The Grasmere Grudge (Lake District Mysteries) by Tope Rebecca

Author:Tope, Rebecca [Tope, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780749024352
Publisher: Allison & Busby
Published: 2019-03-20T16:00:00+00:00

They arrived just before eight. Being so early added considerably to the sense of adventure for both of them. A woman was pulling open the big gate to let cars through. Simmy and Ben were third in the queue. A big notice on the gatepost said, SALE TODAY 10 A . M . VIEWING FROM 8 A . M .

‘Nice to be prompt,’ said Ben, which Simmy took as a patronising piece of praise for her timekeeping and speedy driving.

They queued again at the reception desk, where two women were greeting people as they arrived. Doors were opening and closing on all sides as people went in and out of mysterious smaller rooms. ‘One of those is Chris’s office,’ whispered Simmy. There was no sign of the man himself. Ben was given a form to complete before being allocated a bidder’s number. Simmy gave her name and was told she was already in the system, but would be given a new number, since it was over a month since she last put in a bid. ‘Makes sense,’ said Ben. ‘Otherwise they’d get into five figures in no time.’

Simmy was still trying to work out that piece of mathematical logic when they went through into the saleroom.

Everything was as before in the overall layout, but the nature of the objects for sale had changed dramatically. There was a huge sofa at the front, and two smaller ones in the middle of the room. Arranged all around them were chairs of every kind. Deep sagging armchairs, mahogany dining chairs, cane-seated bedroom chairs and a very worm-eaten ornately carved thing that was more like a throne than a chair. It had a worn leather seat. ‘Once used by Anne Boleyn, I should think,’ said Ben. For a moment, Simmy believed him.

On three sides there were shelves and tables stacked with objects large and small, as well as more hanging on the walls. Clocks, old books, suitcases, records, statuettes, stuffed animals in glass cases, pictures, musical instruments, old radios, old sewing machines, bags of embroidered linens, rolled-up rugs and carpets, chess sets – and a whole section of china and porcelain. On the fourth side was the auctioneer’s rostrum flanked by two lower tables for computers. ‘They have online bidding, don’t they?’ said Ben.

‘I guess so,’ said Simmy uncertainly, trying to remember what Chris had told her.

Also, near the fourth wall, in front of the auctioneer and his assistants, stood a row of glass cabinets containing the more valuable or easily damaged items. Jewellery, coins, stamps, tiny oriental carvings, pill boxes, delicate porcelain figures. Ben flipped through his catalogue and found Lot 432. ‘Hey, listen to this. “Snake Charmer by Rosenthal, Germany. Guide price £1800 to £2000.” It’s rather nice, don’t you think? I could get that for Bonnie.’

‘Did you say two thousand pounds?’ Again, for a moment she believed him when he said he might buy it. The piece was indeed compelling. A girl in flimsy garments was bending over, one finger extended, pointing down at a cobra just in front of her.

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