Gracemarch

By JJ Barnes

GRACEMARCH

Written by JJ Barnes

with Jonathan McKinney

and Cliff Thomas

 

Jane Waters lives a mundane life, working as a waitress, and with a boyfriend who doesn't seem to care. Her sister, Cassie Waters, is a glamorous horror writer, traveling the world, and far too busy to listen to Jane's woes.

 

The two sisters live very different lives, disconnected from one another, and unaware of a family secret that's about to come to light. When their mother dies unexpectedly, Jane and Cassie are pushed back together. Their lives become intertwined as they explore the mysteries their childhood home holds, and remember their sister Susie who died tragically in childhood.

 

As Susie's memory starts to dominate their lives, they don't realise that a mysterious organisation is monitoring their every move, and powerful people are closing in on them.

 

What secrets did their mother have? How are their lives about to change? And what really happened to Susie?

 

The Future Of Gracemarch

JJ Barnes, Jonathan McKinney, Cliff Thomas and the Gracemarch team hope that as excitement and interest in this story is reignited, they can gain funding enough to complete the film and see their story on the big screen.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: JJ Barnes
• Release date: Oct 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9798861866781

Book preview

Chapter One

Jane Waters moved around her apartment in a daze. She was incredibly nervous and couldn’t focus properly. She had to find something to do, somewhere to focus the nervous energy that was frothing away inside her. She ran her fingers through her long dark hair and forced herself to focus.

Get your shit together, Jane, she muttered to herself. She was being ridiculous. She was thirty-two years old, not a teenager dealing with a first crush and a surge of pubescent hormones. She was a woman. An adult. What would Cassie say? She’d say Jane was paranoid and over thinking things again. But Jane couldn’t turn off that niggle of anxiety that told her something was wrong, and it was probably something to do with her.

She chewed on her lip then stepped from her narrow hallway into her little living room, deciding to do something to make it feel more homely. It didn’t matter that Kevin had spent more hours in her little apartment above McClaren’s bar than she could count, she felt like if her home was in some way off putting that would mean that she, Jane, was also off putting.

Moving fast, she lit candles, plumped sofa cushions, and adjusted the photo of herself and Kevin that she kept on the windowsill, angling it towards the sofa. A nice memory. Their weekend in London where they had drinks and laughs and made love. Hopefully, she thought, Kevin will see the photo and be thrown into the same memories.

She looked at the time. He was due any minute, and Kevin was never late. Kevin considered lateness to be the height of rudeness, and Kevin had no time for rudeness.

She smoothed her slinky red dress and tried to perch nonchalantly on the sofa, but her mind wouldn’t let her body rest. She stood back up and circled the room, examining it for potential flaws.

Looking at the little bookcase by the TV, she noticed one of Cassie’s books was pulled out a little. She supposed Kevin must have been looking at it when he was last here. Jane pulled the heavy hardback out and examined at it; The Haunting Of Witchend House. She turned it over and looked at the back cover. There she was, her sister. Her beautiful, successful, powerful sister. Renowned and award-winning horror writer, Cassandra Waters, apple of their mother’s eye, magazine cover gracing darling of the literary world. Of course, Kevin was looking at her. He wouldn’t let the fact that Cassie hated his guts get in the way of a little light perving.

Frustrated, Jane shoved the book roughly back amongst the others.

She looked at the time. He wasn’t exactly late, but it was a minute after 8, and he’d told her he’d be there by eight o’clock. She twitched a gauzy curtain aside and looked down into the street but there was no sign of him.

Maybe he’d been hit by a car... No. Paranoid. Stop it.

Jane walked into the hall. It took about six steps because her apartment was tiny and designed by somebody who felt multiple tiny, claustrophobic rooms was preferable to one open and smooth space.

Opening the front door, Jane peered out. No sign of Kevin. She closed the door again. This wasn’t a good sign. Cancelled dates, less interest in sex, leaving early. He was getting bored with her. She knew it.

Jane examined herself in the full-length mirror on the wall behind her front door. She had made a lot more effort tonight than normal. Her usual leggings and baggy t-shirt had been replaced with the clingiest and most revealing dress she owned. She hadn’t worn that dress since they had first started dating. Back when Kevin couldn’t keep his hands off her.

To match the effort of not breathing too much in the dress, she had put on high heels and applied lipstick. Instead of her usual easy pony-tail, she had left her hair loose and fluffed it out to try and emulate the way Cassie managed to make her hair look at parties. She was going for glamorous, sexy, and confident, and she had a game plan. She was going to suggest they go out, and then she would order lots of wine so she could get over her awkwardness, then she would give him a night of passion and fun. If he didn’t appreciate this effort, Jane didn’t know what to do.

She took a deep breath and looked herself in the eyes. Large and brown, and heavily decorated with mascara and eye shadow, her eyes looked full of the sadness she was trying to hide.

There was a knock at the door.

Jane immediately pushed the feelings of despair back in the box they had escaped from, and put a smile on her face. She walked to the door, took a deep breath, and pulled it open.

Hi, she said, beaming.

Hi, said Kevin, glancing at her momentarily before making to walk past her.

Jane stepped aside so he could enter, making sure to pose in a way that looked alluring as she did so, but he walked in without a comment.

Jane chewed her lip then pushed the door shut. Maybe he was tired. When he’d phoned her earlier, she’d hinted that she had ideas for their night, but he didn’t seem to have considered this meant going out. His chinos and band shirt were no different from normal. His long blonde hair was scruffily tied up in a bun on top of his head, and his face hadn’t been shaved for a few days. He still managed to look exceptionally handsome though. Like a GQ model photographed on holiday instead of in a sharp suit.

Jane suddenly felt a bit ridiculously over dressed in her slinky dress next to him, but she determined to persevere. If she acted like she just accidentally happened to look incredible it probably had more impact anyway.

She led him into the living room, and said in her most casual voice, I’m glad you called I was... I was just gonna be sitting around!

You didn’t have to get all dressed up, he said, sitting down heavily on the sofa and putting his elbows on his knees, not looking up at her.

Okay... This was not going well. Jane sat on the edge of the coffee table, letting the skin of her bare legs touch his hands as she did so. I thought it might be nice to go out... she leaned forwards, putting her cleavage directly in his eyeline and said huskily, Or stay in?

Kevin looked down her top for a moment then sighed. Shall we have a drink?

Always, said Jane sitting back upright. If she couldn’t crack his shell with boobs, she would crack it with booze.

She got up and headed into the tiny kitchen on the other side of the hall. The kitchen was really just a corridor itself, just half of it had some tiny cupboards, and the other half had an oven, a fridge, and the washer/dryer Cassie had bought her as a house-warming gift.

She crouched down and found a bottle of wine, then stood up and took a couple of glasses out of the open cupboard above. The room was too narrow for casually leaving cupboard doors hanging open, but she guessed she’d just been distracted. She had been thinking so much about their relationship and changes they could make for it to become something real and serious. She wanted to become something serious.

Carrying the glasses and wine back in, Jane set them on the coffee table. She’d been planning on chatting about her ideas whilst they were out, but it didn’t feel like that was happening so she figured she might as well do it now.

So, she said, pouring the wine out and trying to calm her nerves. I’ve been thinking about our direction, well my direction, and I don’t want to be a barmaid forever so I...

I think we should break up.

Jane froze. She stared at the glasses full of wine. She wanted to speak but felt like she’d taken a fist to the guts. She feared she would throw up if she opened her mouth. Her legs were wobbling so she lowered herself onto the coffee table, then picked a glass of wine up with a shaking hand and took a big swig.

Actually, it’s not that I think we should break up, Kevin continued, still not looking at her. I want to break up... like... right now.

Well, it’s good that you’re not doubting yourself, said Jane, before taking another big swig of wine.

Kevin picked up his own glass and took a drink. Jane watched him for a moment. He seemed calm, almost business like. As if he was just waiting for the appropriate amount of time to pass before he could leave. The doctor’s waiting room of break-ups.

She knew he didn’t want to talk. She could sense he had said his piece and didn’t want to say more. But she had to know. She had to ask.

She lowered the glass of wine back onto the table, then looked up at him, trying desperately not to cry. Why? she asked, her voice cracking.

Kevin took a moment, staring at the floor, before looking up at her. Jane wondered if he was deciding whether to bother telling her the truth.

He took another drink then set the glass back down. There’s someone else.

Jane picked her wine back up and drank several gulps in rapid succession.

She’s... Kevin went on, his voice softening and a smile playing over his lips as he looked wistfully towards the window, over the top of the photograph frame he shared with Jane. Snapping out of it, he looked back at Jane. Well, that’s not the point.

No, don’t spare the gushing on my account, Kevin. Go ahead, snapped Jane, her abject misery giving way to a surge of bubbling resentment that was starting to boil in her guts. She’s what?

Kevin’s eyes hardened. Well, she’s not depressed all the time for a start.

Jane snorted in disdain. It was such a low blow that she couldn’t even think of a reply. She was furious and hurting. She drank more wine, spilling some on her slinky red dress in the process. A dark blotch of misery against the shimmering red fabric of hope and naivety.

No, that’s not... Kevin shook his head, guilt crossing his face. That’s not...

No, please, said Jane. She’s neurotypical. I’m thrilled for you.

Kevin leaned back against the sofa, rubbing his eyes. Jane knew he hated it when she was sarcastic or snappy. He’d talked to her at length about the damage a ‘negative attitude’ did to your inner goodness. He’d warned her that her own goodness was being chipped away at every time she snapped and unleashed the inner hostility at the world that she carried around with her.

Jane felt like her inner hostility was rapidly becoming outer hostility. And she was fine with it.

Chapter Two

W hat’s her name? Jane asked Kevin, glaring at him.

Kevin looked sternly at her, to match her energy, but then his eyes softened. Ellen. He said, his voice full of warmth, just the thought of her was enough to smooth the edges of the breakup he was supposed to be in the middle of.

How long? she snapped.

She’s been in my LARPing crew for a few months, he said.

Months?! Jane cried.

But we’ve only been texting about this for about two weeks!

Jane put her head in her hands. She’d always hated that stupid LARPing crew. He’d always resented her for not being more supportive or celebrating his triumph in battle more seriously.

According to Kevin, she lacked joy in life, and she’d worked so hard to change his mind. She’d tried to pretend that his LARPing quests really mattered. She’d toasted to his victories, commiserated over his losses, and listened to endless stories of battles and camp fires and clan rivalries. But she just couldn’t sum up the energy to fake it convincingly enough. Especially when he showed her photos of himself with Chackfar The Barbarian who, Jane happened to know from late night shifts at the bar, was actually Barry The Banker; a balding, middle aged man with a deeply unsatisfying sex life and a penchant for staring at her arse when she bent down to get things from the fridge.

Jane took a breath. She was humiliated and heartbroken, but she wasn’t going to cry. He didn’t deserve her tears. Fortunately, the anger she felt helped contain the sorrow. She bet Ellen had genuine joy over Kevin’s battles against Fred The Furry; an actual furry who had found a new excuse for strutting his stuff in a pink wolf suit.

So, she’s more fun. Is that it? asked Jane, feeling bitterness surge, imagining a perky blonde dressed like Xena. She’s early twenties, right?

Kevin didn’t respond, but Jane noticed his eyebrow twitch. Of course, he’d gone for someone younger. Jane herself was several years younger than he was, so it made sense that he’d just keep climbing down the age brackets. Kevin stayed silent, but that smug smile of a man who’s getting laid regularly by someone much younger and hotter than himself kept springing back onto his face.

Tell me she’s not a teenager, Kevin, Jane snapped.

No, she’s not a fucking teenager, Jane. Christ! He looked angry. Jane preferred that to the smug, soppy smile. Let him be angry.

Well, twenty quid says she’s twenty-three or under, said Jane, picking her wine back up and smiling at him coldly.

At least she wants to show me off to her family, said Kevin, his voice like a sulky teenager.

Excuse me? Jane demanded, the low blow of that comment not quite sinking in. Her father had died when she was young. She’d been brought up by her mother alone, and her mother... she had changed lately; become even less interested, even more distant.

Jane had told Kevin everything.  She’d told him how she was never the favourite. She’d told him how hard things had been for her growing up watching Cassie’s successes contrasted against her own failings, how lonely she had been as a child, and how she felt completely isolated from her family. And now he was throwing Ellen’s totally normal picture book family at her without a thought.

Oh, come on! I’m GREAT with parents, said Kevin, ignoring the look of horror that Jane couldn’t keep from her face. Parents adore me.

Jane didn’t have much other than wine to throw back, and she didn’t feel like wasting it. She opted for a snipe about Ellen’s age. Well, no doubt Ellen’s will. You’re probably in the same age bracket.

Can you fucking stop with that? he snapped, his eyes flaring. She’s not a child.

No, you’re right, said Jane. I’m being insensitive.

She was furious. Partly because he was being such an arsehole. And partly because Cassie was right. She’d always said he was a dickhead, and how Jane loathed it when Cassie was right and she was the screw up.

Kevin sighed and rubbed his temple, a look of sadness sweeping his face. I thought you were The One, Jane.

It felt like a stab in the guts. The One. Jane had never been anybody’s One. And now he was using her failure to be someone special as a reason to feel sorry for himself. Dickhead.

That’s great, she muttered.

But you put me in a box.

Jane felt tears welling in her eyes and she was losing the ability to keep them down. This was just too awful. She wanted him to go, get out of her face and let her feel all her feelings. But she couldn’t tell him to. If he left, he’d be gone. It would be over.

Kevin put a hand on Jane’s knee. I wanted to help you make something of yourself. Jane glared at his hand, the tears vanishing as anger reclaimed control. But... you never want to go out. He went on, not noticing the fury Jane was feeling at the presence of his hand. Ellen does.

Jane whacked his hand off her leg. I literally JUST suggested we go out!

Kevin ignored her. She’s ambitious, he went on. She goes for promotions, she practises her interview technique with me, she doesn’t make excuses and... sleep all the time.

Jane refilled her glass then choked most of it down in one swallow. Anything to numb the pain of this hideous night. Anything to blank out the images of perky, perfect Ellen and her fucking interview techniques.

The number of times I’ve defended you to Cassie... she muttered to herself.

Kevin got cross. The subject of Cassie had been a sore one for a long time.

And, he said, glaring at her. She thinks you’ve been gaslighting me!

What the fuck?

My organic anti-fatigue eye patches?

Jane threw back her hair in exasperation. I never touched your fucking eye patches.

Well, I didn’t move them, Jane. I keep them in my satchel. All the time.

I DIDN’T TAKE YOUR FUCKING EYE PATCHES, KEVIN! Jane roared, slamming her wine glass down.

She hated being accused of moving stuff she hadn’t touched. She grew up the youngest of three sisters, and Cassie and Susie were always accusing her of taking their things. Even when they were teenagers, Cassie blamed her for taking her lipstick or her shoes or her magazine, and Jane never did. Not that anybody believed her. Their mother always sided with Cassie. Always said maybe Jane just couldn’t remember doing it. But she did remember, and she didn’t take them.

Kevin tried to look unbothered by her shouting. But Jane knew he didn’t like it. Well, it’s not just that, he said, looking away from her huffily. There’s my organic coriander seed pouch.

Jane rolled her eyes and buried her face in her hands. Oh my God.

Kevin’s pretentious cooking and fussy ways had long caused friction. Jane wanted to order some dirty Chinese food and Kevin insisted on buying raw ginger and lemongrass and spending hours in the kitchen complaining about the lack of space and how Jane’s wok was really just a frying pan. Jane wanted to order a big, fat pizza to eat in front of a movie, and Kevin tried to teach her how to make sourdough bread.

Kevin glared at her. You KNOW I need that for my Thursday night Warhammer group curries. You know that!

Jane downed the rest of the wine in the glass and her head swam. She squeezed the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath.

I always make sure I have it, Kevin went on, still fretting over the ridiculous seed pouch that stunk the place out. And it’s always not where I left it!

You’re crazy, Jane muttered.

Well, actually, I think you want me to THINK I’m crazy. Because ever since I’ve known you, my stuff goes missing.

Jane stared at her wine. She had nothing to say, nothing to offer. Nobody trusted her. Nobody believed her. She felt hopeless. Fine, she said, the fight in her dying like a candle deprived of oxygen.

And Ellen thinks you do it to mess with me.

Well, I don’t. Jane felt tears tickle her eyes again. There was no point holding onto pride. No point pretending Kevin cared about whether she was strong or not. Kevin didn’t care. Jane was going to be alone. Again.

Can I get my things?

Help yourself.

Jane refilled her wine glass and slowly drank the contents as Kevin huffily moved around the flat, gathering his toothbrush and his socks, his stack of manga comics from her bedside table, and the brandy he kept in her cupboard for special occasions.

Jane sipped her wine and waited for him to finish.

So, he said, once his bags were packed. I’ll be off then.

Bye, said Jane, not looking up at him.

He pulled open the front door then stopped.

Jane? Jane looked up at him. His face was full of performed concern. Try not to drink too much, yeah?

As he pulled the door to, Jane threw the wine glass against the door, glass and blood red wine sprayed across the wall and carpet.

Chapter Three

With the wine bottle empty, Jane wandered into the kitchen and dumped it in the sink. There was a box for recycling by the door, but it was full, and she couldn’t face the idea of doing anything with it. The bottle could wait.

She opened the fridge. She wanted to open another bottle. She wanted to open another three. But there was no more wine in the flat, and she was in no fit state to go trying to buy another one. She couldn’t really afford it anyway. Kevin was usually the one who brought the wine.

She closed the fridge again and went back into the living room. She wobbled on her heels, then kicked them off angrily. It’s not like anybody appreciated her nearly breaking her ankle for the sake of what little sex appeal she could muster.

Looking around, the room felt oddly empty. Kevin hadn’t kept much there, but the spaces that were once occupied now felt like vast voids. She ran her hand along the windowsill where he’d kept a photograph of his mother, but the space was now empty. The Xbox was gone from under the television, and the pile of games was moved from the floor in front of the unit. Each empty space felt like a stab in the guts.

What the... Jane looked at her bookcase and saw Cassie’s book was pulled out again.

She stormed over and pushed it back in. How dare he take time for one last letch before leaving her heartbroken in his wake? Then she thought about her sister and felt a surge of desperate loneliness course through her. She pulled the book back out and looked at Cassie’s face. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, and finally, she allowed herself to sob.

She sat down on the coffee table, clutching the copy of The Haunting Of Witchend House in her lap, and felt the tears pouring down her cheeks.

Cassie could be anywhere in the world at that moment. Her grand book tour was taking her all over the place. Occasionally she sent Jane a selfie from some glittering party, but mostly Jane found out where she was from the PR Team that kept her fans updated on social media. Cassandra Waters signing books in Prague, meeting officials in Berlin, or discussing film rights in LA.

But she was still her sister, and right now Jane felt like she really, truly, needed