“Four hundred pounds is my final offer,” said Christopher, trying to sound in control.
“Five hundred pounds would have to be my bottom price,” said the dealer.
“I’ll take it!” cried Christopher.
An assistant began waving his arms and talking to the dealer noisily in his native tongue. The owner raised a hand to dismiss the young man’s protests, while the Robertses looked on anxiously.
“My son,” explained the dealer, “is not happy with the arrangement, but I am delighted that the little carpet will reside in the home of a couple who will so obviously appreciate its true worth.”
“Thank you,” said Christopher quietly.
“Will you also require a bill of a different price?”
“No, thank you,” said Christopher, handing over ten fifty-pound notes and then waiting until the carpet was wrapped and he was presented with the correct receipt.
As he watched the Robertses leave his shop clinging onto their purchase, the dealer smiled contentedly.
When they arrived at the quayside, the Kendall-Humes’ boat was already halfway across the bay heading toward the quiet beach. The Robertses sighed their combined relief and returned to the bazaar for lunch.
* * *
It was while they were waiting for their baggage to appear on the carousel at Heathrow Airport that Christopher felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned round to face a beaming Ray Kendall-Hume.
“I wonder if you could do me a favor, old boy?”
“I will if I can,” said Christopher, who still had not fully recovered from their last encounter.
“It’s simple enough,” said Kendall-Hume. “The old girl and I have brought back far too many presents and I wondered if you could take one of them through customs. Otherwise we’re likely to be held up all night.”
Melody, standing behind an already laden trolley, smiled at them both benignly.
“You would still have to pay any duty that was due on it,” said Christopher firmly.
“I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise,” said Kendall-Hume, struggling with a massive package before pushing it onto the Robertses’ trolley. Christopher wanted to protest as Kendall-Hume peeled off two thousand pounds.
“What do we do if they claim your carpet is worth a lot more than ten thousand pounds?” asked Margaret anxiously, standing by her husband’s side.
“Pay the difference and I’ll refund you immediately. But I assure you it’s most unlikely to arise.”
“I hope you’re right,” said Margaret.
“Of course I’m right,” said Kendall-Hume. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this sort of thing before. And I won’t forget your help when it comes to the next school appeal,” he added, leaving them with the huge parcel.
Once Christopher and Margaret had located their own bags, t
hey collected the second trolley and took their place in the red “Something to Declare” queue.
“Are you in possession of any items over five hundred pounds in value?” asked the young customs official politely.
“Yes,” said Christopher. “We purchased two carpets when we were on holiday in Turkey.” He handed over the two bills.
The customs official studied the receipts carefully, then asked if he might be allowed to see the carpets for himself.
“Certainly,” said Christopher, and began the task of undoing the large package while Margaret worked on the smaller one.
“I shall need to have these looked at by an expert,” said the official once the parcels were unwrapped. “It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.” The carpets were duly taken away.
The “few minutes” turned out to be over fifteen and Christopher and Margaret were soon regretting their decision to assist the Kendall-Humes, whatever the needs of the school appeal. They began to fidget and indulge in irrelevant small talk that wouldn’t have fooled the most amateur of sleuths.