Dark Places
Dark Places
Whispers drift as time sweeps away those innocent voices
by
H A Dawson
©2013 H A Dawson
(Honor Amelia Dawson)
Stoats and Swan Publishing
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Smashwords Edition
Revised November 2016
( Many thanks to my readers group for their help with this update)
This is a work of fiction. Any characters, names, organisations, places, events or situations are either imaginary or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
This book contains material protected under International and U.K Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorised reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author and publisher.
Find out more about the author and her books by visiting
http://www.honadawson.com
You Can Get H A Dawson's Starter Library FOR FREE
Sign up for my no-spam newsletter and receive an introductory novel, a novella,
a short story and much more exclusive content, entirely for free.
Full details located at the end of this book
Novels by H A Dawson
Luke Adams Series
Book 1: Girl On A Train
Book 2: One Big Lie
Book 3: Silent Screams
Book 4: Naive Retribution
Novellas
Back Road
Guilt Trap
Separates
Dark Places
Underlined titles show active web links
Friedrich Nietzsche
“At times, our strengths propel us so far forward we can no longer endure our weaknesses and perish from them.”
Dedication
Friends past and present whose forbearance is eternally etched into my wordcraft.
Story Premise
In early 20th century Britain, women were treated as possessions; the ramifications were dramatic.
1912 - Catherine felt worthless and loathed, deprived of help and understanding from everyone, except Amelia her sister. The accusations relating to the deaths of her children, left her with no desire to endure further humiliation, suffering and tragedy. The social pressures were overwhelming, bringing her mental stability into doubt, she was an undesirable!
2012 - The thought of renovating the old house excited Michaela. Others held different notions, having experienced its history of tragic accidents and unexplained events.
For her own sanity, Michaela delves ever deeper into solving the truth about Primrose Cottage. Only proof of Catherine's innocence can quell her anguish and self destruction.
Table of Contents
Dark Places
Other Titles from this author
Story Premise
Chapter 1
Chapter 2 Two Months Later
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7 1904
Chapter 8 Present Day
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14 1905
Chapter 15 Present Day
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18 Spring 1908
Chapter 19 Present Day
Chapter 20 Summer 1908
Chapter 21 Present Day
Chapter 22 1909
Chapter 23 Present Day
Chapter 24
Chapter 25 1912
Chapter 26 Present Day
Chapter 27
Chapter 28 1912
Chapter 29 Present Day
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34 Six Months Later
H A Dawson- Catalogue
H A Dawson - Catalogue
H A Dawson
Chapter 1
Nothing in Michaela’s life had prepared her for this moment. It happened so unexpectedly that she struggled to grip the reality of the situation, and glanced, bewildered, at her mother, hoping for reaffirmation or guidance. Despite the intensity of her stare, Judith did not flinch and continued to focus on the ground, not reacting, not joyous.
Turning away, confusion buzzed through Michaela’s veins. She had just inherited a house in the country, given to her by an uncle she knew nothing about. How could it be? It was surreal, and her thoughts danced around her mind, not settling, not allowing for cohesion. It was more than she could hope for; it was beyond all comprehension.
It was a wondrous gift and an amazing opportunity. Her only emotion should be gratitude. She smiled as it dawned.
According to the documents given to her by her solicitor, Primrose Cottage was in Cornwall in an idyllic setting. It was a detached house, located away from the village, and it came with land, a hectare to be exact. There was an orchard, a pond, and a well, as well as plenty of room to grow as many vegetables or flowers as she pleased. It was a dream that had come true.
‘Why didn’t I ever meet Jim Cooper?’ Michaela asked.
‘He was a recluse. It’s how he wanted it.’
‘Did I ever know him?’
‘No.’
Concerned by the abruptness of her responses and her mother’s lack of visible support and enthusiasm, she regarded her with uncertainty. When she offered nothing more, she continued her need for questions and asked why he had given the house to her, rather than bestowing it upon someone closer to him, his children maybe.
Maintaining her stiff pose, Judith unlocked the car door and they climbed inside. ‘That house has been in the family for generations. You’re family.’
‘Did he ever live there?’
‘You heard the solicitor – it’s empty … derelict.’
But why? It sounds beautiful.’
Less of the interrogation, Michaela. You already know what you need to know.’
Disregarding her mother was easy, and within moments, her thoughts turned dreamy. She wondered if it would be such a major upheaval to move there. It would mean leaving her job in the city, and Sam, her husband, would have to relocate his business, but given he owned an online company it wouldn’t be difficult. He was bound to agree to the idea; it was an opportunity too good to miss.
‘I can’t wait to see it,’ she said.
‘Why on earth would you want to visit?’
‘I’ve decided we’re going to move there.’
Judith glared. ‘Have you got rocks in your head?’
Michaela averted her gaze.
‘Didn’t you hear a word the solicitor said? It’s not in a fit state. It should be knocked down.’
‘We can renovate it. Sam’s often talked-’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous! You’ll sell it, and that’s that!’
‘That is not going to happen! It’s my house and my decision.’
‘For once in your life, you’ll do as I say.’
Her face tensed; she folded her arms.
‘Then I’ll talk to Sam. He’ll talk some sense into you.’
Michaela made fists with her hands. ‘Sam won’t agree with you. I’ll make sure.’
Judith eased the car to a standstill at the traffic lights. In the next lane, music blared. A skinny man in his twenties, wearing a floppy woollen hat, drummed on the door beneath the window. He provided a brief distraction to her thoughts.
‘There are times,’ Judith said, drawing he
r back, ‘when you’re a silly girl. You need to stop your ridiculous fantasies and do the right thing. That house is bad news. It has a history. There are stories-’
‘Stop it!’
Judith glared.
‘If Sam and I want to move into Primrose Cottage then we will! It’s our decision. It has nothing to do with you.’
She heaved a sigh. The lights turned green. She eased into the right-hand lane and waited for a gap in the traffic.
‘Problem with you,’ Michaela continued, ‘is you’re jealous. I have something you haven’t and you don’t like it.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘It’s true. It’s always the same with you. You just can’t bear to see me happy.’
‘You won’t be happy in that house, I can assure you of that.’ She swung the car to the right and headed along the ring road. ‘Jim said there was an unsettling feel about the place, and he should know.’
‘Nothing you say will make any difference. My mind’s made up.’
‘How can you be so stubborn? You haven’t even seen it.’
She stiffened. From what the solicitor had said, the house was everything she dreamed of; she didn’t need to know anymore.
‘If you’re not going to listen to me heed Jim’s warning, or have you forgotten about that?’
Her indomitable expression dissolved; she lowered her gaze and stared into her lap. A note had accompanied the inheritance. It was a suggestion to sell, warning of doom, and it held a certain amount of insistence. It was something she was trying to forget.
‘He was nuts, obviously,’ she said softly.
Dismayed, Judith shook her head and said nothing more. Michaela should have been grateful for the silence, but it was worse than the bickering, and her optimism slipped further away, driven by an unwilling reflection of her mother’s critical remarks. Suddenly, her earlier excitement seemed like a childish yearning and she clung to her plans with the tiniest of grip, reiterating her needs and desires with a mind-numbing recurrence. She told herself she was an adult and capable of making a sensible decision, but still, her mother had a stranglehold. It was only when they arrived at her block of flats and Judith restarted the argument, that Michaela’s determination returned.
‘I won’t let you do this,’ Judith said.
She straightened her back. ‘What are you so afraid of?’
‘I’m not afraid of anything.’ She rested her hand on her thigh. ‘I don’t want to see you messing up your life. That house is too much to take on.’
‘It’ll be fun.’
‘Please don’t be so stubborn. Won’t you take into account what I have to say? There are things I could tell you-’
‘Don’t start. I’m not interested.’
‘I’m trying to look out for you.’
Michaela opened the car door. ‘I’ve made my mind up. If you can’t accept it, that’s too bad.’
‘Michaela . . .’
Slamming the door. She scurries away.
Chapter 2
Two Months Later
Gleeful and exuberant, Michaela danced around the cardboard boxes, her steps were light and springy, her eyes scanning the damp walls and sunken ceiling. By her side, the plasterwork bowed, separating from the red brick and ready to crash onto the debris that had lain undisturbed for years on the cold stone floor. The ceiling was in a similar state; holes exposed the timber where the damp had penetrated and destroyed the plasterwork. Yet, the monumental task caused neither fear nor regret. Michaela saw the positives, a home of her own and a life in the country, and she bounced with delight through the house.
The lower floor consisted of four small rooms all surrounding a central staircase and lobby. Three of the rooms had fireplaces, although there was an electric fire installed in two of the rooms with the alcove bricked over. The fourth room was the kitchen fitted with shabby cupboards, a grimy sink and an old oven and grill. Everything needed ripping out and replacing. It was a huge task, but it did not dampen Michaela’s positive mood and she looked forward to choosing the décor and selecting a quality kitchen.
She climbed the stairs and peered into the first of the four rooms. The bathroom was in a reasonable condition and the best of the rooms, and except for the filth that had accumulated on the tiled floor, it was presentable. The bath, sink and toilet were white and had no obvious scratches or chips, and the walls and ceiling were solid and even. Smiling at the possibilities and dreaming her house to be beautiful, she visualised a variety of colours, accessories, and effective lighting, and wandered across the landing in a pensive state.
Debris lingered in cracks, tiny particles clung to the walls, and dust from the carpets rose in clouds. Coughing, she held her hand to her mouth and breathed through her fingers. It was everywhere, drying her mouth, tickling her nostrils, and clinging to her skin and attire.
Determined not to let the poor state dampen her mood, she continued to examine the rooms, absorbing every corner and every wall, and keeping her focus on the potential. She had already chosen the room to be her and Sam’s bedroom but remained undecided as to which was to be the guest room and nursery. It was an exciting time, and passing through the room to the window, she considered colour schemes, curtains and blinds, and other decorative features.
Through the misted glass, the view was spectacular and a vision of tranquillity, even in the grey water-laden skies. Directly ahead, within the valley, were meadow flowers, heathers and grasses, all swaying in the gentle breeze. The hillsides on either side had an assortment of shrubbery and trees, with gorse bushes and willow trees appearing the most common. It was a beautiful setting with birds and small wildlife aplenty and people wandering beside the meandering river.
Her gaze returned to her land. Below, Sam scanned a pile of junk that littered the weed-laden ground. Deciding to have a little fun, she scampered downstairs, crept outside, and pulled down his elasticated bottoms exposing his firm buttocks. Grinning, he pulled up his pants and spun to face her. She edged backward and hovered a short distance away, giggling in a pure and childlike manner. Not to be outdone, he hurried towards her and tried to release the button on her slacks. She tussled and screamed. Her pants fell to the ground. She collapsed, limp with exhausted laughter.
Wicked man!’ Michaela said.
Sam smirked. He had the most adorable face, with vivid blue eyes, dimples, and delicate pink lips, all framed by his caramel-coloured hair that formed spikes on his cheeks. Michaela was enraptured, and as he made lanky strides into the house, she held the beautiful vision in her mind. She loved this man; her life was perfect.
Sam was the owner of a small Internet business, selling a range of cardboard boxes, from the small types for CDs and DVDs to the large for removal and storage. His business had been growing over the last few years, and it was turning a profit but it had been sporadic. Nevertheless, it had its benefits and allowed him to work from home, choosing his hours to suit his pastimes. It also allowed them to take on this huge project.
Smitten by what would be her dream home, her eyes drifted to the cracked render, weather-beaten and decaying, and to the broken house nameplate high above the door. It said ‘Primrose Cottage,’ but it was barely decipherable having faded through years of neglect.
Sam appeared from the house. ‘Any regrets?’
Absolutely not! What chance would we have to buy a house in such a fantastic location?’
‘You won’t be saying that in a few weeks when you’re sick of the work.’
‘It looks worse than it is. The structure is sound. It’s more cosmetic than anything.’
Sam frowned. ‘I think it needs a little bit more than a dab of paint.’
‘Not much more. Once we’ve completed the roof and windows, we’ll almost be there. We’ll have it sorted in a few months.’
‘I think it is going to take longer than that. A couple of years I’d say.’
Panic flickered across Michaela’s face. ‘It has to be done before then.’
>
‘Why? We’re not in any rush.’
Michaela turned her back on Sam and gazed at the rubbish heap. Two years was such a long time. She couldn’t live in squalor for that long. She would lose her sanity.
‘I can’t imagine what kind of person would dump this lot in their own backyard,’ Sam said.
Michaela spun around. ‘I can’t say I’m looking forward to clearing it. There could be anything in there.’
‘Dead bodies even!’
She chuckled. There were rags, underwear, shoes, empty food and drinks cans, and an assortment of broken electrical equipment, from televisions to kitchen blenders. What else there was, underneath the metre high pile, was anyone’s guess.
‘You’re going to need to build up a few muscles to clear this lot,’ he said.
Oh, and like you’re so strong. You’re all skin and bone.’
‘Better that than the flab!’
Michaela gawked then rapped Sam on his stomach. He was feigning an injury when a blackbird darted by, squawking and scurrying into a shrub. Instantaneously another followed, and then a third. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small black and white shape. She turned her head, but before she could focus, it was gone, disappearing into the smallest of the brick buildings.
She was just about to check the inside of the building when Sam caught her attention.