Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
The rain still hadn’t let up. If anything, it was even worse now: heavier, angrier, and coming down in sheets that made the world look smudged.
‘This is meant to be summer!’ Pippa remarked, pulling on her raincoat and slipping her feet back inside the wellington boots.
She huddled against Theo as they left Clockmaker’s Cottage and walked side by side towards Puffin Island Farm, boots splashing through large puddles that seemed to be merging into one huge one.
The entrance appeared through the rain like something out of a countryside walking guide: a stone wall, an old iron gate, and a polite little sign that read ‘Puffin Island Farm Barn Conversions’ with an arrow painted in cheerful blue.
‘Very upmarket,’ Pippa said, pulling her hood tighter around her face to try to keep her hair dry.
They followed the arrow along a newly surfaced road that had clearly been put in for the development.
It curved gently upwards towards the barns, which were built from the original old stone but had been modernised, with angular rooflines added.
There were three altogether, set in a horseshoe shape, decorated with clean, neutral paintwork, big glass windows, and gravel paths that would look lovely in good weather but currently resembled small rivers.
Standing in the middle, braced against the rain with a large black umbrella, was the estate agent. She was in her early forties, with an immaculate bob, a long coat, and an expression of forced optimism that said she was pretending the weather wasn’t ruining her life.
‘Hello!’ she called out, projecting her voice over the wind. ‘You must be Theo and Pippa!’
Pippa waved. ‘Hi!’
The woman waded towards them with remarkable determination given the series of waterways she was forced to navigate along the way. ‘Thank you both for coming out in this … adventurous weather.’
‘Adventurous is one word for it,’ Pippa said, exchanging a look with Theo.
‘I’m Mia,’ the estate agent continued. ‘The causeway being shut is certainly creating chaos, but on the bright side, it means you get an uninterrupted viewing and are the very first to see the space!’
‘I love an exclusive viewing,’ Pippa said cheerfully.
‘You are in a very fortunate position because we expect it will be snapped up quickly, given its history. So, if you do like it, you’ll have to move quickly as we don’t anticipate it staying around for long.
Is this going to be your family home? Any children?
’ she asked. ‘Puffin Island is just the best place to live while raising a young family.’
‘Oh … no … we aren’t together … we’re just…’ stuttered Pippa.
Theo cocked an eyebrow, evidently interested to see what she would say next.
She settled on, ‘We’re friends. Old university buddies.’ She nudged Theo’s arm playfully.
‘Well, maybe you should think about it, as you make a lovely-looking couple,’ replied Mia, laughing politely and motioning towards the first barn. ‘Here we go: The Clock House. Do you know the history of the place?’
‘Yes. We were actually here for the horology convention. Such a shame it was cancelled.’
‘It is, though I believe the one day they had contained more than enough drama.’ Mia looked hard at Theo. ‘I thought I recognised you! You’re the man who interviewed Horace Vale, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, and as you say, it was very eventful,’ replied Theo.
‘Well, welcome to The Clock House! Which one of you is interested in this place?’
‘I am. Both for the history, and possibly as a workshop for me,’ Pippa explained.
‘Horace Vale was here himself this morning.’ Mia pushed open the door, leaving her umbrella propped up just outside as she wiped her feet on the mat.
‘Here, at the barn?’ asked Pippa.
‘Yes, he stayed on the island when the causeway shut.’
This piece of information took Pippa by surprise. ‘I thought he would have left straight after the interview.’
‘He’s staying with his good friend Pete up at Cliff Top Cottage until the storms die down,’ Mia shared. ‘Rumour has it the rain might actually stop by late afternoon tomorrow. You know the last time we had weather like this was St Swithin’s Day—’
‘1965,’ Pippa and Theo chimed in unison.
‘That is correct!’ Mia laughed brightly. ‘You two are certainly very knowledgeable.’
As Pippa stepped across the threshold, she gave a tiny gasp and linked her arm with Theo’s. ‘Look at this place.’
The barn conversion was … stunning.
Open-plan and full of character, it felt like a perfect blend of old bones and modern comfort.
Thick oak beams stretched across the high ceiling, carrying knots and markings that hinted at the barn’s long history.
Skylights ran along the roof, pouring in muted grey daylight that reflected softly off the polished oak floor.
Even in the middle of a storm, the space felt warm and bright.
A log burner sat proudly in the centre of the room on a slate hearth, with a neat stack of chopped wood beside it. It wasn’t lit, but just the sight of it made the room feel homely.
The kitchen sat beneath a mezzanine level, fitted with soft cream cabinetry and a top-of-the-range Aga that gave off the country-living energy Pippa had always secretly dreamed of.
A freestanding vintage-style fridge stood in the corner, the kind she’d once shown Rob in a catalogue, only to receive a blank stare.
A wooden staircase curved gently up to the mezzanine, where there was a small reading nook, complete with a deep window seat piled with cushions, a floor lamp, and shelves fitted along the wall. Even in the storm, Pippa could imagine herself there for hours.
Across the entire opposite wall, bifold doors showcased the most breathtaking view. Through the rain Pippa could see alpacas grazing in the field beyond, their heads bobbing curiously as if watching the weather. Beyond them, in the distance, the faint shimmer of the sea blurred into the horizon.
It was exactly the sort of place where she’d always pictured herself, full of charm, character, and warmth – all the things Rob had dismissed in favour of a sterile new-build apartment.
‘Through there we have three bedrooms, one with an ensuite, and a main family bathroom, and down here’—she pointed to a very small set of stairs—‘is the old clock workshop.’
‘The actual workshop?’
‘Yes, and it’s been made into something very special.’
Pippa and Theo followed her down the stairs, stepping out into a large, beautifully designed office and creative workspace.
The original brick walls had been left exposed, giving it warmth and character.
Amber lighting ran along the ceiling beams, making the whole space glow softly.
One corner held a huge L-shaped sofa, covered in cushions, with a cosy rug underfoot – the kind of inviting space that Pippa could see herself relaxing in after a long day.
But the real centrepiece was the desk. A massive, beautifully worn slab of dark wood sat on sturdy black metal legs, stretching nearly the full width of the room.
It was smooth in places, scarred in others, and impossible to miss.
Mia smiled. ‘This,’ she said, resting a hand lightly on the edge, ‘is made from the original workbench the Vale Brothers used. The developer kept the wood and turned it into a desk for this office space. We thought it would be a lovely nod to the barn’s history.’
It was stunning. Pippa stepped forward, her breath catching a little.
‘No way!’ Up close there were tiny carvings and markings scattered across the surface.
Numbers. Fractions. Ratios. Shallow scratches from tools.
A faint engraved clock face. A tiny ‘W.V.’ etched in the corner and beside it ‘A.B.’ and ‘H.V.’
‘Oh my God,’ Pippa exclaimed. ‘These are … actual working notes.’
Theo joined her, leaning over the desk. ‘This is amazing. What a piece of history. That’s definitely Walter Vale,’ he said softly, tracing a line of carvings with his fingertip. ‘Look … 11?. That’s a balance wheel dimension.’
‘And here,’ Pippa said, touching another series of numbers, ‘that’s a ratio calculation. From early in a build, I think.’
They shuffled along the edge like two excited schoolchildren, studying each carving intimately. Some marks were deep, others faint. One patch looked like someone had slammed a tool down too hard after a mistake. Another had scratch marks where someone had tested a graver or file.
‘Oh!’ Mia said brightly. ‘Of course you’ve probably noticed the clock above the desk.’
Mounted on the wall above them hung a huge decorative clock, four feet across, with a brass frame and a wood-and-glass faceplate.
‘It was made by the Vale Brothers,’ Mia explained. ‘Purely as a display piece. And it’s set permanently to quarter past three.’
‘Why that time?’ asked Pippa, intrigued.
‘It was the moment they completed their very first design together,’ Mia replied with a warm smile. ‘A sentimental detail, but rather lovely.’
Pippa stared at the giant clock, imagining the two brothers finishing their first creation, stepping back from the bench – this bench – as the time clicked to 3.15.
‘What a memento.’
Theo pointed to a small brass hook mounted high on the wall.
‘That’s original,’ Mia confirmed. ‘The barn has kept a few little touches like that.’
‘It’s a tool hook,’ Pippa shared excitedly. ‘Apprentices would have hung their equipment there.’
Before Mia could say anything else, her phone began to ring. ‘Oh, sorry!’ She glanced at the screen. ‘It’s the office. They’re probably drowning in rescheduling viewings with the causeway still shut.’
She gave them both an apologetic smile. ‘Feel free to explore. I’ll just take this quickly.’ She walked to the far end of the room, near the sofa, lifting her voice slightly as she answered the call.
The moment she stepped away, Pippa slid her hand over the carved numbers again.
‘This,’ she whispered, ‘is incredible.’
Theo nodded, eyes shining. ‘I agree. It’s honestly the closest thing to a time capsule we’ll ever find. Everything is still here. Their notes. Their mistakes. Their measurements.’
‘And look…’ Pippa pointed to another engraving, a tiny gear outline someone had carved as a quick sketch. ‘That’s definitely Walter’s style. You can tell from the shaping.’
Theo leaned closer, lowering his voice. ‘They all worked here together. Side by side. You’ve got excitement written all over your face. Are you actually considering buying it?’
‘You know me so well. I mean … this would be the perfect space to restore clocks. The light, the quiet … the history. I’d get so much done down here, and there’s something so special about this island.’
‘What about your father? What about leaving him behind?’
That thought had already crossed Pippa’s mind. ‘Rob’s flat was an hour away from my dad, so it’s not as though he’s just around the corner from me even now, and I think he would love to spend his summers here … when it’s not raining!’ she declared.
Theo turned to her, smiling. ‘This place would suit you.’
‘It really would,’ she said, feeling a little dreamy. ‘I have enough for the deposit and I could secure this place before anyone else gets a chance to view it.’ She looked around and walked to the end of the desk. She felt strangely at home here.
Together they leaned over the carved wood again, quietly buzzing with the thrill of discovery, while Mia’s voice drifted faintly from the far side of the room. ‘He wants it removed? How is it possible he wasn’t aware the slab of wood had been saved?’
Pippa raised her eyebrows at Theo, but Theo wasn’t looking in her direction. ‘Pippa,’ he whispered. ‘Look at this.’
He was staring at the very end of the old workbench-desk.
She stepped beside him. At the edge of the wood, almost hidden in a dip worn smooth over decades, something was scratched into the surface. Rough. Uneven. Done in a hurry.
NOT ME. H.V. 29/07
‘H.V. … Horace Vale? Is that a date?’
Theo didn’t answer straightaway. He leaned closer, running the tip of his finger gently along the letters, as if feeling the angle of each cut. ‘Looks like it.’ Then he nodded slowly, taking a sideward glance towards Mia, who was wrapping up the call.
‘That’s Wetherby’s hand.’
She blinked. ‘How can you tell?’
‘The cuts,’ he said quietly. ‘Wetherby carved his practice plates with the same slanted diagonal strokes. Grandad kept some of them in a workshop box. The angle and the pressure … it’s the same. I’d recognise it anywhere. I was fascinated by them.’
Pippa’s stomach flipped. ‘So you think Andrew Wetherby carved this?’
Theo nodded. ‘It seems like he was trying to tell us something, but what?’
‘Sorry about that,’ Mia interrupted their conversation. ‘That took longer than I thought.’
‘Everything okay?’
‘Yes, we’ve got an influx of people trying to arrange viewings for this place as soon as that causeway opens, and…’ She looked towards the table. ‘Horace Vale apparently wants a section of this table, so if we agree a sale we need to take that into account.’
‘A section of this table? Why would Horace want to cut up this piece of history?’
‘Sentimental value, I suppose. Shall we go through to the bedrooms?’
Pippa nodded, though her brain had skidded off in a completely different direction.
Sentimental value? Or an attempt to hide the truth?
Maybe it meant nothing, but the thought kept nudging her.
Because if Horace and Agatha were wrapped up in whatever Sebastian was suggesting, then Andrew Wetherby hadn’t just been unlucky; he’d been framed on purpose, and that sat uneasily in her stomach.
She cast one last glance at the table, trying to shake the feeling that she was missing something obvious.