The Clockwork House

by Wendy Saunders

  He found her standing there, the sunlight catching the wedding band on her finger as she held a rainbow of different colored roses in her hand. Bailey leapt up wagging her tail and headed toward him. He reached down and stroked her thick fur, as Ava turned and smiled.

  ‘I was wondering where you were,’ she said softly.

  ‘Looking for you,’ he stopped beside her, rubbing his hand over her hugely swollen belly and dropping a kiss on her lips.

  ‘We were just visiting,’ she laid her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her.

  His eyes dropped down to the headstone in front of her, where she’d just laid two of the roses.

  ‘Edison Lynch, devoted husband 28.11.1867 - 24.12.1898 & Eleanor Lynch, beloved wife 13.08.1874 - 31.10.1919’

  ‘It was kind of you to have her buried here, even kinder to have Edison buried with her,’ Kelley murmured.

  It had taken a great deal of time, money and persuasion to get permission to exhume Edison’s body and have him reinterred at the house with his wife, but she was glad she had. Out of everyone in this sorry tale he was the one who didn’t deserve to spend eternity buried next to his evil father.

  Ava stared at the stone, ‘beloved wife…’ she hadn’t added the obligatory ‘& mother.’ Ava felt that really was going a step too far, considering she’d pretty much either murdered or attempted to murder all of her children.

  ‘She was a terrible person,’ Ava frowned, she still hadn’t quite reconciled how she felt about Eleanor. ‘She truly loved Edison, she didn’t start out to be the person she became, that was Ephraim’s doing with his cruelty and abuse. I can’t excuse what she did, but she was treated horrendously by that sick bastard. He may be buried on consecrated ground, but wherever Ephraim Lynch is, I really hope he’s burning in hell.’

  ‘Amen,’ Kelley muttered.

  Ava glanced to the left where seven angels stood with heads bowed and wings raised. Each one bore just one name.

  ‘Nancy, Olive, Ruby, Alice, Anne, Catherine and Sarah.’

  She handed Kelley seven roses one by one and watched as he propped them up against the foot of each statue, before turning to a large memorial stone. On it, were twenty-six names. It had taken them a long time, but they’d tracked down each of the names of the missing children and had buried them together.

  Ava leaned over awkwardly and retrieved a wreath which had been sat at her feet and set it in front of the stone.

  Next to them was one lone headstone.

  ‘Jonathan Sedgewick 1887 -1919 loving protector.’

  Ava laid a single white rose for him and turned to the final one. It read simply,

  ‘Luella and Peter, beloved mother & son.’

  Ava stroked their headstone fondly. Having shared Luella’s memories so intensely she found she’d retained a profound and deep connection to the two of them. She kissed her fingers lightly and brushed them against the stone, before laying the final two roses.

  Kelley took her hand and together they walked back through the archway. Ava stopped and locked the metal gate firmly.

  She’d made the decision not to open the small graveyard to the public because it seemed wrong somehow to put them on display. She didn’t want people trampling all over their bones every day, so instead she’d compromised and left the fencing around it only four feet high so visitors could look in, as long as they were quiet and respectful.

  Wrapping his arm around her waist Kelley whistled for Bailey who happily trotted along behind them, with the old-fashioned leather baseball in her mouth. It was the one thing she refused to give up and no matter how many times they hid it, weirdly enough she always seemed to find it.

  They walked around the house, breathing in the fresh salty air and smiling as they passed by visitors and locals. They reached the front of the house and stood for a moment admiring the beautiful warm sandstone building.

  Kelley nudged Ava and nodded toward a familiar face standing across the gravel parking lot, staring up at the building.

  ‘Go on,’ Kelley told her, ‘I’ll wait here.’

  Ava smiled at her husband and crossed the distance to the small blonde-haired woman.

  ‘Hello Julia,’ she smiled.

  ‘Hello Ava,’ Julia replied, as she gazed up at the house. ‘I never thought I’d come back here.’

  ‘Would you like to come inside?’ Ava asked. ‘I would be happy to show you around.’

  ‘ No,’ she shook her head. ‘It’s taken me a long time to get to this point, I don’t think I’m ready to go inside.’

  ‘How are you doing?’

  Julia looked at Ava and smiled slowly.

  ‘I don’t hear them screaming anymore,’ she whispered. ‘I can finally dream.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ Ava replied softly.

  ‘I’ll never be completely okay,’ Julia told her honestly, ‘but thanks to you, I’m as okay as I can be.’

  Ava reached out and took her hand squeezing gently. ‘I’m here for you whenever you need me.’

  Julia nodded, turning at the honk of a car horn.

  ‘I gotta go,’ she smiled, ‘my mom’s taking me out to the mainland today, we’re going shopping.’

  ‘You have a great time,’ Ava told her sincerely.

  Julia turned and headed toward the car, stopping impulsively and turning to look at Ava.

  ‘You’re going to make a great mom Ava,’ she smiled as she climbed into the car.

  Ava waved them off.

  Walking back to Kelley she took his hand as they headed toward the entrance.

  ‘Well, I’d say it’s been a big success,’ he stared up at the building. ‘I can’t say I was too thrilled when you convinced me to move into the house with you, but at least there are no more ghosts.’

  ‘Yeah, no more ghosts,’ Ava murmured as she gazed up and saw Luella looking down from one of the upstairs windows, with a smile on her face and Peter grinning and waving by her side…. ‘more or less…’ Ava’s mouth curved.

  They climbed up the steps and headed inside the house, past the shiny golden plaque mounted beside the door, which read simply.

  ‘The Clockwork House.’

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  Also by Wendy Saunders

  The Guardians Series 1

  Book 1 Mercy

  The Town of Mercy is hiding a centuries old secret...

  Olivia West had no intention of ever returning to her hometown of Mercy, Massachusetts, but when an ancient presence begins to stir beneath the sleepy little town, she feels it echoing in her soul… calling to her witches’ blood, a call she is helpless to obey.

  Theodore Beckett has a dark past and secrets of his own, born in 17th Century Salem he finds himself dragged through time to the present day and left with nothing but a cryptic instruction to find and help Olivia.

  When the town is rocked by a series of supernatural murders Olivia unwittingly finds herself the prime suspect, but the murders are only the beginning.

  Thrown into a world of murder and magic and trying to fight their growing feelings for each other, Olivia and Theo must stop a murderer and uncover her family’s oldest and darkest secret, but as the killer draws closer and a dark presence begins to awaken… time is running out.

  REVIEWS

  "What an amazing read this book is. From the moment I started reading I was hooked and could not put the book down and ordinarily that would be fine but I’ve been a walking zombie at work this week due to lack of sleep but IT WAS WORTH IT." (Amazon Reviewer)

  "Couldn’t put it down. It draws you in and keeps up the pace to the explosive finale. It also makes you care about the characters who are believable and human. This is a book you will want to read and recommend to your friends." (Amazon Reviewer)

  "Fantastic read!! Starts with a cracker and keeps it rolling perfectly all the way through, you know you need to put down the book to sleep but you have to know what happens next!!" (Amazon Reviewer)

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  Mercy Sample chapter

  Welcome to Mercy, Massachusetts

  Pop. 13,623

  The blurred letters stared mockingly back at Olivia through the intermittent swipe of her wiper blades. The persistent rain misted her windshield as her whiskey colored eyes narrowed, locking on the offending sign. Her lips unconsciously tightened as her fingers tapped out a restless staccato on the wheel.

  ‘What the hell are you doing Olivia?’

  She shook her head as if to rid herself of the relentless question, which continuously pounded through her skull with all the subtlety of a pneumatic drill.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Her gaze flicked to the mirror, demanding, as if her frustrated reflection could somehow give her an answer. Sucking in a breath she shifted the gear into reverse, intent on putting the town into her rear-view mirror and never looking back.

  But she didn’t.

  Instead she paused, dropping the gear once again into neutral. That small nagging doubt at the back of her mind nipped at her like a vicious and annoying insect. The sudden and renewed tug tightened around her ribcage, dark and earthy, a primitive drumbeat matching her heartbeat.

  Something was calling to her, she could feel it even now, pulsing through her blood.

  With a slow sigh her head dropped down to rest against the back of her knuckles as she gripped the wheel tighter. Closing her tired eyes, she listened to the idling of the engine and the rhythmic tapping of the rain, allowing it to soothe her turbulent thoughts.

  Fighting with herself was so exhausting; maybe being back in Mercy wouldn’t be as bad as she expected. She let loose a sudden, unintentional snort of amusement even as the thought occurred to her, loosening the uncomfortable knot in her chest.

  Despite the twenty years she’d been absent from her hometown there were some things she was sure would never change and Mercy’s small-town mentality was one of them. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the second she set foot on Mercy soil the town gossips would start spreading the word that ‘the West girl’ had returned.

  Before long, her past would be dredged up and picked over, like vultures over carrion. Then all anyone would be talking about was how her father had brutally murdered her mother and grandmother.

  Olivia let her head fall back against the seat as her hands dropped from the wheel to rest in her lap.

  They didn’t know the truth about what happened that night… none of them did.

  She’d spent years trying not to think about that night. She’d painstakingly crammed every single blood-soaked memory into the deepest recesses of her mind, where they would never again see the light of day.

  And it had worked… for a while.

  The closer she got to town the more the memories had tried to force their way back to the surface. With every mile marker her heart began to pound harder, her palms slippery with sweat as she white-knuckled the wheel.

  She should never have come. She sure as hell didn’t need the inheritance. A rickety old house on the edge of a lake in the middle of nowhere. The stupid thing was probably falling to pieces anyway. She should just put the car in reverse and leave.

  Her hand hovered over the gears, trembling for a second before she finally fisted her palm and straightened her spine.

  She couldn’t leave and she damn well knew it. It was the same reason she’d made the journey in the first place, the same reason she’d ignored the nagging, perverse little voice inside her that hadn’t shut up the whole drive from Providence. She’d felt the raw tug of power; whatever had lured her back to Mercy, it was old and very powerful, of that much she was sure.

  Olivia glanced up at the sky; the rain had slowed, and the sky was darkening. She couldn’t continue to sit at the side of the road and argue with herself all night. She was here now; she may as well deal with it, whether she wanted to or not.

  A sudden banging on her window had her sucking in a sharp, startled breath. Her gaze once again flicked to the rear-view mirror and she caught a glimpse of flashing lights. Taking a deep breath to still her jumping heart she lowered the window, blinking as the cold raindrops bathed her face.

  ‘Ma’am,’ the officer nodded in greeting, ‘is everything alright?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Olivia muttered sourly, ‘everything’s fine.’

  Her gaze dipped to the badge pinned to his jacket and she noted the name, ‘Deputy Walker.’

  ‘I’m afraid you can’t stop here,’ he offered with an easy smile, as the rain dripped from the wide brim of his hat.

  ‘I know,’ she murmured.

  ‘Ma’am?’ his brow furrowed questioningly as he studied her. ‘Do you require any assistance?’

  ‘No,’ Olivia’s mouth curved slowly, ‘just a backbone.’

  He grinned suddenly, making him seem even younger.

  ‘You be sure and drive safe,’ he nodded, ‘road ahead can get slippery.’

  ‘You have no idea,’ she muttered under her breath as she watched him return to his vehicle.

  Given no other choice she pulled out onto the road and headed into town. About a mile down the road she started hitting the outskirts and it was like she’d never left. The place had barely changed in the last two decades. Walker’s Auto was still there, as was the Sidecar Diner.

  She slowed as she made the turn onto Main St, passing by the Bailey’s convenience store on one side of the street and the Irish pub, The Salted Bone, on the other.

  The old ice cream parlor was still there, bringing an unconscious smile to her lips. Miz Willow’s Scoop’n’Shake. She wondered idly if the sweet old hippy still ran the place. Olivia felt a small, unexpected pang of nostalgia and was forced to admit that maybe her memories of Mercy were not all bad. She still remembered running down to Miz Willow’s on a hot day for a sundae with her best friends, Jake and Louisa. She shook her head lightly as the small smile continued to play on her lips.

  No, the memories weren’t all bad.

  Olivia passed by the library, followed by the museum, once one of her most favorite of places in Mercy. Making a mental note to visit as soon as she had the chance, she headed east onto Walnut Drive and then north onto Maple. Her smile slowly faded as she drove further into the heart of town. There was one place in particular she needed to visit, before she headed up to the lake house, and the longer she put it off the harder it would be.

  With a heavy heart she pulled up and parked at the side of the street. Her heartbeat picked up and a low-pitched buzz began humming in her ears. Climbing out of the car she pulled her jacket around her tightly, against the wind, noting that the rain had picked up once again.

  The moment her foot hit the sidewalk she felt a strange throb of power. It was weird; she didn’t remember feeling anything like it as a child, but she could feel it now. It wasn’t exactly the same presence which had been calling her back home. No, this was the town itself.

  It was as if Mercy was somehow alive. The low thrum of power which ran beneath the ground pulsed and throbbed with magic, almost like a central nervous system with thousands of tiny synapses connecting everything.

  She lifted her face to the dying light and, allowing the cold rain to bathe her skin, she breathed in deeply. The air crackled with power.

  What the hell was going on? Was it just that she’d been unable to detect it as a child? Had the town always had this undercurrent of power, or was it something more recent and more sinister?

  Shaking the worrying thought from her mind she took a tentative step forward. The ground almost seemed to ripple beneath her feet, but she resolutely ignored it and forced herself to focus on the empty plot of land in front of her.

  Sandwiched between a pair of cute little, two storey houses was an empty lot where her childhood home had once stood.

  She’d ridden her shiny red Schwinn along that very sidewalk, rolled wildly across the lawn with her sweet little golden cocker spaniel, Truman. She’d sat out on the
back stoop on clear nights and watched, fascinated, as her father pointed out the constellations.

  She closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp painful breath at the sudden memory of her father. Shaking her head, she took another step forward, her chest aching as the memories washed over her in waves.

  The house was long gone. It had burned to the ground the night her mother had died, and it seemed no one had bothered to rebuild it. But... she noted curiously, someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to clear the site and plant a beautiful garden. Even this late in the year it still burst with colors, so vivid it felt like she’d stepped inside an oil painting.

  The obstinate buzzing in her ears had now become a low murmur, incoherent but insistent. It tugged at her, pulling her forward, urging her closer, almost as if the ground itself was trying to speak to her. Before she even realized what she was doing she lifted her foot and stepped onto the grass.

  Everything disappeared.

  The air was filled with the acrid stench of burning. The daylight was gone, along with the stinging rain. Instead the dark air was heavy with thick, black, oily smoke. It scalded her mouth and throat as she coughed violently, her lungs burning as they filled. The house burned hotter than any fire she’d ever known. The wall of heat in front of her was so intense it felt like her skin was peeling. The roar of the flames filled her ears, as if the inferno was somehow singing to her, as the windows melted and dripped down the front of the building like great dirty tears.

  The roof collapsed inward with a shockingly loud splintering, throwing burning dust and ash into the choking air. The wall of heat was too much, her skin felt too tight and her eyes stung, causing her to stumble back a step.

  The second her foot hit the sidewalk the flames disappeared. Once again she felt the fat, clean drops of rain dripping down the neck of her jacket, settling cold and uncomfortable, someplace between her shoulder blades.