The hastily packed emergency suitcase was a godsend. At least she wouldn’t be attending the Clockmakers’ Convention in Theo’s old uni T-shirt and lounge pants– or, worse still, her wedding dress!
She pulled on a T-shirt then shimmied into the jeans with a hop and a wiggle that would’ve impressed even her yoga teacher.
Just as Pippa was about to leave the bedroom dressed in Rose’s attire, the pocket watch’s ticking caught her attention. She texted her dad.
The pocket watch you gave me has miraculously started working! It must like the sea air!
Her phone pinged almost immediately, but it was Rose.
How was your first night? Did the Dr stay in his own room?
Pippa fired back a reply without thinking.
He’s off limits. Married and I’m not interested.
Rose responded right away.
Things happen for a reason!
She ignored her friend. Rose was a true romantic, the sort who loved love, who believed people wandered into your life exactly when they were meant to. She didn’t believe in needing time to get over things, or space. Rose believed in following your heart and trusting the universe. Pippa did not. She hadn’t just ended a relationship, she’d run from a wedding, and she was still clearing away the wreckage of that. The last thing she needed wasanythingcomplicated, and Theo Blake was definitely complicated. He had a life that didn’t intersect with hers, a family, and a career that was about to take him to the other side of the world. Even entertaining the idea of him… romantically– even hypothetically, even for a second– felt ridiculous.
It wasn’t temptation she was feeling. It was irritation.
He was infuriating. Arrogant. Permanently convinced he was the cleverest person in the room. And even if he weren’t married, which he very much was, there was nothing to consider. Absolutely nothing.
She stared out of the window at the rain, willing her heart to get the message her head already understood.
Her phone pinged again, this time with a reply from her father.
Really! How bizarre!
Pippa picked up the watch and turned it over, finding that the back of the case was warm. Not just room-temperature warm, but properly warm. She wasn’t sure who the clockmaker was as there was no stamp, no clue, but it was beautiful, delicate, and alive.
‘Are you trying to tell me something?’ she asked.
It didn’t answer, obviously. It just kept ticking. Like it had all the time in the world.
She wanted to go downstairs and show it to Theo, but she knew he would laugh if she asked if he thought it had started ticking because her new life had started the moment she set foot on Puffin Island. Or worse, he’d explain it away with something deeply dull about air pressure or residual mechanical inertia or the position of Jupiter. She popped it into her pocket before bounding downstairs, grabbing her coat from the hook, and pushing her feet into the pair of trainers Rose had loaned her. ‘Right. I’m off to Clemmie’s for breakfast before the convention begins. I’ll see you there.’
‘Are you really going out in that coat? It might be raining but it’s not exactly cold. You’ll melt.’
Pippa looked herself up and down. ‘For a moment there, it sounded like you cared. Anyway, it’s all I’ve got as it was the only thing that would fit over my wedding dress.’
Now Theo was glancing at her footwear. ‘You can’t go out in those either, you’ll be soaked in no time.’
Unfortunately, he was right. Her trainers were half-laced and entirely unfit for a flooding island. ‘Again, it’s all I have,’ she said with a shrug of acceptance. ‘It could be worse, I suppose– I could have travelled in my wedding heels,’ she said. ‘At least this way I’ll make it through the morning without breaking an ankle.’ She paused. ‘Or my dignity.’
‘You’re going to regret that,’ he said, grinning now.
‘I’ll be fine.’
Pippa pulled the front door shut behind her and took one confident step forward… straight into a puddle far deeper than it had any right to be.
‘Oh!’
Cold water surged straight through the canvas of her trainers, soaking her socks instantly. She froze for half a second, then carried on, shoes squelching cheerfully with every step.
By the time Pippa made it to the bottom of Lighthouse Lane, her socks were thoroughly sodden, and water had soaked the cuffs of her jeans, leaving them dark and heavy. She hadn’t dared look back at the cottage window, but she could practically feel Theo watching her with smug amusement, probably topping up his coffee and mentally drafting some dry observation about ‘questionable footwear choices during periods of sustained rainfall’.
