The Bronze Lady (Woodford Antiques Mystery Book 2) (7 page)

BOOK: The Bronze Lady (Woodford Antiques Mystery Book 2)
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Chapter 15

 

Saturday 19
th
December 2015, 8.00am

 

 

‘Good morning Mrs Isaac.’

‘Good morning Mr Isaac.’

Gemma and Peter grinned at each other as they lay in bed. They decided not to go away for a honeymoon, partly because their wedding had taken place at such short notice so trying to book anything in the weeks leading up to Christmas was going to be difficult, but also because there wasn’t anywhere else they wanted to be. This was fortunate because with Jackie now on several months’ sick leave, and Peter’s daughter only recently installed as the newest member of the Woodford Equine Veterinary Practice team, the timing would have meant that Peter’s absence would inevitably have caused an awful lot of stress to several people, including Peter himself. Gemma and her sister Lisa had taken the unprecedented decision to close the Woodford Tearooms for seven days’ holiday from the Thursday before the wedding to the following Wednesday. Originally Peter had also been going to have this time as annual leave, but he and Gemma had agreed he would just take the Friday and Saturday off.

They were going to start house-hunting, because although Gemma’s cottage was big enough for them both to live in, and was ideally situated on Farnham Road which led from Woodford High Street towards the neighbouring village of Brackendon and faced the large open common land named The Green, it wasn’t quite big enough to accommodate both her sons and his daughters for family gatherings. As Peter’s daughters lived far enough away to warrant staying over night when they visited, both Gemma and Peter were keen to make their stay as comfortable as possible when they did come. Their children were all old enough to have their own partners, and in a couple of cases dogs and horses too, although Peter wasn’t planning to find a house with ‘room for a pony’.

‘Come on Mrs Isaac, let’s get up and open our wedding presents!’ said Peter, as he leapt out of bed, patting Gemma’s Staffie Suzy, who had crept up the stairs hoping not to be noticed, on the head as he went past. ‘I can hear noises downstairs in the kitchen so it sounds as though the rest of the family have turned up ready for breakfast. I’ll go and see if there is any coffee and chocolate croissants left and save some for us, while you gather up a pen and paper so we can make sure we send Thank You cards to everyone. Let the wedding present opening begin!’

Despite requesting no personal presents, just the guests’ presence at their marriage ceremony, several people had chosen to ignore this and produced deliciously gift-wrapped items in the preceding days and on the wedding day itself. Gemma and Peter had both been married before, they were in their forties and fifties respectively, and had over fifty years of accumulated possessions between them, although Peter’s had taken a radical down-sizing in recent years. They had more than enough ‘stuff’ to fill Gemma’s three bedroom cottage.

Peter’s mother and his daughters Jennifer and Alison had stayed at Lisa’s house, along with Lisa and Caroline, while Nathan who was home for the Christmas holidays had stayed at his brother Daniel’s flat, and Lisa’s son Robert had stayed at his boyfriend’s house. As agreed everybody, minus their girlfriends and boyfriends, were meeting at Gemma’s cottage for a morning-after-the-day-before breakfast. Once more of the fresh coffee was brewed and the home-made croissants were hot, crunchy, and the chocolate pieces inside were melted to the optimum tongue-stripping perfection, Mr and Mrs Isaac joined their family, both still in their pyjamas.

‘This is better than Christmas Day!’ laughed Peter, as he started to untie an elaborate silver bow. ‘Oh Gemma, look at this, how beautiful, a framed photograph of our children. When did you all organise to have this taken?’

‘Oh!’ Gemma’s eyes teared up. ‘How thoughtful of you all. I bet this was your idea Alison wasn’t it? I can’t imagine when you all found the time to get together to have it taken.’

Two hours later they had dispensed with the pen and paper, drunk another pot of coffee, and made numerous telephone calls as one after another the celebratory wrappings revealed meaningful personalised gifts, including a perfectly cast beautiful model of a nineteenth century cold-painted Vienna bronze Staffordshire Bull Terrier on a stand with an inscription added to the plate engraved with their wedding date.

‘This is far too generous of your workmates,’ said Gemma thoughtfully, frowning as she took a sip of coffee. The card said the bronze had been given to them by Peter’s senior partners in the Woodford Equine Veterinary Practice, Jackie Martin and Alastair Wilkinson, and the three veterinary nurses and two administration staff. ‘But perfect. I love it. I think it should take pride of place here on the mantelpiece, don’t you?’

‘Yes, it will look great up there. I wonder who found it, and where?’

Neither of them noticed Jennifer and Alison exchanging a conspiratorial smile.

Peter carried on ‘These bronzes can be very valuable, we’d probably better check the house insurance covers it. I think a Thank You card would be best, rather than phone everyone individually, and I’ll take some cake in when I go back to work tomorrow. One of your fruit cakes, and a chocolate cake maybe, pretty please, oh best sister-in-law in the world?’

Lisa laughed, ‘Yes, alright, I think that is an excellent idea.’

Gemma added ‘And a card and a cake for everyone at Black’s Auctions as well, don’t you think?  This funny silver framed cartoon of a horse casually drinking a mug of tea while the vet struggles to run around the field is inspired. I’ll have a bet with you that Rebecca Williamson found this one. Oh,’ she sighed and gave her new husband a hug, ‘aren’t we lucky to have such wonderful family and friends.’ She turned to include everybody in the room. ‘We didn’t give you much time to help us celebrate our wedding vows, and yet everyone we asked came to the ceremony, and all these people ignoring our request for no presents by coming up with such thoughtful gifts! How wonderful to be starting the day with our close family, drinking coffee and eating chocolate croissants, perfect.’

‘Uh oh she’s going to get emotional,’ complained Nathan. ‘Right, enough of this, get dressed you two, let’s all take the dogs and go for a walk to burn off some of the booze and cake we have been guzzling for the last twenty four hours.’

‘Excellent idea!’ said everyone.

 

Chapter 16

 

Sunday 20
th
December 2015, 9.55am

 

 

‘Good morning Nicola!  How are you?’ called Cliff from behind the counter of Williamson Antiques, as one of his employees Nicola Stacey walked in through the front door. They were the only two working in the antiques centre, the other two members of staff, Barry and Des, were already on their Christmas holidays.

‘Morning Cliff, I am fine thank you. Wasn’t it a lovely day on Friday? I am so pleased for Gemma and Peter; they are such a nice couple.’

‘Yes it was a good ‘Do’ wasn’t it. Mike and Sarah did them proud as always. How was your head yesterday morning?  You were knocking back the fizz a bit weren’t you?’ he said teasingly.

‘Mine was fine,’ she retorted sharply. ‘I was not ‘knocking back the fizz’ as you so rudely put it. I only had three glasses all night!  It was the sloe gin which did for me,’ she admitted, grinning at her boss, as memories of the evening flitted through her brain. ‘You on the other hand looked stone cold sober!’

‘Oh yes, reformed man, me,’ said Cliff proudly. ‘Well, after the last few months I thought I owed it to myself and my family not to get into any more embarrassing incidents, and I had to be fit to open this place yesterday,’ he said seriously.

‘Yes you do owe them that,’ said Nicola, a touch more righteously than she intended. Quickly she changed her tone ‘Cuppa then Cliff?’

‘No thanks, I’ve already got one, but the kettle only boiled ten minutes ago so go upstairs and make yourself one and I’ll see you when you come back down. We have a new stall holder coming in later today so I will need to run through a few things with you after your week off.’

As Nicola ran up the stairs to the antiques centre’s small kitchen and made herself a coffee, Cliff sat back in his chair and reflected how things had changed for him over the last few months, and how if Gemma and Peter’s wedding had been this time last year he probably would not have even gone. The knowledge that he would have chosen to spend time with his mistress rather than with his beautiful wife Rebecca at a friend’s marriage celebrations was painful to him now. He would have done anything to go as Rebecca’s Significant Other this year, but she, quite rightly, would not consider his suggestion, and instead had happily gone on her own. Cliff’s confidence had taken a battering in recent months, and he had been very reluctant to even go to the wedding at all, but Paul insisted that they close their businesses for the afternoon and go together, as he too was without a date for the event having recently managed to screw up his latest romance. At least Rebecca hadn’t found a date to go with; Cliff was grateful for small mercies, and he felt he had behaved appropriately at all times whilst still making sure she knew his feelings for her. Maybe, if he kept up this behaviour, she would eventually give in.

By the time Nicola walked back downstairs a couple of antiques dealers had come in to check their stands and cabinets, and Cliff had pulled himself together and was ready to bring her up-to-date with the previous week’s news and the following week’s plans. Nicola thought he still looked a bit paler than normal, and wondered if he would ever regain his previous bounce and enthusiasm for life. The events and revelations of the previous few months had been shocking for everybody. He had undoubtedly been responsible for his own behaviour, and as a result of his actions much of the respect she used to have for him for the last nineteen years was irretrievably lost. However she greatly admired the way he had managed to pick himself up, and attempt to re-build his life and the business he so nearly lost. She had always liked him and hoped that things would work out well for him, soon.

Cliff was sitting behind the counter with a list in front of him, and as soon as Nicola was settled in her chair next to him he began. ‘I have given permission for one of those television antiques shows to turn up here at any time in the next six weeks. They should ring us a day or so beforehand, but, according to a dealer in Swanwick, when they filmed in his shop the film crew and stars of the show all turned up at his door five minutes before closing time.’

‘Oooh is it the one which films at Black’s Auctions? What was the name, oh yes, Antiques For All. Apparently one of the film crew was having sex with an antiques dealer in the car park!’

‘Yes I heard,’ groaned Cliff. ‘We don’t want any of that going on here. We have had enough bad publicity.’

Nicola laughed. Poor Cliff, he really had had a tough time of it lately. Sex seemed to follow him everywhere he went, and not in a good way. She steered the subject onto safer ground. ‘So if they are not going to give us much notice you need to be ready at any time for cameras to start rolling. Why on earth have you agreed to this? I thought you held the view these shows are ruining the antiques trade?’

‘Oh I do, but the business is so poor I decided if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em!’

‘Well don’t go giving away stuff for free like they usually do, or every Tom Dick and Harry will think they can do the same,’ grumbled Nicola.

‘I may not be the one who is here when they come.’

Cliff laughed at the look of horror on Nicola’s face.

‘You cannot seriously expect me to be on television! No! No way.’ Her face brightened as she thought of someone ‘If they turn up when you’re not here I’ll phone Sarah Handley. She would LOVE to be on an antiques show.’

‘Right, that’s sorted then,’ Cliff was still laughing as he looked at his list. ‘Next...’ but he was interrupted as the door opened.

‘Brrrrr, it’s cold out there!’ said Hazel Wilkinson as she walked into the antiques centre. Hazel was one of those women whose age is difficult to guess. Her hair was all variations of grey from very dark to white, and she wore it scooped up with various pins and combs. Her clothes were usually ankle-length patterned skirts worn with plain coloured fitted tops and jackets, and she had a variety of long earrings and big necklaces, and always wore several rings on her fingers. She could have been anywhere between forty five and sixty five years old, but Nicola guessed she was nearer sixty because she taught Nicola when she was at Woodford Secondary School.

‘Ah Hazel, excellent timing Mrs Wilkinson, I was just about to tell Nicola that you would be joining us. Are you parked around the back?’

‘Yes I am. Alastair is there too with his estate car which he has had to empty of all his vet stuff, so both of our cars are full to bursting with china. I think today may be the first time since he bought that car twelve years ago he has seen the back seats!’

‘Come with me,’ Cliff stood up from his chair and beckoned Hazel to walk with him to the back of the huge room, where a set of large double doors opened out to the area at the rear of the antiques centre. Nicola joined them and between the four of them the Wilkinsons’ cars were emptied in a quarter of the time it took to pack them.

‘That is the last box for today, thank goodness.’ Hazel surveyed the pile of boxes and sized up the available shelf space. ‘I am so pleased to have all of this out of our spare room, I had forgotten what the carpet looked like! Now all I have to do is unpack it all and display it to its best advantage.’

Nicola laughed, ‘I’ll go and make you a tea or a coffee now then, if you are going to be staying in one place for a while. What would you like?’

‘Oh tea please, lovely, thanks.’

‘Milk? Sugar?’

‘Just some milk please. Thanks Nicola, that is very welcome.’

Before she retired from teaching Hazel had lived and taught in the Woodford area all of her life. She decided to retire the year before with her husband, Alastair, and the pair of them now spent as much time as possible on their beloved canal boat exploring various waterways, and hiring boats for those unreachable by water in their own boat.

Over the years Hazel had amassed a large collection of china statues, decorative plates, and other ornaments, regularly visiting the monthly local Drayton Flea Market and scouring Black’s Auctions catalogues for treasures. But time spent on the canals had given her a new perspective on life, and she no longer felt the need to collect these items but still enjoyed the research and thrill of the purchase, so had decided to be sensible about it and turn her hobby into a little business. She had given herself a year to become established in Williamson Antiques, to see if she could make as well as spend money, and was very excited about the whole enterprise.

While Nicola was upstairs waiting for the kettle to boil, Alastair had returned home with his empty car, Cliff had gone to collect his fourteen year old daughter Charlotte from a friend’s house, and Hazel was transferring the contents of several cardboard boxes to the shelves of her new antiques stand, another newcomer to the antiques centre was just starting to bring boxes of stock in from his van parked out in the small car park at the back of the building. When Nicola came back downstairs with two steaming mugs of tea, Hazel whispered ‘What’s his name?’

‘No idea,’ whispered back Nicola. ‘I saw him in the Woodford Tearooms a few weeks ago, and he seems to know his way around here. Hang on, Cliff wrote a list for me on the counter, here we are, you are number two and under number three he has written Rowland Mitchell. This must be him. I’ll go and check.’

Hazel watched as Nicola walked over to introduce herself to the man they guessed was Rowland Mitchell. Their conversation was brief, and he clearly did not want to stop unloading the items from his car in order to be polite, so Nicola gave up and returned to Hazel’s stand.

‘He is not very friendly is he?’ whispered Hazel.

‘No, not very. Whiffs a bit too. I have never seen him in here before, have you?’

Hazel shook her head, and they both decided to find something more worthwhile to do.

BOOK: The Bronze Lady (Woodford Antiques Mystery Book 2)
11.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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