Page 68 of The Clockmaker's Cottage
‘They will remain anonymous.’
There was silence.
‘It’s all very cloak and dagger, isn’t it? I’m oddly flattered to be included.’
This seemed big on a different level. So I signed. My signature was smaller than Arthur’s, but it was there: Andrew Wetherby.
I realised, in that moment, that this wasn’t just another wealthy customer. This was the one they’d been waiting for. The chance to make something that would be talked about in certain circles for years, even if none of us ever admitted it was ours.
‘The project timeline is tight. Just four months. That means the design needs to be finalised and tested, and the mechanism built and cased by then,’ shared Horace.
‘That sounds ambitious, even with our experience,’ Arthur exclaimed.
I agreed.
‘I have every faith,’ said Horace. ‘We are the best team. We head back to London in the morning to make a start. You will be away from home for all of the four months, but it will pay well.’
‘I’ll be here, in the meantime,’ Walter said, breaking into my thoughts. ‘Keeping the regular work moving. Someone has to make sure Mrs Jenkins gets her cuckoo clock back before Christmas, and that the post-office clock doesn’t give up entirely.’
Horace was watching me. ‘I know you flit between London and here, but four months away, will you do it? I know you have a family.’
I wanted in, if this was going to change history, I wanted to be a part of it and I knew Horace needed me more than anyone else at this time, there was even a possibly I could negotiate a higher pay rise than Blake.
Pippa wondered what he meant by that.“Horace needed me more than anyone else.”She carried on reading.
I swallowed. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Of course. I’ll do it.’
I didn’t completely understand what all the fuss was about until I arrived in London.
The commission was intoxicating. Dangerous.
ChapterEighteen
Pippa’s heart was racing. What was dangerous? As she turned the page it was blank, she made a discovery– one that was a huge disappointment. The last chapters of the book were missing. In fact, it had skipped right to the end, when Andrew Wetherby was pleading his innocence.
‘No! Damn!’ she muttered. She flicked through the end pages, skim-reading as fast as she could, but there was nothing further about the intoxicating, dangerous commission.
Just at that moment she heard a phone ring. Next, she heard movement, then Theo’s voice, and even though she knew she absolutely, definitely should not be listening, Pippa found herself doing exactly that, book open in her lap, eyes not moving, ears tilted towards the door like a human satellite dish.
His voice was low and he sounded tired. Pippa knew exactly who it was when Theo said, ‘So you’ve now decided you made a mistake?’
For a moment there was silence until Theo spoke again. ‘Unbelievable. He’s tossed you aside so you want to give our marriage another go.’
It appeared that Clara had suddenly remembered she used to like being married to a decent human being.
Pippa swallowed. She didn’t dare move in case the bed creaked and Theo realised she was listening.
‘Do you really think this is a conversation for this time in the morning?’
Those words surprised Pippa. Was he actually thinking about giving it another go? That certainly hadn’t been a straight ‘No, not a chance, I wouldn’t go back to you even if hell freezes over’.
There was a pause, and when he spoke, it was more quietly.
‘I don’t know…’ His voice caught. ‘I don’t know if we can go back, but yes, I’ll think about it.’
Pippa’s stomach knotted; a sharp, hot twist of something ugly and unwelcome.
Theo sighed. ‘Sebastian. Of all people. You know how he treated me, Clara.’
