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Love for Auction

Page 5

by Karen Klyne


  “Okay. I’ll start breakfast. Dave will be down soon.” Jan tutted. “He always seems to stay out of the way when there’s work to be done.” Jan kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

  That’s what everyone kept telling her.

  Dave arrived at the table, clutching cutlery and mats. “Shall we sit over here in the corner?”

  “Yeah, that’s great.” She couldn’t give a damn where they sat.

  He kissed her on the forehead. “You know we’ll always be here for you. You’re family.”

  Kim leaned forward and hugged him. “You don’t know how much I appreciate all you’ve done. You’re like my older siblings.”

  “Hey. Not so much of the old. You’re a survivor, Kim, a chip off the old block. But I’m glad you’re here, and we can keep an eye out for you.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “It’s not too late to back out, you know. I still think Alan and that woman have got it wrong. They’re just in it to make a quick buck.”

  Kim frowned and wondered why he’d say such a thing. Jan walked across carrying the breakfast plates. She plonked them down and put her hands on her hips.

  “What was that you just said?”

  “I was just telling Kim she could––”

  “Well, don’t. Keep your nasty thoughts to yourself.”

  Kim looked down at the floor. She could do without this today, or any day for that matter. She hadn’t had much to do with them since her childhood, and those memories were nice but didn’t seem to reflect who they were today. Dave seemed bitter about something, and he certainly didn’t like Philippa, beyond sexualising her in a pie, of course.

  Dave stared at Jan and frowned. She prodded his arm. “Go and fetch your breakfast.”

  He stormed off and Jan reached across and stroked Kim’s cheek.

  “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart. Sometimes he’s such a bloody arse.”

  Kim touched Jan’s hand. “It’s okay. I’m pretty sure they’re on the level, though.” She looked down at her plate. “This looks great.”

  Dave returned with his breakfast, and they tucked in. However, it soon hit her that she had no appetite. Just the sight of it made her feel sick. She forced a little down, but a slice of toast with marmalade was all she could manage. She looked at her watch every thirty seconds. Jan and Dave kept glancing at her. She knew they were thinking she couldn’t handle it. But she could. She was made of stronger stuff than that. She thanked them, excused herself, and got up from the table. “See you later, got to go and make myself look decent. Thanks. I really appreciated your company.”

  She closed the door to her room and leaned against it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she shook them off along with her melancholy. She walked over to the wardrobe, though there wasn’t a great deal of choice. The clothes she’d originally chosen were summer ones, but the weather woman said it was going to be much cooler with highs of only nineteen degrees. But she wasn’t going to waste money on new stuff. She settled for a pair of light grey jeans, a striped T-shirt, and her short white leather jacket. She looked in the mirror. Was it good enough for some big auction? “I’ll pass.” Apart from the circles under my eyes. The sunglasses would hide the latter, though she might look funny wearing them inside. She spiked her hair up and went downstairs. She waited by the door and then began to pace the room.

  Where were they? Alan and Grace were picking her up at twelve thirty, and it was already twelve thirty-one. She heard the car horn and was relieved to head out. Sitting still gave her time to think, to doubt. And she didn’t need that.

  Grace got out and opened the back door. She didn’t hug her. Grace wasn’t a huggy person, but she did smile and pat her arm. She lowered her head and slid into the seat. “Shit.” She nearly sat on Alan’s crutches, which he’d obviously thrown in without thinking.

  Alan twisted around in the front seat. “Blasted things. Just chuck them on the floor or out the window.”

  “How is the leg?”

  “Cast is off, but now I’m in this air cast boot.” He waggled his foot around so that Kim could see it. “And it’s not weight bearing so I still need those bloody crutches.”

  “Still bloody grumpy as well,” Kim muttered.

  Fortunately, it only took a few minutes before Grace turned into the Village Hall car park. There were hordes of people milling around. They were laughing, joking, swilling back mugs of tea and coffee, and puffing away at their cigarettes. It looked like it was going to be a good day out for everyone. It was surreal, and her heart ached. She glanced around the car park at all the faces. Was Philippa amongst the crowd? A large Jaguar drew up and at first glance, she thought it was her. But it wasn’t. It would have been good to see her reassuring face.

  “C’mon, Kim, let’s go for it.” Alan propelled his crutches forward. “I’d take your arm, but I’d possibly pull you over on top of me.”

  “Oh, you little devil,” she said, trying to make light.

  He cottoned on, and his face flushed. “Coffee?”

  “No, thanks.” She couldn’t take any more fluids, so they headed inside. It was packed, and there wasn’t a vacant seat. The sides were crammed with people perched on windowsills, tables, and any other available space. The whole village and their mothers were there. They battled their way through the crowds towards their reserved table. Carole supplied them with coffee and biscuits, and they sat at the table in awkward silence, though Alan found someone to regale with his life-and-death bicycle escapade. Kim hated this waiting game. She drummed her fingers on the table, then looked at her watch. Fifteen minutes to go. More people arrived, and she glanced around the hall. They were now gathered around the doorway. It was heaving, and they all seemed to be talking at once. She couldn’t help but see them as vultures swooping down to take what had been hers, to steal her memories, her roots. She clasped her hand over her ears, trying to blot it all out. Her breath came in sharp, short gasps and the room began to spin. It felt like she had a weight on her chest, and she wanted to curl into a ball on the floor.

  Alan reached over and took her hand. He stroked it and told her to focus on the grain in the table. It helped block out the noise, and she calmed. She took deep breaths. She was okay.

  “Quite an occasion, eh, Kim?” His tone was gentle.

  She could see in that moment why he’d been her father’s friend for so long. She smiled weakly. “That’s an understatement. Is it always like this?”

  He laughed. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Kim looked towards the stage and then around the hall. “Where is Philippa?”

  Alan patted her arm. “Patience, my dear. You’ll see.”

  The hall buzzed as the minutes ticked by. Even more people pushed their way into the room. And then there was an expectant silence as the room settled. All you could hear was the click, click, click of high heel shoes on the tiled floor. The crowd at the doorway parted and Philippa entered with an air of royalty. All eyes were on her. Kim stared in wonder as Philippa marched confidently into the hall. Her shoulders were pulled back, giving the appearance that she was ten feet tall, though she was possibly nearer five foot nine. Her outfit seemed a bit excessive for a village hall in Cauthwell. A white satin blouse was tucked into white casual slacks. Her blouse was open, just enough to reveal a small amount of cleavage, and a pink tie hung loosely from the collar. She wore a pink waistcoat and matching belt. Even the high-heel shoes were pink. Kim couldn’t decide if she looked like a ball of candy floss or a fashion model. As Philippa walked by their table, she turned her head towards them and winked.

  Kim’s stomach bounced around like a rubber ball. She stroked her neck, trying to cool the heat rising upwards. Phew. What’s happening? Must be the heat from all these bodies. She turned to Alan. “How the heck does she walk in those heels?”

  “She can do anything. And she does.”

  Kim wondered what the undertone in his words were but quickly turned back to watch Philippa taking co
ntrol of the room.

  Philippa stepped up to the podium and placed her notes on the lectern. She poured water from a jug into a glass and took a sip. She brushed her perfectly coiffed hair to the side to reveal pink dangly earrings. Kim chuckled to herself. There was a stark contrast between Philippa and Alan. One glamorous, bizarre, and glitzy, and the other looked as if he’d just been to a charity shop, picked up a suit a size too big, covered a threadbare shirt with a woolly pully, and finished it off with a dinner stained tie. What a strange team they made. The look Alan gave Philippa seemed to be one of awe.

  He cocked his head. “What a gal, eh?”

  “You’re not kidding. Where the hell did you find her?”

  He puffed out his chest. “I head hunted her from a colleague in London.”

  Kim nearly choked. “What?”

  He leaned towards her. “I saw her in action in London. I tried to poach her, but she wasn’t biting at the time. She was really nice about it, though. She was a celebrity, you know? On TV and everything. She did that series called The Lady Auctioneer. I thought that was it. I mean, how could I compete?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. You’re such a charmer. Perhaps you forgot to mention the lure of Cauthwell village.”

  Alan raised his eyebrows. “Anyway, I couldn’t believe my luck. Sometime after, she contacted me and said she’d like to reconsider my offer. The long and short of it is, she’s here.” Alan chuckled. “I made her a partner in the hope that she’d stay. She’s just what this village needs.”

  “Wow, I’m impressed. How can you afford her? London to Cauthwell, that’s quite a difference.” No wonder she carried herself the way she did. She had the cred to back up that kind of outfit.

  He smiled and tilted his head. “You may find this hard to believe, but she’s not money orientated. I’m sure she’s made a lot, but she’s really down to earth.”

  Kim found the information astonishing. She did remember her dunking biscuits though. Anyway, the story had taken her mind off her own problems.

  Alan nudged her. “Now. Let’s watch the performance.”

  Philippa’s eyes seemed to be focused on her notes. There was total silence. You could hear a pin drop. She lifted her head. She looked like she was in a West End show, but no matter where it was, this was her stage.

  “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the auction of Farrell and Young. Aren’t we lucky that the hailstones of yesterday didn’t arrive today? Somebody must be looking down on us.”

  There were the typical murmured responses, and she waited, making eye contact with various people in the room. Then she smiled at her audience and lifted her left hand.

  She glanced at her watch. “Thirteen hundred hours precisely. Let the fun begin. We’ve got lots of goodies for sale, so let’s hope you all have full pockets. We’ll start with Lot number one. I’m sure you’re all familiar with this. A beautiful spot for a retirement bungalow. Not as though any of you qualify yet, but let’s look to the future. The guide price is forty-five thousand pounds.” She glanced around the room. “So, who’ll start me at forty thousand?”

  Someone at the back of the room started the bidding, and the reserve was quickly met. She really knew how to play them and continued to up the price until she seemed to know there was a standstill. The hammer went down. Two more plots went at a similar price. Philippa managed to milk them all to their highest potential. She took a sip of water and raised her head.

  “Now folks, lot number four is interesting. It’s been standing empty for two years, but I’m happy to say that ‘the problems’ have now been solved, and it’s up for sale. The shop is bang in the centre of the village, and it was previously a sex shop.” There were gasps of horror, guffaws, and a lot of nervous laughter. “Just checking to see if I still have your undivided attention.” There were more laughs. “Actually, it was a craft and gift shop. Not much difference, really.”

  She started the bidding and away it went. Her knack of interacting was clever, often picking on a few people who she knew by name and cracking a joke with them. Sam, on the front row, appeared to be the target today, and he appeared to be flattered by her attention.

  Alan elbowed Kim. “So, what do you think of her?”

  She laughed. “Absolutely brilliant.”

  Philippa resumed. The penultimate sale was a barn conversion, and there were bids flying in from everywhere, including several telephone bids. Kim wasn’t sure how she kept up with it all, but she seemed to have total control. Kim’s head swung left, then right, as she tried to follow the bids, but she lost the thread of who was bidding. The gavel went down. It was the height of entertainment and succeeded in keeping her mind off the final sale.

  Philippa paused again and took another drink. People started shuffling around. She lifted her head and glanced around the hall. “Now to our last lot.” She looked towards Alan and Kim.

  Alan took Kim’s hand and squeezed it.

  “I’m sure you’ll all join me in welcoming Kim Besson back to our village. This must be quite an ordeal. Our hearts go out to her.”

  These were personal words, and all eyes fell on Kim. The men touched their forelocks, and the women smiled and nodded. Kim acknowledged them all with a warm smile even though she recognised very few.

  “So let’s continue. We have a lot of interest in this property. There are two telephone bidders and one internet bidder, together with many interested parties in the room. Can we start the bidding at two hundred and fifty thousand pounds?” There was no movement. “Okay, I can see you’re a shy bunch, so let’s start it at two hundred thousand pounds.”

  Kim wiped the sweat from her brow. Her heart thumped like the bass music in a nightclub, and her hands shook like the morning after. Perhaps Dave had been right. She should have pulled out and sold it the conventional way. The stress of this might kill her. Carole raised her hand for telephone bidder one.

  Philippa acknowledged her. “I have a telephone bid of two hundred thousand.” Her head turned to her left. “Two hundred and ten thousand in the room on my left.” The bids flew in from here, there, and everywhere. The bid reached the reserve of two hundred and seventy-five thousand pounds. “I’m now pleased to confirm that there will be a sale. To those unfamiliar, that means the reserve has been met.”

  The room buzzed. The bids continued until they reached three hundred and ten thousand pounds. Alan squeezed Kim’s hand again. There was silence, and everyone looked around, waiting. Kim couldn’t imagine what was going to happen. Philippa scanned the room, and Carole grabbed her attention with a raised hand.

  Philippa nodded. “At last. Our internet bidder has arrived with an offer of three hundred and twelve thousand pounds.” Someone in the room upped it, followed by the telephone bidder. One of the telephone bidders dropped out. Then she had three hundred and fifteen thousand pounds from the other telephone bidder. “C’mon, ladies and gentlemen, don’t miss this opportunity.” It went up another five thousand from someone in the room. There was a hush. There were two higher bids on the phone, then the internet came in and topped them all. “I have three hundred and twenty-six thousand pounds on the internet.”

  Alan nudged Kim. “How’s that, then?”

  She wiped her brow. The house had already exceeded the price she’d have got if she’d sold it in the conventional way. This was the best scenario. Nevertheless, being there and watching her family home being sold off, right in front of her eyes, was devastating. “I don’t think I can take any more of this.”

  Philippa glanced around the room. “I have an internet bid of three hundred and twenty-six thousand pounds. Going once, going twice…” The gavel went down with a loud bang. “Sold for three hundred and twenty-six thousand pounds.” There was a collective sigh of release as the tension dissipated. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for a most enjoyable few hours. I’m sure I’ll see you in the pub later. Your support has been greatly appreciated, and I hope you’re all happy with your purchases. All the sol
icitors are seated on my right, and if you’d like to go and part with your deposits, we’ll all be very happy.”

  Kim watched her as she stepped from the podium to loud applause. She nodded her appreciation. Everyone milled around her, and she shook their hands, even signing a few autographs. She whirled in her stilettos, and then click, click, clicked out of the door.

  Alan touched Kim’s shoulder. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but it was a great result.”

  Kim slumped forward. It was over, and she felt weary to her bones. “On another occasion I’d say I was ecstatic. But right now, my head’s spinning.”

  “Perhaps you’ll be able to move on now.”

  Kim pursed her lips and nodded. Whatever moving on meant, that’s what she’d have to do now. Her family home was officially gone.

  Everything moved quickly from that moment. The chairs were stacked, cups collected, floors swept, and tables moved. The solicitors were busy with buyers and sellers alike. Kim stood against the wall, uncertain what to do next.

  “Grace will be here in a few minutes. Do you want to come back for a coffee?”

  “Thanks, Alan. I think I’ll walk back. It’s turned into a beautiful afternoon.”

  “Fine, I’ll see you soon. You know where we are if you need anything.”

  “Thanks for everything.”

  “You’ll have to see the solicitors. Or you could leave that to Philippa, since she does have your authority.”

  “Sure, that would be fine. I think I’ll just sit for a moment.”

  Philippa reappeared and was making her way over but was grabbed by Carole and Abby, who were a few feet away from them. Kim staunched the fleeting feeling of disappointment. She’d get her turn, eventually.

  “Well done, you two. You were brilliant.”

  Carole and Abby had wide grins.

  “You were fantastic, Philippa.” Carole put an arm around her waist. “Are you coming to the pub to celebrate?”

  “No. But I’ll take you two for dinner sometime.”

  They looked disappointed but managed to smile and jest a bit more with her.

 

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