Satisfied with this appraisal, Larkin laughed.
“What enchantment would you like me to lay upon her?” Dennis asked.
Larkin had already been considering the matter while he worked.
“Determined Perseverance.” He believed such an enchantment would suit her weight and rigidity as well as his own endeavours on the eyot. Still, with Dennis’s question he no longer felt like laughing. It shouldn’t be Dennis laying the enchantment. Larkin should be permitted to do so himself.
*
Shortly after seven that evening, Larkin finished work for the weekend. As usual he stepped into the paternoster alone; except, instead of travelling all the way down, he hopped out on the second floor. The lights were off there, as the architects had already left. But there was some illumination from the glass ceiling above. The half-constructed wooden houses, which lay all about, resembled a moonlit village.
Larkin could see, from below, the Sorcerers’ workroom. He walked between the cottages and mansions, trying to find the best vantage, before standing on a drafting stool to gain height. This gave him a partial view of Dennis, at his small work table, handling the iron doll. Dennis dampened a cloth and swabbed the doll’s back. He brought the doll close to his face – as if to sniff it, or kiss it.
At that moment, the door opened behind Larkin with a rasp. He didn’t stir – as if lack of movement could trick the onlooker into thinking he wasn’t really there. Above him, Dennis shuffled his feet, scraped back his chair and made for the stockroom.
Only then did Larkin turn, to see his captor. Persephone was staring at him from the doorway. She wore a black coat with a plush collar. In her hand was a magnetic jig, which the men used during dolls’ house making to hold small pieces in place. Swiftly she hid the jig behind her back. Her gaze flickered from him, to the glass ceiling above, and back again.
Larkin stepped down from the stool – boldly, to convey nothing in his behaviour was worth challenging. Neither of them spoke, and she didn’t stop him when he made for the paternoster.
*
By the time Larkin reached the Eyot Tavern, he had persuaded himself he was in the clear. He would face no consequences for peeking when he shouldn’t – for what had Persephone witnessed, after all? Merely Larkin on the wrong floor after closing, which there could be any number of reasonable explanations for, once he’d given it some thought.
The Tavern had an ornate interior, rather than the rustic aesthetic favoured by the pubs in central Oxford; red flock walls, gilt light fittings, and a ceiling heavy with Lincrusta. The building was very tall with rooms to let, including Larkin’s own utilitarian lodgings, however the bar room was narrow, which quickly created the impression of a packed venue. That night it was busy with weekend celebrants. Yet Larkin sat alone for half an hour; which reflected, no doubt, his status as an outsider.
Just as he contemplated retiring to his room, Persephone entered the bar. Despite the lack of connectivity, Larkin took out his phone and scrolled through some old messages, as that seemed less suggestive of guilt than staring in Persephone’s direction.
She approached the table a few minutes later with a half of stout. She placed it before Larkin and sat on the velour stool opposite. This was, for Persephone, remarkably conciliatory, though she didn’t bother with any other niceties such as saying hello.
Instead, she stated: “You have to follow Conrad’s rules.”
“I’m sorry?” Larkin feigned incomprehension.
“Stop pretending. You know what I’m talking about. Conrad said you can’t learn anything about enchantments yet. If you play spies, eventually you’ll get into trouble.”
A cheer rose on the opposite side of the room. Larkin looked across, to see a group of interior designers crowing over Jenga blocks. Persephone awaited his response.
“You’re right,” Larkin gave in, and it wasn’t wholly appeasement. He intended to be obedient now; the risk of being expelled simply wasn’t worth finding out the enchantments sooner. He’d win them by demonstrating his value to the company, even if it took longer. That was what he’d learnt from his scare – provided his superiors were lenient this time. “You know I didn’t actually see anything?”
“Yes. I arrived in time.”
“Have you told Alastair yet?”
“Alastair doesn’t need to know. I’d land myself in it, too. So we’re agreed? Neither of us says anything about it again, and you’ll be more careful.”
He didn’t understand why Persephone would be punished for his misdemeanour. Then he recollected the way she had hidden the jig behind her back and realised that she wasn’t meant to be on the second floor any more than he was. She didn’t have permission to take the jig. Why she would want it was beyond him. She was a puzzle. He had thought so at their first meeting in the shop, since when they had barely exchanged words. She didn’t really speak with anyone at Kendricks, though she occasionally growled at them.
“I should have thanked you,” he said now. “For arranging the initial meeting with Conrad.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t have any influence over Conrad. He must have thought you were good, to give you a job.”
“But I couldn’t get to him without your say-so.”
“No, all right – you couldn’t, I suppose.”
“I hope my coat buttons were useful.” Larkin paused, to allow her to clarify her need of them, but she said nothing; so he prompted, “You sew, I take it?”
“What difference does it make?”
He laughed nervously. “I don’t really have an answer to that.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to – I didn’t want to be rude.” A blush rose on her neck. “I just liked the buttons’ shape and size. It made them suitable for a project I’m working on.”
He sipped some of the stout. “You didn’t buy yourself a drink. Shall I get you one?”
“No. I don’t like alcohol.”
“A soft drink, then. I feel bad; people can see you sitting there without one. They’ll assume I’m ungallant.”
“I see. I didn’t think. I’m not thirsty at all. An orange juice is fine, if you really want to buy something, and don’t mind me leaving it.”
The queue at the bar was several people deep. He half expected Persephone to have left by the time he returned, due to her lack of social graces, but she was still where he had left her. She had taken off her coat, which indicated a willingness to stay for a while. He was glad of it. They shared a secret now, bound by their mutual desire not to get caught by Alastair. And that made them allies.
7
Three young women sat together in the snug, adjacent to the public bar: pink-haired Daisy Gilman; Imogen Strange, a freckled girl with chestnut curls who had been mute since infancy; and Hedwig, their implicit leader.
They’d gathered to make Venetian masks, in preparation for the yearly masquerade. The celebration, scheduled for the following weekend, took place in Conrad’s house, and was an opportunity to bid the autumn farewell. Everyone approached by rowing boat, with lanterns aloft, if river levels permitted. Other than their masks, the guests dressed unfussily – the women wore dark gowns, the men vicuna frock coats – as the ground was often boggy in October. Games and bonfires were the evening’s chief attractions.