‘The thing that no one else spotted and will sell for thousands?’
David nodded. ‘That’s the thing.’
‘Have you ever found anything? Is it rude to ask that?’
He laughed. ‘You’re all right, Little Lizzie. You can ask me what you like. And yes, I did once find something that turned out to be quite valuable.’
‘And? You can’t leave me not knowing,’ Lizzie went on when he didn’t immediately tell her.
‘It was a little Delftware mug. A bit nibbled round the edges but no real damage. It was cream with a blue pattern. It was early. It was in a box of other crockery. I spotted it but didn’t say anything. I knew if I drew attention to it the seller would realise it wasn’t like the other bits and pieces in the box. I offered him a quid for the whole box and he was glad to have it.’
‘Did you keep it? Or sell it?’ This was exciting. She longed to hear about David making his fortune. Although she realised that if he had made a fortune it was unlikely he’d be living with Alexandra.
‘I put it into auction. I made enough to buy this car.’ He patted the steering wheel of his big old estate car, which was now completely packed with boxes. There was a trestle table on the roof, lashed down with rope. ‘I paid off my debts, bought some new stock. And that was it. But it was exciting. And you never know that something similar won’t happen again. It’s the thought that it might which keeps us going.’
Lizzie didn’t speak for a while. She was admiring London before dawn, when although there were people about, there weren’t many of them. Milk floats, some drawn by horses, could be glimpsed as they drove along the Bayswater Road towards Notting Hill. Dustcarts, the men emptying the dustbins wearing leather caps with flaps, even an ice cart, delivering ice in huge blocks. Lizzie realised how much went on while most people were asleep.
‘Right,’ said David as they approached the Portobello Road. ‘I’ll drive up to my spot and we’ll unload. You’ll guard the stuff while I go and park the car. Then we’ll set up. OK?’
The stallholders either side of David were already there and noticed Lizzie getting out of the car when they were obviously expecting Alexandra.
‘So, you turned in Lexi for a new model, did you, Dave? She’s a pretty one,’ one of them said as Lizzie helped David get the trestle table off the roof. He was definitely a cockney geezer type, she decided.
‘Nah.’ David grinned, obviously well used to his teasing. ‘Lexi’s coming on the bus. I’ve got two dolly birds helping out today.’ David nodded towards the man. ‘This is Terry, Lizzie. Watch him.’ He gave a knowing look. ‘I’ll be off to park the motor.’
Lizzie felt a bit self-conscious about being referred to as a dolly bird. In her mind they were fashionable and pretty. She hadn’t had time to put on any make-up that morning and felt a bit frumpy. She put her hand up to her hair, and ran her fingers through it.
‘He does all right for women, considering he’s an iron,’ said Terry, eyeing up Lizzie when she tried to make sense of the trestle table.
She smiled at him. ‘Give us a hand with this?’ she asked. She’d never heard the expression ‘iron’ before, but she could work out Terry meant homosexual.
In spite of his rather aggressive manner, Terry was very helpful and between them they got thetable up. Lizzie had found the cloth and spread it out and was beginning to unpack the crates when David got back.
‘You’ve done well, Lizzie,’ he said. He handed over a paper bag. ‘Here’s your breakfast.’ He handed another bag to Terry.
In the bag was a floury white roll full of crispy bacon. Lizzie took one bite and felt she’d gone to heaven. Soft bread and butter yielded to her bite until she reached the crispness of the bacon. ‘Oh, that is so good!’ she said. ‘Nothing I’ve learnt with Madame Wilson tastes half as good as that.’
‘You can’t beat a bacon sarnie and a cup of strong Rosie,’ said Terry with his mouth full. ‘Rosie Lee, tea,’ he added helpfully when he’d stopped chewing.
‘Don’t let Terry fool you with his rhyming slang,’ said David. ‘I happen to know he went to Eton.’
Lizzie put on an expression she hoped was quizzical. She didn’t know if David was telling the truth or not. Maybe Terryhadbeen to Eton. ‘What would you like in the front of the stall?’
‘Well, as you can see I mostly deal in silver and china,’ said David, ‘with a bit of jewellery thrown in. I put a bit of silver at the front: the plate – hairbrushes, mirrors, trinket boxes. But I keep the really good stuff at the back, where I can keep an eye on it. Why don’t you put it out in a way that looks nice to you and then I’ll tell you you’ve done it wrong.’
At this moment Alexandra appeared; she was carrying paper bags too. ‘I see you’ve got your breakfast already,’ she said. ‘But bacon rolls never get left uneaten. Who’s for seconds?’
‘Me, please,’ said Lizzie, suddenly realising how hungry she was.
‘The stall’s beginning to look nice,’ said Alexandra. ‘Has David told you it’s all wrong yet?’
‘Not yet,’ said Lizzie. ‘I think he’s planning to let me finish it before he dismantles it.’
‘Sounds about right,’ said Alexandra. ‘So, Tel? How are you doing?’
‘Mustn’t grumble, Lex,’ said Terry. ‘So David’s got two of you to help out today? He planning to get some new stock? I’ve seen some of that for months now.’
‘Always on the lookout for something good, Terry,’ said David. ‘So I’ll give your stall a miss. If you two girls don’t mind setting up, I’ll have a wander. See if anyone’s else has got anything worth buying.’
