Lizzie, who was setting up a row of little figures she assumed were Chinese, looked at her friend in horror. ‘But, Alexandra! Supposing someone wants to buy something? We won’t know what anything costs!’
‘David’s got a book,’ Alexandra explained. ‘We find out what he paid and then add on as much as we think we can get away with.’
‘What I wouldn’t do to get a look at David’s book,’ said Terry, eyeing up Alexandra, judging his chances on getting one.
‘Don’t you mean a “butcher’s hook”, Tel?’ said Alexandra, one eyebrow raised, looking her most aristocratic.
Terry laughed loudly.
‘When David’s back, we can put prices on,’ said Alexandra. ‘You’ve got neat writing. He’d love it if people can read the tickets. He likes to be descriptive but no one can ever read my writing.’
Lizzie laughed. Mme Wilson had said her friend’s writing looked like ‘loose knitting’.
Lizzie enjoyed writing on the little tags that David attached with cotton thread to the items.Victorian silver tea caddy, hallmarked Chester, 1900. And the price.
People came and went on the stall. At first it was all dealers, who used expressions like ‘What’s the absolute death on that?’ when they wanted to buy something.
David really reduced prices for ‘the trade’, he explained, when someone walked off with something for less than half the price on the tag. ‘The real punters, the ones who pay proper retail prices, come later. You carry on getting those tags written. You have such nice writing!’
The hours passed quickly. They sat on their chairs, Lizzie carefully writing labels, David and Alexandra talking to passers-by, sometimes selling something.
Later, after lunch had been bought from the same stall as the one that had provided breakfast, Lizzie tried her hand at selling and Alexandra was pleased with her for getting rid of a little tea caddy that was quite damaged. ‘I’ve been trying to get rid of that for ages. It’s pretty, but its condition is poor.’
‘Condition is all important, sweetie,’ said David. ‘I’ve told you that enough times.’
‘I know!’ said Alexandra. ‘But you need never see that battered tea caddy again!’
Lizzie was just inscribing ‘Danish art nouveau silver Liberty-style flower buttons’ – items she would have loved to buy for herself had they not been so pricey, when she heard a voice she thought she recognised.
‘Now this is more like!’ said Electra, picking up the buttons although Lizzie hadn’t quite finished writing the tag. ‘Much more appealing than those boring old tools. Maybe you could buy them for me?’
Electra turned her head to talk to Hugo, who was looking attentive. He had a brown-paper-wrapped bundle under one arm and was holding several carrier bags in the other hand.
Lizzie wanted to die. She’d gone to all this trouble to try and see Hugo again but somehow it hadn’toccurred to her that Electra would be there too. Now, she didn’t know if she should try and keep her head down, or look up and say hello. She had decided not to draw attention to her presence and hope they’d go away when Alexandra spoke.
‘Oh, hi! Electra! We met at Vanessa’s. Alexandra.’ Alexandra put her hand out so Electra was forced to drop the buttons in order to shake it. ‘Do you like those? They’re so stylish, aren’t they? Contemporary somehow, although of course they are old.’
Lizzie knew she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t there any longer. ‘Hello!’ she said. ‘I’m just writing the price tag for those buttons.’
‘And what does the price tag say?’ Hugo asked, his gaze making Lizzie blush, even though he could have just been looking at the stall.
‘Oh, don’t take any notice of the price tag. David will give you a good deal, won’t you, David?’ Alexandra seemed determined to sell those buttons. Lizzie wondered if she was on commission, she was being so helpful.
David laughed, every inch the charming actor/antiques dealer. ‘I’m sure we can do something. What price were we putting on them, Lizzie?’
Lizzie told him.
‘My goodness!’ said Electra. ‘That’s ridiculously expensive, even if I’m not paying!’
Lizzie felt offended on David’s behalf. ‘They are unique. Buttons like this are rare and would make any garment extremely special.’ Then she decided to relax a little and smiled. ‘I’ve got my eye on them myself, so I don’t want you to buy them. I have a dress they would look lovely on. Sometimes changing the buttons can make the world of difference.’
This was all true. She had a short, pale pink velvet fitted dress she had adapted from one of Gina’s discarded garments. It had sleeves to the elbow and she had added a satin frill. It had a deep round neck and Lizzie was really pleased with it. But the buttons would make the dress something really special.
Knowing there was competition for the buttons made Electra became far more enthusiastic. ‘So, what would you sell them to me for?’ she asked.
Lizzie told her again.
Electra laughed. ‘No one ever pays the price on the ticket.’
