The Clockwork Heart Page 3

  "Are you all right?" asked Libby. The car slowed down. No, don't slow down. But Helen couldn't talk as a wave of nausea flowed over her. Libby glanced at Helen. "I hope you weren't too bored waiting for me."

  Think of the pool … wrapping my arms around Libby's naked body. The feeling of car sickness began to dissipate, enough for her to finally answer. "No. I had people to talk to."

  "The locals are friendly around here." Libby paused as she directed the steamcar around a sharp bend. "Sometimes too friendly. I hope they didn't harass you."

  Helen laughed. She knew exactly what Libby meant. She hadn't been harassed, as such, but that was more because she didn't mind talking to strangers and she enjoyed being out of the house for a change. "They were very curious to know what you were up to and kept asking what line of work you were in. Apparently they think you a woman of mystery, which is driving them crazy. They want to know more about you."

  "I hope you didn't set the grapevine on fire," said Libby.

  "Oh, I probably did." Helen paused. "Sorry, I hope not. I have a habit of talking too much sometimes." And since she'd been alone for so long with only automatons for conversation, she knew with a twist of her stomach that she had probably said too much.

  "Never mind." Libby's voice was sharp.

  "I just mentioned you had been on some interesting adventures. There's nothing wrong with that because it's the truth."

  Libby sighed and turned the car into her long driveway. "It's more than just adventures."

  "I know. Well, I guessed, but I didn't tell them that." Helen looked at Libby. "Look. They were polite, not nosey." Helen paused as she thought over the conversations she had over the afternoon. "Except one woman."

  "Who?" asked Libby with a force causing Helen to jump.

  "I can't remember her name. Come to think of it I don't think she even gave it to me." It had been difficult at first because she hadn't been feeling well, but after a pot of strong English Breakfast Tea she had recovered. "Don't worry, I only talked about myself with her."

  "Bugger." Libby slammed her hand on the steering wheel as she bought the steamcar to a halt in front of the house. "It has to be her."

  "Who?" The thoughts of there being another woman resurfaced in Helen's mind. "Is there someone else?"

  "No. It's not like that." Libby turned to Helen. "It's just… someone…"

  Helen waited patiently for Libby to finish. She knew that something terrible had happened to Libby. Something that had caused her to shut down when her career of artefact collecting had only just begun. But she didn't know the details. She wanted to know them, and she looked into Libby's eyes, hoping she would finally open up.

  "I guess… you would say… my nemesis."

  Helen's eyes widened with alarm. She swallowed hard, trying to process what Libby had said. Richie walked up to the steamcar. "Ma'am there's a phone call for you." Helen jumped as the automaton spoke. Its voice shattered the opportunity to ask more questions as it stood by the driver's door.

  Libby turned away. "Right. Richie put the car away."

  "What about…?" asked Helen.

  Libby glanced back at Helen. "This won't take long. I promised you a swim. Meet you down at the pond."

  At least something is going right. She tried not to hope too much. Helen smiled. Things were delicate between them, and it might or might not develop into a relationship. One step at a time. She got out of the car as Libby rushed up the front steps into the house.

  Helen turned in the opposite direction. Her boots crunched on the loose stones as she walked across the driveway to the garden. She was very familiar with the garden. She had meandered here for hours between training sessions hoping to bump into Libby.

  Making her way towards the pond, Helen hoped Libby would be joining her soon. She could tell Libby was distracted. Something had happened that had rattled Libby's nerves and Helen felt powerless about the situation. Without knowing what was the cause she couldn't help, and she dearly wanted to help.

  Helen peeled off her white gloves and loosened her hat. The afternoon was beginning to cool, which was a relief. The Australian heat was strong compared to what she had grown up with in London. She undid her outer corset, peeled the heavy material away from her torso and dropped it on the ground.

  Kicking off her boots, she buried her stocking-clad feet into the soft grass. Helen sighed as coolness seeped up through the bottom of her feet. Helen took a turn around the pond. Kookaburras laughed in the surrounding trees. The longer she waited the more she thought that Libby wasn't going to come down and meet her. I'm sure she has a good excuse, Helen told herself. Disappointment swirled inside of her.

  Of course it was too much to expect that anything would happen between us so quickly after such an odd day. She took another turn around the pond, almost tempted to undress and jump in without Libby. But she didn't want to end up alone in the water because she wasn't a good swimmer.

  Helen kept walking around the pond. It kept her mind distracted from thinking whether or not Libby would really come to her. On the third turn, something on the ground caught her attention. She bent down and picked up the piece of parchment. A red lip mark caused her heart to pound harder. Libby sent a note for me. She hasn't forgotten me. Helen pressed the parchment to her lips. Libby. She sighed. There was so much potential to explore with Libby and she was losing patience.

  Dizziness welled inside of her. Stupid car sickness. But it wasn't that. It was something else. She could feel herself falling into darkness and couldn't stop herself. The parchment fluttered from her hand like a dried leaf falling from a tree and rested on the grass beside her. Unconsciousness claimed her quickly and she collapsed into blackness.

  *~*~*

  Libby hung up the receiver. Scarlett was definitely in Bridgewater. Her contact in Melbourne had confirmed that she'd been on the train to Adelaide earlier in the week. I'm not losing my mind. But she wasn't any closer to finding out why. Maybe she's just toying with me. Scarlett always liked games, and she is the jealous type. Even though Libby wasn't currently in the game of collecting artefacts, Scarlett could still see her as a threat. She hated to think that it could be anything more, such as wanting to rekindle what they had between them. That's never going to happen. Not after what Scarlett had done to her under the influence of the clockwork heart.

  The house was warm and she felt suffocated inside. Helen. She remembered her promise. Bugger. She wanted to find out why Scarlett was here, but she had already exhausted all her resources. A swim will help me forget. She blushed. Excitement shivered along her skin and knotted pleasantly between her thighs. She wanted to pursue Helen, so she pushed Scarlett out of her mind and headed down to the pond. Libby couldn't see Helen anywhere. She found her corset, gloves, hat and boots discarded on the lawn.

  "Helen?" She looked into the pond. Fear pounded through her veins at the thought of Helen trapped under the water. "Helen!" She screamed louder as she stepped up on the side of the pond, ready to jump in. If Helen was under the water it wasn't going to be easy to find her.

  Then she saw it. The parchment. Libby walked to the parchment and picked it up. The lipstick mark was smudged. Her stomach dropped. Scarlett. That woman has done something to Helen. Anxiety twisted in her stomach.

  Libby looked around. There was a small indent in the grass where she assumed Helen had fallen. She crumpled up the paper. Damn her. Part of the turf had been turned up, and there were drag marks heading away from the pond. Libby sprinted, following the imprints down to the back of the garden, then to the front of her property.

  The sound of an engine starting caused her to push faster. She got to the road and saw the back of a steamcar driving away. A cloud of dust bellowed behind it restricting her view.

  "Come back!" she yelled. She stamped her boot into the ground. "Helen!" Libby coughed from inhaling a lungful of dust. Her eyes watered. You better not hurt her. She knew what Scarlett could do. Quick. She turned to rush back to the house to get her own
steamcar. Something caught her eye and she stopped. There by the edge of the road in the long dry grass was an envelope.

  Libby scooped to pick it up. Her hands held it, trembling. She couldn't open it. Instead she rushed back to the house. I'll read the letter later. There was a chance she could follow them, but she had to be quick.

  *~*~*

  Libby had been driving for hours. It was dark now and difficult to see the road. She had managed to work out the general direction the car had gone by following the dust trail, but in the fading light she had lost it. She swore and hit her palm on the steering wheel.

  Why now? Her eyes filled with tears, but she refused to allow herself to cry. She had to find Helen and quickly. She kept driving. The envelope sat next to her on the passenger seat where Helen had been hours earlier. If Scarlett hadn't been in Bridgewater, they would've had their swim, one thing would've hopefully lead to another and they would be sleeping in each other's arms in her bed. Libby glanced to the left but there was no sign of the car. She caught sight of the envelope. It might give me a clue. She ripped open the envelope, holding her breath, unfolded the parchment.

  See you soon. S. xo

  Libby read and re-read the single line. It echoed in her mind. That's it? Libby threw the note aside and took a deep breath. She put hands on the steering wheel. The memories resurfaced. She gripped tighter, her knuckles whitening. The memory came fragmented.

  She was tied to a chair. Scarlett had the clockwork heart around her neck, nestled in her cleavage. Scarlett wanted to play. Libby tasted the blood in her mouth as Scarlett stood over her, laughing.

  "No." She wasn't going to let Scarlett take Helen from her. She put the steamcar into motion. "One more look."

  Libby leaned forward over the steering wheel. The light from the lamps on the steamcar didn't extend far and she strained her eyes looking for any sign this could be the way Scarlett had taken Helen.

  The steamcar chugged and nearly choked because she was driving too slow. Shadows cast down from the eucalyptus tress made it even harder for her to see. A light flickered in the distance. Libby slammed on her brakes. Her heart pounded with a moment of hope she had found something. But only darkness greeted her through the window. The light was gone.

  It was nothing. She released the brake and pushed her foot on the accelerator. Stones cracked against each other under the tyres. She sat upright, close to the steering wheel, peering into the night.

  *~*~*

  Helen stifled a whimper. The jolting motion had stopped. On top of whatever poison she had absorbed on her lips the car sickness had returned. She slowly opened her eyes. All she could see was darkness. Her fear that told her to lay still and not move but she ignored her instincts and extended her arm to feel what was around her.

  The movement caused nausea to flood over her. I have to.

  Her fingers brushed something metal. She extended out her legs. Her muscles protested. She couldn't move much at all. Helen tried to piece together what had happened. Fragments of memory moved around in her head, blurred at the edges, and she couldn't tell what had actually happened and what hadn't.

  A jolt caused her to hit her head on a metal object. Pain shot through her and she slipped back into darkness.

  *~*~*

  Libby's head pounded with stress as she continued driving along the road. It's taking too long. Her eyes were sore, making it hard to see into the darkness beyond the light beams from the car. A tawny frog-mouth owl flew past her windscreen. She turned the wheel quickly to avoid hitting the bird and she released her foot from the accelerator. The steamcar coughed, spluttered, and then went silent.

  "Great," mumbled Libby. Her hands shook, and her heart pumped so hard it was surely going to explode. She had failed Helen. Failed herself. And worse. I've let Scarlett win.

  Hot tears streamed down her face. I'm not giving up. Libby went to start the steamcar. Please start. The last thing Libby wanted to do right now was to get out to stoke the internal fire.

  The engine rumbled with life. Libby sank back in her seat in relief, waiting for the engine to settle into a continuous hum. Libby released the brake and the steamcar rolled forward as she continued her search. Libby looked out at the Teatree branches waving back at her, moving with the evening breeze. Then she saw it. A light. She looked at the ground for any other signs.

  Two wheel tracks between the bushes.

  Her pulse momentarily stopped as she got out of the car to have a closer look to ensure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. There were no tricks. There were two tyre marks and they were fresh. New strength surged through her body. I can rescue Helen. I can defeat Scarlett.

  With renewed purpose, Libby jumped back into the steamcar and followed the tracks. "Gotcha this time Scarlett."

  *~*~*

  "Wakey, wakey."

  A sharp voice tormented her, setting her head pounding, which in turn sent lightening-like pain bolting through her body. Helen whimpered as the sound pulled her from the safety of unconsciousness. She was sitting on a chair. An uncomfortable chair. Helen tried to move but there were ropes tied securely around her waist.

  "I would have thought you were made of stronger stuff than this, Helen."

  The voice was familiar. Helen's eyes fluttered open and she saw a slender woman standing in front of her, holding a horse whip. The woman wore a red ruffled dress, secured close to her body with a brown leather corset that was decorated with fine brass chains. Her legs were covered in black tights that disappeared into black knee-high boots.

  "That's better."

  It was the women she'd been talking to earlier that day. The woman Libby knew. It has to be. Helen's blood began to boil. She tried to speak but her tongue was numb and swollen. The words were lost before being spoken. She wasn't going to let this woman get Libby.

  "Do you want to continue our conversation?" Scarlett asked, hitting the handle of the whip softly in the palm of her hand. "I think that could be a good idea."

  Helen forced herself to concentrate. Her mind pounded in time with her heart and it was difficult to think. She glanced around. The room was small and dark, a little damp, and smelled strongly of freshly turned earth.

  "I'm Scarlett." She smiled sinisterly.

  Helen's skin prickled, but she wasn't about to give up. She wriggled in the seat to find out how exactly she was tied up. Rope bit into her ankles. Her hands rested on her lap, secured with more rope. This isn't good.

  She stared at Scarlett, locking eyes with her. Then she slowly moved her wrists. The rope began to loosen, just a little, giving her hope. Scarlett leaned in close to Helen, their noses almost touching. Helen tried to recoil, but Scarlett's hand caught her hair and stopped her.

  "Ah, ah," said Scarlett. "We are going to have a conversation."

  I'm going to have to be careful. This situation was dangerous, but it was what she had trained for. Even so, being in the position for real was different. Here, in a gloomy room, tied up with a crazy woman in front of her, fear coursed through her body, and she struggled to find the nerve to fight back.

  "This conversation isn't going to be like the one we had this afternoon." She pulled back and struck Helen's face with the whip.

  Helen screamed. Tears cascaded down her cheeks as the stinging sensation pulsed on her face. She could feel the warmth of blood oozing from the wound. I have to do this for Libby. Her breath came shallow and fast as Scarlett held up the whip ready to strike again. She moved her wrists again keeping her gaze on Scarlett, looking into the darkness in her eyes. The rope loosened further.

  "Good. I hoped you'd want to answer me." Scarlett stepped back and secured the whip to a belt around her waist. "There's so much more I want to learn." She turned away and walked over to a trolley. She picked up a scalpel. "But really, I want to know more about Elizabeth."

  A shiver shuddered through Helen's body. She moved, wriggling her wrists, ignoring the rubbing of the rope biting into her skin.

  "We are going to ha
ve a little tête-à-tête, with you telling me all about the training you two have been doing." Scarlett put down the scalpel and rolled the trolley of instruments over to Helen. The sounds of the squeaky wheels set Helen's hair on end. "I'm the jealous type."

  Scarlett stopped the trolley next to Helen. "The thing is, I'm not sure what to start with." She held up a blunt piece of shiny metal. "I can be a bit too sharp sometimes." She looked at Scarlett. "Did Libby tell you?"

  Helen's eyes widened. This was definitely the woman who tormented Libby.

  "No? She didn't tell you about me." She faked a sigh of disappointment and put down the tool, then picked up surgical scissors. "I didn't think so, not the way you talked to me this afternoon. I must say I'm very disappointed. Our conversation now would be much more interesting if she had."

  Scarlett stepped in close to Helen. "Shall we get started?" Helen knew that wasn't a question. She recoiled as the scissors came towards her face. "I think we should start with here." Cold metal touched Helen's face and she thrashed about. "Now, now, you'll get your turn to speak, just not in the way you want to." Scarlett teased Helen by touching the scissors along her neck. "Where to start?"

  Helen pulled backwards, but the scissors stayed pressed against her skin. At that moment, the rope fell away from her wrists. She kept her eyes on Scarlett, ignoring the pressure of metal. She reached over to the trolley, slowly. Scarlett was close to her, but she was concentrating on where to start and missed the movement.

  Helen's fingers touched something metal. She grabbed it, hoping that whatever it was it would be enough. She punched the tool into Scarlett's shoulder with as much force as she could. Scarlett reeled back screaming. The scissors fell to the ground. Helen moved quickly, her heart pounding fast as she undid the rope around her feet. Then she turned to the rope around her waist, but she couldn't reach the knot.

  "You'll regret that," screamed Scarlett as she held one hand on the wound. She fumbled at her waist and pulled out her whip.

  Helen looked at the instruments. She saw a knife, grabbed it, and started cutting at the rope holding her down.