The Boy with the Cuckoo-Clock Heart

‘According to Melies, you destroyed your heart in front of Miss Acacia. You wanted to show her how much you were suffering, and at the same time how much you loved her. It was a rash and desperate act. But you were just a boy then – worse, a young man with childish dreams, who survived by muddling dreams and reality.’

‘I still was that childish teenager, until a few minutes ago . . .’

‘No, that stopped when you decided to let go of your old heart. And that’s precisely what Madeleine was frightened of: you growing up.’

The more I repeat the word ‘impossible’, the more ‘possible’ it sounds inside my head.

‘I’m only telling you what I’ve read about you in the book Melies wrote. He gave it to me just before setting off for Paris.’

I open the book again. I read how, while I was sleeping, letters arrived for me from Edinburgh. That Melies wrote to Dr Madeleine to explain everything that had happened. But the letter that came back was penned by Arthur. Then I read the news that, secretly, I had always been half dreading:

The morning that wee Jack left us, Luna, Anna and I returned to the top o’ the mountain to find the door to the house half-open and no one in sight. Madeleine’s workshop was destroyed, ye’d think a storm had just swept thro’ it. All o’ her boxes had been opened and even the cat had gone.

We set off in search o’ Madeleine, finally tracking her down to St Calford’s prison. During the few minutes we had wi’ her, she explained that the police had arrested her just after our departure, but that we shouldnae worry, it wasn’t the first time she’d been banged up, and everything would sort itself out in the end.

I’d like to be able to write that she was released, I’d like to be able to tell ye that she cooks with one hand while mending somebody with the other, and that, even though she misses wee Jack, she’s bearing up. But later that same day Madeleine left us. She set out on a journey from which she’ll never return. She left her body behind in prison and set her heart free.

I know this news will hit wee Jack hard. But, dear Melies, I must ask you to let him know that even in the depths of sadness, he must never forget that he gave Madeleine the joy o’ being a real mother. That was her life’s dream. Ye ken what I mean?

We sent the news by Luna’s pigeon, but when the letter got lost our nerve failed us. Bloody bird! That wee Jack still believed Madeleine to be alive was too much for us to bear, but we weren’t yet strong enough to tell him the truth. And now Jack is also sleeping . . . Och, Melies, I’ll try not to reread this letter, otherwise I might never have the courage to send it to you.

Anna, Luna and I wish wee Jack all the strength he needs to recover from his ordeals, and hope that he will one day understand Madeleine’s – and our – need to shield him from the wicked world.

Arthur

PS—Dinnae forget to sing ‘Oh when the Saints!’ to wee Jack.

Silence.

‘When is Melies coming back?’

‘I don’t think he’ll ever come back. He’s the father of two children now, and he’s working hard on his idea of photography in motion.’

‘A father? How much time has passed to make Melies a father? And for me to have lost my Madeleine- mother?’

‘To start with, he used to write to the two of us every week. Now, whole months can go by without me hearing any news; I think he fears I’ll have to announce . . . your death.’

‘What do you mean, whole months?’

‘It’s the fourth of August, 1892. You’ve been asleep for nearly three years. I know you won’t want to believe that. But just look at yourself in the mirror. Your long hair is a measure of how much time has gone by.’

‘I don’t want to look at anything just now. There’s too much to take in as it is.’

‘During the first three months, you used to open your eyes for a few seconds a day at most. Then one day you woke up and uttered the odd word about Dr Madeleine or Miss Acacia, before returning to your state.’

The mere mention of their names stirs up feelings that are contradictory, but stronger than ever.

‘Since the beginning of the year, your periods of wakefulness have become longer and more regular. Right up until today. People do wake up from long comas like yours. After all, it’s just a very long night of sleep. What an unexpected joy to see you standing on your feet at last. Melies will be beside himself . . . But be warned, you might experience a few after-effects.’

‘Meaning?’

‘No one comes back from such a long journey unscathed; as it is, it’s remarkable you can remember who you are.’

I catch my reflection in the glazed workshop door. Three years. And Dr Madeleine no longer of this world. Three years. I’m one of the living dead. What have you done with these three years, Miss Acacia?

‘Am I really alive, is this a dream, a nightmare, or am I dead?’