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Authors: Katie Fforde

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BOOK: A French Affair
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She was looking longingly at some little carved birds when Matthew caught her up. ‘I got you the nightlight and the Moorcroft. You owe me a hundred.’

‘No!’ she gasped. ‘I can’t believe you managed that. You’re a genius!’

Matthew looked a little abashed. ‘Just doing my job. Now, are you all right to have them in your bag?’

Gina put the parcels away safely. ‘I’m meeting Sally at ten. I thought here was a good place. Can I buy you a cup of coffee? As a thank you?’

‘If you buy me a cup of coffee every time I get something a bit cheaper for you I’ll be awash. But one cup would be nice. We’re in this together, remember, Gina. We’re both under instruction from Rainey.’

 

Gina disconnected her phone. ‘I’ve done my best to tell Sally where the coffee stall is but she said she couldn’t relate to what I was saying.’

‘Ring her back and tell her to wait by the entrance. I’ll go and meet her there,’ said Matthew, getting up. ‘I’ll borrow Jake’s Dick Van Dyke. I’ve just spotted him round the corner.’

While she sipped her cooling coffee and ate the rest of the bun she hadn’t been going to have, Gina realised she liked Matthew. She could see what Aunt Rainey had seen in him. He was mostly reserved and serious but had a
kind heart and a sense of humour. She’d have to be careful how she conveyed this to her sister or she’d have them up the aisle in seconds, but she did feel they were part of a team now.

Sally arrived ten minutes later, breathless and laughing. ‘He gave me a backie. Really, it was the last thing I expected from Matthew.’

An emotion she didn’t recognise stabbed Gina for a moment. When she realised it was jealousy she leapt up and hugged her sister, determined never to feel like that again. ‘He put you on the back of the bike?’

‘I sat on the saddle and he pedalled. I haven’t laughed so much for years. He’s surprisingly good fun, isn’t he?’

Gina chuckled. ‘He is. But as he isn’t with you, I presume he’s biked off somewhere else.’

Sally nodded. ‘Yes. We’re on our own for a bit, he said. Isn’t this place
huge
!’

‘You must have set off at the crack of this morning.’

‘A bit before, actually. You know how it is, when you know you’ve got to get up early you don’t really sleep. Still, the girls will be as good as gold, I know. I promised them presents. I saw some amazing crystal decorations as we whizzed past,’ said Sally. ‘They’re for Christmas really, but the girls will love them.’ She paused. ‘Hey! Why don’t we buy some? If they’re here, they must be acceptable at the centre, don’t you think?’

 

The sisters set forth, clutching on to each other. ‘I’ve got a couple of things already,’ said Gina. ‘They’re all wrapped up; I’ll show them to you later. We’ve got about four hundred pounds left to spend. Let’s have a look at this stall.’ She drew her sister towards a table full of what
Matthew would probably call knick-knacks. ‘And do let’s try not to tell the world we know nothing about antiques.’

‘I won’t have a problem with that,’ said Sally. ‘I was good at drama at school.’

‘I’ll have you know I’ve displayed some pretty good acting skills myself this morning. Matthew and I played a married couple with complete conviction.’

Even before she’d finished speaking she realised she shouldn’t have said that. Sally stopped and turned to her, an expression of glee on her face. ‘Really?’

‘It was only pretend. If we were at a stall together and weren’t a couple, we’d look like colleagues and then I’d look a complete fool when I didn’t know what I was talking about.’

‘Oh, OK,’ said Sally, reluctantly suppressing her excitement as she picked up a rather pretty cup and saucer before quickly putting it back down again when she saw the price. A glance at a couple of other items soon told them both that everything on this stall was beyond even a bargaining price. Not knick-knacks then.

‘Why don’t you take me to the decorations stall?’ said Gina. ‘If we get the girls’ presents out of the way we can focus better on getting stock.’

‘Good idea. It’s outside. Not far . . .’

The stall took a bit more finding than Sally had thought but they had a good look round while they found it. ‘
I think we should definitely stick with small decorative items, like Rainey already had,’ said Gina.

‘I’m cool with that but really, I think we should get some of these decorations too. I mean, they’re small and decorative and Christmas is coming up.’

‘But they’re not antiques.’

‘I think we should buy them anyway,’ said Sally. ‘Even if we don’t sell them at the centre we could take a stall somewhere else.’

Gina shrugged. ‘I suppose. After all, we have to make a profit, but no one ever said we had to sell through the French House.’ Although she already felt a certain loyalty to it.

The stall was truly impressive. It didn’t only have decorations but anything that could be made with crystals and a clever welding tool.

‘These hair-slides are to die for,’ said Sally, putting her purchase in her handbag. ‘What else shall we buy? Those dress rings are terribly on trend.’

‘We must keep some money for antiques . . .’ Gina protested as Sally seemed to be getting carried away.

‘They are sort of old,’ her sister said. ‘I had quite a chat with the woman who makes them. The bits of crystal are recycled. I think they’re amazing.’ Sally’s eyes lit up in a way they hadn’t been when they’d been looking at true antiques. These were much more her thing.

‘Well, at least we can afford them and they are extremely pretty,’ Gina conceded.

‘Yes,’ said Sally, ‘and it’s our stall. We should be able to sell what we like at it. If not, we’ll work out some other way to sell them.’

Fifteen minutes later they had an awful lot of decorations.

Sally had got an amazing deal, Gina had to admit. She’d got about three hundred pounds’ worth of decorations for a hundred.

‘You have done brilliantly, but can we please buy some antiques. Now.’ Gina felt they were somehow cheating
Matthew with the decorations and she didn’t want to quarrel with him – or put him out.

She led Sally to a stall that had plenty of the small, sellable items they were looking for. Sally immediately spotted a tea set, quirky and attractive.

‘How much is this?’ she asked the stallholder.

‘How old is it first, though,’ whispered Gina.

‘Fifties, classic, very popular period now,’ said the man. He was dressed mainly in denim and seemed quick to spot them as people ready to spend money and not just browse.

‘Thanks, but not that old then,’ said Gina firmly. Matthew had made it plain the 1950s were practically contemporary. ‘Sally, we’re supposed to be buying antiques only from now on.’

‘Well, there’s plenty here that’s antique,’ he said. ‘What do you fancy?’

He did seem a bit more like a market trader than an antiques dealer but Gina had quickly discovered there was no type when it came to dealers; anyone or everyone could be one. It was a very egalitarian business.

‘What about these, set of fish knives and forks, in their case, make a lovely present.’

‘I don’t think so, thank you,’ said Gina. She hadn’t been in the business more than five minutes but she had spotted there were sets of fish knives and forks everywhere and no one seemed to want them.

‘Well now, girls.’ The dealer leant in. ‘If you want something really special, I’ve got something behind here I don’t want everyone to see. Something that needs a really good home.’

Gina was instantly suspicious. ‘Sorry, but why wouldn’t you want your stock on display?’

The dealer became even more confiding. ‘As you probably know, the antiques business is very competitive.’ Gina had already picked this up, so it went a little way to reassure her. ‘I don’t want to give my local dealers the advantage. But you girls, I know you’re not local to me, so I’d like you to have these pieces.’

Gina wasn’t entirely convinced but was curious. So was Sally, it seemed.

‘What is it? she asked.

‘Come round the back and I’ll show you.’

As ‘round the back’ was still very public the man did a lot of checking to see no one was listening, which Gina was sure was just showmanship. ‘Tea caddies.’

Sally stifled a giggle and Gina bit her lip. All this cloak-and-dagger stuff for tea caddies – they should have been opium pipes at the very least or some sinister paraphernalia used in witchcraft.

‘Well, they look nice,’ said Gina. Maybe they would be the sort of good saleable items they were looking for. ‘Do people collect them?’

‘Oh yes. Tea caddies are very popular, but you don’t often get this quality, not for the price.’

‘Why not?’ asked Sally.

The man looked offended. ‘I thought I told you. If my neighbouring dealers had these for sale, people would go to them in future, not me. That’s why I don’t want them sold locally.’

Gina was still trying to work out if this made sense when Sally cut to the chase. ‘How much?’

‘Five hundred,’ came the reply, without the usual hesitating and sucking of teeth they’d come to expect.

‘Far too much,’ Sally came back, just as quickly. ‘Two hundred!’

‘Are you trying to take the food from the mouths of my wife and children? Four hundred.’

‘You must be joking,’ said Sally, obviously well in the spirit of hard bargaining. ‘Two hundred and fifty!’

‘Come on, girl! Be fair. I can’t sell you this very pretty pair of tea caddies at less than I paid for them. Three hundred and fifty.’

Gina wished she had the opportunity to do a crash course in tea caddies. It was just this sort of occasion that made their total ignorance such a handicap.

‘We’ve only got two hundred,’ said Sally. ‘Take it or leave it.’ She was amazingly tough.

The dealer’s hand had gone out and Sally’s had nearly met it, when the curtain was pulled back and they heard, ‘Don’t, under any circumstances, buy those caddies!’

Chapter Eight
 

IT WAS MATTHEW.

‘Hey, butt out, mate,’ said the dealer. ‘We’re doing private business here.’

‘These women are my colleagues,’ said Matthew.

‘What?’ The man looked horrified, making Gina realise that it had been obvious that they were novices.

‘So they won’t be buying the caddies,’ said Matthew firmly. Then he put a hand on a shoulder of both women and guided them away.

‘I can’t decide if that was incredibly overbearing or rather sexy,’ whispered Sally, probably loud enough for Matthew to hear.

‘I’m sorry if that seemed overdramatic but that man would have fleeced you,’ Matthew said.

‘So they were fakes? How did you know from a distance?’ said Sally.

‘Firstly, there are a lot of fake tea caddies about. And these were far too cheap.’

‘But how did you know how much he was selling them for?’ demanded Sally. Gina wondered if she was bearing a grudge for being cheated of her bargain.

‘I’d spotted them earlier. When I saw you being taken behind the stall I knew he was up to something. The minute I set eyes on them I saw the hinges were wrong.’

Gina sighed. ‘This is so difficult. I don’t see how we can ever make money at it.’

‘It’s not a quick road to riches unless you’re very lucky,’ said Matthew, ‘but some of us have been making a living from it for years.’

‘But how long did it take you?’ asked Gina, now thoroughly despondent. She’d been enjoying herself, but the immensity of the task they’d taken on overwhelmed her once again. They were going to be robbed at every turn.

‘I did have the advantage of a father in the business,’ said Matthew more kindly, ‘but I didn’t make money on my first deal. As an old hand at this antiques fair game, I say we need tea and somewhere to sit down. Then you can show me what else you’ve bought.’

He guided them to the café. When they all had tea and doughnuts he looked at them in a schoolmasterish way and said, ‘So, show me what you’ve bought.’

Gina felt told off even before Sally produced the bags of Christmas decorations. Had there been a moment she’d have told Sally to keep quiet about these.

‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ said Sally delightedly.

‘They’re OK, I suppose, but they’re not antiques,’ he said dismissively.

Gina felt the need to stick up for her sister. ‘They’re made out of antique materials,’ she said.

‘Even so, we couldn’t sell them at the centre.’ He was adamant.

Gina was about to tell him about their fall-back position
of taking a stall elsewhere when she had another thought. ‘What is the centre like at Christmas?’ she asked brightly, trying to give the impression she’d moved on from the decorations.

‘Well, Christmas isn’t a good time for antiques dealers. It never has been. No one’s thinking about buying furniture then, unless it’s a new sofa to watch the Christmas specials on television from.’

Gina felt watching a Christmas special was the last thing he would ever do. ‘But people do buy presents and not all antiques are furniture, after all.’

Matthew nodded in agreement.

‘What’s your point, Gina?’ asked Sally defiantly, tucking the decorations back into their bag.

‘I was just thinking – from a PR point of view – Christmas could be a very good opportunity for the centre.’

‘How?’ queried Matthew, a puzzled frown on his face.

Gina’s respect for Matthew had been growing but just now she wanted to shake him. She’d countered her own negative feelings with creativity, and she wanted his mood to change too. Just because Christmas had never been a good time for antiques before, it didn’t mean it couldn’t ever be. ‘We could do an event. Advertise it well, of course, and get everyone to put their small, gifty items on sale. We’d do mince pies, mulled wine, get people into the centre who’ve never been into an antique shop in their lives.’

‘Oh yes,’ said Sally, practically knocking her tea over in her excitement. ‘I think that’s a brilliant idea, Gines. After all, antiques are so romantic and men never know what to get for their women. There are some darling things
most women would love.’ She paused. ‘And we could sell our decorations,’ she finished, deliberately not looking at Matthew as she said this.

He scowled. There was no other way of describing it, Gina felt. ‘I’m really not sure—’

BOOK: A French Affair
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