Heart key and padlock with chain

The gentleman who came into the shop on Tuesday wanted a lock that could only be opened by one key, and he wanted the key to say LOVE across its bow, as if the word needed stamping on something. I told him a lock is only as honest as the person holding its key. He laughed and paid in advance, which I took as proof he had never lost anything he cared about.

I cast the padlock in the back room while the rain came off the harbour wall. Heart-shaped, with a keyhole like a closed eye. I filed the shackle three times because it kept binding, and Mr Fenwick from the chandlery said that was the metal telling me it did not want to be shut. I did not answer him. Work goes easier when you stop arguing with the metal.

Today the woman came for it. She did not take the key. She looked at the padlock on my bench for a long time, then asked me to thread the chain through a loop on her bag strap and snap the lock closed. Then she asked me to drop the key down the drain. I did not. It is in the drawer under the file set, wrapped in a bit of chamois. If the two of them ever come looking for each other, you will know where it is kept.