“The tower sounds defective,” Matthias said, eyebrows furrowed. “I hear the one in Dover’s been having problems as well. Has anyone else looked into it?”
Danny shook his head. “The Lead’s doing his part, but I’m sure he’s got enough to handle without breaking his back over this, too.”
“Aren’t you worried something might happen to the Enfield tower? You can’t afford another accident. I’m worried about you, Danny Boy. You look tired.”
Danny swallowed. “I probably won’t go back there anyway.”
Again he felt the burning desire to tell someone—anyone—about his encounter with Colton, but the words stuck in his throat. No one can know, he reminded himself firmly.
But Matthias might understand.
“Matthias,” Danny started, “I was wondering if you could tell me what you know about clock spirits.”
The man looked at him sharply. “Why?”
“I just … I was curious.” He lowered his voice. “About … you know. What happened to you.”
Matthias’s tension eased. He looked older than Danny had ever seen him. Danny watched as Matthias closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pulling back the ghosts. “I’m sorry, Danny. I appreciate the thought, but I’m not in the mood.”
“But—”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Please.”
Danny nodded. He should have guessed that would be Matthias’s reaction. It only reaffirmed that Colton was a secret he had to keep to himself, whether he liked it or not. He would have to weave his own lies over the truth until it became unrecognizable. Until it became just another story.
A torturous week passed. Each day felt years long. Danny prowled the house like an anxious tiger in a cage, looking for distraction.
He normally busied himself with reading when he wasn’t working, but every book he picked up he immediately put down again. He found the collection of fairy tales in his bag, stared at it, and stuffed it back in with muttered curses.
He ended up visiting Cassie at the garage. After he paid her the next installment for the boiler, they sat together for a cup of tea. A steam train roared down the nearby tracks, shaking the garage so that the chipped teacups rattled on their saucers.
“Noisy things, aren’t they?” She took a bracing sip. “Auto should be ready by tomorrow.”
“You’re a godsend, Cass.”
She winked. “Don’t tell me what I already know.” Her smile dimmed, and she began fidgeting in her chair. “Danny? There’s a function my mum’s making me go to.”
“Oh?”
“Some ridiculous dance. It’s supposed to be for people our age to, you know, mingle and all that. I don’t want to go, but she’s forcing me.”
If Cassie’s mother made her go, Danny knew his mother would urge him again. Their mothers were good friends, and always hoping their children would marry off. Danny’s recent announcement about his preferences had barely slowed them down.
“You want me to go with you.”
“I’m already planning a way to sneak off,” she said. “I know where it’ll be, and there’s an easy way to slip out if no one’s watching.”
Danny couldn’t help but laugh. “When is it?”
“In a few weeks. Promise you won’t leave poor, defenseless me all alone there.”
He snorted. Cassie, with a wrench in her hand, was anything but defenseless. “Fine, I’ll go with you. But only if you’re sure the escape plan is foolproof.”
“Foolproof,” she agreed. “Thank you, my chuckaboo.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Danny ran a finger around the rim of his cup. He wondered if she would live with him if his mother moved out. But then people would talk, and he would have to convince them that there really were no plans of marriage between them. That might produce an even bigger scandal.
In the end, he couldn’t bring it up. Instead he asked, “How do you think I could get a person to not like me?”
She choked on her tea. “Wassat?”
“If someone fancies you, how do you suppose you could get them to not fancy you?”
“Who’s this, then? The blond boy? You don’t like him?”
Danny shifted in his chair. “It’s not that, exactly. It’s hard to explain.”
“But you’re sure he likes you?” Danny hesitated, then nodded. “And you like him?” Another hesitation, and a less certain nod. “So what’s the problem? Your mum hasn’t been on you about it, has she?”
“No.” He tugged on his shirt cuff, frowning. “I don’t know. It’s odd.”
“Why? Is he into the weird stuff?”
“Cass,” he groaned. She was a bricky girl, he’d give her that.
“What is the weird stuff for blokes, anyway?”
“How should I know? I’ve never …” He sank so low in his seat that his eyes became level with the table.
“Get back up here, Dan. I’m only teasing.” But he stayed put. “Are you sure you fancy him? Sounds to me like you’re confused.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Cassie drummed her fingernails on the table. “I know—bring him to the social. That way, I get to meet him and tell you if he seems all right.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Why not?”