Chapter 6
SIX
With all of Betty’s garments examined, Lark placed them back in the suitcase. She set it to one side before reaching over to retrieve the smaller one, wondering how it could possibly be filled with anything as exciting.
By comparison, this one was plain in appearance, with no luggage labels adorning it.
It had suffered a few nasty bumps and knocks along the way, too.
A bitter, acrid smell clung to the leather, and there was something about it that didn’t generate the same sense of excitement or anticipation as the first one.
On closer inspection, Lark spotted a couple of embossed initials that she hadn’t noticed when she’d first found it at Crayke’s Cottage.
She ran her fingers over them. Though they were somewhat scuffed, she managed to make out the letters: “AC”.
Could the “C” stand for Crayke? she wondered, as a ripple of intrigue ran over her.
Or was it just wishful thinking and nothing more than a simple coincidence?
‘Let’s see what secrets you’re keeping inside,’ she murmured.
Luna started mewing and Lark looked up to see she’d jumped onto the armchair opposite.
She assumed the cat had become too warm sitting in front of the wood burner.
She had to concede, it was pretty toasty, but after how cold she’d been earlier, unlike Luna, Lark wasn’t in a hurry to relinquish the heat just yet.
The clasps on this case were more reluctant to open and, after several attempts, she was forced to admit defeat and dig out a flat-headed screwdriver and a can of WD-40 from the cupboard under the sink in the kitchen.
It took a few minutes of careful jiggling around before the first clasp popped open, but the other was stuck fast. After struggling with it for over half an hour, Lark sat back, her face flushed pink from bending forward for so long – not to mention the heat from the wood burner.
‘Crikey me, Luna, it doesn’t want to budge. ’
Luna mewed loudly in response.
Maybe there’s a reason it doesn’t want to open.
Maybe I should leave it, Lark thought fleetingly.
She huffed out a sigh and sat back, wondering whether to push on or leave it for now, to-ing and fro-ing between her reasons for and against. She was surprised to find she was veering in favour of leaving it; she didn’t want to cause any permanent damage to the suitcase, it being a vintage item, especially when she’d planned on selling it in her shop.
But it wasn’t just that. A peculiar feeling had gradually crept over her as she’d been working on the clasps.
Something that told her the contents were best left undisturbed.
She rubbed her chin, looking at it thoughtfully.
She could hardly offer it for sale if she didn’t know what was inside – it could be chockablock with spiders, and no one would want that!
Not only did the case look shabbier than the one that contained Betty’s clothes, but from what Lark could detect, it wasn’t emanating the same warm and friendly vibes.
It made her wonder if it was an item she’d want to have in her shop anyway, never mind sell on to someone else.
She took a moment while her mind did battle, but in the end her curiosity got the better of her and she told herself if the items inside didn’t feel right, she could get rid of them and the case.
Decision made, she added another squirt of WD-40 and went to make a cup of tea, hoping the time would give the oil a chance to work its way into the nooks and crannies of the clasp and loosen it.
Back in the living room, Lark placed her mug on the coffee table, picked up the screwdriver and set about tackling the stubborn clasps. To her surprise, it only took a few wiggles and pushes before the first opened with a begrudging “clunk”. It would seem the oil had worked a treat.
‘Oh!’
With the second clasp opened, it took a couple of attempts, but she eventually managed to slacken the lid – she was beginning to think the suitcase was determined she wouldn’t find out what it had been keeping hidden inside for so many years.
As she went to ease the top back Luna started yowling loudly in a way she’d never done before.
‘What a racket, Luna! What’s it all about?
Anyone would think you don’t want me to open it.
’ But there was something about the suitcase that made her understand why Luna was suddenly behaving in such an agitated way.
The moment the last clasp had clicked open Lark had felt something indefinable shiver through her.
It bore no resemblance to the feelings the first suitcase had stirred, and she wasn’t at all sure it was good.
Luna continued to yowl.
Lark took a deep, slow breath and braced herself before carefully easing the lid back, trepidation making her heart thump hard in her chest, the acrid smell of the case intensifying.
She sat back on her haunches, taking a moment as her eyes ran over the clutter of contents, tension prickling its way up her spine as she tried to make sense of what she’d just unearthed.
She had the overwhelming feeling that this suitcase hadn’t been opened for decades.
That it had been the keeper of intrigue and secrets, all biding their time, just waiting to be found.
A clutch of nerves jangled in her stomach. She only hoped she wouldn’t regret being the person to find them.
Pushing back her concern, and trying to ignore Luna’s growing protestations, Lark peered into the case, looking more closely at the contents.
She was reluctant to handle them just yet.
The suitcase being compact meant everything was packed tightly together.
Her first glance told her there was a leather-bound book, tied around the middle with a leather thong.
Placed on top of it was an ancient-looking wrought-iron padlock, and a handful of waxy stumps that she assumed were candles.
Beside the book lay a battered pewter tankard, a small wodge of blue cloth separating it from a stoneware bottle that had a cork stopper and a small chip in its neck.
Beside that was a bulky item wrapped in what appeared to be a piece of old eiderdown.
Lark got the feeling that there was nothing haphazard or random about the items’ inclusion in the case.
Though they were strange – almost sinister – it was as if each one served a specific purpose.
Lark found herself being drawn to the bulky item first, wondering what was hidden beneath the piece of eiderdown. She lifted it out, half aware of Luna’s objections increasing in volume, noting it was heavy, and judging by the rattling sound, it and several of the items inside were made of metal.
Her suspicions were confirmed when she unwrapped the eiderdown, revealing a rusty tin battle-scarred with dents. ‘Ooh, what have we here?’ It evidently had quite a story to tell.
She set the tin down on the floor and went to remove the lid, a feeling of uncertainty creeping over her, so different from the emotions Betty’s belongings evoked. She paused a moment, hoping she hadn’t unearthed something that would make her regret ever bringing the suitcase into her home.
Pushing her doubts aside, she leant forward and gripped the lid firmly, ready to prise it off, when Luna started hissing alarmingly.
‘Oh my days!’ A spike of alarm shot through Lark.
Pressing her hand to her chest, she glanced over to see the cat crouching down in the chair, her ears and whiskers flattened to her head and her tail tucked under her.
It was completely out of character, she’d never seen her usually tranquil feline behave in such a defensive way.
‘Luna, what is it?’ she asked, concerned. She went to give her a reassuring stroke, but Luna continued to hiss and spit, making Lark withdraw her hand; she didn’t want to risk the cat lashing out at her.
‘It’s okay, Luna, it’s just a tin. It can’t hurt you,’ she said soothingly.
But despite her words of comfort, Lark had already got a sense of something unusual about the tin.
Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
It wasn’t what she’d call sinister, but neither was it what she could describe as innocent and friendly.
It had a story behind it, and instead of making her reluctant to open it, she found herself intrigued to know what was inside.
She turned back to Luna, whose yowling and hissing had subsided.
‘S’okay, sweetheart. Everything’s fine. If I find anything unpleasant, I’ll put it outside. Promise.’ This time, the cat allowed her owner to smooth a hand over her head.
Lark was relieved to see her words seemed to pacify Luna who sat watching quietly, though her ears were still flat to her head.
Turning her attention back to the tin, Lark went to remove the lid, but it would appear to be as reluctant to budge as the clasps of the case had been. It evidently wasn’t eager to share its secrets.
After a brief struggle, the lid surrendered, but before Lark had a chance to think, it was as if the energy of the contents rushed at her. ‘Oh!’ She was no stranger to picking up unusual sensations from the items she was considering for her shop, but this was something else.
Luna gave one final hiss of alarm, before leaping down from the armchair and darting out of the room and racing upstairs.
Lark steadied herself, wishing she’d asked Nate to stay; she could do with his level-headed, calming influence right now.
She set the lid down, her nose twitching at the bitter smell that rose from the tin, a discombobulating energy loitering around her.
A frown crumpled her brow as she tried to make sense of the odd cluster of items arranged within.
Taking up most of the room in the tin was something large wrapped in a piece of heavily stained cloth.
Tucked beside it was a container made of dulled copper, alongside a worse-for-wear leather pouch, several pieces of torn cloth and what appeared to be small round balls of lead.
There were also several coins, the sort of which Lark had never seen before.
But what she found most intriguing was the rusty metal key.
It was huge, the type she could imagine for the door to a castle or a dungeon.
She reached in and lifted out the item wrapped in the stained cloth. It was a solid weight in her hand and she had a sickening feeling she knew what it was. Unfurling the fabric, her fears were confirmed, sending nausea swirling in her stomach.
Looking back at her was an old-fashioned pistol.