The Collected Short Stories - Jeffrey Archer [256]
Deirdre came to a decision. She turned to face her husband, who was toying with a pipe stand, and declared in a clarion voice that all could hear, “As everything is at half price, Arnold, presumably I can go ahead and buy the ‘Delphi’?”
The other four swung around to see how the great entrepreneur would react. Arnold seemed to hesitate for a moment before he placed the pipe stand back on the shelf and said, “Of course, my dear. Isn’t that why we came all this way in the first place?”
The three women immediately began selecting items from the shelves, finally gathering between them one dinner service, two tea sets, one coffee set, three vases, five ashtrays, two pitchers, and a toast rack. Arnold abandoned the pipe stand.
When the bill for Deirdre’s purchases was presented to her husband, he hesitated once again, but he was painfully aware that all five of his shipmates were glaring at him. He reluctantly cashed his remaining travelers’ checks, unwilling to bring himself even to glance at the disadvantageous exchange rate that was displayed in the window. Deirdre made no comment. Malcolm and the major silently signed away their own travelers’ checks, with little appearance of triumph showing on either of their faces.
The goods having been paid for, the six tourists emerged from the workshop, laden down with shopping bags. As they began to retrace their steps back down the winding track, the door of the pottery was closed behind them.
“We’ll have to get a move on if we’re not going to miss the last bus,” shouted Arnold as he stepped into the center of the path, avoiding a large cream Mercedes that was parked outside the workshop. “But what a worthwhile excursion,” he added as they trundled off down the track. “You have to admit, I saved you all a fortune.”
Deirdre was the last to leave the shop. She paused to rearrange her numerous bags, and was surprised to see a number of the pottery’s staff forming a line at a table by the side of the shop. A handsome young man in a grubby T-shirt and torn jeans was presenting each of them in turn with a small brown envelope.
Deirdre couldn’t take her eyes off the young man. Where had she seen him before? He looked up, and for a moment she stared into those deep blue eyes. And then she remembered. The young man shrugged his shoulders and smiled. Deirdre returned the smile, picked up her bags, and set off down the path after her companions.
As they clambered onto the bus, Deirdre was just in time to hear Arnold declare: “You know, Major, I should never have taken my father’s advice and settled for the life of a banker. You see, I’m one of nature’s born entre …”
Deirdre smiled again as she looked out of the window and watched the good-looking young man speed past them in his large cream Mercedes.
He smiled and waved to her as the last bus began its slow journey back to Mykonos.
NOT THE REAL THING
Gerald Haskins and Walter Ramsbottom had been eating corn flakes for over a year.
“I’ll swap you my MC and DSO for your VC,” said Walter, on the way to school one morning.
“Never,” said Gerald. “In any case, it takes ten boxtops to get a VC, and you only need two for an MC or a DSO.”
Gerald went on collecting boxtops until he had every medal displayed on the back of the box.
Walter never got the VC.
Angela Bradbury thought they were both silly.
“They’re only replicas,” she continually reminded them, “not the real thing. And I am only interested in the real thing,” she told them haughtily.
Neither Gerald nor Walter cared for Angela’s opinion at the time, both boys still being more interested in medals than the views of the opposite sex.
Kellogg’s offer of free medals ended on January 1, 1950, just at the time when Gerald had managed to complete the set.
Walter gave up eating corn flakes.
Children of the fifties were then given the opportunity to discover the world of Meccano. Meccano demanded eating even more corn flakes, and within