Page 101 of The Clockmaker's Cottage
Instead, Horace slowly reached out and shut the car door before leaning down to the driver’s window. He spoke quietly and the driver nodded before pulling away down the clifftop track.
Horace gestured towards the cottage. ‘Is this okay with you, Pete?’
Pete nodded.
‘Let’s hear what you think you know,’ said Horace as they followed him inside.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Once inside the cottage, Pippa fell in love straightaway. The place was full of charm, warm and inviting.
‘Take a seat,’ offered Pete. ‘I’ll make some tea.’
Pippa and Theo sat on the settee, while Horace lowered himself into the armchair opposite them. His expression was unreadable.
Pete disappeared through a door and the clatter of china could be heard, followed by the whistle of a kettle. Pippa’s eyes were drawn to an old dresser in the corner of the room that was rammed with books and framed snapshots of life. Pippa recognised a much younger Pete in several of them, pictured with guitars, amplifiers, pub stages, long hair, loud shirts. A portrait of a strikingly beautiful young woman stood at the front of the collection.
Horace hadn’t said a word since Pete left the room, which caused an awkward tension, so Pippa was relieved when Pete reappeared. Wanting to keep the conversation light and start things gently, she said to Pete, ‘Great photographs! I heard you played in a famous band back in the day?’
Pete smiled, placing the tray down on the coffee table. ‘Yes, back before I got myself a proper job as the island’s vet.’
‘I didn’t think much of your band name,’ cut in Horace, smiling up at Pete as he poured the tea.
Pete laughed. ‘Why not? “The Men from Puffin Island”. It did what it said on the tin.’
‘She’s such a beautiful woman.’ Pippa nodded towards the central photograph.
Pete picked up the frame and looked fondly at the image. ‘Hetty. She’s sadly no longer with us. The only woman I ever wrote a song for.’
Pippa noticed his eyes glistened with unshed tears as he replaced the photograph.
‘I’ll leave you all to talk,’ Pete said as he put a plate of biscuits in the middle of the table.
‘Stay,’ Horace insisted. Pete stopped. ‘You’re one of my oldest friends. I’ve got nothing to hide from you.’
Pete nodded and lowered himself into the armchair opposite Horace.
Pippa could feel her heart racing. She didn’t know how Theo was going to begin the conversation, or in what direction this was about to go.
Horace leaned back slightly in his chair. His hands were clasped loosely in his lap, but Pippa didn’t miss the faint tap of his thumb against his fingers, the only sign he was more uneasy than he let on.
‘It seems,’ Horace said, looking between them, ‘that you’ve got questions because of your friend Sebastian.’
‘Sebastian is no friend of ours,’ they chorused in unison, then looked at each other.
‘However…’ Theo carried on.
‘Before you jump to conclusions, let me be clear…’ Horace paused. ‘Andrew Wetherby is no longer with us. Whatever you think you know has most probably been blown out of proportion. Everyone loves the idea that there was some sordid scandal, but it’s simply not true.’
Before anyone could reply, there was a knock at the front door.
Horace turned to Pete. ‘Are you expecting anyone?’
Pete shook his head. ‘No.’ He stood, crossed the small living room, and opened the front door. Through the crack, Pippa could see a man standing there.
They listened as a voice came from the other side of the doorway.
‘Is Horace still here? I’ve got the press hounding me. Someone has dug too far and leaked a memo about the commission. They know what it is. It’s about to appear all over the press.’
