The Lost Jewels - Kirsty Manning Page 0,46

buy Gertie a new notebook of her own.

Freddie would be able to offer a home to a sweetheart. He’d been walking out twice with young Rosie Jones from the greengrocer, but Essie couldn’t help noticing the furrow of Mr Jones’s brow when she’d gone to the store with the twins to buy salt and flour last week, his eyes running over their thin dresses as he handed over their purchases. His pursed lips said it all.

‘I promise you, Essie,’ Freddie was saying now, ‘Stony Jack’ll take care of us.’

Essie very much doubted that was true. No-one who was even supposed to care for her family had managed to. Not Ma or Pa, not Mr Morton at the school, nor Father McGuire and his parish. Freddie was doing his very best, she thought with a sigh. But her older brother was an optimist, a dreamer. Unfortunately dreaming didn’t fill empty bellies at night. It was up to her. But she looked at her brother’s wide eyes and hopeful expression and thought of how the future might look. Then she pushed open the door and entered the pawnshop.

Sitting at a large oak desk was a stocky man with neatly combed white hair and a thick grey moustache. He wore a smart blue wool suit, stiff collar and a black silk tie, much like Essie made every week in the Rubens’ factory. This was Mr Lawrence, she presumed.

His desk was messy, overlaid with scraps of paper and lit with a brass lamp. Random objects dotted the surface: terracotta vases, a carved wooden hand, cigar boxes and some mottled iron arrowheads. His walls were covered with mirrors and tapestries. Bookshelves were lined with leather-bound volumes leaning against marble busts, stone axes and yet more terracotta vessels.

He looked up from his paperwork and studied Essie and her companions through round wire-framed glasses as they all piled into the shop. ‘Come in, come in.’ He put down his pen as they entered and crowded around the desk. ‘Be a good girl and lean on the door to close it, won’t you?’ he said to Gertie. ‘Otherwise that blasted bell will jangle all afternoon.’ He smiled an apology.

Gertie closed the door and wandered across to the bookshelf, running her fingers down gold-embossed spines as if to imprint each title in her brain. Flora gazed open-mouthed at a small marble statue of a topless woman, while Maggie giggled at the fig leaf a man wore on the shelf right at the level of her nose.

‘Good morning, gentlemen.’ Mr Lawrence beamed at Freddie and Danny then nodded at Essie in the corner. ‘Miss.’ The antiquarian gave them a bemused look. ‘So, to what do I owe the pleasure?’

Danny stepped forwards and put a parcel on the table as tenderly as if it were a newborn, then Freddie unwrapped it and held up a ball of clay under Mr Lawrence’s lamp, revealing glittering gold necklaces, some coloured stones and some buttons stuck in the clump.

Mr Lawrence peered at it. ‘What do we have here then?’

‘I think we found something special, sir,’ said Danny.

‘Is that so?’ replied Mr Lawrence.

‘Some of the lads said you might have a bit of coin—’ Freddie began.

‘Or a pint,’ interrupted Danny.

Essie shot him a furious look. She’d come along to ensure her impressionable brother wasn’t persuaded by Danny to spend some of the money on a few rounds of pints at the pub with the lads. She wanted at least enough money for a few weeks of school and to give Ma’s raw hands a break from the spinning. Freddie had agreed, but who could blame him for wanting to spend time with lads his own age having a laugh, or taking Rosie Jones to the moving pictures and perhaps a bit of afternoon tea?

‘What do you think?’ asked Freddie anxiously.

The antiquarian pushed his glasses up his nose and sat up straighter. Without saying a word, he picked up the ball and turned it over, revealing traces of gleaming gold and blue stones.

When he spoke, his tone was measured, but warm. ‘I’m not sure,’ he murmured. ‘Where did you say this came from?’ He peered at the young men over the tops of his glasses.

The pair shifted uncomfortably and Danny’s ears started to redden.

‘Which worksite were you on?’ he probed.

Danny and Freddie looked at each other, and Freddie shook his head in warning.

Mr Lawrence’s eyes narrowed, and in that instant Essie saw he understood.

‘No matter, we can discuss that later. In the meantime, I’ll need to