Secrets Beneath The Sea

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Secrets Beneath The Sea - book excerpt

Prologue

They tore their gaze away from each other, looking out towards the pounding surf. A tiny figure stood there, frozen in time as the waves crashed a few yards away from her planted feet. She looked so fragile, so inconsequential against the raging sea. Yet they both knew she had an inner strength, borne out of the darkness that lurked hidden from view. Well, hidden for most. The woman rose to her feet above him, walking away towards the shore, her straw hat and summer dress buffeted by the warm winds from the Atlantic. He watched as she shrank further away until the woman was standing next to the girl, her white bikini and bonnet clearly visible across the expanse of sand. The man squinted, raising a tanned hand to shield his eyes from the overhead sun. He watched, fixated as both the woman and the girl both turned to their left, staring along the coast, towards the south. On any other day, the man would have followed, snapping several shots of the precious moment, captured forever. Not this time though. He grew uneasy as the sky to the south gradually darkened, thick clouds roiling up on the horizon, heading in their direction. A flash of lightning struck the sea, the two figures unmoved by its immense power. They looked entranced, seemingly hypnotised by an unseen force that beckoned to them. The wind picked up, blowing across his face as he shielded his eyes. Looking back to the surf, the two figures were accompanied by two more. Tall and willowy, with pale skin and dark clothing. He flinched, an urge to charge headlong down the beach towards them.

“She will never give you what you crave,” a voice carried towards him. “Their kind can bear no fruit.”

He looked around himself, seeing holidaymakers carrying on with their fun, the words lost to the stiffening breeze. His eyes returned to the sea as the beach became shrouded in darkness. The woman and girl no longer stood there. In their place, a shuffling group of figures, yellow eyes piercing the oncoming gloom. Bearing down on Jake’s position.

Jake shot up in bed, the sheets damp with sweat, his body peppered with perspiration. Tears ran down his cheeks, his breathing elevated and ragged. He turned to his left, seeing the unmade side of the bed, two pillows plumped up like they’d been for the last six years. He looked out of the bedroom window, bright morning sun radiating in gently as the Atlantic breeze ruffled the curtains. Climbing out of bed stiffly, Jake kneaded his lower back as footsteps along the landing made him turn. The door flew open, an auburn-haired girl leaning against the jamb. “Hey, Dad,” she said confidently.

“Hey, poppet,” Jake replied. “What time is it?”

She smiled, her face transforming instantly. For a split-second, Katherine was stood in front of him. The moment passed, a dark shadow almost forming between them as Jake’s loss tried to resurface. “Breakfast time,” Alicia proclaimed jovially. The dark clouds blew past, Jake returning the smile to his only living daughter as she turned and headed downstairs.

“Put the kettle on, please. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Okay, Dad,” Alicia chirped as she skipped along the landing before she headed downstairs.

Two minutes later, Jake entered the kitchen, pulling on a dark blue T-shirt that matched his blue shorts. “What’s on the menu?”

“Do you fancy a bacon sandwich?” his daughter replied as she poured boiling water into a teapot.

“Perfect. Just what the doctor ordered,” he said, ruffling her long hair as he padded towards the fridge.

“Dad,” Alicia began. “Were you having another bad dream?”

Jake sighed as the fridge door closed to. He placed milk, bacon and eggs on the counter next to the stove before dropping onto a wooden chair. “Yes, love. They come and go.”

“Was it about Mummy, or Alana?”

“Alana,” Jake muttered, the attractive face of the white witch appearing before him.

She walked over, wrapping her arms around him. He closed his eyes, inhaling her scent, the world melting away for a moment. “You’ll be okay, Dad.”

“Thanks. You’ve got an old head on young shoulders. You’re wise beyond your years, like your mother.”

“I wish she were still here, Dad. I have no memory of her at all? Even Alana, I hardly remember her either?”

Jake’s eyes became unfocused, images appearing before him. First was his wife, Katie. She’d been killed several years before, along with his daughter Megan. God. It’s almost fifteen years, he thought. A tall auburn-haired woman appeared next, dark eyes boring into his. He’d met Katherine years after his wife had died, in another world. A world that lay next to his own, but far removed in every other sense. Vampires and dark beings had lurked there, Jake stumbling across an age-old secret after his brother-in-law had sent him on a wild goose chase following a double murder. A goose chase that had started a chain of events that Jake had been helpless to resist against. He’d visited two other worlds. Two parallel dimensions that had almost cost him his life. Jake had barely survived, his mother, father and brother all perishing at the hands of the creatures that had inhabited the forsaken lands beyond his own. “I know, poppet,” he replied sombrely. “The painful thing is, is that I remember them all.” Alana appeared before him, her milky-white complexion flawless, dark hair cascading around her face.

“Who did you love the most?” Alicia asked inquisitively.

Jake chuckled, relieved by the change in mood that was threatening to engulf the kitchen. “You can’t ask a question like that. I loved them all, for different reasons,” he responded evenly. “I only thought I’d be with Katie. We were married and had Megan,” he said, his chest constricting. “But then Katherine came along, and I also loved her dearly. When she died, I thought that was it. But life tends to throw you curveballs. Alana and I probably came together through grief and suffering. I’d lost Kath, she’d lost her kin. And it kinda went from there.” He was suddenly cast back six years, remembering with aching clarity the look on the witch’s face when she knew that she was dying. He remembered the blood, the screams and tears that had echoed through the house as the woman’s pregnancy had come to an abrupt end, extinguishing the life of the mother and unborn son in a heartbeat.

“Well, I love you, Dad,” Alicia confirmed, lightening the mood. “I’ll give you all the love and cuddles that you’ll ever need.”

He opened his arms, welcoming his daughter’s embrace as tears stung his eyes. “Thanks, poppet. I don’t know what I’d do without you?”

“You too, Dad. You’re my world.”

Chapter 1

Cornwall – 2019

“I love coming up here, Dad,” Alicia said, her voice almost drowned out on the incessant wind. They both stood on a rocky headland, a few hundred yards away from a large hotel that loomed over the coastline.

“Me too,” he replied simply, the wind ruffling his dark locks that were now showing the first shoots of grey. His neatly trimmed beard was also shot through with silver, giving the former police officer a distinguished look that he now embraced. He knew he was getting older, his thirties behind him, with another milestone appearing on the horizon.

“I can feel her, Dad. She’s still here with us.”

“Well, that’s good. She loved this world. Your Mum felt at home here. Believe me, it’s a million miles away from the life she was used to.”

“When will you take me? I need to see all this for myself.”

Jake pondered the question, nodding at his daughter. “Well, it’s the school holidays. There’s nothing to stop us going there.”

“Tonight,” she replied excitedly. “Come on, Dad. Please?”

The man smiled, wrapping an arm around his daughter. “Okay. We’ve got no plans for the weekend. I’ll let Wilf and Jo know later.”

“What will you tell them?”

“I’ll think of something.” A buzzing sound inside his pocket made Jake fumble around in his cargo shorts before retrieving his smartphone. It was an unknown number. Swiping his thumb across the screen, Jake took the call. “Hello?”

“Is this Jake Stevenson?” a female voice answered.

“Speaking.”

“Hi. I found your name on the internet. My name is Emma Thorne. And I need your help. My daughter has been taken.”

* * *

Two hours later, Jake pulled off the Atlantic Highway, weaving his way along tight country lanes in his black Volvo SUV. The hedgerows almost clawed at his wing mirrors as he headed ever downwards towards the sea as brooding clouds caressed the land. He’d dropped his daughter off with Wilf and Jo, promising to be back soon as the pouty nine-year-old had stood, hands on hips on the front doorstep. After a few minutes, a sign appeared, telling Jake that he’d arrived in his destination, Towan Point. The road squeezed in further an avenue of trees covering the road, making Jake’s headlights come on, illuminating the dark tarmac ahead. After a few seconds, the car emerged into the main village, a handful of houses, shops and one pub presenting themselves to the private investigator. He crawled past the frontages, noting the name of the weather-beaten pub, The Narwhal. Strange name for a pub, he thought as the village passed him by, the SUV climbing a steep lane towards a headland. He slowed the Volvo some more as a large object caught his eye close to the sea. A large stone lighthouse sat brooding over the village, joined to the mainland by a raised rocky strip of land. Nice, he observed. If a little creepy. Jake depressed the accelerator, turning onto a grassy track a few-hundred yards further up the hill. The car trundled gently towards a stone cottage nestled amongst trees and tall hedges as the first drops of rain fell from the sky. He applied the handbrake, switching off the engine as his eyes took in the solitary building. It was the quintessential country cottage, double fronted with two windows upstairs and downstairs, a white door sandwiched between them. The thatched roof completed the cosy picture, tendrils of smoke drifting into the sky from the chimney. As he donned his summer jacket, Jake suddenly felt uneasy, looking around his position furtively for signs of life. Thinking that his imagination was running away with him he was about to walk over to the house when he stopped mid-step. A few hundred yards away, close to the turn-off, a lone figure stood against blackening skies. Jake squinted as he tried to focus on the person at the top of the driveway. Low clouds drifted across the land, obscuring the person who was dressed all in black, a hood blocking out his features. Jake knew it was a man, of probably advanced years as he stood rooted to the spot. A distant rumble of thunder rolled across the sky as the figure extended a hand towards him. Even from that distance, Jake could see that the man was pointing a bony finger towards him, a shudder coursing through his body as the stare down continued.

“Mr Stevenson,” a voice behind him called out.

Jake flinched, turning towards the cottage, a woman standing there, a check blanket draped over her shoulders. He turned back towards the road, the figure now gone as more thunder echoed across the land. “Err, hi,” he replied tentatively as he walked towards her. “Nice place.”

“Thank you,” the woman replied. “Did the coordinates work okay?”

“Perfectly. Strange that there’s no postcode for this place?” Jake replied as he extended his hand.

The woman took it readily, smiling up at him. “We’re a bit off the grid here in Towan Point. Not many people visit and very few ever leave, except for a few. Come inside before the heavens open.”

He followed her in through the front door, slipping his trainers off and depositing them on a mat next to an antique telephone table. She led the way, walking along a narrow hallway that opened up into a large kitchen orangery. “Now this is lovely,” he said, walking across flagstone tiles towards the large bi-fold doors that opened onto a secluded rear garden.

“Thank you,” she replied. “Would you like a drink?”

“I’d love a coffee.”

“How do you take it?”

“Milk with two, please,” Jake said, his eyes never leaving the garden. High hedges and trees gave the intimate space a magical quality, a little stream running through the garden. He noticed other things too. A trampoline, covered in dried leaves, along with a small bike that lay overturned on a gravel path next to a stout-looking shed.

A minute later, a familiar aroma drifted across the kitchen, the woman walking over towards him. “Here you go. Why don’t we sit down?”

“Thanks,” he nodded, walking over towards a kitchen table. Pulling out a chair, Jake seated himself, taking a sip of the heady brew. “Very nice,” he stated before proceedings could begin. “So, why don’t we start at the beginning?”

“Okay,” she replied quietly. “I hope you’ve got an open mind, Jake. Because you’re going to need it.”

Chapter 2

“We came to the village a few years ago, my ex-husband, Joe wanting a more peaceful existence. We’d lived in London for ten years and wanted to get out of the rat race.”

“Understandable. I’ve lived here for several years since moving down from Birmingham. I like the pace of life here.”

She smiled, Jake studying her face. She looked to be roughly his age, dark curly hair showing the first shoots of grey. An attractive face looked back at him, the man noting the dark smudges under her eyes, along with a sallow complexion at odds with the warm summer that they’d been subjected to. “You may have heard of him. Joseph Thorne.”

“The writer? Yes, I’ve heard of him. I’ve even read one of his books, The Winding Lane. It was very good.”

“Do you like horror?” she asked inquisitively.

An image flashed before his eyes. A vampire lying beneath him. A memory from a distant place that was woven into Jake’s subconscious. “Yeah. Kinda,” he replied evenly. “Always fascinated me.”

“Well, I’m more of an Emily Bronte fan. Don’t like things that go bump in the night. Anyway, where was I?”

“You moved here a few years ago.”

“Oh yes. Joe had recently hit the big time, with a movie deal in the offing. Because of the nature of his work, he decided that it would be better if we all moved to Cornwall to help him focus on his craft.” Her voice was soft, with little or no accent that Jake could detect. “Our daughter, Lauren, was about three at the time. And for a long period, things seemed perfect.”

“You mentioned that your daughter was taken. By whom?” Jake asked, the first tendrils of unease washing over him.

“When we came here, Joe was finishing another book. He began frequenting the village pub, hearing tales from some of the locals who would talk to him. Apparently, the lighthouse that you must have seen on the way here has been owned by the same family for generations. The Longford’s. I believe that one of them took Lauren.” She walked across the kitchen, picking up a framed photograph that she duly handed to Jake.

“Nice picture,” he said, looking at the girl who sat staring back at him, an uneven smile on her face. She’d inherited her mother’s looks, the same brown curly hair, the features very similar. It was a beautifully taken shot, capturing a carefree girl with a beaming smile. “How old is Lauren?”

“Nine. When she was taken, she’d just celebrated her eighth birthday. That was just over a year ago.” She paused, taking a sip of coffee. “I was saying about the lighthouse. It’s inextricably linked to everything and everyone in Towan Point. As are the Longford’s. They also own the pub, along with a few properties within the village. Joe became fascinated by the local legends surrounding the family and decided to write a story based on them. He tried to make contact with them but was rebuffed on every occasion. However, he became friendly with a barmaid at The Narwhal, who offered him plenty of inspiration for his book, and a lot more besides. I found out about the affair just over a year ago.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear about that. Sounds like you’ve been through the mill, Emma.”

“You could say that. One of the Longford’s henchmen turned up one day, pinning Joe to the front door, telling us that this Ciara had fallen pregnant. Joe tried to wriggle out of it, but as soon as I knew what I’d suspected, I ended it. They’re a nasty bunch too, the Longford’s. Joe managed to find out that they’re involved in some pretty shady activities.”

“Like what?”

“Smuggling. But he never found out exactly what they are smuggling. Could be anything. Drugs, weapons, people.”

“So, where is Joe now?” Jake continued, his heartbeat beginning to increase as he was pulled into the web.

“He was told to leave the village, which he refused initially. When a group of them turned up outside, it turned ugly. They set about us all, Joe receiving the worst punishment. Lauren and I were hurt trying to protect him. A few days later when we arrived home from school, he’d gone.”

“Have you heard from him since?”

“Yes. He’s living in Spain. A place called Yegen, in Andalucía. Do you know the area?”

“Not really. I’ve been to the Costa del Sol a few times, but never ventured too far from the beach. What’s he doing there?”

“Writing. And hiding.”

“So, what happened to your daughter?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I involved the police, but they came back with nothing. She was playing in the garden while I was painting in here. That’s what I do, I’m a full-time artist. Anyway, I went outside to call Lauren in for lunch, but she was gone. The police said that she’d probably ventured too close to the cliffs that are a few hundred yards away from here. They found one of her trainers,” Emma said before emotions boiled over. She wept silently, burying her head in her hands.

Jake looked around the kitchen, seeing a box of tissues next to the sink. He grabbed the box, handing it to Emma who accepted it with a sniffle. “Take your time, Emma,” he offered reassuringly.

“Thank you.” She blew her nose, wiping the tears from her face before composing herself. “The police and local coastguard looked for her for a few days before abandoning the search. And since then, life for the village has returned to normal. No one ever talks about it. It’s as if it never happened.”

“I’m so sorry, Emma. A few years ago, my mother was swept out to sea in Tintagel. We went through a similar thing. After a few days, they called off the search. Her body was never found,” he lied, knowing that if he explained how she’d been taken by a vampire and transported to a parallel world, the woman would eject him from the cottage very quickly.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “I’m really sorry, Jake.”

“It’s okay. It was a few years ago now. Anyway, we’re here to talk about Lauren,” he replied almost too brusquely. “Sorry, that sounded a bit blunt. I just want to get as much information as possible before we proceed.”

“That’s okay. I totally understand,” she replied, smiling at him. “The girl that Joe had the affair with also vanished, around the time that Lauren went missing. Same thing happened, the police quickly brushed it under the carpet. There were rumours that she’d fallen pregnant, being banished from the village because of the shame she’d brought on her family. No one’s seen her since.”

“Do you speak to your ex-husband? Did he come back when Lauren went missing?”

“Did he fuck!” she spat, Jake shocked by the outburst. “He said that it was a tragic accident and that I should accept it and move on with my life. But how can I? My husband cheated on me, which to be fair, I can handle. But to lose my daughter, with no explanation as to how or why she vanished – well, I cannot move on from that.”

“Okay. So, how do you want to play this?”

She smiled at him over the rim of her mug, placing it before her. “So, you’re willing to help me?”

“I am,” he stated. “Don’t hold out too much hope though. It’s been over a year and the police will not offer much information. And it looks like the locals may be a closed book too.”

“I understand. The fact that you’re willing to help is enough for me.” The garden lit up, the flash of lightning followed a few seconds later by a crackle of thunder. The kitchen seemed to darken, the downlighters doing their best to ward off the gloom outside.

Jake shuddered, feeling the temperature in the kitchen begin to drop a few degrees. “You wouldn’t think it was supposed to be summer,” he remarked, nodding towards the garden.

“I know,” she replied, walking over to the fireplace that sat on a far wall. She bent down, dropping a few logs onto the dying embers before walking back to the table. “You should come here in the winter. To say it can be bitter is an understatement.”

Jake drained his mug, watching as the logs begin to catch, a degree of warmth emanating from the hearth. “It’s the same in Tintagel. Lovely in the summer, desolate in the winter. But we love it.”

“Are you married?” the question was blunt, taking Jake by surprise.

“I used to be,” he replied. But not anymore. I live with my daughter, Alicia.”

“Any family?”

Jake needed to be guarded, not wanting to divulge too much information. Information that only a select few people knew about. “No, except an uncle who lives nearby.”

Sensing that the man didn’t want to open old wounds, Emma changed tack seamlessly. “If you’re going to help me, the best place to start is with Joe.”

“Your ex-husband?” Jake asked, confusion spreading across his face. “But he lives in Spain?”

“I know. But you’ll get no help from the locals. You may even find them unreceptive to you being here snooping around.” Jake thought back to the lone figure who’d pointed at him earlier in the day. “Joe has never spoken to me about what happened. We’ve barely discussed Lauren’s disappearance either. But he knows that I’ll never travel to Spain. I’m terrified of flying and the thought of driving there is too daunting. I’m not much of a traveller y’see. Driving out to the local supermarket, or to Truro to sell my paintings is as far as I ever go. And Joe knows this. But if you turned up on his doorstep, you may be able to shed some light on the secrets that he’s keeping from me.”

“Flying to Spain is not going to be cheap?” Jake stated evenly, a feeling of uncertainty creeping inside him.

“I know. But I live a very comfortable existence, money-wise. Joe sends me fifty percent of his royalties every three months. Plus, I make a modest living from my paintings and sculptures. So, money is not an issue. All you have to do is agree to it?”

“Okay,” Jake said, checking his watch. “I’ll be happy to help you. I will need to speak to Wilf and Jo, to make sure that Alicia is taken care of while I’m away.”

“Thank you, Jake. When can you start?”

“Monday. Is that okay?”

She nodded. “Perfect.”

“Okay. I will book my flights when I get home and keep you updated as much as possible. I should imagine that I’ll probably need to spend a few days in Spain, so I’ll buy an open return.”

“Whatever you think is best. Do you require an up-front payment?”

Jake smiled, shaking his head. “That’s not necessary. I’ll send an invoice at some point, but let’s focus on the task in hand.” Something came to him, a question that he’d not yet asked. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What do you think actually happened to your daughter?”

Her face dropped slightly, the woman taking a deep breath. “This is where I need you to have an open mind, Jake. I think she’s at the lighthouse. I think the Longford’s took her in revenge of what Joe did with Ciara. And I believe that she’s still alive. My daughter is alive, Jake. Please find her.”