Chapter 8 #3
“In the meantime, he tries to seduce you with food.” Her mother had begun to go through the basket.
“I think he felt badly that I had to sit on the back of the coach in the rainstorm.”
Her mother made a sound of agreement Tamsin took to mean Kildare should have felt badly for that.
“Six pies!” her mother exclaimed. “I’ve never seen such bounty!”
“Give half to Big John for having us.” She lowered her voice in case he was listening on the other side of the door. “And for the extra coal. We can split the other three.”
Tamsin didn’t know how she could still be hungry after she’d been fed at every house, but something about eating several meals over the course of these last couple of days had roused her appetite.
She’d suppressed it so long it had gone dormant.
But now she was hungrier and hungrier the more she ate.
Still, her mother had eaten hardly anything. She fully intended to pretend to split the three pies and make certain her mother ate at least two of them.
“He’s minding the front of the shop. I’ll bring them out to him. You put on a dress, and we can eat ours back here.”
Tamsin dressed then made space on the cluttered table for the pies.
She put the rest of the food on the shelves near the stove.
She could try and ration the apples, bread, and vegetables over the next week or so.
She sat at the table and waited for her mother to return, but when her mother didn’t come, she rose and opened the door to the shop a crack.
She peered through the opening she made and saw her mother standing opposite Big John, who was seated in a chair behind a long counter on which there was a display of watches and jewelry.
Big John held a spoon and was saying something.
Then he dug his spoon into the pie and offered the bite to her mother.
Tamsin frowned. Surely, her mother would refuse. She had her own pies back here.
But to Tamsin’s shock, her mother leaned forward, opened her mouth, and ate the offered spoonful.
Tamsin’s gaze cut to Big John just in time to see the way his eyes lingered on her mother’s face, obviously enjoying the pleasure she took from the still-warm, savory food.
Quietly, Tamsin closed the door and reached for the back of one of the chairs.
She had to sit down since her legs were shaking so badly.
Now it all made sense. She’d never really thought about why Big John had been so kind to her, buying all the items she brought him, even though after the first few things she’d pawned, he must have known the rest were stolen.
Tamsin had supposed he felt sorry for her or viewed her as a charity project.
She’d also known he respected her mother and most likely found her attractive. She’d used that knowledge to her advantage when they’d been dismissed from Brown’s service. But she hadn’t thought there was any more to Big John’s feelings than admiration of a handsome woman.
Now she saw she’d been wrong. He was in love with her mother.
And her mother—was she in love with Big John?
She must have felt something for the man or she wouldn’t have allowed him to feed her.
Tamsin didn’t quite know how to feel. It wasn’t as though the idea of her mother with a man was foreign.
She’d been thirteen when her mother had married her stepfather, and that was old enough to understand what it meant when she heard the occasional moan or low laughter from their bedchamber late at night.
It was just that she had thought her mother was done with men and marriage.
And she’d never given any indication that she cared at all about Big John.
The door opened, and Tamsin pretended to be arranging the pies on the table.
“You waited for me? You should have started eating,” her mother said.
Tamsin looked at her, really looked at her. Her brown hair was still thin and straggly, her frame far too thin, but her cheeks were pink and her blue eyes had life in them. Tamsin hadn’t been mistaken about what she’d seen. “I didn’t mind waiting.”
Her mother sat in the other chair, and they both began eating. Tamsin made sure to take small spoonfuls, wanting her mother to eat most of the meal. When they’d finished the first pie and begun on the second, Tamsin said, “I never thought Big John would allow us to stay this long.”
“Neither did I.”
“Perhaps we should plan to leave soon. I know you don’t want to feel obligated to him.” She watched her mother from under her lashes.
The spoon moving to her mother’s lips slowed and almost stopped.
Tamsin could almost see her mother considering the option of leaving the pawnshop.
“I think we might stay a little longer without feeling too much like charity cases. After all, we’ve worked for our board.
The shop has never been so clean, and now you’ve brought a very hearty dinner and more besides. ”
“In a few more days, there will be nothing left to dust or mop or wash. What then?”
Her mother gestured to the table. “We still need to do something about all this clutter. John mentioned you had been trying to untangle the necklaces.”
John? Oh, he was John now, was he?
“I only made things worse.” Tamsin reached for the caterpillar, which she’d been eyeing all through the meal. “I’d rather work on this automaton. If we can find out how to make it work again, we can sell it to Maillardet. That sale will bring in a decent sum.”
“I wouldn’t have the first idea how to begin,” her mother said.
“Nor I, but I did something earlier and it moved slightly. Perhaps if I remove this plate here”—she managed to dislodge the metal plate and expose the mechanical innards—“see all of these innards?”
“It looks hopelessly confusing to me.”
A tap sounded on the door as Big John peeked his head in. “I wanted to step out for a bit. Mary, can ye watch the front o’ the shop?”
Mary? Oh, this was more serious than Tamsin had thought.
“When ye’ve finished eating, of course.” Big John smiled at her mother.
“I’m done.”
Tamsin grasped her mother’s wrist before she could abandon her food and do Big John’s bidding. “Mama, finish eating. Big John is in no hurry, are you?” She gave the big man a look.
“No ’urry,” he agreed. “Wot did ye do to the caterpillar?”
“I just took off this plate to look inside. But I have no idea what I’m looking at.”
“I’ll show ye,” Big John said. “These machines are simple really. Ye see these round metal plates? They’re called cams.”
Tamsin eyed the several cams inside the body of the caterpillar. They were round in general shape, but their edges were cut into odd shapes; some of the edges ended up being rather sharp. “What’s this called?” she asked, pointing to the piece that ran through a hole in the middle of the cams.
“The shaft. When ye turn this crank, it winds up the shaft and turns the cams. The edges raise and lower these ’ere levers, and that’s what makes the feet and the body move.”
Tamsin could see it now. The science behind the caterpillar was both very simple and immensely complex.
How had the maker known how to shape the cams so they would move the legs and the body in just the right way?
Not only did the rotation of the cams need to raise and lower the levers, it needed to do so in such a way that the caterpillar would actually walk.
She looked up at the pawnbroker. “If you understand it so well, why haven’t you fixed it?”
He held out his hands. “My fingers are too big.”
Tamsin could see this immediately. Big John had large hands and fingers the size of sausages.
Even if he had tried to use a tool to fix whatever ailed the caterpillar, his massive hands would have blocked his view of the small, delicate machine.
She eyed the automaton again. “Maybe I could fix it.” She hunched her shoulders defensively, expecting Big John to laugh at this.
“I think ye could. Can’t ’urt to try. If ye fix it and Maillardet buys it, I’ll split the profit with ye.”
Tamsin looked from him to the caterpillar. “How much do you think that would be?”
Big John looked up, his forehead scrunched.
“Oh, ’alf a pound each, I wager.” He rubbed his chin.
“Maybe more. All them jewels are paste, but even broken, them cams and levers are worth something.” He reached for a cloth on one of the highest shelves against the wall.
Tamsin would have had to stand on a chair, and she still wouldn’t have been able to reach it.
He set the cloth on the table. “These tools might be o’ use.
Lock-picking tools a reformed rogue sold me. Good for tinkering.”
“Thank you.” Tamsin unwrapped them and studied the picks and files. Half a pound, she thought. It wouldn’t go far to free her brother and sister, but she and her mother could get a room for that and something to eat.
“You go ahead and work, Tamsin. I’ll be out front.”
Big John followed her mother through the door into the shop. Tamsin could hear him speaking about what to pay and what to charge for this and that.
“I know, John. I’ve watched you. If anything unusual or special comes in, I’ll send Tamsin for you.”
Tamsin moved one of the caterpillar’s feet and watched how the cams and levers inside reacted.
She used one of the picks to clean off some dirt and rust and tried again.
The movement of the automaton seemed smoother.
She’d start by cleaning all the caterpillar’s parts.
For as long as she’d been coming here, which was about eighteen months, the caterpillar had been on this table.
No doubt dust and grime were clogging the machine’s innards.
Maybe once she took a look at each of the automaton’s parts, she’d see what the problem was.
She began removing the cams and levers, wiping each with a clean rag.
By the time Big John returned, she had all the parts lying on the table, where they gleamed.
“I think I see the problem,” she said, lifting a piece from the spread.
“This lever has a crack. When the cam runs against it, the edge gets stuck in the crack.”
Big John peered closer. “That crack don’t look big enough to cause a problem.”
But by now Tamsin had examined each piece so closely, she felt she knew them. “The way the pieces work together is delicate. If even one part is not in place, the machine won’t work properly.”
“Ye can ’ave a blacksmith look at the piece. Maybe ’e can fix it or fashion another.”
Tamsin nodded. Where would she find the coin to pay a blacksmith to fix the lever?
“But ye ’ave an even bigger problem.”
“What’s that?”
“ ’Ow will ye put all of these parts back in the right spots?”
Tamsin stared at the assortment of parts. That half a pound was moving further and further out of reach.