by Fiona Grace
Tom, peering intently at his gingerbread horses, didn’t answer.
“So, anyway,” Lacey continued, “I was just heading to Sakura’s to pick up sushi for dinner. How about I get us one of those sashimi party boxes, and I can tell you all about it?”
Tom’s eyes lit up. “That would be awesome. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“You and me both.”
Lacey headed out of the store, Chester trotting along beside her, and negotiated her way through the busy street to the Japanese takeaway. She and Tom often visited it on nights when they’d worked past closing time, because if there were any forty-piece sashimi sets left at the end of the day, they sold them for half price.
Lacey reached the cartoon pandas on the doors of Sakura’s and pushed them open. But to her surprise, the shelves and fridges were completely empty.
A pretty Asian girl was wiping down the tables. She looked up at Lacey. “Sorry, we’re all sold out this evening. The horsey people cleaned us out.”
“No sashimi?” Lacey asked, surprised the festival crowd would visit a sushi bar decorated with cartoon panda bears. It didn’t seem classy enough for them. And yet there wasn’t a single sashimi party set in sight. There wasn’t even an edamame pot or packet of wasabi peas!
The girl shook her head. “Sorry.”
Lacey left, taking her cell phone out and dialing Tom. His phone kept ringing and ringing as she strolled the five minutes up the road. Eventually, she just let it go to voicemail.
“Bad news,” she said. “There’s no sushi so I’m going to the Cod Father.”
Tom liked to pretend he was too much of a foodie for greasy chip shop food, but Lacey knew he secretly loved it.
But when Lacey reached the steamed up glass windows of the chippies she couldn’t believe what she saw. It was full! Completely full. At least fifty young horsey people had taken over the place, their champagne bottles aloft, some dancing on the tables, others cheering like they were at a football match, still others engaged in a drunken food fight. Behind the counters, the Cod Father staff were watching on with tense smiles, clearly trying to weigh up the pros and cons of appeasing their unruly yet well-paying clientele.
Lacey grimaced. She wondered what the rich horsey parents would think of their offspring’s antics. Even Chester had a look of distaste on his face as he watched them through the window.
Lacey tried to call Tom one more time. But once again, his phone just rang until his voicemail clicked on.
“Tom’s phone. Please leave a message.”
Lacey let out a sigh. “I’ve failed in my quest to find food,” she told the recorder. “I’m giving up. Hope the cookies go well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She headed for home, hungry, and disappointed, only to discover all she had in the fridge was a Tupperware portion of tomato pasta. She reheated it as a stand-in dinner and called her sister, Naomi, for a pep talk.
“I’m holding an auction tomorrow. I’m really nervous.”
“Well, I’m nervous about tomorrow, too,” Naomi said. “I’m going on a date!”
How typical of her sister to turn the conversation to herself within two seconds.
“I have a good feeling about this one, Lacey,” she continued. “He’s absolutely dreamy. He works in property…”
Lacey listened to her sister gush about what was likely to become another failed attempt to find The One, then went to bed with a knot of anxiety in her chest.
She stared at the ceiling, willing herself to sleep. But her nerves were stopping her from shutting down.
Then her phone binged and its bright blue light filled the room.
Sighing, Lacey rolled over in bed. The text was from Tom. She opened it.
I just got your message. I’m so sorry! I got distracted and the next thing I knew it was the middle of the night. Good luck tomorrow with the auction. Love you.
Lacey put her phone down without replying, and sunk back against the pillow with a huff. She wasn’t really that mad at Tom, but she could do without the frustration of his busyness to add on top of the stress and nerves of hers.
She closed her eyes and tried some deep breathing exercises. But the sudden sound of bleating from outside put paid to that. Gina’s sheep had obviously found their way into her garden.
Chester heard the noise as well and ran to the balcony window barking away. It wasn’t his fault. He was hardwired to herd sheep, after all.
Lacey pressed a pillow over her head to try and drown out all the noises and disruptions, and after a few moments heard the sound of barking from outside that told her Gina had released Boudica to herd all the sheep back home.
When she did finally drift off to sleep, Lacey’s brain rewarded her with a feverish dream in which she was chasing her father down the streets of Wilfordshire. No matter how fast she ran, he was always just out of reach. She could never quite catch him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lacey woke with a start. Her heart was pounding. Looking about her, she realized it was dawn. She checked the clock and saw it was not yet six a.m. But there was no point trying to sleep again. It was auction day. She may as well get a head start.
Chester whined at the disturbance of her getting out of bed too early.
“That’s rich coming from you, mister,” she said with a yawn, remembering his late night barking.
He followed her down to the kitchen and yawned sleepily as she put the coffee machine on.
As Lacey watched the glass jug fill up with coffee, her mind kept returning to the dream of her father.
She’d let the opportunity to learn more about him at Sawyer’s slip through her fingers. She’d done the same with Xavier’s Canterbury lead. With Xavier her reasoning had been his romantic interest in her. But she realized now she’d just been looking for an excuse. She’d felt no need to reject Colin, even though his interest in her was arguably more obvious.
She downed her espresso, then showered and dressed, all the while mulling over the cause of her hesitance. She was still ruminating as she led Chester down to the beach.
“It’s fear, isn’t it?” she said to the ocean.
Fear she’d hit yet another dead end? Or fear she wouldn’t? That this time, she would find him, and with it, the truth of his abandonment?
“I should call Xavier,” she said, realizing she would drive herself crazy if she didn’t take some kind of action. It was seven thirty in Spain, so he’d probably be awake. But what could she say? “Sorry for ghosting you all summer, but now I need your help?” No. It was far too awkward. She opted, instead, for a text message.
I found a new lead on my father. An antique contact thinks he may have opened a store in Canterbury.
A minute later, her phone buzzed with a reply.
I will look into it.
She tried not to overanalyze the simplicity of his message. The important thing was he was still willing to help.
Despite the early hour, the sun was bright and strong. Lacey reached the store and opened it up for the day, deciding to prop the front door open in order to let the air circulate.
“You’ll have to be the bell today,” she said to Chester as she repositioned a heavy statue to use as a doorstop.
Immediately, he took up position by the door, looking very self-important.
Lacey wasn’t expecting any customers for at least an hour, so was shocked when a smartly dressed woman appeared in the doorway.
She looked to be in her late fifties or early sixties, but the discrepancy between the lines on her face and her neck indicated she’d had a face lift or two in her time. She had the distinctive cheeks of someone who’d had fat injected into them, and the sort of perfectly straight nose someone could only get from the skilled hands of a surgeon in South Korea’s Gangnam Province. Her pouty lips suggested regular fillers, and were accentuated further by water-effect lip gloss. She had the same aura as Taryn—confident, busy, and only partly present.
“Can I help you?” Lacey ask
ed, looking up at her.
“I heard about your auction,” the woman said, pointing at the poster. Her voice was brusque, and she had a Russian-sounding accent. “I want to reserve a seat. Front row.”
Lacey straightened up. No one had ever asked to reserve a seat at one of her auctions before! It was quite exciting. Or at least, it would be if the woman asking wasn’t quite so intimidating.
“Of course,” Lacey said, leading her inside and over to the counter where she grabbed her pen and a notebook. “Can I take your name?”
“It’s Ms. Oxana Kovalenko,” the woman said. “That’s Oxana with an X.”
Lacey made a note. “I’ll put this on a seat to reserve it,” she said.
“Good. How much do I owe you?”
Lacey frowned. “Owe me? What for?”
“The reservation,” Oxana said, flapping a hand as if to hurry her along. She was giving off the air of having other important things to attend to.
“There’s no charge,” Lacey said, shaking her head.
Oxana looked surprised. Clearly wherever she was from, this was not usual practice.
“In that case, can I pick the seat?” Oxana said.
Lacey couldn’t think of any reason to refuse. “Sure,” she said.
Oxana looked pleased, as if she thought Lacey was giving her special treatment because of how important she was.
Lacey led her into the auction room. The woman walked around glancing about her like she was attending an estate sale rather than an auction.
“You’ll keep the windows open, won’t you?” Oxana said. “It’ll get too hot otherwise. What are the screens for?”
“The auction is being broadcast online,” Lacey said. “There’ll be some virtual attendees.”
“Huh,” Oxana said, in a voice that could either be impressed or disdainful, since she was so hard to read. She waltzed toward the front of the hall, her heels clacking loudly. She pointed at a seat. “I want THAT one.”
Lacey went over and placed the handwritten sign on the seat. “It’s all yours.”
Oxana nodded with satisfaction.
In just the few short minutes Lacey had spent in Oxana Kovalenko’s company, she’d gotten quite a good understanding of the type of woman she was. A Saskia. Someone who was used to getting her own way. A businesswoman. But she was curious about who exactly she was, and her curiosity, as it often did, got the better of her.
“May I ask what you do for a living?” she asked.
A look of pride appeared on Oxana’s face. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize me. I won Ukraine’s wealthiest female CEO of an Industrial, Plastics or Textile company award three years running.”
Unsurprisingly, Lacey didn’t recognize her. It wasn’t like she made a habit of reading the Ukrainian version of the Forbes Rich List.
“How fascinating,” she said. “Well, I look forward to seeing you later for the auction.”
Oxana gave her a peculiar look, as if no one in her life had ever said they were looking forward to seeing her again. She almost smiled. Almost, but not quite.
“Yes. Okay,” was all she said, before she turned on her heel and marched away.
If Oxana was in any way representative of what was to come, Lacey got the distinct impression she was going to meet some very colorful and interesting characters today.
There was still a bit of time before Gabe arrived, so Lacey checked through her agenda, rehearsed her opening lines, and warmed up her voice—auctioneering could be very taxing on the vocal cords.
She was in the middle of lip trilling when she was interrupted by the sound of Chester barking.
She headed onto the shop floor to discover that Chester had left his post by the door and was now running circles around a dog. It was an English shepherd, just like him.
Bemused, Lacey looked around. She couldn’t see its accompanying human anywhere.
“Where did you come from?” she asked the dog.
By the way it was allowing Chester to run circles around it, Lacey guessed it was older and more mature than he was.
The penny suddenly dropped just at the same time a very familiar male voice called from the street outside, “Stella? Stella, where did you go?”
Through the open door, Lacey saw him pacing around the cobblestone streets looking lost. She couldn’t quite believe it.
Colin was here.
Lacey was stunned. Why was Colin in Wilfordshire? Had he come all this way just to see her?
“Stella?” he called. “Stella, where are you?”
At the sound of her master’s voice, Stella began to bark. Colin turned and looked straight through the open door at Lacey.
Their gazes locked. A wide smile spread across his lips.
Lacey felt a lump of anticipation form in her throat as he walked in through the doorway.
“So this is your store,” he said, confidently strolling in.
“Colin?” Lacey said. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard about this little auction,” he replied, as he ruffled Stella’s ears in his hands. “Equestrian themed. There’s an Isidore Bonheur sculpture in bronze that I’d very much like to add to my collection.”
A whole mix of emotions churned inside of Lacey; suspicion that Colin was using the statue as an excuse to see her again; excitement that someone might find her so desirous they’d drive several hours for a chance to see her again; then guilt for even entertaining such a thought.
“You came to bid on the statue?” she asked.
“That’s right. But I think I’m in the wrong place, as there appears to be a donkey on the poster…”
Lacey couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re in the right place,” she said. “But just at the wrong time. We don’t kick off for another two hours.” She handed him one of the printed item lists. “Here are all the lots for the day.”
“Thanks,” Colin said. “I’ll take a look down at the beach. Seems like nice weather for a beach day. What do you think, Stella? Shall we go to the beach?”
As he spoke to his dog, Lacey remembered what he’d told her about Stella being too elderly to attend auctions anymore, and wondered why he’d really brought her along. Perhaps because he knew their dogs would be drawn to one another? As a lure?
Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of Gabe. He was early. He marched in carrying his big black case of equipment, his jeans slung low. Without so much as a hello, he gave Colin and Lacey a suspicious look as he advanced.
Colin stepped back toward the door. “I’ll catch you later,” he said, before leaving with Stella.
Gabe crossed the store and into the auction room. Lacey followed him.
“Is that your boyfriend?” Gabe asked as he put his case down and began unpacking a bunch of thick black cables.
“He’s just a friend,” Lacey replied.
“Sure,” Gabe said. “That was a platonic look if ever I saw one…”
He was being sarcastic and Lacey didn’t like his insinuation one bit.
“I’m in a relationship,” she refuted, hands on hips.
Gabe looked over at her from the camcorder he was setting up. “Maybe someone should tell him that.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“The name’s Dustin Powell,” the bald man at the counter said.
Lacey typed his name into her database while Gina handed him his corresponding bidder’s card.
“Congratulations, Mr. Powell,” Lacey said cordially. “You’re bidder number one for the day.”
“Lucky number one, I hope,” he said with a chuckle.
Lacey handed him the item list. “This is everything we’ll be auctioning today,” she explained, feeling a mix of anticipation, nerves, and excitement that the wheels were now in motion.
One day, Lacey would like to use the same system as Sawyer & Sons and have all the lots on actual display for attendees to peruse at their leisure. But with a grand total of two staff members, it currently wasn’t possible. Yet. Considering how q
uickly she’d managed to get an online system set up, maybe it was more possible than Lacey realized.
More people started entering through the main door. They were all dressed to the nines, as if her auction was another official festival event on the calendar. There were feathered fascinators galore!
Gina flashed Lacey an excited look as a queue started to form. Soon, all eyes would be on her. And what a lot of eyes…
She swallowed the nervous lump forming in her throat.
“Are you okay to carry on with the registration process?” she asked Gina. “I need to start letting people into the auction room.”
“Of course,” Gina said with a nod.
Lacey left the counter. Dustin Powell and attendees number two and three followed after her into the auction room.
As they chose their seats, Lacey went over to the pulpit. She’d set herself up by the French doors, reasoning that the summer sun streaming through would make the merchandise look even more alluring. But now she was relieved for the fresh air; attendees four, five, and six were choosing their seats, and they’d brought a whole load of competing expensive perfume and cologne smells wafting in with them.
Gabe had set himself up on the other side of the French doors. He was surrounded by a messy spider web of black cables and electronic gadgets. It was hard to see where man ended and machine began. Indeed, he seemed so interconnected with the whole thing it was as if he was some kind of bionic man.
Lacey would’ve preferred to have squirreled him away in the back office out of sight, but since he was monitoring all the equipment needed for the live feed, as well as the online system throughout the auction, it made sense for him to be close by. He’d given Lacey a tablet she could keep on the pulpit with her in case she wanted a closer look at the virtual attendees, but since that clearly wasn’t enough for the young technophile, he’d also set up a projector screen to beam the attendees onto. There was already a patchwork quilt of faces on it, at least as many people on the screen as there now were in the room.
Among the crowd, Lacey noticed Mr. Oolong from the Lodge, and Monsieur Cheval of the tantrumming wife fame. She grew even more nervous as she recalled their unpleasant personalities. Hopefully they were in slightly more reasonable moods today than they had been when she’d first met them.
