It wasn’t that we needed more items for the antiques fair this weekend. With my practised eye I could easily pull out a handful of things from the attic that would fly from our stall and besides, my reputation and knowledge alone would see seasoned buyers come flocking. No, it was more that the state of the attic troubled me. The amount of paraphernalia up there was shocking, especially as most of it was stuff I thought had been sold or thrown out a long time ago. When I woke up this morning, I wanted to get back up there and sort through as much as possible. It felt like unfinished business, a loose end that I hadn’t known needed resolving.
And now I did, it weighed heavily on my mind. I needed to sift, pack, sell and sort in order to move on. I knew it was silly, and I knew it was a lot to ask Erin to help me again so soon but I hadn’t been able to think about anything else. There was only one cure to ease my madness and it was keeping busy.
As I busied myself making a pot of tea for us to take up to the attic while we worked, I thought back over the events of the night before. What was it we had been talking about? I knew Jack had come up, and Harry too, but hadn’t Erin asked me something important about my life? I had a feeling that she had but I couldn’t remember what.
I put down the pot and felt a creeping sense of unease. I had been having trouble remembering things lately. But surely, I would have remembered saying something as daft as that? I rubbed my hands over my face as if trying to stir some memory. The trouble was everything felt so fuzzy these days – doctors said it was just the grief of losing Harry but it was so frustrating. Things I always used to remember were becoming more difficult. Of course, there were the usual things like going into rooms and forgetting what on earth I had gone in there for, but there was other stuff too. I could blindly forget entire conversations with people, yet still remember what my Secondary Modern teacher wore the first day I started school.
‘Lydia, are you ready?’
Erin’s voice jolted me swiftly back to the present and I looked up to see her standing in the kitchen doorway with a notepad and pencil stuffed under her arm as she clutched several crates.
‘What are all those for?’ I asked.
‘I thought it would make it easier to organise if we could label stuff properly, then stack it in crates that are clearly marked,’ she explained. ‘The notepad will help us make a list of inventory.’
‘My goodness,’ I marvelled. ‘You’re a wonder.’
She smiled happily at the compliment and I felt my troubles ease. ‘Once a PA, always a PA.’
‘Well, Brad’s loss is my gain,’ I beamed, placing the teapot and cups onto a tray. ‘Come on then, sooner we start the sooner we can open the champagne I’ve got tucked away for Rachel’s arrival later.’
The attic looked even worse in the cold light of day than I remembered. Although we had clearly made a good start last night, there was also evidence of the fun we had shared as we got to know one another better. What looked like two empty bottles of wine stood on one of the teak sideboards while an unopened third bottle rested on the floor. Meanwhile two Kettle Chips crisp packets had been stuffed into an antique umbrella stand, next to an array of Simon and Garfunkel records that I definitely remembered singing along to.
‘Looks like we had quite a party last night,’ Erin chuckled.
I set the tray down and poured us each a cup. ‘Judging by the mess I think we would have given the Simon and Garfunkel Appreciation Society a run for its money in its heyday, but this morning we’ve got to get down to business.’
‘Yes, boss.’ Erin gave me a mock salute and I laughed. Even though I didn’t understand her emo-whatsits, Erin was a tonic. She made me feel revved up and enthusiastic about the new life ahead of me, helping me believe anything was possible.
‘So I thought that rather than have a tidy-up we could sort through the things we want to sell first,’ Erin suggested. ‘We want to start strong if we’re going to sell everything here. That way people will know our name and keep coming back.’
I smiled at her enthusiasm. ‘You’ve got a good head for business, did anyone ever tell you that?’
She shoved a pencil behind her ear and shrugged. ‘It’s common sense. Besides, have you seen The Apprentice? An episode of that would tell you exactly what not to do in business.’
I said nothing. I had no idea what The Apprentice was. That was the downside of living with someone who was a couple of generations younger. Sometimes it felt as though they were speaking an entirely different language.
‘We’re also going to need a name for the business,’ she called over a pile of boxes she was beginning to sort through. ‘Any thoughts? What did you and Harry call your business?’
‘H and L Antiques,’ I replied. ‘Not exactly ground-breaking but it worked for us.’
Erin pulled out the pencil from behind her ear and tapped it against her teeth. ‘Not ground-breaking no, but it obviously served a purpose. Do you want to call the stall that now?’
I shook my head. ‘No. I want a fresh start. H and L feels like we’re going back to the past and this is about the future. What about L and E Antiques? You are helping me with this after all.’
‘No!’ Erin laughed. ‘I mean, that’s sweet, but I think we need something a bit more memorable.’
We both fell silent then in deep concentration. My eyes fell to the stack of records strewn across the floor and I had a surge of inspiration.
‘The Simon and Garfunkel Antiques Brigade!’
Erin thought for a moment. ‘I like it,’ she said slowly. ‘It doesn’t do what it says on the tin, but it’s a name people will remember, and that’s the most important thing in business.’
I couldn’t help myself and punched the air with delight. ‘Yes!’
‘What was that?’ Erin laughed.
I felt my cheeks flame with colour. ‘Not sure. I think I saw it on the television recently and it felt like a natural response.’
‘It’s a brilliant response! We can ask Rachel later to mock up some signs for us, she’s brilliantly creative.’
‘Wonderful.’ I smiled, feeling pleased at the progress we were making so quickly. With Erin’s boundless enthusiasm and organisational skills, I had a feeling it wouldn’t take us long at all to get this attic into some sort of order and our new business venture on the road. I could already see how we could theme our stalls each weekend. Rather than just piling up stuff and hoping for the best, which is what I knew a lot of dealers did, we could run an Asian-inspired stall and then another week we could do a Renaissance event. One week we could specialise in pictures and another week we could concentrate on woodwork, I thought, silently cursing Harry’s weakness for carved walking sticks.
‘What do you want to do with personal things?’ Erin asked, breaking my train of thought.
‘Like Luke’s Lego?’ I asked. ‘Much as it pains me to suggest it, I think we’d better toss it. I had thought it would be nice to pass on to my grandchild, but I’m not wasting valuable luggage space shipping Lego to New York! Not when I know there’s a perfectly wonderful FAO Schwarz just around the corner from Luke’s home.’
‘No, not Lego. Personal things like this,’ Erin replied, waving an envelope in her hand.
I looked up from the walking sticks I had been sorting through and peered at the red, white and blue striped envelope in Erin’s hand. Squinting, I looked a little more closely and saw it appeared to be an opened white envelope.
‘Whose is that?’ I asked puzzled.
‘It’s addressed to you,’ Erin said, smiling. ‘Oooh, is it a love letter from Harry?’
I frowned. The only letter Harry had ever left me was a note asking me to buy bread. This letter didn’t look familiar to me at all.
‘Can I see?’ I asked holding out my hand.
As Erin passed it to me, I felt as though I might faint. The handwriting was as familiar to me as my own. Even though I hadn’t seen it in more than fifty years, it took me right back to my teens, when I had lived for notes like this landing on the doormat.
I took in the address and saw it was addressed to me at the grotty old flat Harry and I had lived in before we moved to the Circus.
‘Who’s it from?’ Erin urged again.
I sank back against the teak sideboard and fanned my face with the envelope. ‘It’s from Jack – my first boyfriend.’
‘Your first love!’ Erin gasped. ‘You must want to hang onto that.’
‘I think I’d better. Especially as this is the first time I’ve ever seen it.’