162Darkest Before The Dawn
Two years after the Great War, the circumstances force a widowed Clara Oswald to move back into her parents' estate. Unhappy with the old-fashioned living arrangements and always looking for an excuse to evade her hated stepmother, Clara embarks on a quest to find out what she can about the urban myth revolving around the Hunter, a ghost figure haunting the forest at night. What she didn't expect to find, however, is the myth to be real.
New year, new fic :) Hope you all had a wonderful start into 2019!
Chapter 1
The car engine stuttered dangerously as the driver took another turn and drove along a stony path where, at the end, Clara Oswald spotted the unfamiliar manor. She would have to get used to calling it a home, but the few memories she had of the house were almost as old as Clara was herself and she couldn't imagine that she would find happiness here in this strange place when she would have preferred to stay in London.
Sometimes, it seemed as if her life was nothing but a string of unfortunate events in which she had no say over the path her life was taking and as much as she wanted to blame it on something or something, Clara knew in her heart that maybe, she was just a very unlucky person. At the tender age of sixteen, Clara had lost her mother and even though she was old enough to understand that no one was to blame for the horrible accident, she wasn't old enough to understand why her father had felt the need to replace her just two years later. The dislike Clara harboured for her stepmother, a cruel and money-grubbing woman, had ultimately driven her out of the house just before her twentieth birthday.
From the first day, her life in London had made her happy. She had gone to university and later taught a small class of the sweetest children Clara could have asked for. She had even found a man to marry and settle down with. But the war, the unexpected loss of her job and a fire had changed everything and robbed her of her love, her purpose and eventually, her home as well. Now, here she was at the age of just thirty-two, a widow, moving back in with her father and his second wife.
Coco yawned and placed her head on Clara's lap, tearing her out of her thoughts and away from her self-pity and she reached out to touch her pet's ears as if to reassure her dog that her owner was still here. The Cavalier King Charles Spaniel had been a compromise between her and her late husband over five years ago and now, Coco was Clara's most treasured possession. Danny had wanted no pets, Clara had wanted a cat - somehow, they had settled on a dog because, at that time, her husband couldn't be persuaded to welcome a feline into their home. When Clara glanced at the manor again, she thought that at least Coco would be happy here. She would be in the company of other dogs and have the chance to run around in the garden all day long, something she would never have been able to do in the confined space of Clara's old flat. When the car finally came to a halt in front of the house, Clara decided to hold on to that thought.
Her father greeted her with a broad smile from the top of the stairs and spread his arms even though she was too far away for a proper hug. "Clara!" he exclaimed happily as he ascended in her direction. "I thought maybe the driver had gotten lost somewhere."
Coco jumped out of the car before her and started sniffing around the unfamiliar ground curiously while Clara was helped out of her seat by her father's hand.
"No worries," she replied. She had asked the driver to take a tour around London one last time before she left, knowing that she would miss the sight from now on. "We got here eventually."
"Do you like the car?" her father asked, his voice almost brimming over with pride. It seemed to be a rather new acquisition.
Not knowing what to say, Clara merely smiled at her father. She had often missed him in London, but the thought of Linda had quickly blown away any trace of homesickness. Now, Clara would be forced to live with them, including her stepmother, and it made her heart heavy.
"Do you even remember the house?" her father wanted to know. The smile on his face seemed so honest and heartfelt that Clara had no doubt he was happy about her return, but she found it hard to conjure up the same excitement. If only she had found another teaching job, then she could have afforded a new flat and stayed in London.
"Clara?"
Her head shot around and she looked at her father who seemed to expect an answer of some sort. Slowly but surely she remembered that he had asked about the house.
As her eyes trailed over the large manor, Clara couldn't help but admit that it was gorgeous - and that its size would certainly provide her with enough opportunities to evade Linda. Apart from the impressive building, there was hardly much else to be seen. Gardening didn't seem to be Linda's favourite pastime as the garden mainly consisted of a neat lawn and a couple of bushes. Behind it, there were only the trees of the forest that surrounded the estate. She wondered how long it would take her to reach the nearest town on her bicycle.
"Not really," Clara responded eventually. "I was a kid when I last came here."
Her father smiled his bright, warm smile. "Of course," he replied. "You must be tired. Do you want to come inside?"
Clara nodded absent-mindedly and as her father led her inside, she tried to remember her first and last visit to this place, but her mind remained mostly blank. Her mother had been the wealthy one in her family and she had inherited this place from her parents. After her father's death, it would pass into Clara's possession, but that wasn't a thought she liked to dwell on. What she couldn't understand was why her father had brought Linda here - into her mother's old house where she and generations before her had grown up in when they had owned a perfectly nice place farther north. It just didn't seem right in Clara's eyes, but then again, a lot of decision her father had made since marrying Linda didn't.
Two maids hurried towards them as Clara entered the main hall and her father set out to introduce them. She only caught their names - Martha and Jenny - before her thoughts wandered off once again and she focused on the elegant and expensive looking interior. Even if Linda didn't pay a lot of attention to the garden, she certainly had taken the time to decorate the inside from oriental carpets to heavy drapes and elaborate furniture.
"Where's Linda?" Clara asked, interrupting her father's explanation about which of the servants was responsible for individual tasks.
Once again, her father smiled. He obviously didn't mind not being listened to. "She's in the library, having her afternoon tea," he explained quietly. "You can say hello later. Martha will show you your room where you can unpack."
Not knowing what else to do, Clara agreed and they walked through the house in an awkward line: Martha leading the way with Clara right on her heels, Coco following after them and, a few steps behind, a young man carrying her suitcases. Luckily for Clara, the fire that had robbed her of her home had only damaged the downstairs and left most of her things undamaged. However, it would be a while until the smell of smoke had faded from her clothes as she soon realised upon opening the suitcase inside her new quarters.
Clara's rooms were located at the far end of the house's ground floor, far away from her father or Linda and she strongly suspected that her stepmother had something to do with that. Not that she minded very much. Her rooms were large and bright and opened to a small terrace overlooking the forest. It was quiet, almost too much so.
"Is everything alright, Miss Oswald?"
Clara turned around, looking at the friendly maid. "Mrs," she corrected her softly.
She wasn't entirely sure why, but it seemed wrong to still use Danny's name when he was dead longer than they had been married and if she was entirely honest, she had never really liked his last name. Yet she was still a widow and she didn't like to omit the detail of having been married. Mrs Oswald seemed like the right choice until she thought of something even better.
"But you can call me Clara," she said. It was highly inappropriate and Martha seemed to think so, too, judging by her raised eyebrows. "Please, I insist."
"Are you sure?" the maid asked carefully.
In London, Clara had lived without a maid just fine and the idea of ordering someone around now seemed strange to her.
Clara smiled at the woman who seemed roughly her own age. "Yes, I'm sure," she confirmed. "I haven't had a maid in years and, to be completely honest, I need a friend more than I need a servant. And you can tell Jenny that applies to her as well."
At last, Martha's face lit up. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Yes," Clara replied happily. "After I change my clothes, a tour of the house would be nice."
"Consider it done, Mrs… Clara," Martha replied. When she smiled, Clara knew that even though she would be living under the same roof as her stepmother, at least, she wouldn't be alone.
The rest of the day passed quickly. Clara and Coco explored the large manor and the surrounding gardens under Martha's guidance, they sneaked into the kitchen where Coco received a couple of treats from the dinner Jenny was preparing and then, they walked outside to have a look at the non-human residents. In the stables, Clara found four beautiful horses and the kennels held more than enough playmates for the curious Coco who sniffed at the other canines curiously. Maybe, living her wouldn't be as bad as she had initially thought. Maybe, some fresh air and the change of scenery would actually do her good. When the time came for dinner, however, it was impossible to avoid her stepmother any longer.
"I hope the rooms are to your liking?" Linda wanted to know even though her voice betrayed that she couldn't care less about what Clara thought of them.
"They're perfect, thank you," she replied politely before taking another spoonful of soup. She picked a carrot from the dish and dropped it under the table for Coco to lick up when no one else was looking, sure that neither her father nor her stepmother would approve of it.
"Your father was in charge of the decoration because I wasn't sure what you liked."
"Actually, that's a task I handed over to Martha and Jenny. They're around your age and they know better what should go inside a young woman's bedroom than I do," her father corrected his wife.
"Like I said," Clara repeated, "they're perfect. Martha and Jenny did a great job and they are both very nice."
When a ruckus broke out in the kennel and the dogs started to howl, Clara raised her head to the large window and looked outside. It was dark for a late September evening and she couldn't see what was wrong.
"Don't mind that, dear," her father told her. "They do this every night. That's why our bedrooms are all on the other side of the house."
But even in her bedroom, Clara could still hear the occasional howl mixed with all the other sounds common in rural areas. After years in London, she had almost forgotten about the foxes and stags and the noises they could make that varied so much from the car engines and the clattering of hooves on the cobblestones.
"Is there anything else you need?" Jenny asked Clara as she was preparing for bed. "We still have some of that cake in the kitchen if you want a bedtime sweet."
"No, thank you," Clara responded with a smile.
In the distance, a dreadful sound tore through the night and it made Clara flinch. She couldn't tell why, but the noise seemed to make her heart skip a beat as the little hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It was a deep, almost mournful sound and it took her a few moments to realise that it had only been another stag, but her reaction was enough to prompt Jenny to cross the room and close the window.
"It can get quite noisy during the night," she explained with a polite smile, but underneath her friendliness, Clara could tell that the noise had startled the maid as well even if she was too polite to show it. Jenny's hands trembled as she closed the curtains.
Clara merely nodded, but the strange sound was still too vivid in her memory to let it go. It was almost as if it had seeped right into her bones.
"You should sleep," Jenny advised her. "You had a long day."
Clara couldn't help but agree with her and she swiftly crawled under the covers, Coco joining her in an instant. The dog curled up on the foot of the bed and when Jenny left the room, she switched off the lights.
In the darkness, Clara suddenly became aware of her unfamiliar surroundings, much more aware than she had been during the day. The smell that clung in the air was strange and fresh and suddenly, she missed the noises of the city. Even though her body was exhausted, Clara lay awake for a long time, listening to every crack, every hoot, every roar and the barking of the dogs continued throughout the entire night. Somewhere between all of that, Clara could have sworn she heard a rider galloping through the night and a shiver ran over her body.
Only when Coco finally crawled under the duvet to join her did Clara finally fall asleep. In her dreams, the sound of all the forest's animals continued.
