Page 38 of The Clockmaker's Cottage
The crowd laughed, and Pippa could see why this man had a beautiful relationship with time, not just as a science, but because it satisfied his need for order in chaos.
Horace’s voice softened. ‘That clock was the start of our story, and as soon as we left school, we decided that was exactly what we were going to do. Truth be told, we had a handful of options: become fishermen like our father, take turns behind the counter at the post office, lend a hand on Agatha’s family farm… or pretend we knew everything about clocks.’
Everyone was listening intently.
‘Our fate, as it turned out, was sealed one stormy night. I had just returned from university, which was a very different experience than it is today. Back then, it was mostly reserved for the privileged. My parents had sacrificed everything to send me: my father worked long, gruelling hours as a fisherman, and my mother ran the post office from dawn till dusk, often giving up her own rest just to make ends meet. They couldn’t have afforded to send both me and Walter, but luckily Walter was a homebird, and he had no desire to leave the island. Instead he worked on the farm, fixing everything mechanical.
‘The storm was so fierce it rattled the windows clean out of their frames. Lightning struck the island’s clock tower– the very one everyone depended on to know the tides, or when the causeway was safe, or even when to get the bread in the oven. Suddenly, the heartbeat of the island was silent.’
The audience, too, was silent.
‘I volunteered us– Walter and me– to put it right. Walter wasn’t entirely thrilled by my bravery on his behalf, but he came all the same. We worked through the night, the rain pouring through the broken roof, our lanterns flickering with every gust. I remember thinking, “If the tower doesn’t fall on us, Mother will, when she realises we’ve ruined our boots and coats.” But somehow, by morning, we’d coaxed that old clock back to life. Its first chime after the storm… Ah, it felt like the whole island was breathing again.’
He paused, smiling fondly.
‘After that, people stopped asking if we wanted to be fishermen or postmasters. We had our answer. We hired out the draughty old barn from Agatha’s father, moved in a workbench and some second-hand tools, and began designing and making clocks and watches. Our name– the Vale Brothers– started to spread, and soon my mother was persuaded to shift the post office across the harbour so we could turn her front room into our first official shop. She complained for years that she now had to walk to work instead of just walking down the stairs, but she was secretly proud.’
Theo asked a question everyone was waiting to hear the answer to. ‘Can you tell us a little about your partnership with Walter?’
Horace gave a brief nod, but Pippa noticed the way his fingers tightened on the arm of his chair. ‘We worked together on inventions, new pieces. Walter was content with the work,’ he began, his voice softer now. ‘He wanted to be hands-on, turning screws, filing springs, fitting cases with his own two hands. I, well… I was the business design brain. We complemented each other beautifully for a long time… until we didn’t.’
The room hushed, leaning in to find out the secret behind the Vale Brothers’ split.
‘We had different ways of doing things,’ Horace admitted. ‘I wanted scale. Mass production. London was calling, streets lined with jewellers, money changing hands faster than you could wind a mainspring. To me, that was progress. Opportunity. A future we could build on.’
He glanced down briefly. ‘But Walter… Walter had Agatha, and he had Puffin Island, and this place was in his veins. He didn’t want change. He didn’t need it. His happiness was right there in the cottage, in the barn, in every clock he could make polish until it gleamed. And I… I couldn’t blame him. Not really.’
A faint sigh rippled through the hall.
‘But I felt…’ Horace hesitated, the words catching. ‘I felt that if we wanted the business to keep moving forward, we both needed to be in the capital. I went, and once I did, it became harder and harder to bridge the gap. Designs and instruction manuscripts being sent between the two of us don’t keep time the way a pendulum does. Weeks would slip by. Walter was all right with things as they were, but I… I wanted more.’
Pippa’s heart gave a strange twist. She’d expected some dramatic feud, a shouting match, maybe even betrayal. But no. It wasn’t scandal that had pulled the Vale Brothers apart, it was something far more ordinary and, in some ways, sadder. They were simply two men who had once built their world side by side, and then found themselves with different maps– one chasing opportunity in the city, the other rooted firmly in the community of Puffin Island. It was the kind of story that felt almost romantic in its simplicity. No villains. No thieves in the night. Just life pulling them in opposite directions.
Up on the stage, Theo leaned in. His voice was careful, respectful, but edged with curiosity. ‘So the split was over… creative differences?’
Horace gave a single, measured nod. ‘That’s all it was,’ he said quietly. ‘Nothing more.’
Before Theo could respond, a scraping noise cut through the air.
Sebastian was now sitting up straight in his chair, looking angry. ‘That’s not quite true though, is it?’ he said loudly.
All heads turned in their direction.
Horace squinted, his eyes settling on Sebastian. ‘Excuse me?’
Sebastian stood, dramatic as ever, his voice booming like he was auditioning for a West End revival. ‘You blamed an innocent man for your own indiscretions, which led him to be an outcast for the rest of his life, and Walter didn’t agree with how you handled things. Wasn’t that the real reason the partnership broke down? You pinned that evidence on him, knowing he was keeping the biggest secret of all for you. You just wanted him silenced. You made him the scapegoat. You should be ashamed!’
Pippa felt her heart begin to race. What innocent man? What secret?
The eyes of the crowd darted between Sebastian and the stage, moving back and forth as if at a frenzied tennis match. Pippa spotted the journalist, the same one Sebastian had slipped that note to that morning, filming everything on his phone. Her stomach churned and her pulse ramped up as she caught Theo’s gaze. He looked stunned.
‘This is your chance to tell the truth. To hold your hands up and take accountability,’ Sebastian continued. ‘You know what you did.’
Gasps erupted like fireworks through the hall and Horace’s face flushed bright red. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
Theo stepped in, taking control. ‘Sebastian, that’s enough. I think it’s best if you leave.’
But Sebastian wasn’t finished. ‘Tell everyone your secret, Horace Vale. Tell everyone what you really are.’
