by Jenny Kane
Beth came to see what Abi had been working on between all the other things she’d been doing lately. ‘That’s amazing.’
‘Thanks.’ Abi put down her last piece of set dressing, the grey rag she used to blend her colours on the page, and turned to examine the gallery side of the room. ‘It’s all looking fantastic. Can I help with Jacob’s pots?’
Beth smiled. ‘That would be great. For such an easy-going bloke he is so darn anal about his work. You’d think he’d want people to touch them, but he gets all stressy about it.’
‘He gave me the “keep them away from the children” speech again this morning.’
Beth groaned and rolled her eyes, ‘I love the man to bits, but honestly! Pottery is supposed to be touched and used. And how anyone will be able to resist touching his Ali Baba pots next week once they’re on show for a month I don’t know. You wait until you see them in the flesh, as it were. You’ll get no work done. You’ll be popping across the shop to run your hands over them every five minutes.’
Abi had fazed out of what Beth was saying after her first few words. ‘You love Jacob? Already?’
‘Sure. I think I was already in love with his photo before he got here. Then his voice on the phone added to the lust factor. When I met him I knew for sure.’ Understanding why Abi was asking, Beth added, ‘Our situation isn’t the same as you and Max. You can’t compare it, you know.’
‘I know.’
Beth paused to start spreading out plastic cups on a tray, ready to be filled with orange squash, ‘You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?’
‘That obvious?’
‘Actually, no, it isn’t. And of course, Max wouldn’t ever push you for anything because he is too darn nice for his own good sometimes.’
Abi shrugged, ‘That’s just it, you see. It’s my fault. I asked him to go slow, and now I’ve changed my mind. How can I tell him that, when he is going out of his way to be gentle and slow?’
‘Snail pace slow?’
‘You got it. Although actually, he did give me a lovely kiss this morning.’ Abi giggled. ‘When he kisses me he has to lift me off my feet in order to see my eyes at the same time.’
Beth smiled, ‘He’s a man worth waiting for, Abi. Don’t forget, he’s been hurt as well.’
Brushing her hands together decisively, Abi picked up a huge tin of biscuits and sat them next to Beth’s tray. ‘Shall we sort this launch business first, then when Max gets back I’ll just seduce him or something.’
Laughing, Beth said, ‘That’s the spirit! Do you think we’ve got time for a cup of coffee before we go and change into our glad rags? That Felicity woman from Cornwall Life will be here in an hour.’
‘Loads of time. I was just planning to stick my clean jeans on and a nicer top. No point in dressing up for this one, especially as I’ll probably get covered in paint. I’ll do the glamour frock for the official launch.’ Suddenly remembering this was really Beth’s show and not hers, Abi added, ‘If that’s OK?’
‘Sounds just the ticket to me! Come on, let’s go upstairs and draw breath.’
Felicity arrived late, in a flurry of apologies about her car not starting, and then not being able to park. She was followed by a rather shy-looking young man equipped with a camera and posh-looking Dictaphone.
Dressed up to the nines, balancing with enviable ease on killer heels, and without a wrinkle on her exquisitely made-up face, Felicity gushed her way about the gallery as Beth explained the background, her grandfather’s wish that she should take on the shop, and how Abi and her friends had helped her to decide on what to do with the space, Felicity oohed and aahed over the children’s paintings. She was satisfyingly impressed by Abi’s work, and instantly fell in love with Jacob’s mugs and small pots which, ignoring his wishes entirely, Beth had put where she wanted, telling a rather concerned Abi that the place was insured and there was no point in trying to sell anything that no one could see properly.
Mark, the photographer, had just finished taking pictures of the two rather self-conscious women, both of whom were wondering if they should have dressed up more, when the sound of young voices alerted them to the arrival of their young guests and their parents.
Beth had expected Felicity to leave, but she was so charmed by the idea of a family launch rather than the usual ‘little bits of things on sticks’, that she asked to stay, and before long Mark was snapping away at the children standing by their framed pictures, beamingly proud parents by their sides.
Abi hardly had time to breath. The children were fascinated by her drawings, and by the time she had explained the process of how her sketches went from ideas to outlines to paintings and then got transferred onto the computer screen, her voice was hoarse and she was ready for some of the orange squash that Beth was passing around.
‘You ready to read everyone a story then?’
‘What?’ Abi was horrified. ‘Seriously?’
The choruses of approval from the children gave Abi no way to back out, and with a semi-murderous glare at Beth, she picked up the top copy of The Bumble Tumble Monkeys. Sitting on the floor, she immediately found herself surrounded by cross-legged children and several keen parents.
With a flash of encouragement from Beth, who was selling three of Jacob’s pots to Felicity, Abi began to read.
‘The Bumble Tumble Monkeys scrambled through the trees.
“There goes double trouble,” said a voice beneath the leaves …’
Chapter Thirty-seven
Walking into the imposing entrance to Christie’s, the three men took a lot list from the smiling receptionist, and followed her direction to the auction room. Peter was already waiting for them by the entrance to the salesroom. ‘You made it, how wonderful!’ He shook their hands. ‘All set, Mr Abbey?’
‘I certainly am, me’andsome. This is quite an adventure. When does it get going?’
There were a few people already sat down, bidding paddles in their hands, but most people were milling around while they waited.
‘We have about a quarter of an hour until kick off.’ Peter pointed to the side of the room where three booths waited for their occupants. ‘That’s where anyone expecting overseas or private phone bids will sit.’
‘Are we expecting anyone like that tonight?’ Jacob was scanning the growing crowd as if trying to work out which people had money, which were just sightseeing, and which were hoping for a bargain.
‘I hope so, but I’m not sure.’ Peter pointed to a row of seats set off to one side of the main crowd. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I reserved those seats for you. That way you can see everything that is going on, but you won’t get confused with the bidders.’
Stan chuckled. ‘That’s good, I was getting worried about scratching my head or something and making a million-pound bid by mistake!’
The lots moved quickly. The auctioneer was both charismatic and beguiling. It was like watching a magician at work. Max was sure that some of the bidders were only raising their stakes to please the auctioneer and keep the game going for longer.
Stan leaned over and whispered, ‘How far are we down the list? I’ve lost track. It’s all such a whirl.’
Max, who’d been having similar problems, traced his finger down the lots printed on the paper. ‘That was the fifteenth one, I think, so we’re up in five items’ time.’
The atmosphere was electric. Everyone seemed poised to act, and as the men caught each other’s eyes at the same time, the nervous tension in the room increased.
Beth kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the sofa. ‘That was exhausting!’
‘It certainly was. Although it may be some time before I forgive you dropping me in it with a story-telling session! Why didn’t you warn me, then I would have had a practice?’
‘Because if I’d told you what I planned you’d have said no.’
‘This is true.’ Abi poured two large glasses of wine, and pushed one towards Beth. ‘I know we said we’d go out for a meal tonight, but I�
��m so glad we opted for the takeaway option instead. I’m shattered!’ Dividing a generous portion of chicken chow mein onto two plates, Abi stabbed a fork into the top of each haphazard pile of food.
‘Plus, of course, if Max does manage to turn his phone on so we can listen to the bidding in progress, then we’ll hear it much better in here than in the pub.’ Beth checked her watch. ‘Surely their turn must be soon?’
‘Is it us now?’
Stan had stopped looking excited, and was getting anxious. Max patted his arm affectionately. ‘The one after this. Are you ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be! I think it might be time to call the girls.’
Abi’s mobile buzzed with the arrival of a text. She frowned. ‘Max wants me to get my laptop.’
Beth frowned, ‘Whatever for?’
‘He doesn’t say. I hope it’s got enough charge in it, I left the cable downstairs. Can you turn it on while I text him back to tell him we’re getting it?’
‘Is it working?’ Stan stage whispered as Max nodded.
As the picture on Skype came to life, Max and Jacob leaned forward and waved into the video phone screen, with their fingers firmly over their lips to indicate that Abi and Beth should keep quiet.
The girls waved back happily. They were going to be able to see as well as hear the auction in progress after all.
Abi felt the buzz of her mobile again. It was Max.
This was Stan’s idea. He’s gone a bit Skype mad since you introduced him to it! We are up next. Better keep quiet x
Abi flashed the message in front of Beth’s eyes. In mutual unspoken need, both women picked up their wine glasses. As the brown-coated handler lifted up Mary’s Ming vase, the girls grasped each other’s hands for support as the auctioneer announced Lot Twenty.
‘Ladies and gentleman, Christie’s is delighted to be able to offer you a particularly exquisite item this evening. As you’ll see from your brochures, this nineteenth and a half-inch high Ming Dynasty vase comes from the late sixteenth century. A blue and white double-gourd bottle vase, it has a square lower gourd. Decorated all over with a dense lotus scroll, the pattern is divided by ruyi bands. As this item comes from an inland collector there is no import tax to pay, though tax is of course payable should the buyer wish to export this item. If you are all ready, I’d like to start the bidding at £5000 for this beautiful object.’
Abi and Beth exchanged glances of disbelief as the bidding ricocheted into action. There was no hanging about; no dropping of the price to get things going like there always was when these things happened on the television.
Abi wished she could see Stan’s face. She hoped he was alright and that the tension wasn’t too much for him. He might be forever up for adventures, but he was still eighty-eight years old, and she didn’t want him to raise enough money for his family to come and see him, only to be gone before they got here. Heart attacks, she knew all too well, came from nowhere.
The auctioneer was still taking bids. It was clear that there was something about Stan’s vase that appealed to collectors, for the price was still rising by a hundred pounds a bid, and was already at £6900 without any sign of slowing.
Stan’s hand was shaking a little against his stick. Sally and the children could come home for a while now. He had enough money. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from calling out that was plenty, thanks, you can stop now …
‘Did I just imagine that?’ Abi turned the microphone off at her end, so that she could speak to Beth. ‘Did Stan’s vase really just go for £12,200?’
Beth nodded; speechless.
‘I hope Stan’s OK?’
‘I bet he’s thrilled. Oh, look!’
Max had turned his phone around, and the girls could see three broadly beaming faces staring at them. Each man gave them the thumbs up, before the screen abruptly went blank.
‘Oh my goodness! If it was stressful this end, what on earth must it have been like their end?’
‘I imagine all three of them will have slightly higher blood pressure than they went in with.’ Abi picked up her phone, convinced it would ring; which it did in perfect unison with Beth’s.
Abi walked into the kitchen so she and Beth could take their respective calls privately, ‘Max, is Stan alright?’
‘A bit flustered, but elated. We’ve come out of the salesroom now. It was awfully humid in there, and Stan and I needed some fresh air.’
‘I can’t believe it went for all that money.’
‘I’m not sure we can either. It even stunned Peter, and according to Jacob, that isn’t easy to do. Jacob is going to stay for a while and sort all the paperwork, and I’m going to take Stan for some supper. I’ll call you later. I want to hear all about the family launch.’
‘No problem.’
‘Catch you later, love.’
Max hung up, and Abi smiled. He’d called her ‘love’. He usually called her ‘lass’. That had to be a step in the right direction!
Beth hung up her own phone. ‘Jacob sends his love. Sounds as if Stan is tired but happy.’
‘That’s what Max said. He’s taking Stan off for a bit of dinner while Jacob sorts the paperwork out.’
Beth picked up on the happiness that shone in Abi’s eyes. ‘What else did he say to you?’
‘He called me “love”. Is it silly that it feels like a big step?’
‘If it was anyone else it wouldn’t mean a thing, but with Max it does. Hang in there. Like I said earlier, he’s worth waiting for.’ Beth lay back on the sofa. ‘What a day! An auction and a launch. I didn’t imagine the family launch bit going so well, did you? Suddenly it seems ages ago.’
‘It was great! That Felicity must have thought so if she asked to come back again to report on the official launch as well. Sounds as though she’s planning quite a big article, and if the amount of photographs Mark took is anything to go by, then it could fill the whole magazine!’
‘He was a bit trigger-happy, wasn’t he? Mind you, it might be a mixed blessing having Felicity back.’
Abi refilled the wine glasses, ‘How do you mean?’
‘Did you see the way she was ogling the photograph of Jacob that’s up next to his details?’
‘Really? No, I didn’t.’
‘And if she stroked those pots once, she stroked them a thousand times!’
Abi laughed, ‘I do declare you are jealous, Miss Philips.’
‘Damn right I am! Potentially, anyway. I was off men for years, by choice I grant you, but now I’ve found a lovely one I’m not losing him!’
Chapter Thirty-eight
‘But, Abi, are you sure?’
‘Of course. Look, Stan, this is the obvious solution, and the only way you’ll have space to put them all up. I’ll stay at Beth’s place, and Sally and the children can have my room.’
It was three days since the sale, and already a nice big deposit had been made into Stan’s bank account from Christie’s. Now a bemused Stan was studying the computer screen Abi had on display before them on the kitchen table. ‘And if you press that button right now, they’ll all be booked on the flight from Sydney tomorrow? Just like that?’
‘Just like that. Shall I?’
Stan nodded. ‘Sally is so excited about it.’
‘Then let’s do this!’
Half an hour later, the tickets were purchased and had been emailed to Sally in Australia, and Abi stood in her room in Abbey’s House. Glad that she had stuck to her decision about not unpacking her things until the place truly belonged to her, she stuffed as many of her clothes back into her suitcase as possible in readiness to move out the following day. It wouldn’t take long to tidy up, or put up the two camp beds up for the children. It would feel strange, though, leaving just as she’d started to settle in.
Telling herself off with a sharp reminder that even though Sally had stopped being suspicious of her motives concerning Stan and his home, Sally had far more right to be in Abbey’s House than she did, Abi headed downstairs to
fetch Sadie. It would do them both good to have a walk. Although the summer sun had an autumnal tinge to it now, it was still pleasantly warm, and Abi knew she should make the most of it before the cutting winds that Max had warned her accompanied the coastline once summer was over, began in earnest.
Unhooking the lead from the cupboard, she wandered through to the kitchen to find Stan reading a letter.
‘You OK, Stan?’
He waved the piece of paper in her direction, ‘Take a look. It’s all going through. The flat at Chalk Towers is mine as soon as I sign on the dotted line.’
A lump rose in Abi’s throat as she saw the old man sat at his kitchen table. The kitchen table he’d shared with his wife, and his parents, and his grandparents before them. ‘Stan, I’ve been thinking.’
‘I know.’ Stan pointed to the seat, inviting Abi to sit down. ‘You’re a good girl, and I have no doubt that you and that lovely man of yours have talked it all through. You have good hearts.’
‘You guessed I was going to ask you to stay here with me, even when the house was mine?’
‘I did.’ Stan smiled bravely, ‘Do you see that sink, Abi?’
Abi nodded without comprehension.
‘Mary used to stand there. Every time I look at it I see her. When she went I moved north to stay with Sally, because, like you have recently discovered, it is very hard to stay in a place that reminds you so strongly of someone you’ve lost.’
Abi said nothing, understanding completely as Stan continued. ‘When Sally moved away and I came back here I was full of mixed emotions. I wanted to be able to feel Mary’s presence again, and I can. This house is full of her. But I was also afraid to experience all that loss again every day. It’s a big house for one. It’s a bit cut off from life when you don’t walk too well. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit lonely before you and Max knocked on my door.’
‘But Stan, if you stayed you wouldn’t be lonely. I’d be here with Sadie.’
He shook his head. ‘I love you very much, Abi. You’ve been more like a daughter than just a friend. In a few short weeks you’ve done more for me than anyone has in years, but I miss talking to people of my own age. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you and Max, but I want to be able to remember the old times with people who were there. Grumble about my aches and pains with people who have them too.’
