The Gadget: The Rondon Chronicles Book One

by V. J. Timlin

  With the hefty paycheck in Nat’s hand, he offered Anouk her share. She refused.

  “I’ll be going back. That was our deal, remember?”

  Nat’s expression was unreadable when he nodded. “Yes, that was the deal.” Then he flashed his charming smile. “Hate to lose you. You’ve been a good partner.”

  “Really?” Anouk’s eyebrow flew up. “All I’ve been doing is fearing a lot and running behind you. Alright, maybe I saved your skin a few times… and killed Stalo.”

  Yes. She—not Nat—had killed Stalo. Although Stalo had been a sadistic murderer, and would have killed her and Nat without hesitation, Anouk couldn’t quite come to terms with cutting him in half with her katana. The memory of his mutilated body on the factory floor made her stomach twist. She gripped the windowsill and took a deep breath, forcing the churning sensation to calm down. She hadn’t had a choice, if she wanted to live… and that is what she wanted.

  Without saying anything, Anouk had handed her katana to Nat. There was just too much blood on the blade for her to keep it. Nat had taken her sword and said, “Understood.”

  Anouk’s heart ached. That was it. Nat did understand her, and she missed him so much it hurt. They had been partners and friends who had shared an adventure. It would take time, more than four weeks to settle back into her old life. Her boring life. How did one readjust? Maybe she should seek advice online.

  She sighed and walked back to the computer. The screen had gone black. She shook the mouse and typed the password. The clock on the screen showed a quarter to six. Time to wrap up and go home via her mother’s grave, of course.

  A knock on the doorframe made Anouk look up. Alison lingered by the threshold and smiled at her.

  “We are going for a quick drink in the pub across the road. Fancy joining us?” She wore a hopeful expression on her face.

  Anouk grimaced. Since she had come back, she had made vague excuses to ward off all of Alison’s invitations. She knew Alison would ask questions about her time with her dad in Amsterdam. Alison also wanted to see pictures of the city. How would Anouk explain the lack of photos when she always had lots after her travels? She hated lying to Alison, but she knew she would have to go out with Alison soon. She needed to come up with a believable story first.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to get home. Still have much to do.”

  Alison’s face fell. “Oh.”

  Anouk winced. “Look…” she started, but Alison waved her hand with a smile on her face. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll go out when you have all your father’s things sorted out.” Alison spun on her heels and chirped over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”

  “See ya.”

  Anouk buried her face in her hands. She wanted so much to confide everything to Alison, but how could she? No one here knew another world similar to theirs existed, or that contraptions like the Gadget could open doorways between them. Alison would think she had lost her mind. No, as much as she hated it, she had to come up with a believable story for her two weeks in Amsterdam and stick with it.

  With a sigh, she turned off the computer. She pulled her coat on, threw her bag over her shoulder and headed out to join the masses on Uxbridge Road. She popped in the florist shop and bought a bundle of yellow roses—her mother’s favourite.

  She walked down the street to Hanwell cemetery, thinking again how strange it was to be back. How the people, the buildings, and the traffic looked different. Even the smells and the sounds were not quite right. She shook her head. No, everything was as it had been before that Tuesday afternoon over a month ago. Only she had changed. She felt almost alien now…

  “Don’t be ridiculous. This is my world, my town, my street and my home. This is where I belong,” she muttered, marching through the cemetery gate.

  She took the path leading to her mother’s grave. Her pace slowed of its own accord when she approached the familiar sarcophagus. The lid that had blown off when Stalo and Nat had entered her world sat fast and undamaged like a seal. The memories of Nat and their first meeting poured into her mind like a fountain, and her throat tightened. She lifted her hand to touch the grave, but stopped and let it drop back to her side.

  Fighting against her tears, she resumed walking and took a shortcut to her mother’s graveside. After changing the flowers, she headed home, taking another route to avoid walking past the Victorian monument once more.

  Her keys clanked in the bowl where she threw them. She went to the kitchen and scooped the last piece of lemon cheesecake onto a plate and poured the remaining champagne in a glass. The treat she had promised herself if she survived had become a weekly ritual. She walked to the living room and turned on the television. After lifting her feet onto the coffee table, she started to sip the cool liquid, not bothering to watch the show, thinking of her last day in Anglea.

  How she had looked forward to returning to London, but when the time came, she… hadn’t wanted to leave.

  “Now, now, don’t be daft. You’re going home,” Nat had replied with a cheery tone when she had told him her reluctance.

  They made the last trip together. After deactivating the Gadget in her hall, she tried to talk Nat into staying as her guest a little longer, but he shook his head.

  “Unfortunately, I have to get back. As a bounty hunter, I can’t afford to stay away long.”

  Disappointment twisted Anouk’s heart. But what had she expected? Business came first for Nat. Always.

  “But before I go, I want to give you something.” Nat held out his closed palm and opened it. “Here.”

  Anouk stared at a small round parcel wrapped in brown paper. “What is it?”

  “A little memory.” Nat reached for her hand and placed the package on it. “Open it.”

  Tears burning her eyes, she tore off the wrapping. A silver pocket watch glinted in the midmorning sun. Delicate floral ornaments decorated its cover, forming her initials, ‘AH’. Anouk popped the lid open. Fine but simple numbers ran the edges of the clock face. In the centre, cogs and pinions worked tirelessly, keeping the clock ticking.

  “It’s beautiful,” Anouk whispered.

  “Glad you like it. It’s Meriweth silver, best you can find,” Nat said, pride in his voice.

  Unable to speak, Anouk buried her face in his shoulder and gave in to the grief swelling in her chest. Nat returned her hug, squeezing her tight.

  Too soon he had pulled away and said, “It was a real pleasure to work with you, Miss Herring. I wish you the very best of luck.” With that, Nat had bowed, lifted his glove and activated the Gadget.

  Anouk set the empty plate and the champagne glass on the table and went to her bedroom. She opened a drawer. The pocket watch lay on top of the outfit from Amanda’s Emporium. She ran her fingers over the silver lid and the clothes—the yearning pressed her chest with the weight of a mountain, making her gasp. Tears started to run down her cheeks. She sank on her bed and stared at the ceiling.

  “My place is here. But why don’t I feel that anymore?”

  Her mother’s last words came to mind, the words she said before she had been too drugged by the painkillers to speak anymore.

  “I want you to enjoy your life. Embrace it with your full heart. You only have this one life, so seize it at every opportunity. Explore. Don’t stay here, mourn over me and become as bitter as I have been. That’s the only thing I regret in my life.”

  Anouk’s breathing quickened as a plan took form in her mind. She bolted up, grinning. “Yes.”

  * * *

  A mug of tea stopped on Alison’s lips and she stared at Anouk, her expression wavering between horror and disbelief. “You’re quitting?”

  “Yes. I just gave notice to Siobhan.” Anouk smiled at her friend before blowing on her coffee.

  “Why? What are you planning to do?”

  “Travel.”

  “Travel?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long?”

&
nbsp; “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Anouk took a sip from her cup.

  “You are coming back at some point, right?” Alison asked with a wary look.

  Anouk grinned and shrugged. “I’ve a whole world to explore, but I’m keeping my flat for now, so yes, I’m coming back at some point.”

  Alison brushed a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Round the world trip, eh? You know, I admire you. I couldn’t do that.”

  “Well, I didn’t think so either, but then I realised I’ve mourned enough. I have this one life and I’m damn well going to enjoy it.”

  A smile spread on Alison’s face. “Good for you. If you can, drop me an email or a card once in a while from your trip.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.”

  “Alright then, but I insist we go for a pint before you leave.”

  Anouk sighed and put down her coffee cup. “Yeah, why not.”

  The following few weeks, Anouk planned for her trip and organised everything so she didn’t have to worry ‘on the road’. Her Aunt Cecilia promised to take care of her mother’s grave and her flat. Against all Anouk’s expectations, the pint with Alison was fun, although Alison tried to pry into her plans. Anouk laughed off all her attempts.

  When the day dawned, Anouk walked around her flat, checking everything. There was only one thing left to do.

  “Hi, Mum.” Anouk bent down to kiss the headstone. “I’m taking your advice and going for an adventure like Bilbo Baggins. Yeah, I know, Mum. I’ve always been a bit silly with my literary references.”

  What would her mother say if she was alive? Would she encourage her to go? She had always urged her to travel and been her most keen audience when she came back. Anouk decided she would.

  She kissed the headstone one more time. “Aunt Cecilia will look after you while I’m gone. I love you, Mum.”

  Back in her flat, she tossed the backpack over her shoulder and took one last look around her home. “Till wanderlust is satisfied or I run out of money.”

  She locked the door and ran down the stairs. The taxi she had ordered was already waiting.

  “Heathrow,” Anouk said to the driver who was holding the car door open for her.

  Soon, the taxi joined the stream of slow-moving traffic. Humming, she watched the bustle on the street. No one was smiling. Anouk sighed and rested her head against the window frame. Yes, she had made the right decision. This adventure, though, would be a different kind—sightseeing, exotic food and new people—and it definitely didn’t include dodging bullets and chasing maniacal warlords.

  The traffic crawled. Anouk popped open her pocket watch—it was midday, giving her plenty of time to catch her late afternoon flight to Bangkok. As she slipped the watch back into her pocket, something on the street caught her eyes. A man stood at a street corner, he was leaning against the wall. His clothes were dark and worn. He observed the people passing from under the brim of his cap.

  Anouk narrowed her eyes. There was something off about the man… something old-fashioned. He was too shabby and grimy to be an average hipster. He looked like he could be from the last century. Her heart missed a beat. Could he be… The taxi sped.

  Anouk turned around and tried to take a better look at the stranger from the back window, but traffic was now flowing at a good speed and the man vanished from sight. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. No man with his appearance could have afforded a Gadget, and anyway, Nat had said they were hard to get. Besides, Stalo’s Gadget had been broken.

  Her breath caught… Stalo’s Gadget. She had no idea what had happened to it after Shannah broke it. Could someone have fixed it? No, if it was possible, Stalo would have done it and not planned to take Nat’s.

  Maybe there was a steampunk convention somewhere in London.

  Afterword

  THANK YOU FOR READING THE GADGET. I hope you enjoyed the ride. And if you did, please consider leaving a review. They make a huge difference. Also, if you have friends who you think might enjoy the book as much as you did, please do tell them.

  I’m pleased to reveal Anouk and Nat’s adventure continues in The Non-Dolls, the next installment in The Rondon Chronicles. Subscribe to my mailing list https://www.subscribepage.com/f2f1d2 and get updates directly into your inbox.

  About the Author

  V. J. Timlin is a professional archaeologist and an ESL writer who loves good stories. She started writing as a kid, retelling and illustrating The Little Mermaid and other classic stories. Nowadays she writes Steampunk, Urban Fantasy, and Prehistoric crime fiction among other things. Her debut novel The Gadget, part one of The Rondon Chronicles, is out now.

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  https://vjtimlin.wordpress.com

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