The Collected Short Stories - Jeffrey Archer [102]
“Pounds.”
The dealer removed a slim calculator from his jacket pocket, tapped some numbers into it, then looked unhappily toward the Kendall-Humes.
Christopher and Margaret remained silent, like schoolchildren fearing that the headmaster might ask them a question to which they could not possibly know the answer.
“Come on, come on, how much were you hoping to sting me for?”
“I think you must prepare yourself for a shock, sir,” said the dealer.
“How much?” repeated Kendall-Hume, impatiently.
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“Pounds?”
“Pounds.”
“You must be joking,” said Kendall-Hume, walking around the carpet and ending up standing next to Margaret. “You’re about to find out why I’m considered the scourge of the East Midlands car trade,” he whispered to her. “I wouldn’t pay more than fifteen thousand for that carpet.” He turned back to face the dealer. “Even if my life depended on it.”
“Then I fear your time has been wasted, sir,” the Turk replied. “For this is a carpet intended only for the cognoscenti. Perhaps madam might reconsider the red-and-blue?”
“Certainly not,” said Kendall-Hume. “The color’s all faded. Can’t you see? You obviously left it in the window too long, and the sun has got at it. No, you’ll have to reconsider your price if you want the orange-and-yellow one to end up in the home of a connoisseur.”
The dealer sighed as his fingers tapped the calculator again.
While the transaction continued, Melody looked on vacantly, occasionally gazing out of the window toward the bay.
“I could not drop a penny below twenty-three thousand pounds.”
“I’d be willing to go as high as eighteen thousand,” said Kendall-Hume, “but not a penny more.”
The Robertses watched the dealer tap the numbers into the calculator.
“That would not even cover the cost of what I paid for it myself,” he said sadly, staring down at the little glowing figures.
“You’re pushing me, but don’t push me too far. Nineteen thousand,” said Mr. Kendall-Hume. “That’s my final offer.”
“Twenty thousand pounds is the lowest figure I could consider,” replied the dealer. “A giveaway price, on my mother’s grave.”
Kendall-Hume took out his wallet and placed it on the table by the side of the dealer.
“Nineteen thousand pounds and you’ve got yourself a deal,” he said.
“But how will I feed my children?” asked the dealer, his arms raised above his head.
“The same way I feed mine,” said Kendall-Hume, laughing. “By making a fair profit.”
The dealer paused as if reconsidering, then said, “I can’t do it, sir. I’m sorry. We must show you some other carpets.” The assistants came forward on cue.
“No, that’s the one I want,” said Mrs. Kendall-Hume. “Don’t quarrel over a thousand pounds, pet.”
“Take my word for it, madam,” the dealer said, turning toward Mrs. Kendall-Hume. “My family would starve if we only did business with customers like your husband.”
“Okay, you get the twenty thousand, but on one condition.”
“Condition?”
“My receipt must show that the bill was for ten thousand pounds. Otherwise I’ll only end up paying the difference in customs duty.”
The dealer bowed low, as if to indicate he did not find the request an unusual one.
Mr. Kendall-Hume opened his wallet and withdrew ten thousand pounds in travelers’ checks and ten thousand pounds in cash.
“As you can see,” he said, grinning, “I came prepared.” He removed another five thousand pounds and, waving it at the dealer, added, “and I would have been willing to pay far more.”
The dealer shrugged. “You drive a hard bargain, sir. But you will not hear me complain now that the deal has been struck.”
The vast carpet was folded, wrapped, and a receipt for ten thousand pounds made out while the travelers’ checks and cash were handed over.
The Robertses had not uttered a word for twenty minutes. When they saw the cash change hands it crossed Margaret’s mind that it was more money than the two of them earned in a year.
“Time to get back to the yacht,” said Kendall-Hume. “Do join us for lunch if you choose a carpet in time.”
“Thank you,” said the Robertses in unison. They waited until the Kendall-Humes