111 West End

Chapter Twelve: The Clock

Georgie hummed as she climbed the stairs to the children's room. Early that morning, she'd taken delivery of two metal framed, Victorian-style beds, and now with the precision of a matron, she folded the corners and smoothed the wrinkles from the crisp, white sheets she had bought, washed, and pressed the day before.

Georgie sang lullabies as she plumped the feather pillows, tucked in the thick woollen blankets, and placed a small brass bell on each bedside table. On the two windowsills, she arranged vases of flowers to complement the pale blue wallpaper and her new thermal curtains.

The children's room was at the front of 111 West End. Chosen for its views, she'd arranged the two beds to face the windows. Propped up with pillows, a child could see the narrow street below. And beyond, to the moors, where today a wintery mist rose from the damp soil.

Inside the room, a shadowy mist lingered in the corner, blending into the stone walls.

Georgie checked the bedroom one last time to make sure it was perfect. Satisfied with her work, she closed the door and wandered along the hall, past the portrait, and the wall devoid of clock or ornament. She walked in a daze through the kitchen diner, down the cellar steps, and into the strong room.

Against the wall was a ladder. As though it had always been there.

Georgie leant the ladder against the shelves and climbed up. On the highest shelf, sat a wooden box. Georgie slid the box closer and brushed away the cobwebs. Trying not to inhale the dust, she climbed down the ladder and placed the box on the floor.

The contents were old and fragile. A collection of toys. Carefully, she carried the box up the cellar stairs and into the kitchen.

Georgie placed the box on the worktop and ran a bowl of warm, soapy water. She washed and dried the child's tea set, meticulously painted with pink flowers. She wiped the face of the china doll and brushed the dust from her blue silk dress; she polished the bright red clockwork train until it shone, and with great care, she hand-washed the well-loved teddy bear and hung him on the washing line. When her task was complete, she returned the box to the shelf in the cellar and placed the ladder back where she found it.

From then on, Georgie's day passed in a blur. She pottered about the house, dusting and humming, her mind elsewhere. Until teddy was dry, and she carried him upstairs.

Laid out on the floor was the tea set. The red train was placed on the windowsill, and the china doll lay on the pillow of one bed.
Georgie sat Teddy on the other.

*

It was gone three when the men from Harker & Sons arrived.

"Hello love, where do you want this?" asked the man holding the delivery slip.

"At the end of the hall. I'll show you."

The man followed Georgie to the darkest part of the house.

"There." She pointed to the wall.

"Thank the lord," the man said with a grin. "I had visions of having to carry that clock up two flights of stairs. It weighs a ton."

"No, it belongs there." Georgie didn't smile at the man.

"Right... well... we'll unload it."

"Yes." Georgie waited as the men delivered the clock and left.

At the end of the hall, back where it belonged, the grandfather clock ticked.