Hidden - a dark romance (Marchwood Vampire Series #1)

by Shalini Boland

  She’d already had a quick peek down here the first week they arrived, but hadn’t looked around properly. She pressed the light switch. Nothing happened. She turned it off and on again a couple of times … nothing. The bulb must have gone.

  As she looked upstairs in the cupboards for a replacement, she came across a large black and red torch instead. And so, holding the powerful torch out in front of her, she slowly descended the curved stone steps.

  The darkness made her blink and stare. She could hardly see her fingers in front of her face. The torch didn’t have a wide enough beam to give an accurate impression of how big the space was. It smelt musty and reeked of stale alcohol. Her foot crunched over something and she shone the torch down onto the stone floor. She saw glass - a smashed glass bottle.

  There were bottle fragments all over the floor, with puddles of sticky liquid - alcohol. The smell was pungent. The bottles must have smashed recently - the party! She realised someone, or a few someones, must have come down here and had a laugh smashing up bottles. Great. Now she’d have to clear up more mess.

  She’d get another light bulb so she could see properly. Maddy shone her torch up at the ceiling and saw the remains of a strip light. It was smashed to pieces, with bits of broken bottle sticking out of it. God, what a bunch of idiots! It would take more than a new light bulb to get that working again. She noticed a couple of long shallow windows at the top of the far wall, which, from the outside, would be at ground level. They were so filthy they might as well not have been there for all the light they let in.

  As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw that the cellar was a cavernous space with piles of crates and boxes stacked against each wall. Maddy walked towards the far wall, crunching over more glass and picking her way past boxes, piles of papers and other stuff. A narrow corridor lay to the right of the room and she walked down it, brushing away cobwebs which floated into her face. It was like being on a cheesy ghost train at the fair. There were some smaller rooms off the corridor and she peered in. All empty. She turned around and walked back to the main space.

  Picking a crate at random, she tried to open it, but found it nailed shut. She went for a cardboard box instead and rested the torch on a crate so it shone directly at the box. It was covered in an inch-thick layer of dust. Just looking at it made her sneeze. She pulled back the cardboard flaps to reveal scrunched up newspaper. Maddy smoothed out a corner and saw a date – 1923. She opened it out to reveal a wine glass. Not very interesting. She put it back and opened another box – just an old patterned china tea set. She was curious about the large crates though.

  She went upstairs to look for something to prise them open with. There was nothing in the kitchen or utility room, so she braved the horizontal rain and pelted round to the side of the house where she’d noticed a couple of outbuildings. Both were locked so she went back to the house, drenched, freezing and frustrated. Pulling her sopping wet jumper over her head, she charged up the stairs and bumped into Esther on her way.

  ‘Oh!’ Esther gave a small scream. ‘You frightened the life out of me.’

  ‘Sorry. I’m just going to get changed.’

  ‘Hmmm, you need to be careful on those stairs. We could’ve come a cropper with you charging around like that.’

  Maddy took a deep breath to stop the sarcastic reply that hovered on her lips. Instead, she asked Esther if she knew where the keys to the outbuildings were. It turned out there was a set hanging in the utility room by the back door.

  Maddy pulled on a dry pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and raced back downstairs, barely missing Esther on the stairs again.

  ‘For goodness sake, I need danger money working here!’ she called after Madison.

  ‘Sorry!’ Maddy yelled back up the stairs.

  She skidded into the utility room, shrugged on her parka and slipped her feet into her old trainers. A large bunch of keys hung on a hook by the door. Maddy grabbed it, hunched her shoulders and headed back outside into the deluge. After a couple of goes she got lucky and managed to open the door to one of the stone outbuildings.

  All manner of garden implements hung in orderly rows on the wall and a metal shelving system housed other useful objects - tins, pots, bottles and boxes. She picked up a large garden spade and thought it might just do the job, but then she spotted a long black crowbar hanging on the wall.

  ‘Bingo.’

  Maddy and the crowbar made short work of the first crate and she lifted off the splintered lid. Something large and square rested on the top, wrapped in a thick piece of cloth. Maddy lifted out the heavyish object and unfolded it from its grey shroud. It was a painting, a portrait of a young girl from long ago in an ornate gilt frame. She had a beautiful face with long dark hair pulled back in a loose chignon. She stared confidently out of the frame and Madison stared back at her for a few moments. She set the painting down carefully on the floor, leaning it against the crate.

  Delving further into the box, she pulled out several other portraits of different people. Maddy looked at their faces in the torchlight and shivered. If this was her ancestor’s house, maybe these were paintings of her family. She could ask Mr Vasey-Smith if he knew anything about them. For now, she’d take the paintings upstairs where there was decent lighting to study them properly. Perhaps their names were written on them. Wow. She wondered what she’d find in the other boxes and crates.

  But right now she was hungry and actually quite tired. She returned the paintings to the crate except for the one of the girl which she brought back upstairs. She looked down at herself and realised she was filthy, covered in dust and grime. God, she’d have to change clothes again for the millionth time. Esther was a moody old cow but at least she did look after Maddy and Ben, what with doing all their washing and stuff. Maddy knew that when she put her dirty clothes in the basket at the top of the stairs, the next day they would be miraculously clean, dry and freshly folded, ready for her to wear again.

  Morris dropped Ben back home at four fifteen and Maddy was dying to know how he’d got on. She took his wet coat and bag and ushered him into the kitchen where they sat in front of the large cream range.

  ‘So? How was it? Did you make any friends?’

  ‘I’m hungry,’ he replied.

  Maddy pushed the fruit bowl towards him.

  ‘Not fruit, Mads, I need something proper,’ he pushed the fruit bowl back at her.

  Maddy stood up and opened the larder. She took the lid off a dark green tin with flowers and fruit on it. Inside, sat a round fruit cake. It smelt delicious. She tipped it onto a wooden chopping board and hacked off a large slice.

  ‘Excellent,’ he said and started scoffing it.

  Maddy cut herself a smaller slice and nibbled a corner.

  ‘Come on, Ben. How did it go?’

  ‘Mmm, fine,’ he said, through a mouthful of cake. ‘Lessons were pretty boring, but I met a few people. Seems okay.’

  Maddy knew she wouldn’t get any more information from him for now, so she didn’t quiz him any further.

  ‘Gonna watch some TV, Mads. Okay?’

  He took his cake, dropping crumbs all over the floor and made his way to the games room and the huge forty two inch plasma screen which Maddy had purchased for him the previous weekend, along with some games consoles, a couple of laptops and various other gadgets suddenly vital to life.

  Maddy spent the next few days down in the cellar. It took ages to clear up the broken bottles from the party and then, when she’d cleared away every last shard, she started going through the crates. It was dirty work. Everything was covered in a century of dust and cobwebs, and every so often, fat black spiders would scuttle out to startle her.

  The contents of the crates were fascinating. She came across more paintings, this time of landscapes which looked very much like the local scenery. She found bundles of postcards from all kinds of foreign places, sepia photographs and hundreds of letters. She would take some upstairs and read them later. The handwriting
was beautiful, all flowing swirls and flourishes, not at all like her messy, spidery scrawl.

  Then, she came to the clothes - amazing vintage suits, silk dresses, bustle gowns, voluminous white undergarments, rigid corsets, bonnets, lace scarves and heavy wool coats. There were dainty dancing slippers, high lace-up boots and beaded capes. They had all been stored carefully and were in surprisingly good condition. She lifted out a gold silk brocade dress, nipped in at the waist and billowing out to the ground in waves. She held it up to her body, feeling slightly ridiculous.

  Maddy had never been a ‘pretty dresses’ kind of girl, but could feel herself becoming seduced by the luxury and sumptuousness of these other-worldly garments. She imagined her predecessors drifting around the house in their finery, like something out of a Jane Austin novel.

  They’d studied the story of Mansfield House at school last term and Madison had wanted to slap the heroine in it. Fanny, her name was. God, what a drip. Maddy would never have put up with half of what she had.

  Her English teacher tried to explain how different it was in society for women and girls back then, but Maddy just thought they were pathetic to just want nothing more for themselves than marriage to a rich husband. But then again, she knew quite a few girls who were like that now and this was the twenty first century. She knew she was lucky she’d never have to make the decision between independence and financial security - She now had both.

  Ben would be home from school soon, so Maddy clumsily folded up the dress and stuffed it back into its crate. She picked up the torch, preparing to go back upstairs, but from across the room something beckoned.

  A gleam of light, a glint of something metallic. She shone the torch at the far wall, but could see nothing unusual, so she walked closer, waving the torch around. There it was again. An elusive golden glint in the wall. She couldn’t get close enough to look properly. Stacks of boxes blocked her way.

  A few were light enough to shift but she had to get her full weight behind the larger ones. They scraped stubbornly across the stone floor. It was no good, she was trying to do this too quickly and there wasn’t enough space. She’d have to be more systematic but there was no time now. Ben would be home any minute wondering where she was. Maddy shone the beam at the glinting spot, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. Then, satisfied, she made her way back upstairs.

  When Ben arrived home, she told him about the hidden treasures in the cellar.

  ‘What, some old clothes?’ He made himself a jam sandwich.

  ‘Not just old clothes. Anyway, they’re amazing and they probably belonged to our ancestors. And there was this shining thing in the wall. I don’t know what it was though. I’m going to check it out tomorrow.’

  ‘Cool,’ he said with a mouth full of sandwich. ‘Some of my mates are going to see the new X-Men movie in town after school tomorrow. Can I go? Dan said his mum’ll give me a lift home afterwards.’

  ‘No, I’d like you to help me sort all the stuff out in the cellar.’

  ‘What? Oh ha, ha, very funny. Can I go then? To the cinema?’

  ‘Yeah, Ben. Course you can.’

  *

  Friday morning, and Maddy ignored the bright autumn sunshine. Instead, she descended into the dingy cellar. Now she had the whole day in front of her, she could approach things more methodically. She shone her torch across the boxes until the light caught the glint of gold on the wall. Or rather, it looked like it was in the wall. No, she couldn’t quite work it out.

  She dragged and heaved the crates over to a large clear space on the right hand side of the cellar. She hadn’t opened them all yet, but there was plenty of time for that. It took her over an hour to move them and now her hands were black with dirt, her arms ached and sweat trickled down her back.

  Esther would wonder what on earth she was doing to get her clothes in such a state every day. Well, let her wonder. Finally the far end was almost clear and Maddy was able to get up close to the wall.

  A chunk of mortar had broken away from the brickwork, revealing a gap. Through it, Maddy saw the glinting thing. She slid in her fingertips and felt cold, smooth metal. There was something there, behind the wall.

  Chapter Twelve

  1881

  *

  Beneath the surface, the roar of the river instantly muted and Alexandre opened his eyes to bubbles and foam. He swam downwards and the water cleared. The rock he had clung to was indeed a stone column of some kind and he saw another one, huge and cone shaped. Then, Alexandre’s eyes widened.

  There below him was the cave, just as Havva had described.

  Could it really be the one from the ancient legend, or did this just conveniently fit the description? Set into pure white rock, four gigantic fairy chimneys rose up – two above the cave and two on the river bed, like unwavering guardians turned to stone.

  One of them must have been destroyed, for Havva Sahin had spoken of five fairy chimneys in the legend. The mouth of the cave sat low and wide. Alexandre remembered the words of the story and could not help but imagine the thousands of villagers waiting with their families, ready to walk unknowing to their doom.

  His lungs began to ache so he shot up to the surface and swam back to the river bank, ending up much further downstream. Sliding out of the water, he sat, trying to regain his breath. Isik joined him and Alexandre told him of his discovery.

  ‘I am going back down,’ he gasped. ‘I am going to go into the cave.’

  ‘Wait, my friend. You need to rest and you need to eat. Lunch was a long time ago and your energy must be low.’

  Alexandre did feel a bit shaky. He sat down and acknowledged Isik was probably right.

  Dry, fed and rested, Alexandre returned to the cold river and dived down as before.

  The cave was not deep and he found a narrow crevice at the back. Alexandre squeezed through and wriggled out into another water-filled space. He swam upwards, praying he would hit air soon. His lungs were empty. He finally sprayed up out of the cold water and sucked in a long gasp of air.

  He found himself in damp swirling darkness, a faint wash of light pulsing somewhere above him. Alexandre suddenly felt very uneasy. He could not see beneath the surface of the murky water. His mind turned to slimy river creatures and mythological monsters. He had to get out of the water before panic overtook him. He swam until he reached the edge and pulled himself onto a rocky shelf.

  A mixture of fear and great excitement took over. He had actually done it. He had quite possibly found the entrance to the underground city. Others had failed, but he, Alexandre Chevalier, had doggedly followed a hunch which had proved him right. He allowed himself a moment of self-congratulatory pleasure before standing up and looking around.

  His eyes adjusted to the gloom, relieved to see at least some light, even if it was only a faint glow. The air smelt musty and old, moist and earthy, but the whisper of a breeze stroked his wet face bringing an overtone of freshness. Eerily quiet, all he could hear was the echoing drip, drip, drip of water on stone and a faint rippling in the underground lake.

  Alexandre stood up and balanced along the ledge until he reached a wider area of rock floor. The walls looked solid with no other entranceway that he could see. He walked along a little further, clambering over rubble. He stepped onto a smooth rock, shaped like a slice taken from an enormous cylinder, but broken in half. Climbing up further, he came to a large gap in the wall. An entranceway? His heart sped up. It looked like it could be a tunnel.

  He stepped over the broken rock and peered into unending darkness. Close up, were fragments of what appeared to have been a carved pillar. He entered the black space and crept forward a little way. It was no good. The darkness would swallow him up. He needed more light. Alexandre backed out and climbed down over the large broken wheel-like stone. It had a hole in the middle, like a massive millstone.

  Could this really be the underground city from the legend, sealed off from the inside and hidden from the outside world? He starte
d to believe it and yearned to explore but knew that right now was not the time. Reluctantly, he returned to the river bank, surfaced next to the stone column and swam back to dry land where he saw Isik waiting, scanning the river for him.

  ‘It is there. It is as the old woman said,’ Alexandre panted, sitting on the river’s edge and sipping the water Isik handed him.

  ‘But this is incredible. Tell me what you saw.’

  Alexandre got his breath back and went on to describe the underground lake in the cavern. He told him about the partially blocked tunnel that he believed could very well lead to other parts of the lost city.

  ‘The carved pillar proves it is not just a natural cave. And those tunnels are most probably man made.’

  ‘We are only about an hour from camp,’ Isik said. ‘Shall we go now before it is dark? You must be eager to tell your family of your great discovery.’

  ‘No. I am going back in, but I need to take supplies with me.’

  ‘You cannot go there alone,’ Isik said. ‘Forgive me, but that would be foolish, with or without demons.’

  ‘You said yourself we are not far from camp. I could travel back there through the caves. I would probably make it there within only a few hours.’

  ‘No,’ Isik said. ‘I must insist you do not go. It will be dark soon and we should return. You will have your chance to explore tomorrow. Just be patient for one more day ... Please.’

  ‘You are right of course. It is just that I am burning with curiosity to see what lies there. But I will wait. Shall we make camp here tonight? I suddenly feel very tired. I think it must be all that swimming.’

  Isik laughed. ‘Tired? A moment ago, you were ready to go exploring underground caves. Very well, we will leave first thing in the morning and in the meantime you can dream of your caves.’

  He continued chuckling to himself whilst Alexandre stared into the river where the water eddied at the top of the stone pillars.

  *

  Isik awoke, as always, at dawn. He opened his eyes and sat up. The sun rose behind him and the sky slowly bleached white before deepening into a familiar blue. He instantly knew something was wrong. Alexandre was nowhere to be seen.