"Do you like what you see?" she asked, without looking round.
"Very nice," I said.
She smiled at me, radiating warmth, and much later I came to see this as the moment I lost my heart. At the time, though, I only recognised my feelings as those of one intrigued by another person. Roberta and her father had tricked me into accepting fifty a year instead of the promised two hundred, and right then I would gladly have torn up the contract and worked for free as long as I could remain under the same roof.
Then I realised she'd closed the door upon entering my room. Even with the purest of intentions, such behaviour was frowned upon, and I felt a growing alarm as she showed no signs of leaving. If the housekeeper found us enclosed together, I'd be cast out as a rake of the worst sort. Casually, I moved to the door and eased it open, such that my behaviour could not be questioned. Then, as I returned to my former position near the bed, I heard it swing to and close firmly behind me.
"Mr Jones, do you fear I will corrupt you?" called Roberta, from the far end of the room.
"Indeed not, but—"
"Would you behave inappropriately towards me?"
"Never!" I remembered the way she'd advanced on her father, fists clenched. "And, should I be foolish enough to try, I believe you might pitch me through that window."
She laughed. "Then why do you care if the door stands open or not?"
"Society expects—"
"Oh, society can go hang." Roberta left the window, the floorboards creaking gently as she strode towards me. "You and I will be working together, Mr Jones. We shall be facing perils, and dangers, and creatures more foul than those from your darkest nightmares. I cannot have you worrying about the niceties of polite society."
Foul creatures? Dangers and perils? "B—but I thought I was employed to keep your books? The advertisement—"
"You are not the only one who lied about the circumstances." Roberta folded her arms. "We need someone who can work with numbers, yes. But also someone intelligent and loyal. Someone able to keep certain… facts about our business to themselves. I believe you to be that person, and I hope you won't disappoint me."
I looked into her eyes and was surprised to see a raw vulnerability behind the tough exterior. Had someone treated this woman cruelly, or let her down when they were most needed? "I won't," I said gently. "You have my word on it."
"Excellent. Then perhaps you'd care to unpack your things, and I'll inform Mrs Fairacre that we shall have one more for dinner from this day forward."
She left, the door closing automatically behind her, and I was deep in thought as I crossed to the window. This talk of perils and monsters had to be a fancy of some kind, or perhaps a tease. I wanted to dismiss her warnings, but I could still remember the movement of both the cube and the metal disk in my hand, as if the very metal were coming to life.
I looked down and saw a dense, tangled jungle of a back garden, stretching thirty or forty yards in every direction. Opposite was the rear of another house, smaller than the professor's, and a row of similar dwellings stretched away in both directions. These had no gardens, just tiny yards enclosed with brick walls, with a narrow alleyway running the length of the row.
Many of the windows had curtains, but one or two gaped at me, empty and black.
As I gazed upon these lifeless windows, I remembered the curious spectacles the professor had been wearing when I first met him. The ruby lens had been unusual, nothing more, but when I envisioned its sinister, jet-black twin I felt a shiver up my spine.
Suddenly, Roberta's talk of peril and danger didn't seem so fanciful after all, and I wondered exactly what I'd signed up for.
Chapter 4
When I awoke the next morning, sunlight was just starting to peep through the curtains, creating long, intricate patterns on the sloped ceiling above me. I could hear bird calls, and the distant cries of barrow boys, and the clop of horses hauling carts for early-morning deliveries, the iron-shod wheels giving that distinctive rumble. There was also a faint clanking sound I couldn't place, which I put down to a device at the City docks — a winch, most likely.
I'd slept well, although the memories of a curious dream were only just slipping from my mind. The unsuccessful applicants of the day before had been pointing and laughing as I struggled to open a simple pocket watch. The chain had somehow wrapped itself around my neck, and the more I struggled with the watch, the larger, and heavier, and tighter that chain had become. It threatened to choke me, until the professor appeared in the guise of a music-hall magician and tapped his wand on the side of my head. At that point, everything had been sucked into a dark, bottomless hole, leaving me alone and helpless.
I shook myself, dispelling the morbid thoughts, and got up from my bed. There was a nightstand against the wall, and I shaved in a basin of cold water before inspecting my appearance in a small mirror. The mirror was set low, and as I reached out to change the angle I felt a warmth radiating from the wall. Curious, I laid the flat of my hand on the plaster, and was forced to withdraw it quickly as I felt the heat. This was no product of the early morning sun, which was gleaming through the window to my right. In any case, the house was in a terraced row, and this was an interior wall. No, there had to be a chimney behind this wall, and a goodly fire below to stoke such warmth.
I was pleased
