A French Affair (10 page)

‘It must be better than not doing it,’ said Gina. ‘If Christmas is usually a slack time, it can’t do any harm. We’ll have a theme – get the stallholders to dress up – drag the town into the French House, lured by music, the smell of spices and everything priced to sell.’

‘I can’t see how it would work,’ said Matthew, which made Gina want to slap him.

Heroically restraining herself from violence Gina pressed on. ‘That’s because you have no vision. Really, Matthew, give me a free hand and I could set up something brilliant that would really give the business a boost.’

‘It is what she does, Matthew,’ said Sally. ‘And although I hate to say it, seeing as she’s my older sister and all, she’s very good at it.’

Mathew chewed the last of his doughnut and drained his cup before he replied. ‘I’m not saying I agree but if the stallholders are happy then I might – and I mean might –’ he looked sternly at Gina, who was trying hard to conceal her triumph – ‘let you go ahead. You do know though, don’t you, that we only have about two of us there selling on any particular day?’

‘Yes, of course we do,’ said Sally impatiently.

Gina thought for a moment. ‘Well, then,’ said Gina decisively. ‘On this open day everyone would
have
to come in.’ She smiled. ‘Don’t worry – I’ll persuade them.’

It was mid-afternoon and, with a long journey ahead of them, Sally and Gina said goodbye to Matthew, who was staying on another night. He retrieved Gina’s overnight bag for her and the sisters set off for the exit. They were both exhausted.

‘It’s like snow-blindness, isn’t it?’ said Sally. ‘You just can’t focus any more.’

‘No. It all just merges into one object and you couldn’t tell rubbish from pure gold – even if you did know anything about it.’ She stopped to readjust her bag on her shoulder. It was feeling quite heavy now. As she gave it a hike her eye was caught by a cardboard box in front of a stall. It was almost a reflex now. She put out her hand to stop Sally. ‘Would you mind if we just had a look at that box?’

It was a stall selling chandeliers and the box was full of pieces: a mass of cut-glass drops, pendants, pieces of crystal like giant diamonds in all sorts of shapes and some spikes, like crystal icicles. ‘These are amazing!’ said Gina. She was getting as bad as Sally but Matthew wasn’t with them and they were so pretty.

Sally crouched down beside her. ‘Think of what you could make with these.’

‘Apart from chandeliers, you mean?’ Gina recognised the light of creation in her sister’s eye.

‘Christmas decs – but not only for Christmas. Oh, do let’s buy them. How much are they?’ She smiled up at the dealer winningly.

‘A hundred,’ he said.

Sally stood up. ‘What a shame. If you’d said twenty, we’d have taken them off your hands. But we haven’t got a hundred.’ She sounded worryingly professional, Gina thought.

The dealer sighed. ‘I can’t take twenty but if you make me a sensible offer—’

‘Thirty,’ said Sally immediately.

‘Ninety,’ said the dealer.

‘That’s hardly better than a hundred! Thirty-five.’

Gina looked into the box again. There were a lot of bits and pieces in it, although now she looked more closely some of it appeared to be random bits of plastic. She got up and joined her sister. It was time they were off. ‘Come on, Sal, we haven’t got all day.’ Pulling her coat across she felt in the travel wallet she had tucked down her front with her emergency money in it. She pulled it out. ‘What have I got here? Forty-five pounds. And that’s all we have.’ She gave him the money with one hand and shook his free one with the other. ‘Deal?’

The man shook his head sadly. ‘Deal!’

The girls picked up the box between them and staggered off.

‘I can’t believe we got all this for forty-five pounds!’ said Gina.

‘I might have got him down a bit further,’ said Sally. ‘I was doing well.’

‘But as you didn’t actually have any money . . .’

‘I was sure you had some in your secret stash,’ she said with sisterly insight. ‘I can’t believe you’re still doing that hiding-some-money thing. It’s so neurotic. Has anyone ever stolen your bag?’

‘I left my handbag in a taxi once, if you remember,’ said Gina. ‘I’ve always put a couple of notes somewhere about my person ever since. Sometimes I put a credit card in there too.’

Sally shook her head at her sister’s funny little ways. ‘Come on, let’s get these jewels home.’

After a bit of searching, and several goes at ‘I think it’s along here somewhere’ from Sally, they eventually found her car and set off for home. Sally had given in to Gina’s insistence that she drive, finally admitting she was tired after the long drive up.

‘You seem to have come round to old things,’ said Gina a bit later.

‘I like them better if I can make something new out of them,’ said Sally. ‘I can make some sensational things with those bits and charge what we paid for the whole lot per item!’

‘We could try to sell them at the centre if Matthew agrees,’ said Gina. ‘He might soften up about it if we have this Christmas market.’

‘You think? He’s very uptight and purist, Gina.’

Gina found herself feeling offended although she did realise her sister was right. ‘Do you think this special Christmas market is mad?’

‘Certainly not! Lots of people feel shy about going into shops if they know they’re not going to buy anything. But if they could just buy something little – like a candy cane – they’ll take the chance.’

‘Victorian sweet stall, excellent idea,’ said Gina. ‘Hot chestnuts, mulled wine – or maybe cider? A bit more traditional English?’

Sally laughed. ‘I love it when you get going on an idea. One minute you’re all cautious and sensible, keeping money in your special travel wallet in case you get your handbag nicked – but when you are really into an idea you’ll do anything!’

Gina glanced at her sister fondly. ‘You have to think big, but I’ve already rejected the idea of having a living nativity . . .’

GINA’S EFFORTS TO
promote herself as a freelance PR hadn’t had huge results, and her client had nothing for her at the moment. He was bringing a new product out which would mean a lot of work, but not until the summer. Therefore she decided to focus on the French House. She planned to go there the Saturday after the trip to Newark to arrange their couple of cases and to get to know some of the other dealers. There’d be three of them on a Saturday. It would give her a chance to get them on side about the Christmas event.

She couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed not to see Matthew’s Volvo parked in one of the centre’s few spaces.

She opened the door awkwardly, setting the bell jangling, and went in.

Jenny was there and took the box Gina was carrying. ‘Morning! Are you here to work, or are you just delivering your stock?’

‘I’m here to work, I hope. I want to sort out our stuff and put anything that’s priced into the cabinet, but I’d love to do anything else useful.’ Gina liked Jenny and
knew how important it was to get her on side. ‘If there’s nothing else, I’m very happy to hoover, or make coffee for the others.’

‘That’s kind. I have had a quick run round with the vac but if you came in early one day, it would be lovely if you did it. Oscar produces rather a lot of hair but as he’s not here today we won’t have to keep doing it. Shall I show you where the coffee things are?’

As Jenny led her to a little kitchen at the back of the building Gina glanced around. Although she was more used to it now, it still made her feel a little depressed. She was even more determined to have the Christmas event, however hard it might be to persuade people. The French House so needed an injection of energy. After a brief glance at the kitchen, Gina rearranged the stock on what she now thought of as her and Sally’s stall until she was sure she had the perfect look. She then went to introduce herself to the dealers who happened to be in. The first thing she would ask would be if they wanted a hot drink and how they liked it.

Her first target was Tiggy, an attractive woman in late middle age who’d been an actress. ‘Still do it if they want me to,’ she said, having accepted the mug of green tea gratefully. ‘But this is my life now, really.’ She had a husky, sexy voice and exuded warmth. ‘So tell me all about yourself.’

‘Well,’ said Gina, ‘I’m one of Rainey’s nieces.’

‘Oh darling, how we all loved Rainey. Such a loss to the world, but how marvellous you’re taking on her pitch.’

‘With my sister. It’s probably a terrible idea really as we neither of us know a thing about antiques but it was a challenge, you know.’ Gina felt it was right to be completely
frank with Tiggy. She’d have been found out pretty quickly if Gina had pretended to know anything anyway.

‘We’ve all got to start somewhere and if you’ve got Rainey’s stock to kick you off . . .’ said Tiggy, who’d confided she’d been christened Antigone.

‘And Matthew took me and Sally – that’s my sister – to Newark and we got some more things.’

‘Splendid. I haven’t been to Newark for a while now but the last time I did, someone came and bought all my stock. I was devastated.’

Gina frowned. ‘But surely that’s a good thing, isn’t it?’

‘In some ways, of course it’s good. We’re here to sell the stuff, after all, but it meant I had nothing else to sell and had to buy like mad to build up my stock again.’

‘I see,’ Gina said. Then: ‘Tiggy, can I ask you something?’

‘Anything except my age or my weight.’

Gina chuckled. ‘It’s nothing personal, but I was thinking it would be good if we had a Christmas event. Matthew told me Christmas wasn’t a good time for antiques dealers on the whole, and as I’m a PR consultant in my day job, I thought: Here’s an opportunity to
make
it a good time.’

‘Hm, well, anything that would help to earn a crust,’ said Tiggy. ‘What sort of thing did you have in mind?’

‘Well, I’d want people to sell small items, which could be presents, and we’d have mulled wine – or cider – and ideally I’d get people to dress up in Victorian costumes.’ Tiggy was an actress – would she be open to this idea? ‘My plan is to offer entertainment, to get people into the centre who wouldn’t normally go into an antiques shop. I want them to see antiques as potential gifts, not just something you look at on telly.’

‘I see where you’re coming from and it sounds fun, but I’m not sure you’ll convince everyone. Did you say Matthew had agreed to it?’ said Tiggy as she rearranged a collection of very pretty blue and white cups and saucers.

‘Reluctantly, but if we all made money, it would be worth it and he’d see that. After all, we haven’t much to lose!’

‘You have, actually,’ said Tiggy. ‘Mulled wine or whatever doesn’t come free. But I’d be happy to make nibbles and things and I think some of the others probably would too.’

Gina felt cheered that she’d managed to get at least one person – two if you counted Matthew – on side and moved on to her next prey, who dealt only in furniture. He, unfortunately, wasn’t at all keen on the idea, even after Gina had offered Hobnobs with his coffee, but he did concede he didn’t expect to do much business at Christmas so was willing to move his stock into storage, which was almost as helpful.

The other dealer in that day – a youngish man who told her he shared his stall with his teacher-wife and sold a mixture of small items: vases, decorative jugs, some jewellery – was keen. ‘I think it’s a good idea. It’s a real shame we can’t take advantage of people’s panic buying.’ He hesitated. ‘Mind you, the wife and I are quite tied up round Christmas. We’re part of a Gilbert and Sullivan group and we’re doing
The Pirates of Penzance
early in January.’ Gina could tell by his smile that this was a passion he was proud of.

‘Oh, what fun,’ said Gina. ‘I don’t suppose that means you’d dress up for our event? To add atmosphere?’

‘Sure. And we’ll have a few spare costumes too, which
we could lend to other dealers, to make it a bit easier for them.’

Gina could have hugged him. ‘That would be brilliant. And, I’m sorry, what was your name?’

‘Andrew, and my wife is Sophie. She’s here more in the school holidays.’

‘Would you both be here if we did an event?’

He nodded. ‘I should think so.’

‘Excellent. You sell exactly the sort of things people would want to buy as presents. And I feel if people came in here once and saw how lovely some of the things are, they might get into the habit of it.’ She smiled brightly. Her argument sounded so convincing, but was she just making up a scenario because she wanted it to be true? There was no way of telling. Still, three down, seven to go.

When she went back to her cabinet she was pleased to see a woman staring into it. From behind she looked pleasingly affluent. Gina was determined to sell her something.

‘Can I help you?’ she said in a friendly voice.

The woman turned and smiled. She was in her early thirties, well dressed and groomed. As Gina took in more of her appearance, she realised just how glamorous she was.

She was wearing a suede coat that went down to her ankles and looked as if hundreds of rare chamois had died to produce it. Gina wasn’t an expert but she recognised the boots that graced those ankles were very, very expensive. Her jewellery was gold and chunky; her scarf was silk. It was all classic stuff that would look just as fabulous in twenty years’ time. She’d have looked at home on the front row of a catwalk show.

She was also very good looking, but now Gina looked at her more closely, she felt she was too perfectly made up. It made her look older than she probably was.

‘Is there anything you’d like to look at? You were showing interest in my cabinet before I appeared?’

‘Oh yes,’ said the woman. ‘The scent bottles. Can I see them?’ She had the barest trace of a foreign accent.

‘Which one in particular?’

‘All of them.’

Gina found the key and unlocked the cabinet, her fingers fumbling with the unfamiliar lock. She brought out all Aunt Rainey’s scent bottles and laid them on a nearby table. She wished she’d had a bit of velvet to display them on and made a note to get one.