The Clockwork House

by Wendy Saunders

  He picked up a cloth and resumed wiping down the smooth glossy wood of the bar. Absently glancing across to the doorway he saw her immediately. It took him a moment to process that he’d stopped cleaning and was just standing staring.

  She stood out; even in jeans, a plain white tank, red sneakers and without a scrap of make-up she was stunning. All gold skin, dark eyes and hair as black as Indian ink. He watched as she crossed the room, heading toward the other end of the bar. She didn’t take a seat, instead she picked up a menu and began to read.

  ‘Hey, what can I get you?’

  Ava looked up at the tall guy standing smiling at her from the other side of the bar. Her gaze dipped from his face to his torso and back up again.

  ‘Umm,’ she glanced back down at the menu.

  ‘You eating?’ he asked.

  She nodded.

  ‘Well,’ he smiled easily, ‘the lobster rolls are really good.’

  ‘Huh,’ she looked up, her gaze locking on his eyes. Under the dim lights she couldn’t really tell what color they were, but they were light. ‘I’ve never had lobster before.’

  ‘You’ve…’ his eyes widened slightly, ‘what never?’

  She shook her head, her mouth curving slightly.

  ‘That’s practically sacrilegious around here.’

  ‘That right?’ she replied in amusement.

  ‘You know, we’re going to have to remedy that, stat.’

  ‘Maybe next time,’ she smiled suddenly, and he stopped and blinked. ‘I’ll take the cheeseburger and fries thanks, if you could wrap it up to go.’

  ‘Uh,’ he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, ‘to go, right.’

  She continued to scan down the menu.

  ‘Can you add the steak with that.’

  ‘Steak?’ His eyes drifted over her slim hourglass figure, pausing briefly on her small waist, ‘you want a steak too?’

  ‘Uh huh,’ she nodded.

  ‘Any other sides with that?’

  ‘Nope,’ she replied simply, ‘just the steak, rare… so it faintly whispers moo.’

  ‘Okay…’ he set his order pad down, ‘you do know how big the burger is right? You seriously telling me you’re going to down a twelve-ounce steak too?’

  No,’ her mouth curved, ‘it’s for my dog.’

  ‘Your dog?’ he repeated slowly, ‘you’re going to buy your dog an eighteen-dollar steak?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I?’ Ava shrugged, ‘she likes steak and besides if I don’t give her something good to distract her, she won’t let me eat my burger.’

  His head tilted a fraction as he studied her curiously.

  ‘Okay,’ he smiled a moment later, ‘one burger, one steak coming right up. It may take a little while, why don’t you take a seat and I’ll get you something to drink?’

  ‘Coke please,’ she slid onto the bar stool and watched as he placed her food order.

  He filled a tall glass and slid it in front of her.

  ‘You’re new on the island then?’ he leaned on the bar in front of her.

  ‘Yeah,’ she took a sip of her ice-cold drink.

  ‘Vacation?’

  ‘Family business,’ she replied vaguely.

  ‘You have family on the island then?’ he asked curiously.

  ‘You ask a lot of questions,’ her eyes narrowed slightly.

  ‘But that’s how you get to know someone,’ he smiled.

  ‘You never heard of stranger danger?’

  He chuckled lightly shaking his head, ‘more often than I’d like.’

  She frowned at the weird response.

  ‘Kelley Ryan,’ he held out his hand.

  She stared at his hand suspiciously before glancing back up at his expectant face.

  ‘Ava,’ she grudgingly offered, as she took his hand and shook as briefly as she could without being rude.

  ‘Ava?’ he left it hanging. ‘Or is it one name like Cher or Madonna, or maybe Sting.’

  ‘Cortez,’ she replied, trying not to be charmed.

  ‘Ava Cortez,’ he rumbled, his mouth curving as he studied her, ‘I’m pleased to meet you.’

  She refused to let her name on his tongue heat her belly, or any other part of her for that matter, despite the warm gravelly tone of his voice. She was there to deal with the house and find out if she had any living family, not scratch an itch with any of the locals, no matter how appealing they were.

  ‘So where are you from?’

  ‘Lots of different places.’

  ‘Are you always this prickly?’ he asked in amusement.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied flatly.

  His name was called loudly from the other end of the bar, so he excused himself reluctantly and moved further down and began filling drinks orders.

  She sat quietly sipping her coke and watching him. His frame was tall and just the right side of lanky to not be skinny. His skin, paler in the winter months she guessed was tanned, his hair, a medium brown with licks of sun kissed blonde, hung to his collar, long enough to run his fingers through but not so long as to look untidy. She still wasn’t entirely sure what color his eyes were, his smile was easy and genuine, but the face damn it, he was entirely too gorgeous for his own good.

  The women flocked to him like a half-price sale at Nordstrom, she noticed. Each of them starry eyed, pouted lipped and with cleavage he could trip over if he wasn’t careful. But she noticed he ignored every single one of them, other than a polite smile, in favor of glancing in her direction every few moments as if to satisfy himself she was still there and not some figment of his imagination.

  It would be flattering if she wasn’t so suspicious. A man that good looking had to know the effect he had on women. He couldn’t be that oblivious to the disappointed pouts and sulky frowns he left in his wake.

  He would be trouble; she could just tell. Probably best to steer well clear of him.

  ‘ORDER UP.’

  There was a hearty boom of a voice punctuated by the dainty tinkle of a small bell.

  Kelley headed back her way, stopping to pick up her order which was in a brown paper bag.

  ‘Can you throw a couple of beers in there?’ Ava asked.

  ‘Sure,’ he folded a couple of napkins and tucked them into the bag before retrieving a couple of cold bottles from the small refrigerator behind him.

  ‘So,’ he smiled easily, ‘where are you staying while you’re on the island?’

  ‘Why?’ she asked suspiciously.

  ‘How else am I going to call you up and ask you to dinner, you still need to try the lobster remember?’ he winked, ‘the locals won’t accept you until you do.’

  ‘I don’t think….’

  There was a loud and sudden crash from the kitchen followed by profuse stream of profanities.

  ‘Hold that thought,’ Kelley turned toward the kitchen, ‘seriously, don’t move I’ll be right back.’

  He disappeared through the doors into the back and Ava sighed. He was too appealing for his own good, or maybe her own good. She shook her head, she wasn’t looking to start anything up, even anything casual, she had too much on her mind. Shoving her hand into her pocket she pulled out a handful of bills and dropped them on the bar as she picked up the bag of food and her two beers.

  Shame, she glanced once more in the direction Kelley had disappeared before she deliberately turned and walked out the door.

  Climbing back into her truck, Bailey immediately stuck her nose into the bag.

  ‘NO!’ Ava snapped firmly, ‘you have to wait. If not, you can sit in the back.’

  Bailey obediently sat down, her tail thumping against the seat, a small plaintive whine at the back of her throat.

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ Ava nodded as she tucked the food down in front of the seat and backed out onto the road.

  They headed back through the town, up the narrow winding road, following the route they’d taken earlier in the day. It was almost full dark now, with only her headlamps to guide the way t
hrough the tree lined road.

  Finally, it opened up and Ava pulled up, parking a short distance from the house on the patchy grass.

  ‘Come on then girl,’ she climbed out with Bailey hopping down enthusiastically next to her. ‘Would you look at that?’ she breathed.

  The full moon reflected off the ocean making it glitter and shimmer restlessly, and in that one instant, with the cool night air tugging at her hair and the salty scent of the ocean in her nostrils combined with the soothing sound of the waves crashing against the base of the cliff, she fell hopelessly in love. Whereas her mom had needed the heat and the desert, Ava realized, she needed the ocean.

  Smiling to herself she climbed up into the flatbed of her truck and settled back down beside Bailey as she unwrapped their food.

  After they’d eaten, Ava had enjoyed a cool beer as she lay back staring at the pinpricks of light in the vast indigo sky above her, and for the first time in her life, she felt peaceful. She watched for the longest time, snuggled back against her bags, with a full belly, the comforting weight of her dog pressing across her legs and the lullaby of the ocean crooning softly to her. Her eyes began to get heavy, drifting closed, and as the moon watched over her, high in the sky, Ava didn’t notice the tiny flickering of a solitary candle in the topmost room of the darkened house.

  3

  The Lynch House, Midnight Island.

  Jan 1907.

  She reached out with gentle hands and as she peeled the dressing back, he whimpered in pain as the stained cotton took a layer of oozing skin with it.

  ‘Shush,’ she whispered.

  ‘It hurts.’

  ‘I know it does,’ her eyes widened nervously as she glanced at the closed door, ‘but if you make a noise, she’ll hear you.’

  The small boy clamped his lips closed so tightly they turned white, his eyes filled with pain and fear. She resumed her task, working quickly to avoid causing him any more pain. The skin of his stomach was angry and red, peeling in patches, his groin and his upper thighs weren’t much better. There was still no improvement. All she could see were blisters and dead skin. He would bear scars for the rest of his life, but he would recover as long as the wounds did not become infected.

  ‘Why does she hate us?’ he asked as she pulled his nightshirt down over the fresh dressings and drew the blanket back over him.

  ‘Hush,’ she soothed him, ‘don’t think about that now.’

  She stood quietly, wincing slightly as the floor creaked beneath her stockinged feet. She tried to move as quietly as possible. She removed her dark blue woolen dress and laid it over the back of the plain wooden chair, leaving her in only her pantalettes and chemise as she perched on the edge of the bed and removed her black wool stockings.

  She stood slowly and as she turned, the dim flickering candlelight highlighted the angry red slashes across the backs of her arms, her shoulders, and her back, disappearing underneath the white lace of her chemise.

  ‘Does it still hurt?’ he asked in a small voice as he stared at the thin vicious marks of the switch. His tummy hurt when he looked at them; she’d been punished because she’d tried to stop HER, from hurting him. It hadn’t mattered anyway; she’d still scalded him and beaten his sister. ‘I can put some salve on it.’

  ‘No love,’ she whispered, ‘it doesn’t hurt.’

  She turned away from him, so he couldn’t see the lie in her eyes. It was painful, every time she moved it burned and ached, but there was only a little salve left and his need was greater.

  She grabbed her long nightshirt and pulled it on over her undergarments and shivered, her breath puffing out in little white misty clouds. It was so cold in the topmost room, but the servants weren’t allowed to light the fire.

  She climbed into bed beside him, clambering under the blankets and pulling him in close.

  ‘Sleep now,’ she murmured, rocking him gently in her arms.

  ‘Will you tell me a story?’ he whispered sleepily.

  ‘Only if you close your eyes,’ she murmured, her brow furrowing slightly as she felt the intense heat from his small, thin body.

  Blowing out the candle, they lay together in the darkness as she whispered to him. Tales of faraway lands, of towers and palaces, of wild animals and elephants, the wonders of the world.

  ‘Will we go one day?’ he murmured, his voice slurred, ‘you and I?’

  ‘Of course, love,’ she stroked his damp hair, ‘as soon as I’m old enough I’m going to take you away from this place, far far away from this house, from her. We’ll be free and she’ll never ever hurt us ever again.’

  ‘Promise?’ he mumbled.

  ‘I promise,’ she kissed his clammy forehead, ‘now sleep.’

  She held him in the darkness as he slipped into dreams, not knowing that he would be dead before the dawn.

  4

  Ava’s head broke the water and she dragged in a lungful of air. The early morning sun was bright and the air warm, although her skin pebbled under the cool water as it rippled and shimmered around her, catching the rays of light and reflecting them back.

  Wading over to the rocky ledge she retrieved her bar of soap and began to wash, as Bailey barked happily and jumped in and out of the waves, playing like an excitable puppy. Then again, Ava couldn’t really blame her. Up until this point neither of them had spent any real time along the coast, now they found themselves on a beautiful little island and it felt good.

  Ava dunked under the water to rinse the lather. She’d bathed in some pretty questionable places over the years thanks to her transient lifestyle, courtesy of her mother but there was something liberating about bathing in the ocean. Clean and fresh, with her skin smelling like a curious mixture of coconut and saltwater, she waded back to the shore and grabbed her towel. Completely at ease with her nakedness she toweled off and pulled her clean clothes on.

  There was no way anyone could see her from this vantage point. The top of the cliff jutted out so that the beach was barely visible from above and the cliffs either side curved outwards so that her little beach was nestled in a U shape, almost like a small lagoon. The route of the ferry from the mainland passed the other side of the cliff and so there was no way anyone could intrude on her little slice of heaven.

  Climbing up onto a huge boulder, with a bottle of water in one hand and her toothbrush in the other, she began to clean her teeth as she stared out at the water.

  Something tugged at the edges of her mind. A strange dream from the night before, but even now, she found she couldn’t quite recall the details. She wasn’t sure why it was bothering her so much, especially as she couldn’t remember it, but she’d woken with a heaviness in her chest and an inexplicable feeling of unbearable loss and sorrow.

  Ava rinsed her mouth out and sighed. Trying to put the uneasiness from her mind, she stared out across the deep blue water.

  It certainly was a gorgeous spot and from what she’d seen of the island so far, it was a charming little community. Why would her mom want to leave?

  She found herself wishing she’d known about Midnight Island before her mom had gotten sick, then she could have asked her about it. Not that Serenity would have answered, she was a champion evader when she wanted to be. That was how she managed to die of cancer without Ava even knowing she’d been sick.

  No, she shook her head, even if her mom had still been alive, Ava doubted she’d have told her anything about her childhood home. Which meant, she would have to figure it out for herself. Maybe talk to some of the locals, and while she was at it see if she could dig up some information on the house itself, but first on the agenda was tracking down the owner of the construction company and getting someone to check the internal stability of the house. She had to admit she was beyond curious to see inside.

  With that thought firmly in mind she pulled her sneakers on and gathering up her towel and belongings she whistled for her dog, who gazed longingly at the sea one more time before letting out a series of barks and following her up
the roughly hewn steps carved into the cliff face.

  Hope Ryan leaned back in her chair, rubbing her hugely swollen belly with a sigh of frustration. She picked up the report she’d been trying to read and yawned widely. She was at the ‘not getting any sleep’ phase of her pregnancy due to the fact that A) she couldn’t get comfortable and B) her unborn babies wouldn’t let her. Then when she added in C and D, her four-year-old twins and her seven-year-old daughter, she was beginning to wonder if she’d ever sleep again.

  Was it even possible to die of lack of sleep? Or did she just have a crappy temperament and hallucinations to look forward to? If it was hallucinations, she was hoping for one which involved no kids, her pre-pregnant sized body (minus the stretch marks), a deserted tropical island and a manservant named Raoul, in tiny trunks who served her cocktails all day long. Her husband wasn’t allowed; he was banned from her tropical hallucinations on account of the fact it was his fault they’d ended up with so many children. Well, she didn’t know if it was genetically his fault, but she was the one with the swollen ankles, so damn it he was taking the blame.

  Turning her attention back to the mind-numbing report about lumber discount, she blinked again, watching as the letters just blurred together. Dropping the report back down on the desk she glanced out the window and saw a black truck pull in. It wasn’t one of theirs; it was too new and definitely too clean.

  Being of a curious nature, Hope would’ve gotten out of her chair and waddled over to the window to get a better look, but she wasn’t sure she could. She was willing to bet her hips were firmly wedged in the stupid chair. In fact, it was entirely possible that when it was time to go home her husband would have to simply wheel her out in the chair and strap her to the back of his rusty red pick-up.

  The door to the office opened and the first thing Hope saw was a huge ball of gold and black fur bound over to her, sniffing her excitedly and rubbing its whole body against Hope, making the office chair roll back against the wall.