‘This jade ring is highly collectible,’ I explained to the woman examining the antique. ‘We always find them rather difficult to get hold of.’
‘Is it a dragon or a dog?’ the woman asked, turning the ring over in her hands.
‘It’s most likely a Foo Dog,’ I replied, ‘cut into foliage and it probably belonged to an archer.’
‘An archer? My word,’ the woman exclaimed, pulling out a pocket loupe from her handbag to examine the ring in more detail.
Turning to Lydia, I saw the corners of her mouth were upturned in a knowing smirk, forcing me to look away before she had me in fits of hysterics. I had done a few fairs with Lydia now and had long since discovered that those customers who were the most clueless were the ones that tended to bring their own magnifying glasses for a closer examination – all the gear and no idea, as Rachel would say.
As the woman put her loupe away, she gave me a warm smile. ‘I’ll take it, thank you. Is there any movement on the price?’
I shook my head. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m afraid not. As you will know already I’m sure, these jade rings are incredibly hard to come by and we have priced it as competitively as we can in order to encourage genuine art lovers to pick up an affordable piece that will serve them for years to come in the future.’
The woman paused for a moment, and looked lovingly at the ring, ‘Okay then, I’ll take it.’
‘Lovely,’ I grinned. ‘That will be four hundred pounds please. I’ll just write out your receipt.’
As Lydia handled the cash I wrote out the receipt in our book, and handed it over. Bidding her goodbye, I sank onto the little stool and took a sip of the lukewarm coffee I had dashed across the field to buy an hour ago.
We had been rushed off our feet all morning and I was delighted at the chance to take a breather. Today we had got up earlier than the crack of dawn to go to an antiques fair just outside Birmingham. It was one of the largest fairs in the UK and with Paris on the horizon next week, we thought it would be a good idea to try something a little larger to get us warmed up. Consequently, we had stuffed the van – sorry, delicately packed the hire vehicle – with some of our best pieces, keen to test our selling skills. I had to say that so far things were going really well. Not only had we turned over two thousand pounds in just under two hours but Lydia and I had got into a steady rhythm. It was thanks to Lydia I had developed a certain knowledge about the more general pieces but for anything more specialised she was on hand to help answer customers’ and fellow dealers’ queries.
‘You handled that customer very well.’ Lydia said admiringly. ‘Very nice touch there, inferring she was an expert on those rings.’
‘You taught me well.’ I smiled, raising my paper cup to clink hers. ‘I even managed not to roar with laughter when she pulled out that loupe.’
Lydia wrinkled her nose in disgust. ‘These amateurs.’
‘These amateurs keep us in tea and biscuits,’ I said warningly.
‘True,’ Lydia said, her tone relenting. ‘Though speaking of which, did you notice how little stock we have left now.’
I nodded. We had gone into the attic last night to sort through the items we wanted to take this morning and our stock had seriously dwindled. With all the fairs and the online selling I had introduced through a new website last month, we had seen a huge surge in turnover. In a way, of course, it was a good thing; Lydia needed to sell everything in order to pay for the losses Harry had left her with. But I would miss working with Lydia. She had not only taught me how to handle antiques customers, she had also become more than a landlady and business partner – she had become my best friend. Looking at her now, jabbing at her phone, I smiled delightedly as I watched her bring our website up for another dealer who had stopped by to say hello.
‘I must say, that’s a lovely looking website,’ the man I knew to be called David said.
‘It’s all Erin,’ Lydia said, a hint of pride in her voice. ‘She’s revolutionised our business, takings have been through the roof.’
David scratched his chin thoughtfully. ‘Really? How much do you reckon you sell through it then, in a week?’
Lydia and David looked at me expectantly. ‘Since we went live we’ve sold over £10,000, but I haven’t listed everything, just the things I knew would sell to a more specialist collector, or to the overseas market.’
‘The overseas market…’ David raised an eyebrow. ‘You reckon it’s been worth it then?’
‘Without a doubt,’ Lydia said triumphantly, as an alarm sounded on her phone. ‘Look, we’ve just got an order now – for that chest, Erin.’
The oak tall boy was something we were never going to shift at a fair, it was so large and bulky. However, I’d read an article about Americans liking bigger pieces and wondered if it was the sort of piece New York housewives would like. Apparently, they had taken to collecting them as the perfect accompaniment to their Upper East Side homes.
‘Is it an American?’ I asked.
‘Yes, just as you said,’ Lydia said excitedly.
‘My word, how did you work all that out?’ David asked.
I shrugged, and got up from my stool as a customer approached to look at one of the silk scrolls I had laid out. ‘Research. Lydia helped me get a feel for it all.’
‘You two make quite a double act,’ David said. ‘She’s better looking than your Harry ever was, that’s for sure.’
At that, Lydia roared with laughter and David walked away. Shaking my head, I turned back to our customer and answered her questions about the scroll. Twenty minutes later and she had walked away a satisfied customer.
‘Do you realise that with the sale of that scroll, we’ve taken more at this fair than we ever have before?’ I pointed out, flicking through the receipt spreadsheet I had created on my laptop.
‘Don’t forget all the online sales this week as well,’ Lydia pointed out. ‘Harry and I could have done with you years ago!’
I laughed. ‘Years ago, I wouldn’t have had the first idea about a business. Working at Brad’s taught me a lot.’
‘You have a natural eye. It’s the architect in you,’ Lydia said kindly. ‘Do you never think about picking that up again?’
‘To be honest, no. You spend a lot of time in an office as an architect. Working with you, I’ve realised how much I love being in the great outdoors and talking to people.’
Lydia beamed. ‘It’s been a pleasure for me as well, to see how you’ve picked up the antiques trade.’
‘I like it,’ I admitted, ‘which is a surprise. I always thought I’d end up in architecture – possibly as Brad’s partner or something. At least that was a plan we talked about.’
‘You’ve hardly mentioned him since the funeral.’ Lydia said quietly. ‘I haven’t liked to pry, but how are you feeling now?’
‘All right,’ I replied honestly. ‘I sort of feel Brad and the life I had with him is firmly in my past. It’s not my place to grieve for Brad any longer. I did that when he left me for Cara. Now, it’s Cara that should be grieving for all she’s lost.’
‘Have you heard from her?’
I shook my head. I had told Lydia and Rachel about the conversation Cara and I had in the graveyard. Initially each of them had been outraged Cara could have hijacked me in such a way but it hadn’t felt like that to me. To me it felt as though it was the perfect time to let go of the hold Cara and Brad had over me. The funeral hadn’t just allowed me to say goodbye, but it had allowed something inside me to shift. I could look forward in a way that I hadn’t before, and as a result I had thrown all my energy into the Simon and Garfunkel Antiques Brigade. I had been designing logos, building customer order forms, adding blog articles and forging links with other dealers around the world. It had been good for me, I felt more like my old self, and judging by the money we were now taking in, my new-found confidence was paying dividends too. If nothing else, it proved I did have what it took to make my own way in the world.
‘Has Phil spoken to you?’ I asked Lydia, suddenly changing the subject.
Looking up from the antique clock she was now pushing to the front of the stall, she gave me a knowing glance. ‘I take it from your tone he’s told you about his expansion plans into the florist’s?’
‘Yes, I think it will be good for him.’
‘I wondered about offering to manage it for him.’ I gulped. ‘Or do you think that’s a silly idea?’
As Lydia stood there looking at me, opening and closing her mouth like a guppy struggling for the right words to say, I took that to mean that she thought it was an atrocious plan. ‘Is that something you would want to do?’ she asked eventually.
I ran a hand through my hair as I considered my answer. I had thought about the prospect of managing Phil’s café for him ever since he told me he wanted to take over the florist’s lease. I mean, I knew that taking a bigger part in Phil’s business, assuming that was what he would even want, wasn’t using my degree, but I liked working with Phil and it would be a job I could throw myself into, even though I knew it wasn't exactly what I had always wanted to do.
‘I think so,’ I said slowly. ‘Recently, I’ve felt more capable and I’ve loved getting involved in the coffee shop – finding new customers, bringing the takings up… And the way things are going, after Paris our little antiques empire will have finished too, we’ll have sold everything. I’m going to need to make sure I’m gainfully employed and like I said, I like being around people.’
Lydia nodded. ‘You’re a natural when it comes to business, Erin. But, darling, you’re young and full of ideas. Okay, things are a bit up in the air for you work-wise but they won’t stay that way. You need to channel all this creativity and energy you’ve got into what you really want to do. You’re in the prime of life – you need to grasp whatever’s out there with both hands, just think about how to really use your talents.’
As a customer approached the stall to look at the clock, I let Lydia handle him, and sat back onto my stool. As I watched her make another sale, I passed her the book. She looked delighted with herself, and I was delighted for her. Whatever came next, I knew it would be hard to beat the job I had working with Lydia. Just how often do you get to find a job where you spend the day with your best friend?