48
He stretched out his hand toward her. Ella didn’t know exactly what he wanted for a moment. She just stared at him. The tips of his fingers twitched. He expected something from her. She reached for her short pockets. The front right pocket was still sealed shut with the dried blood of her own offering. Her left hand plunged into the other and came out clasping the watch.
“How did you come by this, girl?” He asked.
“It was a gift,” Conor saw the girl reply. Saw the girl lie - mistake - he thought.
“It is a beautiful gift; whoever gave it must have loved you greatly,” the man replied softly.
“Yes, he did, it was my father's.”
The man's hand was still outstretched. Conor thought how this hand that had thrown with seeming ease the very flesh that covered their father's skull onto a fire was now white-knuckled as she wrestled to give up this watch.
“The watch, Ella.” Conor could tell this was an impatient man who had done much too much waiting. She let go and the watch fell into his hand. He palmed it, turned it over and looked at the exposed back that showed the entire mechanism inside. He traced the lines of cogs and wheels within it for a moment. “Thank you,” he said quietly before turning back to Conor.
“Would you like me to tell him how you came by the watch, girl? Or will you?” Ella opened her mouth to protest before seeing on the faces of both man and boy that she’d convinced no one of the gift.
“I told you, Conor, that I’d seen the sisters the day they went missing. Seen them pass through their field and into the woods across the field from our oak. I went to visit Mr Armitage when he arrived back from America, as I was passing through the gardens to his house I watched him approach the rear of Number Seven. He was banging on the door, screaming for our neighbour to let him in. I’d never seen him like it, Conor. He looked small. Eventually the door opened and Mr Armitage crashed in, pulling the man down with him to the floor as he wept. Jesus, he was wailing. It was dark out so I made my way closer. Easy enough to hide in that garden even back then. By the time I approached the door I could see that the two of them had made it out of the doorway and off to some lounge. I’d never been in that house. For some reason, here, with the door open I felt desperate. There was something in there, Conor.”
Her eyes flickered for a moment as Conor saw her tense up as her body relived the moment into Number Seven, quiet and unseen.
“The two of them were pre-occupied, God - Mr Armitage like that - it was so ugly. There were no lights on so I just went in and made my way upstairs. I had no real reason to, I just knew there was something there I wanted. The house is odd, too, not like ours or Mr Armitage’s, or Mrs Careen’s for that matter. Everything encircles these inner rooms, I went into the one upstairs, it was bare but for this pedestal with a case on it. Inside were these nine watches. I saw this one, watched how the second hand just rolls around. I think it’s beautiful. I think it's quite perfect really. So I took it. So what. He had a load of others. I hid behind the door as Mr Armitage went up to use the bathroom. I followed him back down afterwards as he passed by, taking the tea from our neighbour - and Jesus, that man is all kinds of fucking wrong. I moved behind them in the dark and back out the door as they made their way back to sit once more. I swear if you two think this is a big deal that’s really fucking embarrassing.”
The man without eyelids had been watching Conor while his sister had spoken.
“One and the same,” he said.
“What do you mean?” Asked Conor, “I haven’t stolen anything.”
“No, no. Sacrifice and theft. They are one, Conor. Ella gave me your father, but stole him from you.”
Conor saw his brother in his mind then, stood with the tray of breakfast smashed on the floor as he wretched violently. From us, he thought.
“The question of sacrifice is therefore - first and foremost - a question of ownership. It seems only right that you have this, Conor.” He handed him the watch, “It was your father's.”