AUDREY

Through barely opened eyes, I reach across the bed to the bedside table where my phone rests. I squint, focussing on the screen. It's 6 am. That's unexpected. I feel completely rested. If I'd woken at that time back home, it'd be to an alarm, then I'd hurriedly dress and scurry downstairs to get ready before waking Aislinn an hour later. Clasping my hands above my head, I stretch as I rise quietly from the bed.

Aislinn's still fast asleep. Tiptoeing out of the room, I head across the hall to use the bathroom. A woman's voice interrupts me. It must be Maggie. How did she know I was up? Ignoring her for now, I continue, the urge growing with each step. Stealthily, I return to the bedroom and dress, opening and closing the drawers to the tallboy so not to disturb Aislinn. Just because I'm awake at the crack of dawn, doesn't mean she needs to. In fact, I bet she'll be in a much better mood today if I let her sleep.

Taking one final glance in the mirror, I brush out creases in my floral maxi dress before inching out of the door, still striving to be silent. But it's a futile attempt in this old home. The wooden boards speak to my descension as I make my way down the stairs.

"In the kitchen," Maggie says in a sing-song voice. "Breakfast is almost ready."

I follow the sugary scent of maple bacon intertwined with the sharp aroma of coffee grinds, finally rounding the corner to the kitchen. Maggie stands by the stove, crooning along to the radio's lulling sound. She finally notices me lurking in the doorway.

"Good morning," she says with a wide grin. She wipes her hands on her apron before gesturing me to the table. "Sit, sit. Coffee or tea, dear?" she says, shuffling plates and bowls onto the tabletop.

"Umm, coffee please," I reply. Scrambled eggs with gooey cheese, slices of crispy bacon, and thick slices of toast line the centre, with an array of condiments scattered in between. My stomach rumbles at the sight, mouth watering in unison.

"Aislinn still asleep then?" she asks, passing me a steaming mug.

I take it and sip. "Mm, that's good. And yes, she's still sleeping. She needs as much as she can get, or else we'll all have hell to pay," I say only half in jest.

She gives me a look that says she knows just what I mean before turning back to the stove, stirring a simmering pot. I return my attention to the buffet in front of me, selecting a little of each because, well, why not? We are on holiday after all. Besides, it's nice to have someone else cook for me for a change.

As I eat, I take in the kitchen. It's reminiscent of an old farmhouse kitchen, but it's blended carefully with a twist of modern. The similarities in design between this and the bathroom upstairs are remarkable. Perhaps she had a fancy designer do it for her? She must be making mint at this B&B to afford that. Good on her, though. She's obviously cornered the market in this town, especially with this feast.

I take another long sip of my coffee. When I place the mug back in front of me, I find Maggie staring from across the room. Her hands are on her hips, just watching with a smirk at the corner of her mouth.

"I love your kitchen," I say practically swooning over it. "Did you update it recently?"

Maggie smiles broadly. "Yes, my nephew Jake helped me with the project. He's quite the contractor. He stayed here for a while before he bought his place; a little cabin not far away. You've seen the bathroom upstairs?"

I nod. "Yes, I have. It's straight out of a magazine."

Her brows raise fondly. "Well, he designed and built that too, as well as my own ensuite, in exchange for letting him live here rent-free." She pauses momentarily looking around the room." It's quite nice, don't you think? A 'modern country' design he called it, the white with pops of blue."

"That's amazing. You certainly have an eye for decorating though," I say, waving my hand at cushions propped on chairs, artwork on one wall, and some other accessories dotted around the room.

"I wish I could take credit for that, but it's all Jake. He really has an eye for detail. Jake's such a sweet boy, he'd give the shirt off his back for just about anyone really." The expression on her face seems to change, sparkle disappearing from her eyes as they well, and her voice lowers. "It's such a shame, though. These past few years have been rough on him." But then she shakes the moment away and grins. "So, Audrey, what are you and Aislinn up to today?"

Before I get the words out, Aislinn appears rubbing her eyes as she ambles to the kitchen island. With open arms, Maggie pulls her into a bear hug.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," she teases. Aislinn groans and Maggie releases her. "Have a seat with your mother, dear."

On the other side of the table, Aislinn takes her place, piling her plate high with eggs and bacon. I know she'll be enjoying this. It's a favourite we usually reserve for special occasions like birthdays and Christmas. Her stomach seems endless as I watch on. I remember when I could eat like that and still stay in shape. And in all honesty, I'd love another piece of crispy bacon, but I refrain, tugging at the already expanding elastic around my waist.

"There's a little antique store on Main Street that might interest you," Maggie says. "You might have seen it when you arrived."

"Is that the one beside the museum?" I ask.

"That's the one. I'd recommend the museum as well. My friend Thomas is the curator there."

"We were planning to go there this morning, actually."

"I'll let him know to expect you, and to give you the royal treatment. All the bells and whistles."

"There's no need to go to any trouble just for us," I say.

"It's not a problem, my dear."

As we finish getting ready for the day, my mind turns to the museum and all the history that it must hold. When I first became a single mother, Aislinn and I would spend hours cuddled up on the couch, buttery popcorn in hand, watching different shows. Our favourites were archaeological, digging up ancient items, and then there were the shows about valuations of antiques.

When we arrive at the museum, I take it all in. It's a timepiece itself, with its aging bespoke exterior. Small red bricks form the walls, with windows on either side of the entry like eyes watching passersby. A second storey sits above it, similar in appearance. Between the two levels sits a large, gilded sign, 'Lakeview Hollow Historical Museum'.

Heaving one side of the entry doors open, I usher Aislinn inside, following in her wake. The outside is deceiving, I realise, as I gaze around the vast space full of artifacts and books, with dedicated sections for local history, culture, and legends. As we move further into the room, I smell reminiscent of a library infiltrates the air. Like a combination of paper, leather, and wood.

"Welcome," says an elderly gent, who appears to be in his seventies. He has a round belly and neatly trimmed white beard, wearing a navy-blue suit. "I'm Dr Thomas Smith, curator." He looks us both up and down, then lets out a deep laugh. "You must be Audrey." He gestures his hand towards mine. I shake it.

"Yes, thank you. I'm Audrey, and this is my daughter, Aislinn."

"Excellent," he says, voice booming. "Allow me to take you on the grand tour."

At first, Dr Smith shows us a painting of Lakeview Hollow from more than a century ago, when it was first settled. The setting is beautifully calming with lush meadows and open skies. He beckons us to continue, waving an arm.

We move from section to section, while our guide provides stories of how the town was built, expanding over time, then diminishing as families slowly moved back to the cities for work. I suppose that's a common theme for many small towns. It's unfortunate, and it's hard to imagine that anyone would want to leave this quaint little town with its friendly people, for the cold, harsh construct of the city. Eventually, we complete our tour of the ground floor.

Dr Smith waves us over towards a wooden staircase. We follow him up to the first floor. This level differs considerably from the floor below. The lighting is dim, and walls seem to tower. As we head down the dark hallway, a sense of unease rises within me. I glance over at Aislinn. Does she feel it too? I can't tell in this darkness. But the further we walk, dread pits in my stomach, like someone watching us from the shadows. Dr Smith doesn't appear perturbed, though, so I try to shake it off.

Finally, we stop at the end of the hall. Dim lighting replaces the darkness, though the ambience remains a little creepy – too much for my liking. Shadows appear around the displays like they're trying to keep a secret. A plaque reveals the theme; 'Folklore'.

Our guide moves through the room, sharing stories, one after the other. Aislinn only takes her eyes off him to read the plaques and take in the items that claim to be evidence of the supernatural. My spine tingles, trying to remain composed as my pulse races. He paints a chilling picture of forest entities like Bunyips, Yowies, and ghostly apparitions that haunt the town and forest, and witches casting spells in the depths, hiding in secret. How much truth rests in these tales? I'm not sure. But I know one thing, I don't want to find out.

"Do you believe these stories?" Aislinn asks curiously.

He smiles down at her. "Well, I wouldn't say I believe in every single one, but many have survived the ages. There must be at least some truth behind it. All I can say for certain is that Lakeview Hollow, and the area surrounding it, is special." He gestures to a painting of Lake Eldritch. "That lake was here long before my great grandparents were alive. Folklore or no folklore, it carries a mysterious power within it."

Lost for words, Aislinn stands there, absorbing it all in, and the enormity of what it might mean if even the slightest bit was true.
"We'd better get going if we want to see the antique store this morning," I say to Aislinn, pulling her from her trancelike state.

"Uh, yeah," she mutters.

I turn my attention back to Dr Smith. "Thank you. That was quite the tour. Very memorable."

"You're most welcome. Come back anytime. I've got more secrets in the back." He winks. "Have a good day now, ladies."

More secrets? I can't even imagine what else this town might have up its sleeve. Although one thing is for sure, Aislinn is finally enjoying our weekend away. And that's enough for me right now.

Once we're standing on the footpath in the warm sunshine, the eeriness fades.

"Do you think it's true?" Aislinn asks, furrowing her brows.

What's the right answer? Do I tell her it's all fake to reassure her? Or do I feed her intrigue, since she seems to enjoy it?

"Honestly, sweetheart, I don't know what to believe." Her face falls, and mouth turns down at the edges. "But if Dr Smith thinks there's some truth to it, then maybe there is." She regains her spark. "Perhaps we can return another time and find out more about it." She grins at the suggestion, and I know I've says the right thing to make her happy. Finally.

We only walk a few feet before we're at the antique store. The building is like the museum's twin, with 'Antiques' gilded in gold foil at the front. Through the front pane of glass, we peek inside.

The bell tinkles as we enter the nostalgic haze of old wood and dust. Large pieces like wardrobes, chests, armoires, and grandfather clocks have been carefully arranged around the room, with tables displaying smaller items like jewellery boxes, old dining sets, and teacups. Near the front counter is a large lockable display of necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and old fob watches. For a small rural town, there's certainly a large amount of history here. It's almost unsettling.

As we browse, I trace my fingers over the grooves of a chest. Hand carved details of ivy and roses frame each piece. Cooing over the intricacy, Aislinn does the same.

"This is stunning," she says, in awe.

"Isn't it though?" I reply. "I wish we could buy it all."

She spots an old typewriter, with circular buttons. I can't help but smirk as Aislinn struggles with the keys, complaining about the difficulty compared to her laptop keyboard. As she fidgets with the paper roller, a woman approaches.

"It's exquisite, isn't it?" the woman says. She appears to be in her thirties and wears a name badge saying 'Lucy'.

"Indeed," I agree. "How did you find so many wonderful treasures in this little town?"

"That's a secret," Lucy says. "But in all honesty, this town is one of the oldest in the area. There's a lot of history, and unfortunately, some families have moved over the years and left these diamonds all behind." She gestures around the room at a few larger pieces.

"How could they do that? Aren't they worth a lot of money?"

"I know, it's a real shame," she replies. "Anyway, I'll leave you to browse, but please let me know if there's anything I can help you with. Or if you find a treasure you'd like to buy."

"Will do. Thank you," I reply.

We spend another half hour looking around the store, before Aislinn discovers a large, elaborate vintage mirror. Patches of green patina cover the intricate metal edge, while the glass is tarnished from age.

"It's beautiful," Aislinn says in a whisper.

"Now that is a true antique," Lucy says, reappearing behind us. "It dates to the 1800s. It belonged to a wealthy family in the area. When the last of their line passed away, it went to a distant relative who sold it to us." She pauses briefly then continues; voice lowered as if telling a secret. "I shouldn't tell you this, but they say if you stare into this mirror long enough, you see strange things." She holds Aislinn's stare, then breaks it with a laugh. "Of course, I've never seen anything in it, though. Just an old wives' tale, I suppose."

I raise a single eyebrow. "What sort of things?"

Lucy shrugs. "I've heard different stories, and maybe it's just different for each person. Some say ghosts, others say glimpse of the future, but they all have one thing in common. Whoever stares into that mirror for too long is never the same again."

A chill runs down my spine. You would think with this new knowledge the mirror would be far less appealing, but it only intrigues me further. Aislinn's glance says she's feeling the same way. But our little car would never hold a piece this large, no matter how much either of us want it. Which might just be our saving grace.