr shouts out as she helps my Dad into the cart, the feral boys look me up and down, before they shuffle away to ascend on their bikes.

She slides in front of me "play nice Oscar, while they'd not dare touch hair on my head they'd think nothing of ripping you apart, so go get your arse in the cart and maybe from now on keep all your thoughts to yourself".

My mouth opens and shuts like a fish out of water but no words come out, all I manage is a huff as I slink my way over to the death mobile (cart) that is going to be dragging us through Whitstable by Satan's spawn on BMX's. I clamber in beside Dad only to realise there is no room for her "why don't you go with Dad".

Dad and Liten Vampyr share a knowing look "No need she will meet us in town" Dad whispers.

Before I had the chance to protest, she had screamed at them to go. The cart jolts like a rollercoaster rocking into action, creaking and cracking filling me with dread, then all in sync the boys fly down the road dragging us behind them. I cling on to the sides of the cart my knuckles turning white with my tense grip, I gasp for breath as the wind whips at our faces with the crazy speed we are going at. We are going so fast; I swear we are flying. The streets pass us by like blurs of colours streaking through the night as people jump out of our way, then screaming obscenities at us. Every corner we take, we swing and fly side by side as the cart screeches, I turn to Dad but I am surprised by his wide grin that is spread across his tiered but happy face, he's genuinely enjoying himself and completely unfazed by the pedestrians we are nearly killing.

We fly past the harbour then through the town, then down the one-way system, then into the main high street.

I thank our lucky stars there aren't too many cars on the road otherwise I'll be joining Dad in death.

Whipping of the wind eases as we slow down as we reach our destination of bell's pub. My stomach is turning over threatening to erupt exorcist like vomit all over myself. Everything is spinning as I step out of the cart as I try to focus on the curb to stop myself falling.

There standing outside is Liten Vampyr and Bell waiting for us.

How the hell did she get here so quickly?

The feral boys help my Dad out of the cart, my dad thanking them like an overzealous teenager still buzzing from our ride with death curtesy of Whitstable feral boy. They walk him over to Bell who embraces Dad, as her dogs watch on.

As long as I can remember Bell has owned the Devils Den and Dad has drunk in there. She is like the patriarch of Whitstable, everyone knows her and she knows them.

Devils Den is frequented by locals while avoided by tourists, I would imagine because Bell has no patience for outsiders and has been known in the past to be less than welcoming.

Very little will happen in this sleepy seaside town without her knowing about it. There have always been rumours about her as she is so guarded about her private life and small towns like to talk and gossip but if you are one of her regulars she will treat you with the warmth and respect as if you are family. Many afternoons she's dropped off dinners or bags of shopping for my Dad and me since he's become ill and for that kindness, I'm truly grateful.

"Lucas you old devil, I've missed you" she purrs "come in I have a surprise for you".