Read A French Affair Online

Authors: Katie Fforde

A French Affair (8 page)

‘That’s probably true,’ said Clare. ‘She and I used to get up to all sorts in London. She used to invite me to gigs and we’d go round to the stars’ dressing rooms afterwards.’

‘You weren’t groupies, were you?’ Gina was rather shocked.

‘We didn’t sleep with all and sundry if that’s what you mean, darling,’ said Clare, a little amused. ‘But we had a lot of fun.’

As Gina tottered up to bed, far later than was sensible for someone with a very early start and a long day ahead, she realised she’d had a lot of fun too. She couldn’t wait to tell Sally that their Aunt Rainey really had been a personal friend of the Beatles!

Chapter Seven
 


I CAN SEE
why you were worried about it being hard for Sally to find us,’ said Gina at eight o’clock the following morning as Matthew drove into a car park the size of an airfield. ‘It seems to cover to infinity and beyond, to quote Buzz Lightyear. Where is the building?’

Matthew appeared not to have heard of Buzz Lightyear. ‘It’s the site of the Newark showground and absolutely huge, but don’t worry. We’ll work out some way of meeting up with her.’

Knowing that Newark was the biggest antiques fair in Europe was one thing, actually seeing it in real life was different altogether. As Matthew slid his Volvo in between two others Gina said, ‘Will you be able to find the car again?’

‘People do lose their cars, but so far I’ve always managed to find mine.’

Despite the hour there was already quite a long queue waiting to buy their entrance tickets. There was a huge selection of people: men in tweed and corduroy; women dressed in woolly hats and shawls over their fleeces; young girls in tight jeans with leg warmers, already giggling; and every other sort of person in between.

Many had small carts, or trolleys, or home-made versions of the same. One woman had a tower of crates as high as she was, lashed together with rope. Others, and she was one of these, had large light bags slung over their shoulders. There were a few dogs too. Gina was disappointed not to see one set up with panniers – it wouldn’t have looked at all out of place.

‘Is this really the sort of place you’d come to if you couldn’t walk?’ murmured Gina to Matthew as, getting nearer the mobile ticket office, she spotted a raft of what looked like mobility scooters.

He chuckled. ‘I promise you, people who can walk perfectly well hire those. The distance you have to cover makes it sensible. Others have bikes to speed up and down between the stalls. It does make it quicker.’

‘Would you have brought a bike if I hadn’t been with you?’ Gina demanded, feeling instantly guilty.

‘It’s all right, I have a couple of friends who will lend me theirs if I feel the need. Here’s one of them now.’

A tall man with curly hair, a beret and a pushbike came to say hello before joining the back of the queue. ‘Mornin’, Matt,’ he said, revealing a cockney accent and a wicked smile.

‘Jake.’ Matthew nodded. ‘This is Gina. She’s taking over Rainey’s spot in the centre.’

‘Oh yeah, I heard that Rainey had died. Sad. She was a great woman. A real eccentric.’

Gina – in jeans, fleece and comfy trainers – sensed disappointment. ‘My sister Sally, who’s also taking over the spot, is much more like her.’

Jake laughed. ‘Nah, you’re all right.’ He turned his attention to Matthew. ‘Looking for anything special?’

‘Just some good saleable pieces.’

Gina couldn’t tell if Matthew was holding his cards close to his chest – she never wanted to play poker with him – or was simply telling the truth.

Jake pushed his arm playfully. ‘Don’t we all, mate. Let me know if you want to borrow the Dick Van Dyke.’ He winked at Gina. ‘That’s the bike to you.’ He moved off to join the line of people.

‘He seemed nice,’ said Gina.

‘Yes, really nice and straight as a die. He’s based over in Sussex so we don’t do business that often but I’ve had some nice pieces from him and him from me.’

While Matthew was paying for their tickets, which were in the form of a label like those at race meetings, Gina heard her phone bleep. It was a text from Sally. ‘Should be with you at about ten.’

As Gina tied her label on to the zip of her bag she told Matthew. ‘She must have left the house at about five this morning,’ she said in amazement. ‘She’s really keen.’

‘Well, let’s see if we can get you some nice pieces before she gets here, to start you off. Then I’ll leave you girls alone for a bit.’

Gina contemplated objecting to being referred to as a girl but decided it was a waste of energy. ‘Will we be able to get much with five hundred pounds?’

‘I should hope so. That’s quite a lot of money if you’re going for small stuff.’

‘What sort of things do you think we should go for?’ She gazed around. There were row upon row of stalls and she could barely see to the end of them. She felt it would be very easy to get lost. ‘There’s so much here. I don’t know where to start.’

‘Here’s as good as any,’ said Matthew setting off down one of the avenues.

Gina followed, feeling completely out of her depth. As they walked, she looked left and right, trying to take in as much as she could.

‘I think some art deco pieces would look nice with the scent bottles,’ said Matthew. ‘Rainey loved art deco.’

‘I don’t know the difference between deco and nouveau,’ confessed Gina. ‘In fact the amount I know about antiques could be written on the back of quite a small postage stamp.’

‘Nouveau is more plants and natural things and deco is more geometric and was a bit later. But don’t worry about not knowing anything. You’ll learn.’

‘Oh look,’ said Gina, unreasonably offended by him saying she knew nothing, ‘there are some lovely pieces on that stall.’

‘Yes,’ said Matthew. He stopped. ‘Would you mind if I did the business for you? No offence, but you haven’t got enough money to be able to waste it and any dealer worth his salt will be able to tell you’re a novice and will get every penny out of you he can. He won’t try that on me.’

‘But how will I learn if I don’t do it?’ Gina did want his assistance but felt she had to take the plunge some time.

‘As I said, when Sally gets here I’ll leave you to your own devices but it would be good to get some nice bits before then.’

Gina sighed. ‘How are we going to work it, then?’

‘I’ll get you some choice pieces at rock-bottom prices.’

He made it sound so simple but Gina wasn’t happy. ‘But if you buy things we don’t like – or I don’t like – we
won’t be able to sell them. I have to choose the pieces,’ she said firmly.

‘But if the dealer knows I’m buying them for you he’ll still charge more.’

Gina had to agree this was true. ‘OK, we’ll amble past, deep in conversation, and I’ll tell you what I’ve liked when we’re out of earshot.’

Matthew looked down at her. ‘You are completely mad, you know that? Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to just get some things I know you can make a profit on?’

Gina’s business brain said yes, this was the sensible solution, but she felt if she started her career as an antiques dealer depending on others completely, she might never have the courage to break free. ‘I’m sure. Let’s do this.’

She took hold of his arm, leaning into it so she could look absorbed in him while really having a good look at the stall. ‘Walk really slowly and pretend we’re deep in conversation,’ she said.

‘What are we talking about?’ said Matthew.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Yes it does. I can’t be deep and meaningful if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be feeling.’

Gina was surprised. ‘You’re not making a joke, are you?’

‘Good God no! As if. I just need to get into my part.’

Pushing aside the thought that he might have a sense of humour, Gina applied herself to a subject that could be engrossing them. ‘Could we be discussing where we’re going on holiday?’ It was the only thing she could come up with that felt safe.

‘Not at Newark. No, we’ll discuss whether or not to buy the huge armoire we saw earlier. Will it fit in the dining room or not.’

They hadn’t seen an armoire but she got the point. ‘Oh, OK. Let’s do it then.’

Matthew threw himself into the part. He gripped her arm. ‘Darling, I think if we threw out every other bit of furniture that armoire could look really quite important . . .’

She was momentarily thrown by his use of ‘darling’, then she reminded herself he was only playing a part. And if they weren’t a couple, they’d have to be colleagues which could reveal her complete lack of knowledge. She picked up the line and ran with it. ‘But what would we eat off if we threw out the table and chairs? We’d have an armoire we could almost move into and have to eat Christmas dinner off our knees!’ Gina’s often buried sense of the ridiculous burst forth.

‘Don’t forget to look at the stall,’ prompted Matthew as they became level with it.

Gina did her best to peruse the stall while walking along. She spotted an interestingly shaped vase and what seemed to be an oddly sized tile.

‘OK, can we go back the other way so I can have another look?’ she said.

‘Do you want to change arms? That would look odd.’

‘No, I can look across.’ Gina rather liked holding Matthew’s arm. He felt strong and his overcoat, although old enough to have been his father’s, was cashmere.

They turned and then set off again a few yards up the alley between two rows of stalls and then back again.

‘Seen anything else?’ said Matthew.

Gina had been wondering why she found it so nice hanging on to Matthew’s arm as she walked. She put it down to her latish night and early start. ‘Sorry,’ she said, ‘
I was distracted by the thought of being with a man who’d throw out all the dining-room furniture for what is really just a posh wardrobe.’

‘We’ll make another pass then.’

Gina giggled at his fencing terminology but did remember to have a good look.

‘OK, I saw some really nice coffee cups—’

‘Cans.’

He was such a stickler. ‘Cans then, and another vase, but really I think I need a closer look. Then you can get an idea of what I like and I might not mind you doing the buying.’

To his credit, he didn’t sigh. ‘Fair enough.’

As a couple, they wheeled into the stall. ‘Oh
darling
,’ said Gina, now well into her role. ‘I really like those coffee cu— cans. They’re so contemporary!’

The dealer raised his eyes and smiled. ‘Late-eighteenth/early-nineteeth-century Wedgwood.’

‘That old?’ Gina’s amazement was genuine. The cups had a blue and white chequered pattern with little emblems on the white squares. ‘Really, you wouldn’t be surprised to see these in Harrods as part of some new collection.’

‘Indeed. But I think you’d probably want to give a whole set as a wedding present – darling – and this pair are probably beyond our price range.’

‘Oh,’ said Gina, who’d had a good scan of the stall, ‘you’d have thought second-hand things would be cheaper.’

Her reward was a pinch on her arm. ‘Anything else you like, my love?’ said Matthew.

‘I quite like that vase.’ She indicated a rather odd-shaped
article which, from a distance, could have been the outline of a woman with nothing above the shoulders. Closer to one could see a painting of a woman with butterflies for hair and a spider at the centre of her torso.

‘I don’t think Evangeline would though,’ said Matthew.

‘Evangeline?’ Where on earth did he get a name like that for their fictional bride? she wondered. ‘Oh, I always call her Angie. I forgot she had that weird name.’ She pinched Matthew this time. Being clamped together had some advantages.

She was seeing a whole new side to Matthew and she rather liked it. Deciding it was time she spoke for herself, she unclamped herself and asked the stallholder, who seemed good-natured and friendly, ‘What about that tile thing? Is that expensive?’

‘This is a Compton Pottery plaque, made about nineteen hundred,’ he said.

‘And how much is it?’ said Gina, worried that Matthew would expose himself as a dealer by saying ‘What’s your best on that?’

‘Two hundred pounds to you, love,’ said the dealer.

‘And a lot less to anyone else probably,’ Gina replied. ‘Come on, darling, let’s find a nice chandelier.’

She was aware of Matthew shaking as they walked along, again clamped in a newly-weds’ clasp. ‘Are you laughing?’ she demanded. ‘That was my very best acting. I should get an Oscar.’

‘You do have a certain comic talent and you mustn’t mind if I laugh.’

Gina found she didn’t mind at all. ‘I’ll forgive you.’

‘But we’re no nearer getting you anything for your stall,’ he said, steering her to a relatively quiet spot whilst they
took stock. ‘Here’s another plan. You go to a stall, on your own, and ask the price of anything you like. Choose a few things. Then back away as if it’s all way too much. I’ll spy on you from a distance and see how many of the things I can get at a reasonable price.’

‘It sounds brilliant but how good were you at Kim’s game as a child?’

‘Sorry?’

‘You know, there are a number of objects placed on a tray and you have to remember as many as possible after the tray is taken away. Children’s parties? Didn’t you play that?’

‘I think that was probably more a game for girls,’ he said disparagingly. ‘But I do have a good memory for objects. It goes with the territory. Off you go. There’s a likely stall over there.’ He pointed to one full of little bits and pieces – much like the stuff Rainey had in her suitcase. Gina’s eyes lit up. This was more like it, surely she could find something here to buy and at a good price.

She enjoyed looking at the objects and hoped Matthew was able to see which ones she was asking about. She found a small vase even she recognised as Moorcroft, which she hoped wouldn’t be beyond the budget; she held it up, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious, but wanting to make sure Matthew saw it in between the other people milling round the stall. Next she spotted a pair of candlesticks she just thought were pretty but turned out to be worth over a thousand pounds. She shook her head and a charming nightlight in the shape of a lighthouse caught her eye. It seemed a snip at fifty. She fell in love with a bowl decorated with fish but when she heard that was five hundred pounds she
realised most of the stall was beyond her. She moved away to let Matthew work his magic but she doubted if he’d be able to negotiate enough to make them affordable. She glanced at her watch. It was nine thirty already. She spotted a coffee stall and decided that was as good a place to meet Sally as any.

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