The Clockmaker's apprentice

Albert didn't mean to cause any harm by fixing his master's pocket watch. He didn't realise the clock repair skills included the ability to reverse time. He only did it was because he was angry that Mr Chivers treated him no better than a stray dog-being hurled scraps from the table or potato and carrot peelings from the kitchen, having to drink rain water that he collected in a tin on the window sill because he was forbidden from taking tap water, and having to sleep on the larder floor amongst the rats with nothing but a hessian sack to keep him warm. It hadn't always been that way though and that was what made it all the harder to cope with. But a year ago Mr Chivers's wife was brutally murdered and the police's inability to catch her killer had left him a broken and bitter man. He had lost the love of his life and with it he lost his purpose in life. Everything changed. Instead of being generous he became miserly, hoarding his cash and then lavishly spending it on himself. He kicked Albert out of his quarters and turned the room into his dressing chamber, ordering Albert to sleep in the larder or outside in the street. Albert felt sorry for him, but at the same time was angry at the way he was behaving. Albert felt he deserved better. He wanted to show the old man that if it wasn't for Albert, with his much keener eyesight and nimbler fingers, there wouldn't be a business to support his master's new spendthrift nature. There would be no more weekly visits to the tailor for fittings for new coats and suits and cravats, no trips to the milliners for new hats, or the cordwainers for new shoes, and no extravagant trips to the theatre at which to brag about his wealth and flatter any lady that crossed his path.
So one night, when Mr Chivers was fast asleep, in his hand carved four post bed, Albert crept up the stairs and swiped his master's pocket watch from the bedside table. All night Albert worked on the mechanism under candlelight, fiddling with the mainspring, the gear train, the balance wheels and the jewels until he finally managed to get the watch to run backwards. Then he carefully replaced the backing and returned the watch to his master's chamber.
When Albert woke the next morning and took his master's tea to his chamber he got such a shock he almost dropped the tray. He was expecting Mr Chivers to be bemused and frustrated at his malfunctioning watch but what he saw was Mr Chivers doing everything in reverse. He walked round the bed backwards, pulling down his pyjama bottoms and throwing his pyjama top into a neatly folded pile in his draw. Then the shirt and waistcoat he had on the night before flew through the air from off his chair and slid onto his body, his breeches slid up his legs and his boots appeared to get sucked onto his feet from across the room. Albert looked on agast. He placed the tea tray onto the dresser and looked across at Mr Chivers.
"Are you alright, sir?"Albert asked sheepishly.
"!yob em rewsna, llew"
Albert scratched his head, trying to understand what his master had said. Was he speaking a new language as well as acting oddly?
"?thgin fo emit siht ta ereh gniod uoy era tahw" asked Mr Chivers.
Albert struggled for something to say but rather than provide a response he wasn't sure his master would understand he simply picked up the tray and exited the chamber. It was only when he was sat at the kitchen table, with the steaming teapot in front of him, pondering the strange turn of events that he realised what had happened.
"I not only put his watch in reverse, I put him in reverse as well. And he's talking in reverse too," Albert gasped. "Oh my, what have I done?"
At the moment Mr Chivers appeared at the doorway of the kitchen and said something incomprehensible whilst pointing at the sunrise outside the window and then backed straight out again.
Albert heard the click of the front door of his master's shop and then the tap, tap of his boots on the cobbles outside.
"Where was he last night?" said Albert to himself. "The theatre!"
Albert grabbed his tattered overcoat and ran outside after his master. He expected the rest of the world to be turning in reverse too but was relieved, to discover it wasn't. Mrs Beets the baker was opening up her shop, William the grocer was stocking his stall with fruits and vegetables, and Mr Staines the Haberdasher was hanging length of plush fabric outside his shop window. None of them appeared to have noticed Mr Chivers walking backwards down Whitechapel Lane. He was sure if they had they wouldn't be busying themselves with preparations for the day's work ahead, they'd be doing what Albert was doing; pursuing Mr Chivers down to Whitechapel Theatre.
But when Albert arrived at the theatre he couldn't find his master.
"You haven't seen Mr Chivers at all have you?" Albert asked awkwardly.
The ticket teller, who had a bemused look on her face, pointed toward the auditorium. Albert opened the doors and looked inside. He'd never been in a theatre before and was instantly distracted by the opulence of the building. There was gilding and plush red velvet as far as his eyes could see, and there sat in the middle of the stalls was Mr Chivers. Albert stood in the aisle awkwardly. He didn't know what to do. He was sure if his master saw him there he would scold him. So Albert nestled down into one of the seats and waited to see what Mr Chivers would do. Albert sat there for two whole hours watching Mr Chivers do nothing. Mr Chivers didn't even seem alarmed that nothing was going on on stage. Then when his pocket watch struck ten Mr Chivers got up and backed out of the theatre.
By the time Albert returned to the Clockmaker's every shopkeeper on the street was alerted to the Mr Chiver's bizarre behaviour. They spent most of the day idly gossiping amongst themselves between serving their own customers. Albert was at a loss as to what to do as the Clockmaker changed from his smart clothes into his work clothes and took to his workshop to 'unrepair' a watch he had fixed the day before. Albert knew what was coming and braced himself.
".esool leehw ecnalab eht tfel ev'uoy, yob sselesU" Mr Chivers yelled. He then smacked Albert across the head, studied the watch and placed it on the shelf.
Albert knew what Mr Chivers had said. He remembered it from the day before-"Useless boy, you've left the balance wheel loose."
He knew he hadn't left it loose. Mr Chivers was looking for a reason to give Albert a slap and when he couldn't find one he made one up.
That night, when Mr Chivers had eaten his breakfast and backed into bed, Albert snatched the pocket watch again and tried to undo what he had done. But as he stared at the watch with its hands ticking backwards round the clock face he started to think about happier times. He remembered the day when Mr Chivers picked him up from the orphanage as a five year old. Albert was scruffy and dirty with threadbare rags hanging off his bony little body. But when Mr Chivers took him home he and his wife gave him a nice bath, filled his stomach with roasted meats and steaming vegetables and bought him a smart shirt, woollen trousers, a cap, a pair of black boots and some thick socks. Albert had never felt such luxury as socks. They made his feet feel like they were wrapped up in a warm sunny day. He could hardly believe his luck. On that first night Albert stayed awake all night, afraid that if he went to sleep he'd wake up and discover his new life was only a dream. Luckily it wasn't.
Mr Chivers wasn't just generous to Albert, though, he was generous to anyone in need. He never spent much money on himself or his wife (not that she wanted him to anyway). He preferred to give his money to charities to help the sick and the poor. It gave him comfort and joy. But that all changed that fateful night when his wife snuck out to buy her husband the scarf he had admired for christmas. Albert wished he could go back and make everything alright again. That was when it hit him. He could do just that. He'd already started. Mr Chivers was living his life in reverse. All Albert had to do was wait. Albert closed the pocket watch and put it back on Mr Chiver's bedside table.
Over the months that passed Albert's life was busier than he ever imagined it would be. Every waking moment Albert spent re-repairing all the pocket watches, cuckoo clocks and grandfather clocks he had repaired once before and that Mr Chivers then unrepaired. If it wasn't challenging enough for Albert to explain to bemused customers who suddenly found themselves back in Mr Chiver's shop picking up time pieces they were sure they'd collected some time ago, he found it especially tricky to adapt to Mr Chivers's backward speech. He got used to it soon enough though and was even able to converse a little with Mr Chivers.
After months of work and fending off comments from fellow shopkeepers in the street that Mr Chivers's shop was cursed by some devil work, time had turned back to the day before Mrs Chivers disappeared.
Whilst Mr Chivers was bathing backwards, the soap magically sliding off his skin and onto the bar, Albert took ten pounds from the shop till and dashed outside. He scuttled over the cobbled streets and turned down into Ruby Lane where Silby's the scarf merchant had a lavish collection of imported silks and chiffons. Albert stepped inside and pulled the blue and yellow striped silk scarf that Mr Chivers admired off the rack, and handed over his money. Mr Silby, the shopkeeper gave Albert a suspicious glare, seemingly curious as to why a young lad, not particularly well dressed, was in possession of ten pounds cash.
"I'm on an errand for Mr Chivers," Albert said.
Mr Silby gave him a nod, bagged the scarf and gave him two shillings change.

That night Albert leant over the counter of the shop and waited. He wasn't sure if his wish would come true; if she would really walk back through that door. But he had to hope.
Then just as morning broke there was a tinkle at the door that jerked Albert awake. The bell on the door had rung and there backing into the shop was Mrs Chivers with a childlike, mischievous grin on her face. Albert was so happy he thought his insides were going to explode. But now that he had set his world right he had to fix what he had started.
Whilst Mr Chivers was preoccupied with unmaking a pot of tea, Albert managed to snatch Mr Chivers's pocket watch and hurriedly set to work fixing the mischief he himself had created a year ago. Whilst out of sight he snuck into the workshop and under candlelight once more fiddled with the gears and springs and dropped the watch back into Mr Chivers's coat pocket. All he could do now, once again, was wait and hope.
The following morning Albert was woken with a start by Mrs Chivers gently rocking him.
"Albert, what are you doing sleeping on the larder floor?" she asked softly.
Albert looked up at her and smiled the biggest smile he could muster, so big it almost cut his head in two.
He leapt up and threw his arms around Mrs Chivers.
"I love you. Please don't leave," he begged, as tears began to pour down his face.
"I'm not going to leave," she said as she pulled him away and wiped his cheeks with her apron.
"I have something for you," Albert said and ran to the cupboard where he stashed the scarf.
"I know you wanted to get it for Mr Chivers so I went and bought it for you, to save you going out for it," Albert said. "I hope you don't mind."
Mrs Chivers opened the bag and laughed. "How did you know?"
Albert never considered she would ask him that. Fortunately he had become adept at coming up with convincing answers in a hurry and so simply replied.
"Let's just say I'm a little psychic."