Chapter 6
Chapter Six
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.
Pippa turned to see a smiley woman wearing a jumper embroidered with tiny books.
‘Hi,’ Pippa said, stepping inside. ‘What a gorgeous place this is.’
‘Thank you! I’m Amelia. You’re here for the convention, I imagine? The clock-print lanyard gives it away.’
Pippa laughed, touching the ribbon around her neck. ‘Guilty. I’m Pippa and yes, here for all things tick-tock.’
‘Are you the runaway bride?’
‘That I am!’
‘Clemmie mentioned she’d rescued you from the train station. She’s not a gossip, just one of my best friends.’
Pippa shrugged. ‘It’s no secret I arrived in a wedding dress, and if it wasn’t for Clemmie I’d no doubt still be trudging over that causeway.’
‘So are you a clock enthusiast?’
Pippa grinned. ‘I’m a clock restorer.’
‘I believe you’re staying in Clockmaker’s Cottage, is that right? I bet that’s fascinating.’
‘It’s a beautiful cottage but a bit odd. I was greeted by fifty silent clocks and a naked man who’d just got out of the shower. I’m not sure who was more shocked to see who.’
‘Ah, Doctor Theo Blake, the man with the gig this afternoon that will undoubtedly make history. I’ve had quite a few clock enthusiasts pop in already.
Someone asked me if we had an original copy of Time and Its Discontents, and I had to admit we mostly deal in fiction, diaries, and books that make people cry in bathtubs.
But!’ Amelia lifted a finger and pointed to a corner bookshelf.
‘I do have a local history section. There might be something there that interests you.’
Drawn in instantly, Pippa wandered over, brushing her fingertips along the spines. There were collections of island folk tales, books on coastal weather patterns, and then Pippa saw a book with a title that stopped her in her tracks: The Real Inside Story of the Vale Brothers.
The cover was slightly battered, the font delightfully retro.
As she flipped to the back cover she saw there was no publisher as such.
It looked like a self-published book, maybe by a fan of theirs, or someone equally in love with clocks.
She looked at the author’s name – A. Wetherby.
Why was that name familiar to her? She kept hold of the book and walked it to the counter.
‘Ooh, you’ve found something already!’ Amelia said, looking up from a stack of new arrivals.
‘Possibly. A. Wetherby. The name is familiar and I can’t place why … but if it’s about the Vale Brothers, it has to be at least mildly important.’ Pippa placed it on the counter.
Amelia flipped it over and reached for the scanner. The till beeped sharply at her. She tried again. Another beep.
‘Honestly,’ she muttered. ‘I preferred the old till. This one thinks it’s too clever for basic scanning.’ She tapped the screen, frowning. ‘Right, I’ll type it in manually.’
Pippa leaned on the counter as Amelia keyed in the ISBN. The till whirred, thought about it … and flashed a red error box.
‘That’s strange.’ Amelia tried again, more slowly this time. Still nothing.
‘Is it not in your system?’ Pippa asked.
‘Not in my system, not in my supplier lists, not anywhere.’ Amelia turned the book over again. ‘No sticker, no publisher, no stock code. I don’t think it’s actually one of my books.’
‘It was on the shelf,’ offered Pippa.
Amelia looked genuinely puzzled. ‘I’ve never seen this and I definitely didn’t order it.’
Pippa frowned lightly. ‘So how did it end up on your shelf?’
‘No idea,’ Amelia said, still staring at it. ‘It’s a mystery.’
‘Well, I’d still like to buy it.’
‘You can’t. I can’t sell a book that doesn’t exist.’ Amelia pushed it gently back towards her. ‘Take it. Before the till starts swearing at me.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure. If I keep it, it will bother me all day, and I already have three boxes of missing Puffin bookmarks to hunt down and an online order that thinks I live in Kent,’ she shared, rolling her eyes. ‘Please remove the mystery book from my premises.’
Pippa laughed and tucked it into her bag. ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me, thank … whoever “A. Wetherby” is,’ Amelia said. ‘Or possibly question them. Why write a book about the Vale Brothers and then make it impossible to buy? That’s marketing chaos.’
‘Maybe it’s a limited edition?’ Pippa guessed. But something about this felt decidedly odd. Like the book had been waiting to be found.
‘Well, enjoy it, and if it turns out to be worth a fortune or uncovers anything it shouldn’t, I want to know about it. Oh! And enjoy the Horace Vale interview.’
‘Did someone mention Horace Vale?’
The door of the bookshop opened and in walked an old man with a big, welcoming smile. His hair was flecked with grey beneath a tweed flat cap, and a lightweight raincoat hung comfortably from his shoulders.
‘We did. Can you believe after all this time he’s coming back to the island?’
‘I can’t, but it will be good to see him.’
‘You know Horace Vale?’ Pippa was in awe.
‘Let me introduce you,’ Amelia offered. ‘Pippa, this is Pete, known as Puffin Pete to most as he’s in charge of the puffin count. He was once the local vet, and a heart-throb pop star back in his day, and he’s one of the island’s eldest residents.’
‘But still very much young at heart.’ Pete held out his hand.
‘Pippa Bell, clock restorer and runaway bride, but primarily here to witness Horace Vale’s first interview in years.’
Pete raised an eyebrow. ‘Bell. A very fitting name for a clock restorer.’
‘It was just meant to be.’ She gave Pete a firm handshake.
‘I grew up with Horace. It’ll be good to see him as it’s been a while. I was wondering whether he would cancel as the weather is fierce and we’ve just had word from the coastguard that there is a high possibility the causeway will close.’
‘I was thinking the same,’ said Amelia. ‘The visibility is getting worse and the rain isn’t letting up.’
‘What happens if the causeway is closed?’ asked Pippa.
‘You’ll be stranded. There are boats, but no one risks the water in a storm. At least you’ll be okay staying in Clockmaker’s Cottage,’ said Amelia.
‘You’re in Vale’s Cottage?’ asked Pete.
‘I am. There was a competition run by the horology society and Horace Vale, and though I entered at the last moment I got lucky and won the stay. I’ve been obsessed with the Vale Brothers’ work since I was a little girl.’
‘History was made in that cottage. I saw that one of the early pieces they developed there sold for hundreds of thousands in a London auction recently.’
‘I saw that,’ added Pippa. She took her chance. ‘You know Horace, Pete, so… Have you any idea why the brothers’ partnership broke up?’
‘I’ve been asked that question many times over the years, but it’s not for me to speculate or spread rumours. After all, the brothers and Agatha were good friends of mine.’
‘It was worth a try.’ Pippa smiled and reached into her bag.
‘I’ve just bought … well, actually I haven’t, as we don’t know how this book got on the shelf…
’ She placed the book back on the counter.
‘This book. I thought I knew and had read everything written about the Vale Brothers but this is new to me. Are you familiar with an “A. Wetherby”? The name seems familiar.’
Pete glanced at the book, picked it up and turned it over in his hands. ‘Yes, unfortunately I’m familiar with this book. I didn’t realise there were still copies circulating. A. Wetherby is Andrew Wetherby—’
‘Ah! Horace Vale’s apprentice, back in the day,’ supplied Pippa.
Pete hesitated. ‘Andrew Wetherby was charged with stealing from the Vale Brothers.’
Pippa’s eyes widened. ‘Yes, I remember now. He was the disgraced apprentice.’
‘This book was self-published, and I believe the aim was to discredit Horace and Walter. It’s a sort of tell-all book about life working for the brothers. I’ve never read it, on principle. That man wronged my friends.’
‘What did Horace and Walter say about the book?’
‘Neither ever commented on it publicly. They felt that if you don’t fuel the fire, the flames go out, and that’s exactly what happened. This book went unnoticed.’
‘This all sounds very cloak and dagger.’ Pippa’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued as she picked up the book and turned it over in her hands.
‘We don’t know how it got into my shop,’ shared Amelia. ‘It’s not one of mine.’
‘You think someone planted it here on purpose?’ Pippa threw the comment out there.
‘Possibly.’ Amelia looked thoughtful. ‘There’s been a buzz on the island ever since they announced Horace was coming.’