The Secret Blueprint

By Clare Blanchard

How there's no such thing as an ordinary person,

but there's enchantment in the very ground we walk on,

if we know where to look for it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: CB Books
• Release date: May 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393188803

Clare Blanchard

Clare writes noir crime and mystery fiction with a strong historical twist, set mainly in European locations, including the wine-growing area where she lives. Her humour is often as dark as her themes and the history of her locations is like another character in the story. Prepare for a unique take on everything you thought you knew....

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by

Clare Blanchard

The Secret Blueprint

Copyright © 2020 Clare Blanchard

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Cover design by C. Krojzlova

Chapter 1: Nothing is What it Seems

It was six o’clock on a dark, chilly Friday evening, and the start of a long weekend at Kostlow’s convenience store in Eastborough, Yorkshire. It was cold and blowy outside. People were hurrying home to get warm, just darting in and out of Kostlow’s, rain dripping off hoods and delinquent umbrellas, to pick up a few things for the weekend.

Eastborough had the general air of a town struggling to make ends meet. Apart from the spectacular natural beauty of the hills around it, it could have been the prototype for a place called Grungeville. Hardly a town, then, you would expect a mystery to unfold that had its roots in ancient times and the darkest of dark magic. A mystery that would lead our main characters on a journey around Europe and the Middle East, and through some of the most arcane literature in the world to uncover the magic that still exerts power in the very streets we walk today.

We might call Sylvia Smetana, sitting that night at her check-out in Kostlow’s, one of the catalysts in our story. She will certainly pop up with a few important things to say later on. Forty-something and a bit chubby around the edges, Sylvia was just starting her shift at the checkout. She was getting a taste of a job she might even end up doing permanently, if she decided to give up her teaching career, which was now looking more and more likely. Sylvia taught Religious Studies at Precious Hall School, a boarding school in a beautiful cathedral town in the south of England – as different from Eastborough as you could imagine. A cheap tea mug had been plonked on a shelf near her checkout, containing the umpteenth cup of tea that almost always went cold before she had time to drink it. The garish strip lighting in the ceiling overhead buzzed ominously as usual, while her legs and feet bore the brunt of the rain-sodden gusts of wind from the door every time anyone came in or went out.

Suddenly, Sylvia became aware of a cold presence near her and a triumphantly amused expectancy in the air. When she looked up, there in front of her, of all people, stood Pauline Jenkins, the arctic Deputy Principal of Precious Hall School. Sylvia had completely forgotten that Pauline had been born in the Eastborough area, as she herself had. She must be visiting relatives. Away from the career and status she was used to in the beautiful southern cathedral town of Newbourne, Pauline Jenkins looked even more dried up and forbidding than Sylvia remembered her. The packets of green tea and organic ginger biscuits Pauline was about to buy stood to attention in her two bony hands as she quietly savoured her position of command over Sylvia, sitting in her grungy Kostlow’s overall at her grotty little checkout. Sylvia could almost hear the cogs turning in Pauline Jenkins’ brain: Sylvia, working at a corner store checkout? What a come-down!

True to form, Pauline launched her first poisoned missile, a sneering smile, while her features crystallized into their usual haughty stare, gloating over Sylvia’s humbled status.

Well, fancy seeing you here, Sylvia! she purred, proffering her tasteful gourmet purchases and gazing down as Sylvia ran them through the check out.