Page 35 of The Clockmaker's Cottage
‘You know, as I’ve got older, I’ve thought about this a lot,’ declared Pippa.
‘Thought about what?’
‘I don’t look back on that time fondly,’ she said honestly. ‘And if I could do things differently, I would. Things escalated because you told me what Theo had said about me at that dinner party.’ She glanced sideways, catching the flicker of confusion on Sebastian’s face before he cut in.
‘He went to town on you.’
‘Maybe,’ Pippa replied, ‘but I should have spoken to Theo about it myself. Instead, I let it fester and upset me. I lost confidence without really realising it.’
She paused, then added. ‘Since my mum passed away, everything’s shifted. It gives you a different perspective on life. You stop clinging to old grudges and start wishing you’d handled things with a bit more honesty and a bit less fear.’ She held his gaze.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was rain pattering against the umbrella. Sebastian’s smile faltered, just slightly, before he masked it with his usual swagger. ‘We’ll see,’ he murmured. ‘It’s going to be an interesting afternoon,’ he said before walking away.
‘Sebastian! Don’t…’
A sickening feeling twisted in her stomach when he didn’t turn back.
As she began to walk in the opposite direction, she spotted Theo at the bottom of Lighthouse Lane, standing under the porched doorway of the café with a coffee in hand. He’d been watching them. Damn.
The moment their eyes met, he looked away, and Pippa’s stomach sank a little. Not because she owed Theo an explanation, but because she’d seen something raw in Theo’s eyes that looked like disappointment. She didn’t doubt that Sebastian was here to cause some sort of trouble and, just for a second, she considered dodging the interview. But it was only for a second. She had waited a lifetime to hear Horace Vale speak.
ChapterSeven
Back inside the island’s hall, Pippa was doing her best not to dwell on her awkward run-in with Sebastian, because right now something far more important was about to happen. She’d never thought this moment would come– actually being in the same room as a man she’d been obsessed with since she was a little girl. Other people had boy-band posters Blu Tacked above their beds, but she’d had magazine clippings of Walter and Horace Vale and their most famous timepieces. Nerdy? Absolutely. But she didn’t care. To her, Horace was basically Beyoncé with a stopwatch.
She had half a mind to plonk herself right at the front, but the last thing she wanted was to distract Theo when this was his moment. Instead, she slid into a seat halfway down the room, close enough to see every expression on Horace’s face, but far enough back that she wouldn’t throw Theo off his game.
The room had been utterly transformed. The floor space was now filled with even more folding chairs, and the air buzzed with the sort of anticipation usually reserved for Taylor Swift’s latest album release. On stage, two wingback chairs were angled invitingly towards one another with a small table in between, with a jug of water and glasses. Behind them, a banner stretched across the stage, proudly announcing:Horace Vale: A Lifetime of Timekeeping.
Pippa’s pulse quickened. This wasn’t just her childhood hero about to appear; this was Theo’s, too. This was something they should have bonded over at university instead of constantly butting heads. She spotted Theo hovering by the side of the stage, clutching his notes like a man about to sit his A-levels all over again. She knew he was concentrating, because of that familiar crease between his brows, the one she used to spot across the lecture hall when he was deep in thought. She could see it plain as day: he was nervous.
A small cluster of local journalists had gathered at the back of the room, phones balanced on tripods ready to record. Beside them stood two enormous cameras, each stamped with bold BBC lettering.
Miriam was among the journalists, clutching her lanyard and looking towards the stage.
‘Yes, of course, it’s a huge coup for Puffin Island,’ Miriam was saying brightly to the cluster of journalists. ‘Horace hasn’t set foot on the island for decades and now here he is, back where it all began, after building a reputation as one of the world’s finest clockmakers. And of course, Walter Vale and his wife Agatha were such a huge part of this community for so many years, so naturally there’s a lot of excitement about his brother returning.’ She gave a firm little nod before adding, with the air of a schoolteacher laying down rules, ‘Yes, I’m sure Mr Vale will be very approachable, though please don’t ask him for a selfie. This is a horology festival, not Glastonbury.’
The journalists nodded, fingers twitching over their record buttons like they were about to cover a head of state rather than an elderly man who designed and made watches.
Pippa smiled, then turned her attention back to her phone. She had it open, ready to record the interview, as she didn’t want to miss a word of it. Right at that second, she became aware of movement beside her, and she turned to see that Sebastian had slipped into the empty chair next to hers. She felt herself bristle as he arranged himself in the seat as though he owned not just the chair, but the whole room. His legs stretched comfortably into her space, knees angled far too close to hers.
Sebastian leaned ever so slightly towards her, his voice pitched low. ‘Quite the turnout, isn’t it? You’d think we were waiting for the Rolling Stones.’
Pippa didn’t want to make conversation, but she pasted on her brightest smile to be polite. ‘In my book, Horace Vale is more important than the Rolling Stones.’
Unperturbed, Sebastian draped his arm casually along the back of her chair as though they were on a date. The worst part was that, to anyone glancing their way, they probably looked like they were together. Her stomach was already doing somersaults waiting for the interview to begin, and Sebastian’s proximity wasn’t helping.
Thankfully, as soon as Dr Miriam Bowes stepped up to the microphone, the chatter in the hall instantly melted away. ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ she began, her voice carrying over the rows of packed chairs, ‘I know the weather is somewhat dreary out there, but thank you for joining us for what promises to be not only the most anticipated moment of the Puffin Island Horology Convention, but perhaps the most exciting afternoon the horology world has seen in decades.’
A ripple of excitement buzzed through the room. Chairs creaked as people leaned forward, programmes fluttered, and someone let out a squeak of anticipation.
Miriam let the pause linger for effect. ‘We’re all here today to welcome home Horace Vale– master craftsman, visionary, and one half of the remarkable Vale Brothers, whose work still ticks away in homes across the world and right here on Puffin Island. But before we do, it is my great pleasure to introduce the man who will be leading this very special conversation and needs little introduction in the world of horology. He studied at Cambridge, where his research on early escapement mechanisms earned international recognition. Since then, he has obtained his PhD and become a leading voice in the field, a lecturer and speaker who has shared his passion everywhere from New York to Tokyo. Starting next month, he’ll be travelling the globe to inspire the next generation, proving, once and for all, that clockmaking is not only important… it’s actually very cool.’ A light ripple of laughter moved through the audience. ‘I’m sure we all wish him every success on that adventure.’
Miriam waited for the applause to die down before she continued. ‘His publications are considered essential reading for anyone serious about timekeeping, and there is truly no one better qualified to sit opposite Horace Vale this afternoon.’
Pippa felt something unexpected tighten in her chest: pride. She knew once upon a time they hadn’t seen eye to eye, but it was a well-deserved introduction for Theo and she felt emotional as she swallowed a lump in her throat. She stole a sideways glance at Sebastian, finding that his lips were tight and eyes narrowed ever so slightly, clearly not enjoying the chorus of admiration directed at Theo.
‘Please join me in welcoming Doctor Theo Blake to the stage.’
