Theo picked it up. ‘Wow! This is… exquisite.’ He turned it over in his hands, examining it from every angle. ‘The detailing is so fine, and I’m almost certain those are diamonds on the bezel. Tiny ones, but real. Has your dad ever had it valued?’
‘Not that he’s ever said,’ Pippa replied. ‘It used to belong to my grandfather who passed it on to my dad. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was expensive. My grandfather wouldn’t have skimped on cost for something special.’
Theo turned the watch slowly in his hand again, studying it with a more focused look.
‘There’s no identification stamp,’ he murmured, frowning thoughtfully. ‘No maker’s mark when usually something like this would carry a signature or initials. It looks oldish… but without a stamp, there’s no telling how old or who made it.’
He gently tapped the side of the case with his thumb.
‘There are only a handful of clockmakers who could have produced something like this. The craftsmanship is too precise, too delicate. You don’t learn to do this kind of work unless you were trained by the best.’
He paused, then continued, thinking aloud. ‘Maybe someone from Northbridge Clockmakers? They were known for jewel-set pieces… Or one of the old Westhaven Horologists, the family workshop that specialised in pocket watches with diamonds? There were also the Rochester Makers with their tiny workshop. Their finishing ability was incredible.’ He glanced up at her, the watch still resting in his palm. ‘A piece like this… it definitely didn’t come from a market stall or a random jeweller. Whoever made it knew exactly what they were doing. Honestly, I’d get it valued.’
Pippa took a closer look. ‘I will.’
‘You said it belonged to your grandfather?’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Was it ever mentioned where he bought it?’
‘Not to me, but I can ask, my dad might know. My grandfather is in a care home. Dementia. Some good days, some bad.’
‘I’d love to know who made it.’ He placed it back on the table.
‘What do you think of this place?’ she asked, looking around the living room.
‘I love it; it’s quirky and full of character. I know we’re in the middle of July, but given it’s grey and miserable out there, how about I light the fire? I love a real fire.’
‘Me too.’
‘I’ll get it going.’
Pippa lingered by the doorway, watching as he rolled up his sleeves and began to layer kindling that he took from the basket next to the fire. She noticed the concentration in his brow, the way he seemed at home in the cottage. She would love to live in a cosy place like this. Rob’s flat had always felt… temporary. It was tasteful but sterile, like it had been staged for a magazine shoot rather than to be lived in. She’d told herself she liked the clean lines, the monochrome cushions, but this was how she’d always imagined home would look and feel.
Theo didn’t look up, but he somehow knew what she was up to. ‘You’re watching me.’
She crossed her arms. ‘I’m admiring your kindling technique.’
He struck a match, a slow smirk tugging at his mouth. ‘It’s one of my many hidden talents.’
‘Can you believe we’re going to be rained in together?’
He looked over his shoulder and shook his head while smiling.
‘A couple of days with me and you’ll be wishing it was forever,’ she joked.
‘The universe clearly thought I hadn’t suffered enough this lifetime.’
Pippa laughed. ‘Don’t be cheeky! And how have you suffered? Doctor Blake has everything going for him,’ she shouted as she returned to the kitchen to make the coffee.
Two minutes later, she sat down on the sofa, pulling her knees up under her.
‘Do you reckon Agatha used to sit and watch Walter light the fire like this?’ she said, watching him work.
Theo didn’t look up straightaway. ‘Probably.’
‘I can’t believe we’re actually sitting in the Vales’ family home. It’s surreal. I wonder if Horace has driven past and taken a look at the cottage while he’s on the island?’
