Page 83 of The Clockmaker's Cottage
‘That’s exactly what I’m thinking. My grandfather must know something about this. Why else would he be so wary of talking about it?’
‘Your grandfather might not have been able to do anything about it,’ Pippa said quietly.
‘He could have come forward. If he did know… he helped frame Wetherby.’
Pippa nodded. ‘You’re right. But if it was only removed in the short term… where the hell is this watch now?’ Her mind was spinning. ‘What if it’s hidden somewhere in The Clock House? The barn that’s just gone up for sale?’
Theo shook his head. ‘I doubt it. The place would’ve been gutted and rebuilt. Anything left behind would be long gone.’
Pippa pulled out her phone anyway. She opened the Rightmove app, scrolling with quick, determined taps. ‘This has got to tie into the feud somehow. It’s a hell of a lot of money to just vanish. With stakes that high, it could explain why the brothers fell out. Money does strange things to people.’
Theo didn’t disagree.
‘One thing wedoknow,’ Pippa continued, ‘if this is anything to go by, is that Wetherby didn’t steal that watch. So why was he made the scapegoat? What exactly were they trying to cover up?’
‘Who are you calling?’ Theo asked as she started dialling.
Before she could answer, a voice came through.
‘Hello, how can I help?’
‘Hi,’ Pippa said brightly. ‘I’d like to arrange a viewing of one of your properties– The Clock House, the barn conversion on Puffin Island.’
‘I’m afraid we can’t offer viewings at the moment,’ the agent replied. ‘The causeway’s flooded and there’s no way onto the island.’
‘We’re already on the island,’ Pippa said.
A brief pause. ‘Oh! Well, in that case…’
Two minutes later, they had a viewing booked for the following morning.
ChapterTwenty-One
The rain was still going for it, hammering down so loudly it practically joined in the conversation. Pippa couldn’t remember ever hearing weather this dramatic. It sounded like someone outside was throwing buckets of water at the cottage just to see what would happen. But she was tucked under Theo’s duvet, warm alongside him, feeling cosy and relaxed. They’d only climbed into his bed a few minutes earlier, and her smile kept sneaking back every time she replayed the evening in her head.
They’d spent most of the night downstairs, curled up on the sofa watching an old documentary on clock restoration, one Theo claimed was ‘a classic’, although the narrator sounded like he was on the verge of a nap. Still, Pippa had never been so comfortable. They’d sat on the sofa, Theo’s arm casually draped around her shoulders, her legs sprawled across his, and she’d felt something she hadn’t felt in years… At home.
They’d talked about escapements and enamel dials, about the differences between French and English mechanisms, and Pippa couldn’t stop the warm, fizzy feeling spreading through her. Rob would’ve died of boredom ten minutes in. He’d never once sat beside her watching something she loved. And Theo didn’t just watch; he also had opinions. It went down instantly as one of the best nights she’d had in a very long time.
When they finally climbed the stairs together, Pippa had nudged him and joked, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t turn right,’ echoing what he’d said the night she first arrived at the cottage.
Theo had grinned, rolled his eyes, and muttered, ‘Shut up,’ before kissing her on the landing; soft, unexpected, perfect. For a second, she’d genuinely thought she’d stumbled into an actual romcom.
Then he’d opened his bedroom door and said, with an amused half-smile, ‘You’re more than welcome to turn right. Are you coming?’
Pippa had no intention of turning down that invitation. After brushing her teeth, she’d returned to his room in his university T-shirt and her lounge pants. Now she lay under his duvet, pressed comfortably against him, his hand resting at her waist like it had always belonged exactly there.
Theo shifted slightly, pulling her a fraction closer, as the rain battered at the window even more, the sound mingled with fifty clocks ticking throughout the cottage, which was strangely comforting.
‘I’ve had a good night,’ he murmured, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head.
‘Me too. We are such nerds, watching clock documentaries.’ She laughed softly.
Theo’s phone buzzed on the bedside table. They both glanced at it. Pippa could tell by Theo’s face that it was Clara again.
He reached over, picked up the phone, looked at the screen for less than a second… and then switched it off completely.
‘No more,’ he murmured.
