“Anyway,” Dorothea set down her bag. “It’s time this fellow received some attention. And I think a good cleaning is the best place to start. If you’d hand me those cloths...”
“You’re going to...” He frowned. “Wait...”
“For what? Time is passing.” She nodded out at the Forge. “You can hear it, Silas, with every mechanical tick and tock. So give me the cloths and then go away and do Forge-Marshal things. I’ll be more than fine here—as happy as a boiler at full steam.”
Ignoring him, she began to clean off the top of the Mistletoe machine, revealing some of the brilliant red paint that originally must have made it shine as bright as the fire in the Forge.
“I’ll come back in a bit, shall I?” Silas sounded uncertain.
“That would be lovely.”
“Well...if you’ll be all right.” He hesitated. “I’ll be off then.”
Bent over the machine, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, Silas. Go away.”
He went, but his sigh was loud enough to be heard, and made her chuckle as she unfastened her first cam-latch.
*~~*~~*
While Dorothea began her investigations with excited enthusiasm, Lyra Sinclair was trying to accustom herself to having nothing to do but spend time with Gen.
Her daughter was, of course, ecstatic with her Mama, Nelson, Thim, and just about everything she saw and touched. She had told her mother in great detail how Miss Thea had found her and helped her, and how Thim had become her friend right away. And this recital was repeated more than once.
Lyra didn’t mind. It was one of the first times in recent memory that she and her child could relax in warm andsafe surroundings. While Gen simply enjoyed herself, Lyra discovered the profound comfort of being safe.
“I would be happy to prepare a larger breakfast for you, Mrs Sinclair. It seems like you and Gen have barely touched your food.”
Nelson’s voice was calm and almost gentle, and Lyra found herself responding, forgetting she was speaking to a tickerkin.
“Thank you, Nelson. But this was a lovely breakfast and indeed far more than either of us is used to. And having a cup of tea with it? Well, we’re closing in on the height of luxury.” She glanced across the room. “As you can see, Gen is happy as a spark in a tinderbox, and fortunately Thim seems to have endless patience with her.”
“Indeed,” agreed Nelson. “And might I add that it is a lovely thing to see? Tickerkins are not always greeted with smiles and delight. Thim is the perfect example of how badly we can be treated, and yet it’s also revealing how resilient we can be in the right circumstances.”
“The same might be said of people too,” she mused, watching her daughter and completely missing the lights that flickered behind Nelson’s eyes.
“I’m sure you’re right,” he answered.
“Well, that tea was delicious, I have to admit. It’s been a while since I’ve tasted the genuine article.” She rose from the table and began to gather the dishes.
“Er...Mrs Sinclair,” Nelson cleared his throat. “That is my job.”
“Not today, it’s not,” she laughed. “Today, as my way of thanking you for your care, Nelson, today I shall be clearing the table and doing the dishes.”
“But...”
“Please? Allow me the chance to repay the hospitality you’re offering us?”
“Well then,” his circuits whirred. “That will be acceptable. Thank you. I will show you to the kitchen.”
Following him slowly along the passageway, pushing the tea trolley, Lyra couldn’t help but marvel at the house, if you could call it that. There were some open doors, showing either bedrooms or what looked like an office of sorts, and one larger room with a round table in it and books all over the walls.
She couldn’t help it, she had to pause. “Oh my. Nelson. This is a library?”
He stopped and turned. “It is indeed. And one that is sadly in need of organisation.” He relieved her of the trolley and passed her the cane she’d hooked over one edge. She barely noticed as her gaze remained glued to the sight of so many bookshelves in one place.
“Why don’t you go in?”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t...” she began.
