“Really, was she a formidable woman?”
“Well, she murdered her own children and my mother. But she was extremely good at baking cakes.”
“Good grief,” cried Obadiah.
“Oh, don’t upset yourself, dear fellow. My strange family hasn’t affected me in the slightest,” and I waved my sword about theatrically.
He didn’t respond, oddly enough.
“So,” I said, “I hear you’re a bit of a star gazer.”
“Yes,” he replied nervously. “You may have read one of my published works on the theory of time travel.”
“Indeed, my father had a keen interest as well. As do I. But I do wonder if humans should be meddling with time at all. Dangerous business, dabbling with the work of the gods.”
“Why shouldn’t we? It is scientific progress. Evolution.”
“At what cost?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean there is always a price to pay, Mr Deadlock. Always. Tell me, have you ever met Death?”
“Met him? Of course not. He’s not a person.”
“Oh yes he is, and I’ve met him. And he’s really someone you don’t want to annoy.”
“I can’t continue this conversation, Mr Loveheart. You are talking nonsense. You are talking in riddles.” And he moved away from me.
The coffin was white and Lady Clarence laid a single red rose on it, weeping into her enormous bosom. The vicar, a tall, gangly-looking fellow with beady yellow eyes stood at the foot of the grave. I was looking forward to this.
“Iths a thad dhay. The death of Elilah Whhithlle hath moved uth all. Deeply.” The vicar’s tongue wobbled about his mouth.
Lady Clarence began to wail.
“I know how she feels,” I said.
“Elithhahh whath a phhainther. A phhalennted indivduhal...”
I could bear it no more and lopped the vicar’s head off with my sword,. It spun into a nearby gravestone, bounced, and then plopped into a hedge.
I then turned to Obadiah and swooshed the sword across his neck, his head dropping neatly into the open grave.
Doctor Cherrytree began to make a run for it – he really was a terrible coward – while Inspector Salt stood in my way. “I am arresting you for murder. Put the sword down, Mr Loveheart. You’re obviously having a little turn.”
“No, inspector, I am not having a little turn. I am, in fact, on a killing spree.” And I chopped his head off too, the blood splattering across myself and Lady Clarence’s face. At least she wasn’t running away – she was made of stronger stuff. She glared at me instead.
“You stupid little man,” she spat. “You’re not going to kill a woman.”
“Actually, I’ve killed several women. And all of them nasty pieces of work, just like you, madam.”
“You’re a devil!” she cried.
“No, I’m not a devil. Merely a man who is fighting for his soul.” I chopped her head off and she sank to her knees. I was covered in blood. I couldn’t distinguish the hearts from the blood. I turned to look for Doctor Cherrytree.
But then I heard Bad Daddy speaking.
“Loveheart.” It was a voice from the deep dark. It was Mr Fingers. He was leaning against a headstone, smiling gently. “My dear boy. Am I interrupting something?”
“No, does it look like I’m busy?”
“Thought I’d pay you a visit. I need to send you on a little errand.”
“Can’t you get your other son to do it?”
“You were always my favourite.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I will gobble you up.” His voice was a black hole in space. And the dead stayed quiet in their graves. “Good boy. Now I have your attention, I need you to go to Whitby. I have found the girl. The girl in the grandfather clock. I need you to bring her here to me.”
July 1888
The Curious Case of Daphne Withers
I was the mistake. I was the ending of the clockmaker. The tickety-tock maker. Little did I know as I was growing up that I would end up in a ladies’ watch, with a topaz butterfly gilt in a display cabinet.
Bit of an odd ending, really.
I was twelve years old, small for my age and plain-featured. I had a gift for playing the piano, so I was told, and no brothers or sisters. On my father’s birthday I had decided to buy him a pocket watch. A very special one. Recently my parents had hosted a dinner party and one of my father’s friends, a Doctor Cherrytree, attended. He had the most beautiful pocket watch. It was silver and engraved with a serpent with ruby eyes. He told me about the clock making shop where he acquired it – and so I decided to find a wonderful gift for my father.
I was wearing a plain white dress, white gloves, and a yellow ribbon in my hair. My hair was very long and the colour of sand. It was the same colour as my grandmother’s. The yellow ribbon was a gift from her. It was made of silk and was so soft to touch.