A noble bird, a desk’s delight,
Buy it now and sleep at night!’
Daniel looked horrified as he sung the last word. ‘That was absolutely dreadful and didn’t make any sense whatsoever!’
Fern clapped. ‘I love it! Now, let’s film it.’
She whipped out her phone, adjusted the angle, and started recording. ‘Welcome to No. 17 Curiosity Lane, where history gets a soundtrack!’
Daniel, grinning, launched into his duck ballad once more, hamming it up with theatrical eyebrow wiggles and a dramatic flourish at the end. He held the duck aloft like a prize-winning trophy.
They reviewed the footage, and Fern cackled. ‘It’s ridiculous, and it’s perfect.’
Daniel peered at the video. ‘So now what?’
‘Now,’ she said, uploading it to the shop’s freshly made TikTok account, ‘we unleash it on the world and put a price in the title.’
‘It’s worth pennies!’
‘And pennies add up. If we can make more than the porcelain doll, the only thing that has sold in weeks, then we take that as a win.’
Within minutes, the comments began rolling in:
‘I don’t know why, but I need this duck.’
‘What in the Kate Bush fever dream is this??’
‘If I buy the duck, do I get a personalised song?’
‘What exactly does that mean?’ asked Daniel, perplexed until Fern explained.
‘A Kate Bush fever dream means it’s theatrical, and slightly eccentric. Her music and videos are often dreamy, dramatic and visually striking. The views are going up so quickly!’
Daniel blinked. ‘Wait. Are we… trending?’
Fern refreshed the page. ‘I think it may take more views than we have right now, but we’re definitely setting the trend!’
He stared at her, then at the duck. ‘Well. Guess I’d better start tuning up for episode two.’ He strummed his guitar, then they clinked their glasses together before Fern began searching for the next item to sell.
ChapterFifteen
Afew hours later Fern and Daniel lay sprawled on the bed, their backs propped up against the pillows, the glow from Fern’s phone illuminating their faces in the dimly lit room. No. 17 Curiosity Lane had just made its third sale in less than an hour, and neither of them could quite believe it.
‘I mean, we actually sold the duck.’ Fern let out a laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.
Daniel grinned, stretching his arms behind his head. ‘And a porcelain potty; that’s an achievement in itself.’
‘Sales are now over forty quid. Isn’t social media just thebest? Instead of waiting for customers to walk through the door, we’re bringing what we have to them.’ Fern had immensely enjoyed her evening; in fact, she’d not had this much fun in ages. She turned her phone towards Daniel, displaying the long thread of comments beneath their post. People had been fascinated, entertained and, more importantly, ready to buy.
‘I’m still not over the fact someone actually paid money for it.’ She tapped her screen, scrolling. ‘And look! We’ve got bids on the set of haunted spoons and the Victorian-era wig stand.’
Daniel smirked. ‘Let’s be honest, that wig stand is nightmare fuel. I wouldn’t keep it in this flat if you paid me.’
Fern arched a brow at him. ‘This from the man who sleeps beneath a moose’s head?’
He shrugged. ‘Me and that moose have an understanding.’
Rolling her eyes, Fern returned her attention to the phone. The thrill of selling eccentric antiques had turned into something of an addiction. She refreshed the page, anticipation buzzing in her veins. Then…
