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THE CROWD PARTED TO reveal Lydia and Alison Berman clinging to each other, and Vince leaning over a figure on the grass.
“Oh no! I think that’s Lydia’s grandad on the ground,” said Megan. “I hope he’s okay.”
“Oh my goodness, I hope so, too,” said Claudia. “Poor Eddie.”
Vince straightened up from his crouched position and blew out a long breath before looking up at his wife and daughter. “He’s okay,” he said, brushing his floppy fringe from his forehead. “Must have been a dizzy spell. Probably too much excitement.” He helped Eddie into a sitting position and Alison bent down to tip a water bottle to his lips.
“Honestly, Dad, what are we going to do with you?” She brushed tears from her pale cheeks with her sleeve. “You frightened the life out of me. Of course, if you’d been wearing a hat, this might not have happened.”
“Really, there’s no need to make such a fuss,” said Eddie in his gentle voice as he struggled to get to his feet. “And I do wish you’d stop wittering on about hats, Alison. It’s February—hardly warm enough to get sunstroke. I just stumbled, that’s all.” He gave his daughter a sheepish grin. “And I think I might have forgotten to take my blood pressure tablet this morning.”
Alison threw up her hands in exasperation. “Dad! Between us all, I’m sure we must remind you about ten times a day to take your meds! You know you have dizzy spells because of your blood pressure, so why can’t you remember to take the flippin’ tablets?”
“I don’t need a lecture from you about it, thank you very much,” said Eddie. “Now will you please help me up?” His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he looked at the crowd gathered around. “I promise you, folks, there’s nothing to see here, so you can all get back to whatever you were doing before I made a fool of myself. Thanks for your concern, though.”
“You should stay where you are, Grandad. You still need a paramedic to check you over,” soothed Lydia, touching the back of her hand to Eddie’s forehead. “You could be dehydrated. So don’t move until the ambulance gets here.”
“I’ve got some wet wipes in my handbag,” said Sylvie. “Would you like one to rub over your face, Eddie? It might cool you down.” She turned to Claudia. “I always have some with me, you know, in case we go out and Des drops food down the front of his shirt. He’s such a mucky pup sometimes, so you never know when they’ll come in handy.”
“Maybe you’ll feel better if you put your head between your knees?” Dora suggested. “It’s supposed to help the blood get to your brain faster.” She scratched her head. “Or is it your heart? I can never remember,” she mumbled. “And I’ve got some smelling salts at home. Shall I run and fetch them?” She nudged Archie. “Go and get the smelling salts for Eddie.”
“Here, take a drop of this on your tongue, Eddie,” said Martha, approaching with bottle of homeopathic remedy. “William and I swear by it for all our ailments.”
Eddie held up a hand. “Really, there’s no need for all this fuss! Thanks Sylvie, but I’ll pass on the wet wipes and, as far as I know, there’s nothing wrong with my brain, Dora, and I don’t need smelling salts,” he said, with a throaty chuckle. “And I’d rather not, if you don’t mind, Martha.” He pointed to Des. “It’s him who should be getting all the attention, not me. He’s the one who’s just found out on live TV that the piece of tat he bought in a junk shop is a priceless antique. If anyone needs reviving with smelling salts, and a paramedic, it’s him I should think.”
The arrival of the ambulance dispersed the crowd, with the last few morbid hangers-on drifting away once the prospect of an imminent disaster had passed. The TV crew had already started packing up, and Davina was leaning against the old oak tree, deep in conversation with the valuer who’d appraised Des’s dish.
“Once he’s been given the all-clear, why don’t you all come and have a cup of tea at our place?” said Claudia to Lydia, Alison and Vince while the paramedics checked Eddie over. “You know where we are—just over there at Kismet Cottage on the edge of the green.”
“Oh, that’s kind,” said Alison, “but I think we should probably get Dad back home. He had an early start and I think he could do with a rest. But thanks for the offer.”
“Well, I’ll pop in to the library tomorrow and you can tell me how he’s getting on,” said Claudia. “Will you be there?”
Alison nodded. “Unless Dad needs me, but I’m sure he’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“And congratulations on your good fortune, Des,” said Vince. “Not enough good things happen to good people, if you ask me.” He smiled and turned to follow Alison and Lydia to the ambulance.
“I second that sentiment,” said Jack. “Congrats, Des. What are you gonna do with your dish now?”
Des looked down at the box in his hands and shook his head. “I’ve no idea, but I’ll need to give it some thought.”
“I think we should get home and arrange for that ‘spoon rest’ to be moved to a safe place,” said Sylvie. “I can’t help but feel a little unsettled now I know how much it’s worth.”
“Piffle,” said Des, with a snort. “Just because it’s worth a bit, we shouldn’t let it change the way we are.”
“Quite right,” said Nick, taking off his favourite sun hat and allowing his abundant grey curls to bounce and swing around his weather-chapped cheeks. “Why don’t you come back to Kismet for a cuppa and you can have a think about what you’re going to do about it?”
“Good idea,” said Claudia. “I think Des’s news definitely calls for a cup of tea. I always think it helps when I’ve a big decision to make. And don’t look now, Des, but Davina Davidson’s heading this way again.”
For the second time that afternoon, Davina Davidson made her way across the village green with Des in her sights.
“Look, Mr Harper... Des... I know we haven’t really had a chance to talk since the valuation, and I know it’s a lot to take in, but if you need any advice over the next few days, I’d be delighted to help. All my contact info is on here.” She gave him a business card and nodded to the box in his hand. “I hope you’ll do as I suggested. You really must have the piece insured and valued by a specialist dealer.”
“I’ll think about it,” said Des, firmly. “I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. I haven’t had a chance to get my head around it, but thanks for the card. I’ll be in touch if I need to have a chat with you about anything.”
He watched Davina retreat reluctantly back across the village green and turned to the rest of the group. “Let’s go and have that cup of tea.”
ººººººº
“What do you mean, you’re not taking it to be valued, and you’re not having it insured?” Sylvie’s usually calm voice rose to a pitch it rarely reached.
“What I mean,” said Des, “is that I have no intention of wasting my time calling insurance companies, and taking the dish halfway across the country to London just so someone in a suit in a high-class auction house can tell me it’s not worth a bean. Because I guarantee it won’t be.”
Sylvie raised a brow. “You did hear Davina say that it was worth a quarter of a million pounds, didn’t you? I’m sure she and that team of valuers know the difference between a fake and the real thing.”
Des sighed. “But think about it rationally, Sylv. How in the world would such a rare antiquity find its way into Bliss Bay’s second-hand shop in the first place? It’s highly unlikely, don’t you think?”
Megan spoke through a mouthful of chocolate biscuit. “People are always finding valuables in thrift shops! You must have watched enough antique shows to know that. Extraordinary things happen to ordinary people all the time.”
“Yes, well, not to me, they don’t,” said Des, “so the valuations team must have got it wrong. I’m just going to put it back on the kitchen counter and carry on like before.”
“No, Desmond, you will not carry on like before!” said Sylvie, with a hand on her hip and a foot tapping. “Now listen. What do you know about antiques and fine art? Nothing, that’s what. So why do you think you know better than people who’ve spent years studying them? You might not want to listen to them, but you’d better hear me when I say that I won’t feel safe while that dish is in the house, so unless you put it in one of the bank’s safety deposit boxes, I’m moving in with Claudia and Nick until you do.” She turned to her sister and brother-in-law. “Sorry to drop that on you. You don’t mind do you?”
“Of course we don’t,” said Claudia, “but it’d be better if you sorted things out, wouldn’t it? Look, why don’t you take Davina Davidson up on her offer, Des? She said she’d be happy to help, didn’t she? She even said she’d make the arrangements for you.”
Des harrumphed loudly. “Because I don’t want to take her up on her offer! For the love of Christmas, Sylv! Why are you so bothered about the blasted dish? It’s been sitting in our kitchen for years and you’ve barely given it a glance.”
Sylvie rolled her eyes. “That’s because I didn’t know it was a priceless treasure before today, did I? Please, Des, I know it used to be your mum’s so I understand if you want to keep it but, please, not on the kitchen worktop. Take it to the bank where you know it’ll be safe, and you can go and see it whenever you want.”
“Or you could sell it,” said Jack. “Then you could have that new range you’ve been wanting for years. Heck, you could even get a whole new kitchen to put it in.”
“And you could take that crime writer’s course you’ve had your eye on,” said Megan. “And Aunty Sylv could get that industrial steam cleaner she’s been wanting for the paving stones and the outside of the house. And you could go on holiday!”
Des twiddled his thumbs for a while, then looked at Sylvie. “I don’t know, it just wouldn’t feel right to have all that money when some people have so little. Money does funny things to some people, Sylv. If they know you’ve got more than them, it can cause all kinds of problems. I’ve seen money bring ruin to perfectly happy families—some folk think it’s the solution to all their problems but sometimes it just creates more, and I don’t want any part of that, thank you very much. In fact, I wish I’d never taken the flippin’ thing to be valued. Then we could carry on as we were, and no one would be any the wiser.”
“But that’s the trouble, Des,” said Sylvie. “We can’t carry on as we were, because the whole village and half the country know that there’s a priceless antiquity under our roof. For as long as it’s in our home, that dish will be a magnet for trouble—I can feel it. If you don’t want to have it locked away in a safety deposit box, why can’t you sell it and we’ll put the money in the bank? Or you can give it to charity, whatever you want to do. No one need ever know.”
Des gazed out of the window, deep in his thoughts. “Well, that’s true enough, I suppose.”
“Yes, it is,” said Sylvie, sitting beside him and taking his hand. “Please, Des. Call Davina. Let her get it valued, and take her advice. But please, get it out of the house so I can sleep at night.”
He squeezed her hand and huffed out another big breath. “Oh... alright. Just let me keep it at home for tomorrow—just one more day for old times’ sake—and I’ll call Davina on Tuesday. Deal?”
The tension left Sylvie’s face, and she smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Deal.”
ººººººº
Late that night, after the excitement of the day, a Bliss Bay resident sat in quiet contemplation, consumed by their thoughts.
I can’t believe I’ve been fretting about that dish for forty-seven years and it’s been right under Des Harper’s nose all along.
I must have it.
Every moment it’s out of my hands, there’s a risk it will be traced back to me.
Surely it will have to be checked to verify it’s the genuine article? What if my fingerprints are found on it? Even after all these years, what if forensic technology is so advanced that it could find traces of my DNA? Would it even exist after all this time?
And if it does, how long will it be before the police come knocking?
If they find out what I’ve—no, what we’ve—been keeping secret for all these years, I can’t even bear to think of the consequences.
I must have that dish... at any cost.
