The Spring Madness of Mr Sermon (12 page)

^{This remark was interpreted by Chipper as an invitation to join Mr. Sermon in prayer, so that they knelt side by side, their noses}

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^{almost touching the brass handles of the drawers. For a moment or so they communed in silence, then Chipper said: "You're trade, of course? Some distance away, I assume?"}

^{"York!" said Mr. Sermon, sitting back on his heels, "but not in the trade, not exactly that is. I was asked to come and bid on behalf of the family."}

^{No one, not even the cha-cha Mrs. Trowbridge who had lived with Chipper many years before running away with the Scoutmaster, could have divined from Chipper's reaction to this piece of information that it had already been passed to him in the crowded dining-room. He raised a pair of sandy eyebrows, showing just the right amount of interest and said: "Really? They must be very keen to get it! I wonder why? It's pleasant but not exceptional, is it?"}

^{"Sentimental value," said Mr. Sermon, feeling that he had got the measure of the man and reflecting how easy it was to lie to a total stranger. "Every family gets attached to one thing or another about the house, I suppose, and my clients-I'm a solicitor-have a special reason to want the piece."}

^{Chipper pursed his lips, eyeing the back of Mr. Sermon's head speculatively.}

^{"Would it be inquisitive on my part to ask that reason or . . . er . . . unprofessional on yours to tell me?" he asked but he was smiling now, a wide, tolerant smile that might have enlivened the face of an uncle teasing a favourite niece about boy-friends. Mr. Sermon's fears were exorcised by the smile and by the man's patently false urbanity which vanquished the last of his scruples. For a moment he groped about for plausible data and then, with a deep breath, he surfaced holding a name between his teeth. ^}

^{"Princess Charlotte!" he said and was rewarded by Chipper's interrogative eyebrow lift.}

^{"Charlotte? George IV's daughter? Was it ... hers?"}

^{"I ... er ... I can't swear to that," said Mr. Sermon, spellbound by his own recklessness, "but I'm given to understand that one of the family had a royal household post, that of tutor probably, in the early eighteen-hundreds and doubtless certain items of furniture ..." His voice trailed away as Chipper went down on his knees again}

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^{and seemed now to be crawling round and round the chest and looking, thought Mr. Sermon, rather like a St. Bernard scenting a tree. From behind them, through the open door, the monotonous voice of the auctioneer reached them, "... not going to dwell . . . everything here is to be sold . . . seventeen once, seventeen twice . . ·"
an
d then another soft rap, followed by the words "Mr. Vinnicombe", respectfully uttered. Tapper was obviously right, reflected Mr. Sermon, it was a day for The Boys and the public were not getting much of a show, but then a confused sound told him the dining-room was emptying and Mr. Sermon found himself washed into the far corner of the room as what seemed to be hundreds of people trampled on him, filling the room to suffocation point. Twice he fended himself off the window seat and tried to struggle back towards the chest but bodies blocked him on every side and he almost despaired of making himself heard or catching the auctioneer's eye. Fortunately, however, there were several lots to be sold before the chest and in the brief interval Mr. Sermon managed, by dint of much wriggling and knee-butting, to work his way on to the ledge of the window alcove. Here, to his great relief, he found he could look down on both Tapper and Chipper who were positioned each side of the auctioneer's stool.}

^{"Lot three hundred and eleven," croaked the auctioneer, "a marquetry chest of drawers in first-class condition. No reserve on this, ladies and gentlemen, so give me a start; fifteen pounds shall I say?"}

^{There was silence, a long, heavy silence it seemed to Sebastian, and then, as the auctioneer opened his mouth to protest, Tapper lifted his hand and the auctioneer said: "Thank you, Mr. Sugg. Fifteen pounds bid!"}

^{"Sixteen!" bawled Mr. Sermon, so loudly that everybody looked at him and he blushed but remained defiantly where he was perched, well clear of the crowd with his eye fixed on Chipper Trowbridge. He noted that there was no smile on the man's face now but a blankness relieved by a hard, brightness of the eye. Suddenly Chipper ifted his catalogue, whereupon Tapper lifted his and then Chipper lifted his a second time and the auctioneer said "Nineteen? Come}

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^{now gentlemen, let's be serious, don't let's waste each other's time!" and looked hopefully at Mr. Sermon.}

^{Without knowing why, Mr. Sermon was sure that his bidding had excited more than an ordinary interest and that the crowd, jaded after several hours in airless rooms, sensed real competition and settled down to enjoy a blow by blow contest.}

^{"Twenty-five!" he said clearly, and the auctioneer smiled his thanks and turned back to the two men behind him, watching not them but the rolled-up sale catalogues they used to announce their bids. Mr. Sermon had a feeling of being left far behind in the race, like a track-runner lapped by two champions and in less than thirty seconds the chest stood at sixty-five pounds and chatter ceased in all corners of the room.}

^{"Sixty-five once, sixty-five twice-it's against you, sir!" said the auctioneer, looking at the impassive Chipper.}

^{Mr. Sermon hesitated, unable to catch Tapper's eye and then, taking his courage in both hands he stood on tiptoe and waved his catalogue, feeling as he did so a sense of initiation that lifted him clear of the mass of people in the room and alongside the elite gathered in a patient knot round Steve Vinnicombe, King-o'-the Ring.}

^{"Seventy!" said the auctioneer. "I had an idea you weren't going to leave it at that, sir!" and then Mr. Sermon wilted, for he read tragedy in Tapper's brown eyes and suddenly felt chastened and helpless, a feeling reinforced by the recollection that seventy pounds was more than twice the amount he had about him and that the tough-looking auctioneer was almost certain to refuse a cheque from a stranger.}

^{He need not have worried. Even dealers are not inoculated against auction fever and Chipper's blood was up. He said, crisply and disdainfully: "Eighty, sir!" and Mr. Sermon subsided with relief as the misery drained from Tapper's face and the auctioneer paused, gavel aloft.}

^{"Have you done, sir?" he enquired politely of Mr. Sermon and Mr. Sermon cried out that he had, emphasising the fact by stepping down from the ledge and recoiling from the pneumatic behind of a plump woman standing immediately below.}

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^{"Sold to Mr. Trowbridge!" said the auctioneer loudly and Tapper passed his hand across his brow and eased his way back into the hall, whither Mr. Sermon was able to follow him as soon as the crowd had surged towards lots in a far corner of the room.}

^{"Lumme!" muttered Tapper, leading the way out into the open, "you had me scared bloody stiff, mate! I thought we were gonner be stuck with it. Still, I ought to have had more confidence I reckon, seein' 'ow you did over the picshures!" and he rubbed his hands gleefully. "What did you tell the perisher to push him up that far? Did you say "Enry Eight used the flippin" thing fer his trousseau?"}

^{"I mentioned that it was once the property of Princess Charlotte," said Mr. Sermon, nervous reaction making his voice squeaky, "and I must say, he seemed to believe it. He seemed very much taken with the piece."}

^{"Who the 'ell is Princess Charlotte?" demanded Tapper, and when Mr. Sermon told him something of the unfortunate girl's history he gave a low whistle and placed both hands on his hips, regarding Mr. Sermon with unqualified approval. "I reckon you ought to get into the swim, perfesser! It's like I said, you got something, a kind of... kind of or-then-tisserty if you know what I mean ? Old Chipper in there, he's a skate all right but he's nobody's fool an' never was! Yet his dander was up, I could spot that right orf. He'd have gone on and on and on sooner'n let either of us "ave it. Funny that! You never can't tell at an auction, not even with the craftiest of 'em. Bloody-minded they get, and to think that flippin* piece "as been standing in my back store all them months, with everyone faulting it right, left and centre! Almost makes you believe Princess Wotsit did pass it on when she kicked the bucket!"}

^{"In your store!" exclaimed Mr. Sermon, "your store, you said?"}

^{Tapper looked at him curiously. "Well, o' course," he said, "didn't I tell you?"}

^{"No, you certainly did not!" said Mr. Sermon stiffly.}

^{"That's right, I didn't," said Tapper, "because I didn't get the chance, did I? That piece was put in the sale a week or two back. Old Archie Coombes, the auctioneer, is a pal o* mine see, and as soon as this sale come up he give me a ring and sent the van round for it. And now Chipper's stuck with it at eighty, an' me thinking I was}

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^{stuck with it at thirty-five, plus carriage! But we ain't finished yet! I daresay he'll stick a bit more on it at the knockout, tho' that might be risky and I'll have to have a word with Steve about it!" and he suddenly forgot about Mr. Sermon and dived back into the house, remaining incommunicado until the crowd had surged out into the the courtyard to hear the garden implements sold. Then he re-appeared and led the way past the van and into a shrubbery beyond which was a rustic summer-house standing in a clearing.}

^{Mr. Sermon was surprised to find most of the dealers already assembled there, sitting or standing round Steve Vinnicombe who was seated at a table, a sheaf of papers confronting him.}

^{"What exactly is going on now?" demanded Sebastian, almost running alongside the fast-striding Tapper.}

^{"Knockout!" said Tapper. "This is the real auction and don't say nothing see, you don't so much as open your mouth, got me?" They took up their position on the steps and from what Mr. Sermon could make out from the grunts and gestures of the two dozen men and women enclosing Mr. Vinnicombe, it appeared that at least half the lots were being put up for auction all over again. He was not near enough to see or hear what happened when Lot No. 311 came up, but Tapper, who had abandoned him again, returned soon afterwards thumbing through a pile of notes that looked to Mr. Sermon to be as thick as the wad he had flashed in the cafe.}

^{"Lumme, this is what I call a good day!" he said, drawing Mr. Sermon away from the summer-house. "Chipper put another fifteen on that flippin" bit o' markitry and now it stands him in ninety-five! He'll be buried in it I reckon because it won't take him long to find out that the family never heard of it and then he'll come looking fer you with a chopper! Still, that's what comes o' chiselling in, don't it? He should've thought o' that when he was pumping you an' trying to get his claws in it so as he could ring up the family and say he held it and if they wanted it they'd have to cough up! Neat bit o' work that was, Steve himself said so. May teach him to leave a few crumbs around fer the rest of us now an' again!" and he dismissed the subject and devoted the whole of his attention to}

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^{counting his money, finally peeling off another ten pounds and stuffing them nonchalantly into Mr. Sermon's pocket.}

^{"I come off with fifty-seven!" he said, "and reckon ten o" that is yours
be
right, because the Trade wouldn't have looked at that markitry bit if you hadn't pulled the longbow. Thirty-seven, an' me a flippin' Rabbit! 'Streuth, I wonder what Steve an' the others'll get orf with today? Over the hundred apiece, I wouldn't wonder!" and he climbed into the van and started the engine, leaving Mr. Sermon to make what he could of his summary of the day's business.}

^{It crossed Mr. Sermon's mind that he had no right at all to the two five-pound notes in his jacket pocket and scarcely more to the twenty pounds given him for his part in the private buy but he was reluctant to reopen the subject with Tapper, sensing that the little man would be offended if he challenged the amount. He was aware that he had contributed to the wad of money now nestling in Tapper's bulging wallet but his curiosity was suspended by an overpowering drowsiness that advertised itself in vast yawns.}

^{"Will we be moving on to Kingsbay now?" he asked, as they turned into the main road and headed into the sunset. "I don't think I'd better leave it too late, I've got to find somewhere to stay for the night."}

^{"You c'n kip at our place if it comes to that," said Tapper, "and then find somewhere a bit cosier in the morning. I'm peckish tho'," he added, "so we'll stop off on the way for high tea and after that I could do with a pint and after that grommet if I'm lucky. No sense in working like we have today an' grudging yourself a quid or two, is it?" Then, smiling reminiscently, "Who was it you kidded Chipper about? Princess Whowasit?"}

^{"Charlotte!" said Mr. Sermon, sleepily and was on the point of asking his friend the meaning of 'grommet' when he dozed off in the very middle of a yawn, slumping down on the leather cushions heedless of the clank and roar and rattle of the grossly overloaded vehicle.}

^{The sharp rattle of loose gravel awoke Mr. Sermon from a deeply satisfying doze. He noticed that it was dusk and that the wagon was}