Flora's Lot by Katie Fforde (13 inch ebook reader TXT) 📕

never made a mintwhen you were a dealer, Geoff,' saidanother porter. 'You couldn't resist hanging on to the best stuff.’

Flora remembered that Geoffrey and Edie's house had some very nice pieces in it. He laughed. 'You maywell be right there,lad. Now, are we going to do any work, or are we just here for decoration?’

*

Flora was in the yard, helping Geoffrey make acollection of gardengnomes look attractive, when he looked at his watch. 'Five minutes to kick-off. I expectCharles will start butAnnabelle should do out here really, get these small lots out of the way.'

‘Why won't she then?' Flora felt itmight be quite fun persuading peopleto part with hard cash for these cute littlegentlemen who seemed to have fallen on hard times, judging by the stateof their pointy hats.

‘Because it's beneath her. She only likes doing the posh stuff. Not that she's anygood at it, mind.'

‘Poor Annabelle! Noone has a good word to say for her.’

Geoffrey snorted. 'She's a rubbish auctioneer. Shecan't get the crowd onher side for one thing. You'll have to learn how to do it. You wouldn't havethat trouble.’

Flora sighed. She acknowledged that she might verywell be able to get the people on her side, but even her short time at Stanza and Stanza had told her thatthere was a littlemore to it than that. And it involved sums. 'I don't think I'd fancy it. When you watch it ontelevision it seems terriblycomplicated.'

‘Once you've learnt the steps you go up in - you know, five, eight, ten, or three, five, eight, ten, whatever isappropriate - you'd be fine.'

‘Geoffrey, I have difficulty with mytwo times table, I don't quite seemyself with a gavel in my hand. Do you do it ever?’

He shook his head. 'Very rarely. Only if Annabelle doesn't want to. She doesn't like me doing itbecause she thinks I'monly a porter, although I reckon I could get more for this lot than she could.Not that she'll try, ofcourse.' He paused. 'Are you going to leave them like that?' He was referring to the gnomes.

‘I thought they looked rather sweetstanding in a circle,' said Flora. 'Ah, here comes the boss.’

Everything happened extremely quickly. The stuffy Charles Flora had come to know disappeared andturned into the star of the show.

‘Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,'he said with a smile, 'and a verylovely morning it is. Now, lot number one,a very appealing collection of garden gnomes who appear to be peeing into a pond. Who'll start me then, twenty pounds? No? Ten? Five? Think how charming they'd look on your patio. Five, thank you,eight? Ten, twelve, fifteen . . .thank you. Sold! And the next . .

Flora looked on in awe, aware that she was due to go and guard the small stuff on the stage but unableto tear herself away. It went incredibly quickly, lot after lot was knocked down and yet Charles never appeared tohurry. He had his audience enthralled, twitching their cards, eager to buy what he was selling. He seemedeven taller thanusual and infinitely more charming. She began to get an inkling of why all the porters seemed sofond of him: apartfrom the business side, he was good at his job.

But there was no time for Flora to stand and stareat her cousin. At last she stoppedwatching and hurried throughthe crowd and the furniture to the stage, where she stood by a table full of tea sets - somebeautiful, some mismatched, some frankly bizarre - and apologised to Virginia for being late.

‘We've managed fine. Annabelle wantedto tell one of us regulars to go home because of you being here, but Charleswouldn't let her.'

‘Virginia! You can't possibly know allthat. You're making it up because you hate Annabelle.'

‘Nonsense! She was asking me whichporter to lay off when Charles overheard. Honestly.’

Flora grinned. She really liked Virginia but feltshe was wasted as anauctioneer's porter and a subversive secondsoprano. She should have been in espionage.

When all the lots on the floor had been sold andmany of them removedby quietly working porters with trolleys,the attention of the room turned to the stage.

‘We'vegot some quite valuable lots up here today,' said Virginia. 'I expect Annabelle will sell it. Ithink Charles letsher in the hope that she'll get to like it, or at least get a bit better.’

Virginia was proved right and Annabelle took over from Charles. She settled herself at the desk,cleared her throat and thentook a sip of water. The room waited forher to be ready. Flora could hear Virginia, clutching a huge Staffordshire ornament, tutting at the wasteof time.

Even Flora's very limited experience of auctionsales was enough totell her that Annabelle was not good at it. Her voice was high and shrill andshe behaved less like someoneencouraging people to buy things and more like an irritable headmistress demanding answers toquestions. It was little wonderthat few people put their hands up.

At first Flora felt self-conscious, standing at thefront of the stageholding strange items above her head, but that didn't last long and she spent the time, while Annabelle laboriously sent items under thehammer, looking at the crowd.

There were quite a lot of them. Virginia, next toher, ready to showthe lot after Flora's, indicated the people she knew, talking out of the corner of her mouth.

‘Theman in the hat is a dealer. He buys loads of glass and sells lots of it on. We see the same stuff timeafter time. He putsquite high reserves on sometimes so it often doesn't sell. But he makes a good living so itmust be worth it.’

Flora spotted the private buyers for herself. Therewere a couple ofwomen who were having a day out together and had obviously had a glass of wine at lunch. Theywere thoroughly enjoying themselves. The porters enjoyed themselves too, and kept going on sweetsand chocolates. Although they urgedeach other to take proper breaks no one liked to leave the action.

Charles took over from Annabelle quite soon. Flora had seen him at the desk, dealing with customers,and hoped he'd had time for a sandwich,at least.

‘They need another auctioneer,' saidVirginia to Flora, who was trying notto