This slightly bizarre sense of humour Tippy Handle had picked up from Alfie Reginald Potts who, despite his many flaws, had a funny bone like no one else she had ever met in her life before. Mind you, at times that funny bone could be a little jarring, sometimes a lot jarring, Scarlet certainly thought so. But deep, deep down Tippy knew it wasn’t funny, she had brought shame on her family and her other apprentices. Most of the Clock People thought she was funny in the head, she had no doubt about that by the way they looked at her when she had re-entered the mechanism. But what was done was done, she’d have to accept her punishment like a man. Do her time, keep her head down. She would tell everybody how bad the outside world was, redeeming herself in the eyes of the Clock Elders. From now on she would be a model citizen, working like clockwork morning, noon and night if that’s what it took to get back into the good books of the Clock Elders and her peers.
Right at this minute Tippy Handle wished she was a model, a toy soldier in the Clockwork Theatre in Toy Town or a maid in a dolls’ house belonging to Princess Victoria, one made of tin or plastic, for then she wouldn’t feel so bad. Tippy felt as if this whole experience could tip her right over the edge. She tipped her hat to the madcap comic genius that was Alfred Reginald Potts, the greatest travelling minstrel, harlequin, court jester that had ever trod the streets of London. There was no doubt this experience had changed her. She felt more like one of the giants than one of the so-called little people whose minds appeared to work too much like clockwork.
As Tippy replayed the one-sided conversation she had with the Clock Elders she couldn’t believe it was her standing her ground, even though she was sitting down at the time. Before she had seen the outside world she was as quiet as a mouse, but now she roared and snapped like Leonardo da Vinci’s clockwork lion, the one he’d made for a pope. The name of the pope escaped her, as history wasn’t her strongest subject, however she undoubtedly would have liked to escape the cramped confines of the mechanism at this point in time. At one time Tippy even imagined she had a tail, even if it was invisible – ‘Hickory Dickory Dock, the girl with the mousey hair that hid inside a clock!’ That was before she was led to the dock and tried for treason! Well, now this mouse roared like a lion with a heart as big as a lionhearted knight of days of yore. No longer would she hide in a clock. It was her time and she meant to make the most of every second, every minute, every hour, every day, month, year and lifetime of it. She would bide her time because time was on her side, unlike the Clock Elders whose body clocks were running down, as she knew full well she wouldn’t be able to play the dutiful apprentice forever.
It was just a matter of time before the wizened old men of the clock would clock off and never clock back on again. She would go down in the history of the Clock People: Apprentice First Class Tippy Handle, the girl who single-handedly planned and carried out a revolution. How many revolutions of the clock this would take she had no idea, she just hoped she did not need Leonardo da Vinci’s Infinity Clock to record this momentous happening.
Tippy knew it didn’t pay to have an imagination if you lived in the clock, and this was not helped by the fact she had travelled, and travel stretched the imagination even further. Furthermore she hadn’t even travelled in time like Wilbur, for if she had her imagination would have been stretched further still. Little did Tippy know, not only had she travelled in time but so had the Clock People. If they knew this would they still feel happy living inside a mechanism, Tippy wondered.
Tippy still had plenty of wonder and wonderlust like Alice in Wonderland, along with a good deal of wanderlust still in her, and these wonderings led not to Wonderland but to how Wilbur, Scarlet and Alfie were doing. She missed them all terribly. She also missed the adventure and desperately wanted to know how the story she had been a part of had ended. It felt to Tippy as if she had read half the book and then a book thief had stolen it from out of her grasp, just as the story was reaching the climax. And this book was the only copy in the world, an original, a first and only edition.
Tick tock, tick tock, tick…
41
The Return of the Clockwork Magician
Tick tock, tick tock, time moves on until we find ourselves outside the home of the clockmaker and designer of fantastical automatons, John Joseph Merlin. Here was a man with magic not so much at his fingertips but in his fingertips, or so some folk said, as if he were some kind of wizard like Merlin the Magician.
‘We have arrived at the home and workshop of the great magician of the clock world, John Joseph Merlin, a man who some said could conjure with time like the real Merlin,’ Billy said in awe of the great man. In truth Billy felt as a watchmaker he had arrived in more ways than one.
‘Do you think we are too late?’ Scarlet asked looking at the invisible miniature sundial on her wrist. Believe it or not, in medieval times there were such instruments as wooden sundial wristbands, although they were not invisible! Was there a moondial wristwatch in Merlin’s day? I would imagine so. Scarlet certainly imagined this was so.
‘What do you mean? Look, it’s—’ Billy replied looking puzzled as he pointed to the dial on the dragonfly brooch watch, but the time, date and year were no longer there. However, it was clear from the fashions and the buildings they were somewhere in the eighteenth century. If the dragonfly and the time compass were working then they should be in England on 1st December 1761. It was cold enough for December. Telling what the time was by wetting you finger and holding it in the air was quite another matter, quite another matter. They should just be glad their matter hadn’t been scattered through time and space like tiny snowflakes.
‘I mean, perhaps the thief beat us to it, after all he disappeared into time before we did and although it was only a few moments it could be weeks, months, even years, that’s if you believe the storybooks!’ Scarlet said looking worried.
‘Surely he wouldn’t harm Merlin. He might steal some of his legendary timepieces but that’s all,’ Billy replied half smiling and half grimacing.
‘But what if Merlin caught him in the act of stealing and during a struggle he harmed him, or what if the thief simply wanted information, wanted to know if John Joseph Merlin was the original maker of the watch? And if he was not the original maker did he know who was and if Merlin would not tell him—’ Scarlet exclaimed letting her imagination run wild.
‘And nothing of the sort, I’m sure Merlin is alright, although the sooner we put that imagination of yours to rest the better,’ Billy said striding towards the house in a purposeful manner.
‘What, what, are you going to tell Merlin that, that he’s in danger? There’s a thief out there somewhere who wants to steal his timeline?’ stuttered Scarlet jumping forward in time in her mind.
‘No, I’m going to say I’m a fan of his work, flatter him, not that I imagine he needs a lot of flattery. Perhaps he’ll invite us in and show us around, he might even tell us something important. Maybe he is the maker of the original watch although John Cole could just as easily be, as could Abraham-Louis Breguet, Cornelis Drebbel, Arthur Beverly, Archimedes, Leonardo da Vinci – all makers of exceptional timepieces. Of course da Vinci’s Infinity Clock was never built, or at least to my knowledge it hadn’t been, unless a page on the history on horology has been torn out and burnt!’ Billy exclaimed also letting his imagination take flight.
‘Come on then, time waits for no traveller apart from a time traveller of course,’ said Alfie speeding the time clock up as the young often had a mind to do. Controlling time with the mind – surely this could only be achieved by the great Merlin himself, Old Father Time, God or the Clock God?
‘Yes, can I help?’ a woman asked opening the door and staring blankly at the slightly curious children before her, who to her mind were all dressed in a slightly odd fashion. Not that she knew much about young people’s fashion, which went in and out like the tide – time and tide in this curious case!
‘We wish t
o see Mr Merlin, we have something important to tell him although we haven’t an appointment,’ Billy replied taking the lead.
‘Unless you count an appointment with destiny,’ Scarlet muttered under her breath.
‘Who shall I say wishes to see my husband, Merlin’s apprentice or Sir Lancelot?’ The woman smiled an enigmatic smile Scarlet imagined she borrowed off the Mona Lisa. ‘John, there are some people here to see you.’
‘I won’t be a minute,’ a voice cried from the top of the stairs.
‘If I had a sovereign for every time I’ve heard that line I would be a rich woman,’ Mrs Merlin replied raising an eyebrow.
‘You are a rich woman and in part I think that is down to me and Mr Cox,’ John Joseph Merlin smiled appearing by his wife’s side as if by magic.
‘Where did you spring from? Sometimes I think I’m really living with Merlin the Magician and not a simple clockmaker.’
‘A simple clockmaker? This simple clockmaker is offended by such a remark, as all clock and watchmakers would be, and as for where I sprang from… the grandfather clock in the hall I would imagine, after the real Merlin put a shrinking spell upon me!’ John Joseph Merlin joked as a smile flickered across the dial of his face.
If only he knew, Scarlet thought smiling to herself, although Alfie and Billy turned almost as pale as a ghostly moon on hearing this remark. Did this Merlin have the power of foresight like Nostradamus or the real Merlin the Magician? And if he did then perhaps so did his wife. The Magician and the Magicianess would make a nice story, or so Scarlet imagined.
‘Are any of you time mechanics?’ Merlin enquired playing the court jester, surely beneath a man of such fantastical abilities. The truth was, John Joseph Merlin was a man who loved a jest and often dressed up in weird and wonderful creations at parties held in high society.
Billy was tongue-tied at meeting one of his heroes and could not utter one single word. Scarlet simply blushed, which left Alfie to step forward and take centre stage upon the doorstep theatre.
‘William is the only time mechanic amongst us, Scarlet is my sister and I’m Alfie Reginald Potts, her imaginative and inventive brother. I design paper flying machines and run my own museum out of my bedroom,’ Alfie said beaming from ear to ear as he produced an imaginary business card and handed it to Merlin.
‘How enterprising of you, young man. Well then, you had better all come in, it’s cold outside. According to the weather barometer on the wall it will snow some time today. Mind you, it said that six months ago during a heatwave so I’m inclined to take what it says with a pinch of salt. Salt, as it happens, is the best way to melt snow and that’s the scientific mind for you, it loves to string things together like pearls. However, not all are pearls of wisdom, some are merely shells containing oysters and I know they are supposed to be an aphrodisiac but I hate oysters,’ Merlin smiled letting his mind wander wherever it pleased.
‘Dear, will you please let these people get a word in edgeways, they have something important to tell you,’ Mrs Merlin said sighing gently as she led the weary time travellers into the drawing room. ‘I’m afraid he has never heard of the word compendious, however he has heard of the words complex and complication as I am sure you are all aware by now!’
‘Ah yes, sorry, overwound the old infernal clock. I imagine it needs a spot of oiling. Do please come in. Tea, dear, for our guests. Oh and perhaps a little of your marvellous new invention, the carrot cake. It’s not made with carrots, by the way,’ John Joseph Merlin said trying not to laugh.
‘Yes, my lord, anything you say, my lord. One would imagine I’m keeping house for a time lord. Yes, that’s why everybody calls you a man ahead of your time and your time machine, the old grandfather clock by the stairs,’ sniffed Mrs Merlin teasing her husband while using her imagination to good effect.
‘And they say I have quite the imagination,’ Merlin replied trying not to smile.
‘I must say nowadays young people do dress strangely. You’re not showpeople, are you? They dress in a most peculiar manner,’ Mrs Merlin said not meaning to be rude.
‘My brother and I come from a theatrical background –fairground, shows and the stage – and William is a watchmaker of much promise,’ Scarlet replied trying to get their imaginary story into some sort of order. At least the bit about Billy being a watchmaker was true. How promising he was she had no idea. His career certainly hadn’t got off to a promising start, being fired from his position of a watchmaker’s apprentice for being a thief. But even if Billy were a simple thief this was small-time compared with being a time thief who stole time and valuable timepieces.
‘Oh yes, Mr Merlin, we’ve come to tell you a thief is nearby.’ ‘Oh thank you, miss, so kind of you to let us know. I suppose with your friend being a thief he moves in all the right circles, or should that be the wrong circles?’ ‘Yes, that may be true and you know all about circles, Mr Merlin, for you are a watchmaker and a member of the Magic Circle. Anyway as they say it takes a thief to catch a thief!’ Some conversations were best kept in the imagination, Scarlet thought as she smiled to herself knowingly.
‘I must show you my designs for a new automaton, I call it the Merlin Mechanic. It will revolutionise the world of mechanical mechanisms, or it will once James Cox has built it for me,’ Merlin said raising his eyebrows. ‘Now sit down and tell me your story. We don’t get many young people visit us. Our children have grown up and there are no grandchildren as yet.’
‘I would just like to say your work is an inspiration to all clockmakers, Mr Merlin, and your mechanical swan and automatons are masterpieces of the age,’ gushed Billy finally managing to untie the fisherman’s knots in his tongue.
‘It’s kind of you to say so, young man. William, was it?’
‘Billy or William, either will do,’ Billy replied.
‘I see and pray tell me, young man, how do you know about the mechanical swan? It’s still on the drawing board, unless it has escaped from out of the canvas. That sounds like a story written by the Writer, the automaton, one of the fantastical creations of my rival Henri Maillardet,’ Merlin said half smiling and half looking puzzled.
For a second or two Billy looked lost for words, as if his tongue had retied itself into fisherman’s knots. Luckily Scarlet’s mind was running like clockwork as she stepped in and spoke on his behalf.
‘It was in the newspapers, a rumour I would imagine, or a writer trying to make a name for himself, unless he knows Nostradamus, the great seer, isn’t that right, William?’ Scarlet said laughing nervously at her own joke.
‘Unless a mischievous spirit of a dead watchmaker is haunting the automaton, the Writer!’ Alfie grinned making up a short horror tale on the spot.
‘Yes, yes, that’s right, I mean about the Writer not the spirit of a deceased watchmaker!’ Billy grimaced trying not to go the colour of the carpet, which was red, as he found himself wishing it were a magic carpet so he could make his escape from the hole he felt he was sinking into.
‘Yes, it is true the newspapers do tend to make things up at times. Their stories are quite imaginative, if quite unbelievable!’ laughed Merlin along with Scarlet and Billy, although the joke went right over Alfie’s head like the floating lady, a trick performed by the Italian magician the Great Baldini. In truth it turned out the Great Baldini wasn’t quite so great as he couldn’t keep the lady airborne, who weighed as much as a baby elephant and fell and crushed him to death!
‘So what was it you wanted to tell me?’ enquired John Joseph Merlin looking at his fob watch as if to say, ‘It’s time I was getting back to work.’
‘We believe a thief is in the area, one who steals valuable timepieces,’ Scarlet said matter-of-factly. ‘William heard it on the goldsmiths’ grapevine, didn’t you, William?’ Scarlet grunted nudging Billy with her knee, chivvying him along as if she really were the puppet mistress and Billy the puppet.
‘Yes, yes, there was a robbery in the jeweller’s down the street from the goldsmith’s where I work,’ Billy replied biting his lip, hoping today the clockmaker was buying stories of a fictional nature.
‘Well, that’s very kind of you to warn me. I will make sure all the windows and doors are securely locked when I go to bed at night and perhaps I will get a guard dog too. I have a design on the drawing board for a clockwork alarm system connected to a string of clocks, grandfather clocks, which when set in motion will make it sound as if Old Father Time’s grand grandfather clock is chiming in the house. That, I would imagine, should scare off any would-be thief,’ Merlin said proudly holding onto the lapels of his jacket and this time he did not smile. Merlin was wearing a white hat and was dressed in a striking red and white outfit which made him look like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Billy could see Merlin conducting an orchestra of automatons, as he knew he had invented several musical instruments.
‘I would imagine so,’ replied Billy nervously.
‘Ah, tea and cake, about time too,’ Merlin muttered under his breath as Mrs Merlin put the tray down upon a table. Much to the travellers’ surprise and amazement the tea table spun around several times before coming to rest, spilling half the tea and sugar onto the carpet.
‘Joseph, really, you swore to me that you had fixed that infernal self-propelling pedal-powered tea table which, let’s face it, is more contraption than tea table!’ snapped Mrs Merlin picking up the sugarbowl and several tea cakes off the floor.
‘Sorry dear, my latest invention still has a few gremlins hiding in it gumming up the works!’ Merlin mumbled apologetically, scratching his head. You see, Merlin had made lots of inventions, some that worked and some that didn’t. He invented a pump for expelling foul smells, a system for calling his servants, inline skates – early roller skates – a self-propelling wheelchair. One had to wonder if he hadn’t made a self-propelling version of Mrs Merlin, one who could do all the cooking and the housework in double quick time! Billy thought perhaps Merlin should invent a machine for expelling unwanted visitors, which included time thieves but did not include time travellers!
The Clock People Page 25