Chapter Three

The divide between the wealthy district of town and the slums was noticeable almost immediately upon reaching the town centre. There was a visible line drawn in the dirt - the freshly cobbled streets ending as cleanly as if a wall had been built between the two halves. These streets trailed off towards freshly painted and overpriced opulence in the direction she had just come from while in the other direction, dirty and broken paths wound through the neglected and impoverished quarter of Portside.

Millie, who had run the length of the vast sweeping lawns of Clancy manor, climbed up the vine covered manor walls and slipped from the property. It was done with well-practiced ease which came from escaping her house one too many times.

Well immersed in her alter ego, Millie pulled the hood to her worn cotton cape further over her head. It did little to keep the drizzle from permeating through her clothes but it at least sheltered her identity. Adding a stoop to her shoulders and her gaze to the ground, she seamlessly slipped into the crowds drifting towards the slums.

Stepping across the divide with a little hop, her eyes darted from side to side. Her tool belt clinked around her waist with each step and her heart skipped a little as she stared at each of the shadows in consideration. There was a palpable fear that hung over Portside – rightly so. But Millie, who often took risks by coming out into the city on her own, did not believe she was impervious to danger like the rest of the rich folks. She would be a fool to believe that she could escape the Ripper if he too sought to steal her heart.

The Ripper… Elaina.

A pang of sorrow struck the Clancy heir in the gut like a strong punch to her stomach. Her brisk pace stumbled for a moment before she blinked back tears and continued onwards with renewed vigour. Elaina would want her to do this. They hadn’t been best friends or even childhood companions but the two of them had formed an alliance as they were often left upon the outskirts of social gatherings. They endured the cutting remarks of their peers together. Or at least they did. Thus, it was with an ache in her heart that Elaina had been hoping her health would improve before the summer months. She had wanted to travel and see the shores of France once more before her ill health left her housebound.

And Elaina knew of Millicent’s dreams to be more than a housewife and mother.

“I’ll live for both of us Elle.” Millie whispered as she slipped past the quiet and shadowed building that was the centremost part of the slums.

Clancy’s Clockworks, the factory that produced her father’s empire and ultimately employed most of the city folk, stood over thirty feet high and was continuously churning black smoke into the sky. The clanking of metal hitting metal sounded loudly through the air accompanied by the soft chatter of the workers. Within that building half of the poorest people of portside were working hard to gain that small income. Those few coins would mean the difference between dinner and going to bed hungry.

“Almost there,” Millie thought to herself as she fought a shiver.

Her hands pulled the cowl tighter around her head while her thick boots clomped over the muddy pathways that were becoming slick with rain. She passed very few people as she wandered through the streets. Most people were either safely at home, looking cautiously at the doorways and windows in fear that the Ripper would stop by their house next, while the rest were working hard within factories and shops.

Taking a sharp left near the west end of Clancy’s, Millie approached a seemingly run down two storey building that looked petite in the shadow of the large factory. Grime coated the bricked exterior, where the windows were almost completely blacked out by the grime. Neglect clung to the building like a second skin and looked like it was in need of some serious care to bring it to a liveable standard. And yet, it was there where one of the wealthiest women in the country made her presence known.

Glancing side to side to ensure no one else was looking; Millie rapped sharply upon the door and waited with bated breath. There were no sounds on the other side and when the seconds drew out for too long, the young woman drooped as the rain continued its assault on her. Then with a clank and a groan, the door was yanked inwards.

Her eyes lit up, a spark that caused her silver irises to glow from beneath her hood. She tilted her head back to glance at the man before her, her lips curled up into a small grin.

“Stretch, step aside so I can get out of this dreadful weather.”

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes peering cautiously into the shadowed alleys and alcoves before turning her attention back to the long and thin man before her.

Used to such demands, the man just grinned, his chin nearly touching his chest as he met her eyes. It was difficult for any man to look down at the Millie Clancy as she was nearing six foot in height but this man before her was almost a giant -- a big friendly giant. With his slim frame, worn clothing and stubble forming on his chin to go with his worn features, Stretch appeared much older than his twenty years.

“Of course Miss Mimi, whatever her ladyship demands.” He bent forth in a mock bow and waved her inside the premises.

Snorting, her eyes rolled as she swiftly squeezed through the narrow opening his body left for her. Millie was quickly overwhelmed by the smell of engine grease and metal polish. They hung heavy in the air, getting stronger and stronger as she followed the narrow hall. Boldly she stepped past two closed doors before she came upon a large open space.

Pausing on the threshold, the young woman closed her eyes and inhaled. Her limbs slowly dropped as the tension eased from her limbs. Pushing back her hood, her eyes hungrily took in the familiar room – her place of salvation.

The building had once been the main factory belonging to her father’s clockworks company. However, as his inventions became more popular, the need for space grew. Millie shrugged her shoulders and discarded her sodden cloak. Her father’s loss was her gain.

Three large work benches took up most of the space. They had been fashioned out of pieces of scrap that she and her two co-workers had collected from the streets of Portside. It still amazed her how many reusable materials people just threw out onto the streets to rot in the abysmal weather - especially when money was so scarce. The bench nearest the door held the beginnings of giant internal clockwork. Each piece had been polished to perfection so that it gleamed even in the low lamplight. It had been designed for the clock tower which was to be the central point in the new town square.

“Innovation,” the mayor had spouted to the townsfolk.

Millie remembered clearly how the man had paused for breath, his hand cradling his fat swollen stomach which was fed by the taxes of hard working people. The same people that he had bestowed a smile upon. It had only just hidden his contempt for the dust covered faces staring eagerly up at him.

“We need to move with the times and Clancy’s will bring about the future of Portside.”

What he hadn’t mentioned in his little speech was that he intended to demolish half of the housing in the poorer quarter of Portside to accommodate the new shopping district. Being the daughter of the main benefactor, Millie knew all too well what was coming. She knew from seeing and speaking to these people what it would mean for them all, to have their entire lives ripped away from them in one fell swoop.  

Her feet drew her towards the table at the furthest end of the room. It was immaculately clean except for the bottle of Lady Aberforth’s Hair Shine and a set of tools. Every item was laid out in a perfectly straight row, not even a millimetre out of place. Millie’s lips were already pulled into a wide grin as she laid her cloak on a rusty nail protruding from the wall behind her worktable.  

She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath before releasing it in a sigh. This was here home. In her shabby clothes surround by dust, dirt and zero expectations was where she belonged.

Stretch, who had wandered off to do his own thing, reappeared a moment later with a steaming kettle and several steel plated cups. They had been hand crafted by her, Stretch and Percy -- her butler. He was the last of their rag tag band of friends and was often know as Cog to those in the slums. His intensive interest in the internal mechanisms of clockworks meant that he had become the odd job man, when anything broke down he would be there with an eager grin and an excited sparkle to his eyes. He knew even more than Millie and she had grown up within her father’s office, watching as he came up with design after design.

“Here we are. Papa Stretch’s infamous hot chocolate.” The lanky man cheered as he set the pot and cups down onto the table. The sweet brown liquid slopped out of the kettle’s spout and pooled out over the desk.  

Scowling at the tall and completely oblivious man, Millie made a big show snatching a rag from the nearest hook and wiping up the mess he left behind,

“Have a sip of that, my mum gave me a new recipe.” He chirped, completely ignoring her ire.

The blonde daintily swiped up the last part of the spillage up before tossing the cloth into the corner of the room. She would deal with it later, she assured herself. Then, folding her arms across her chest, she watched as the skinny man carefully poured the aromatic liquid into the cups. When she made no move to take the drink, he widened his eyes and nudged the cup closer to her.

“Oh stop looking at me like that you impudent fool.” She chastised though she struggled to keep the smile from her face.

“Impudent? I am surprised you even know what that word means. After all, you are just a woman.” He sniffed and tilted his nose to the air.

Throwing a punch at his arm, the blonde let out a chuckle. His impression was so like the men she brushed shoulders with at her father’s soirées that she found it difficult to keep up her grouchy demeanour.

“Fine hand it over.” Grasping the cup she pulled it close and inhaled. “Mmm what did you put in here? Is that mint?”

Taking a sip, her eyes fluttered closed as she relished the taste.

“That’s amazing.” She murmured, her grey eyes fluttering open so that she could stare up at the happy face across from her.

“So have you any ideas what you want to make for the Clockwork Convention yet?”

“No, I want to push the boundaries.” Millie answered as she cradled her cup between her hands. “Everyone will be making automatons which only do minimal functions. Heck, even my father only creates bots that operate on a singular functionary circuit. They can only complete repetitive actions.”

“So you want to make something multi-functioning?”

“No, I want to imitate life. The automaton will have some form of cognitive thought. Not alive but still have some understanding and intelligence.”

Stretch fell back from her as if he had been struck.

“Are you completely crazy? How would be even create something like that? It is not even possible. Is it?”

Millicent, whose idea had leapt from her heart, stilled as she considered the question seriously.

“I don’t know, I have never thought of it before. I just didn’t want to create another stupid automaton to fold my delicate laundry.” Her cheeks turned a dusky rose.

Stretch coughed and spluttered a mouthful of chocolate all over her desk. She then reached behind her and snagged another of her rags, she clucked her tongue disapprovingly as she soaked up the brown droplets once more.

“Think about it. If we manage it, we will all become rich and will be able to finally leave this dump of a town. Well, Cog and I will become rich, you will just become richer.” He sighed, his eyes glazing over as he lost himself in his own little dream world.

“Do you think you could work up the skeleton for the automaton?” Millie questioned, becoming lost to her own thoughts as ideas flitted through her brain. “It needs to be durable so that it can mimic the actions of a person. But don’t forget to add a failsafe.”

The pair shuddered. That was the rule that they had learnt early on in their career as creators of clockworks. There must always be a way to override the automatons – always.

“Right well, I need to finish off the clock.” Stretch rolls his eyes. “I’ll draw up some designs tonight and will get one of my brother’s to drop them over to your house. I am guessing you won’t be able to stay late?”

Millicent shook her head in response as she set aside her cup and brushed down her shirt.

“No, I have to inform my father how it went with the latest suitor.”

“And how did it go?”

Stretch leant forwards on his elbows, his eyes wide with an eager twinkle. Her lips wavered but she soon let out peals of laughter. She paused at the anticipation.

“Oh, don’t get your hopes up. It was nothing compared to the rest. He looks like he would like nothing more than to spend his time running around with the fairies and all of that stuff. He didn’t even smoke normal tobacco -- though that was a small mercy.”

“So does that mean you tortured the poor man like the last one? Or did you give this one a small mercy in return and allow him to leave with his pride intact.”

“Father warned me off.”

That was the only answer he received and, within a minute, Stretch has moved over to his own table with his hot cocoa in hand. The blonde sat there for several minutes, revelling in the fact that she could actually slouch into a more comfortable position thanks to the missing corset before she reached into drawer at her waist. Her hands fumbled about for a few seconds before she drew out several sheets of thick white parchments and her charcoal pen which she utilised often in the planning stages of her inventions.

Instantly her fingers were covered in the black dust but the young woman paid no mind to it, instead her hands were moving rapidly over the paper. She was almost in a trance as she sketched cogs and mechanisms that could potentially be the basis of the multifunctioning automaton.  

Her finger tips smudged the drawing, creating shadow and dimension to her design until the image appeared almost three dimensional. She continued drawing, oblivious to time and her surrounding until finally, with a shake of her head, she sat up and examined her work.

There were smudges of black over her cheeks and her hair had fallen out of its braid and was sticking out at odd angles. She had paused a few times in the middle of her daze, running a frustrated hand through her hair before continuing on. It was worth it though because there on paper she had a design.

Percy, who had finally arrived, approached the table wearing casual slacks and a grubby shirt. Millie would never admit it to him, but she thought these clothes suited him better than the butler attire he had to wear during his employ at Clancy manor. Seeing her emerge from her trance, he smiled and settled on the edge of her desk before sliding her masterpiece towards him.

“What are you...? This is incredible.” He lifted the paper from the desk and held it so close to his face that the charcoal rubbed off onto his nose. “If you are right about this, it could revolutionise the way that we see clockworks. You would replace your father as the mastermind of clockworks.”

Percy lowered the paper enough so that he could shoot her a cheeky grin over the top before resuming his perusal. Millie sat there and chewed her lips as she waited for a verdict. She may have had the inventive and creative side which could come up with numerous possibilities, but Percy was the one who could tell if it could work – most times. Occasionally even he was unsure of the possibilities.

“It might just be possible,” He whispered, raising his brown eyes to meet her grey ones. “We will have to make one to see. When did you want to start?”

His eyes were now twinkling and the young blonde could see the excitement and enthusiasm building within him.

“As much as I would love to, we can’t tonight. Father would lose his head if I was not there to play dutiful daughter at dinner.”

Percy immediately pouted and batted his lashes at his friend who only snorted in response.

“I promise we can work on it tomorrow. Father is visiting Sir Henry about business so we can start in the morning and go to the Nikko’s party. I want to see what he’s got up his sleeve and his sister promised me that she would have my new boots ready by then.” Millicent let a dreamy smile plaster itself over her face.

There were two things that the young woman loved in life, clockworks and clothes. She could appreciate the look of a corset and the effect that it gave but it didn’t mean she liked wearing it.

Fingers snapping in front of her face brought her back to the present. Percy flicked his shaggy brown hair from his face with a toss of his head. His lips were pressed into a thin line to keep from laughing. He knew her obsessions too well and he also knew the temper he could arouse in the youngest Clancy if he should laugh at her.

“Sorry Cogs, will you help me with the casting tomorrow? You’re always better at the pouring and billowing with those big strong muscles of yours.”

Leaning across the table so that she could lay a hand upon his arm, the young woman was so close to her friend that she could feel his breath fanning across her face. He balked at the sudden closeness but then let loose a belly chuckling laugh when she proceeded to flutter her lashes at him like some coquettish society girl.

“Mimi, I didn’t realise you appreciated all that I have to offer. If I didn’t think that you would prefer to remain a spinster for the rest of your life, I would have thought that Miss Clancy herself was begging for a proposal.”

“Be quiet cogs or I might just make you.” She dusted off the table and replaced her things back in her drawer before reaching across to grasp Aberforth’s hair shine. Giving it a shake, the can gave a feeble slosh before she returned it to the table. “I will pick up some supplies tomorrow as well. Do you need me to get anything with my vast bags of money?”

“No, just get home before it starts to get dark. Actually, give me a minute to speak with Stretch and I will walk you home. The streets aren’t safe you know.”

His light-hearted comments held gravity and for once Millie did not protest his offer as an escort. The paper that morning had shaken her up and she did not want to be the next victim. She was rather attached to her life and did not intend to forfeit it in the near future unless God came along and took it for himself.

Nodding her head, the man-boy rushed away to talk with Stretch while she finished tidying her space. Her grin, which had been there moments before, slipped away quickly and she felt emptiness in her stomach. She ran her hands along the desk, longing evident in her eyes. If she had been born to someone else, raised somewhere else, she might have been able to remain here and work on clockworks to her heart’s content.

But she wasn’t. She was her father’s daughter, she was expected to get married within a year and be a mother before her teen years were through. Millie was grateful for what she did have, for the lifestyle she had been brought up in but that would never stop her longing for what she didn’t.

“Come on let’s go.”

Percy startled her out of her thoughts but held his hand out to her and softened his features into a mask of sympathy when he noticed her reluctance.

“As you said, we will be back tomorrow and we can test your theory. If it works, you will make us all very rich, -- well you will just get more wealthy and desirable while stretch and I will be able to afford houses on the nice part of town.” He stopped talking when he noted the girl’s guilty look.

“Don’t even think about it. You can’t feel guilty for being rich just like I won’t be ashamed for being poor. You just have to accept it and do the best with what you have. Isn’t that what my mum used to always say, when life gives you apples make an apple pie or something equally ridiculous?”

Miss Clancy snorted and allowed herself to grin.

“She always did like to use food as an example.” With a sigh, she double checked everything before walking around the table and looping her arm through his. “Come on, you can tell me about who you are courting now? I hope it’s not Sally, I heard she was trying to trap you into marriage somehow, something about beautiful babies?”

The pair waved to Stretch who now had a pair of goggles on his head and was too busy measuring up sheets of metal to even notice their exit. Still he gave a noncommittal grunt and continued with his task. They knew from experience that he would not leave until it was almost dawn. Stretch often became too involved with his projects and would work three days straight if he didn’t have people checking up on him all of the time.

Still, they made sure there was a fresh pot of water bubbling away on the stove and that the wood burner was stoked before the two stepped out into the late afternoon air and headed back for Clancy manor.