Page 30 of The Clockmaker's Cottage
‘I just need to successfully get through this interview, and then I’m going to chill for the rest of the weekend. Do you have the time on you?’ He grinned. ‘I know we’re surrounded by clocks, but I’ve left my phone at the cottage and forgot to put my watch on.’
‘And you call yourself a doctor of horology!’ Pippa went to pull out the pocket watch but remembered it had stopped working, so she pulled her phone from her bag instead and glanced at the screen. ‘It’s time the convention started.’ She pointed towards the stage, where she could see movement.
‘I have to go. I’m sitting at the front.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘Please don’t let him do anything daft.’ He nodded towards Sebastian.
Pippa held up her hands. ‘He’s nothing to do with me. I’m here for me and me alone. All we can do is hope that Sebastian will be hanging on to Horace’s every word just like the rest of us.’
‘I really don’t want Sebastian spoiling it, or trying to goad me into a debate and attempting to make me look like a fool.’
Pippa nudged his arm. ‘You’re not a fool.’
He arched an eyebrow. ‘You used to think so. I thought you considered me a walking ego with decent hair and a superiority complex.’
‘Well,’ she said, cracking a smile, ‘your hairisstill excellent.’
He grinned. ‘High praise from someone who once threw an empty water bottle at me in a lecture.’
‘You were being insufferable.’
‘I was right, though.’
‘Ugh,’ she muttered, grinning. ‘There’s the Theo Blake I remember.’
They both laughed; quietly, gently. It felt oddly intimate, sharing this little moment before the convention began.
From across the room, Pippa noticed that Sebastian had taken a seat but was watching them with interest, his expression unreadable.
Pippa leaned in a little. ‘Well, if it makes you feel better, I definitely prefer you to him.’
Theo glanced at her sideways. ‘Is that a low bar or a real compliment?’
‘Take what you can get, doctor. Now, you’d best take your seat.’
Pippa sat down on a nearby vacant chair and glanced towards the tall windows. Outside, rain slid steadily down the glass, the harbour beyond blurred into soft grey shapes. Inside, the registration line had dwindled to a few stragglers shaking off damp coats and wringing out umbrellas. At the front of the room, the convention chair, Dr Miriam Bowes, clutched the microphone with all the gusto of a cruise-ship host and boomed, ‘Time waits for no man, but today, Puffin Island is waiting for you!’
Everyone greeted her with a round of applause.
‘Welcome!’
As Miriam outlined the weekend’s programme with mentions of workshops, lectures, exhibits, and, of course, the much-anticipated interview with the elusive Horace Vale, a hum of anticipation buzzed through the room like an orchestra tuning up before a performance. Pippa glanced sideways just in time to see Sebastian lean to one side in his seat and slip a folded piece of paper into the hands of one of the journalists.
What was all that about? She hoped he wasn’t trying to set up Theo in any way, because she would struggle to convince Theo it had had nothing to do with her.
She turned back to Miriam, who was now cheerfully outlining tomorrow afternoon’s ‘Hands-on Horology’ session. The workshop where complete beginners could learn to take apart a clock, Miriam explained, would be held right here in the village hall, with tea and homemade flapjacks provided.
Miriam then launched into a description of the weekend clock market at Puffin Island Lighthouse: a cosy maze of ticking treasures and polished brass beauties, with stalls selling everything from delicate carriage clocks to mysterious little boxes of cogs and springs. It all sounded very local-festival-for-enthusiastic-tinkerers, and Pippa couldn’t resist a smile. There was something comforting about the idea of it, like a church fête, only with more mainsprings and fewer Victoria sponges.
But while Pippa was listening to Miriam, her thoughts were firmly fixed on Sebastian and what he might be up to. When Theo looked over his shoulder and gave her a smile, she smiled back, but her heart was pounding as she took another glance in Sebastian’s direction and saw the journalist giving Sebastian a discreet nod. Pippa couldn’t fight the feeling that this afternoon was ticking towards something much bigger than clocks, and she worried she was somehow going to be right in the middle of it.
ChapterSix
After the ‘Art of Timekeeping’ panel, which had involved a great deal of chin-stroking and earnest discussion of escapements and torque, the crowd began to disperse for lunch. Pippa didn’t want to appear rude by choosing either Theo or Sebastian to tag along with, and now that she finally had dry socks and boots on her feet, courtesy of Clemmie, she planned to make the most of Puffin Island for the next hour, weather notwithstanding.
Pulling up the hood of her coat, she took the coastal path in front of the bay. Rain misted in from the sea, the water a shifting grey-blue under the low cloud. The beach glistened, darkened by rain, and a trio of children were enthusiastically stomping through puddles near the shoreline, shrieking with laughter as a dog bounded around them, thoroughly delighted by the chaos.
Pippa turned onto Lighthouse Lane, passing The Café on the Coast, and paused outside The Story Shop, a pretty little bookshop with a hand-lettered sign and a string of fairy lights glowing warmly around the window despite the gloomy afternoon. A bell jingled above her head as she stepped inside, and as she lowered her hood she took in the overflowing shelves of novels and vintage prints. Curled up on the counter beside a display of Puffin bookmarks was a sleepy-looking tabby cat, barely lifting an eyelid at her arrival.
‘Oh, hello!’ came a voice from behind the counter.
