A Twist in the Tale

At last the customs official returned.

“I wonder if you would be kind enough to have a word with my colleague in private?” he asked.

“Is that really necessary?” asked Christopher, reddening.

“I’m afraid so, sir.”

“We shouldn’t have agreed to it in the first place,” whispered Margaret. “We’ve never been in any trouble with the authorities before.”

“Don’t fret, my dear. It will be all over in a few minutes, you’ll see,” said Christopher, not sure that he believed his own words. They followed the young man out through the back and into a small room.

“Good afternoon, sir,” said a white-haired man with several gold rings around the cuff of his sleeve. “I am sorry to have kept you waiting but we have had your carpets looked at by our expert and he feels sure a mistake must have been made.”

Christopher wanted to protest but he couldn’t get a word out.

“A mistake?” managed Margaret.

“Yes, madam. The bills you presented don’t make any sense to him.”

“Don’t make any sense?”

“No, madam,” said the senior customs officer. “I repeat, we feel certain a mistake has been made.”

“What kind of mistake?” asked Christopher, at last finding his voice.

“Well, you have come forward and declared two carpets, one at a price of ten thousand pounds and one at a price of five hundred pounds, according to these receipts.”

“Yes?”

“Every year hundreds of people return to England with Turkish carpets, so we have some experience in these matters. Our adviser feels certain that the bills have been incorrectly made out.”

“I don’t begin to understand…” said Christopher.

“Well,” explained the senior officer, “the large carpet, we are assured, has been spun with a crude distaff and has only two hundred ghiordes, or knots, per square inch. Despite its size we estimate it to be valued around five thousand pounds. The small carpet, on the other hand, we estimate to have nine hundred knots per square inch and is a fine example of a silk hand-woven traditional Hereke and undoubtedly would have been a bargain at five thousand pounds. As both carpets come from the same shop, we assume it must be a clerical error.”

The Robertses remained speechless.

“It doesn’t make any difference to the duty you will have to pay, but we felt sure you would want to know, for insurance purposes.”

Still the Robertses said nothing.

“As you’re allowed five hundred pounds before paying any duty, the excise will still be two thousand pounds.”

Christopher quickly handed over the Kendall-Humes’ wad of notes. The senior officer counted them while his junior carefully rewrapped the two carpets.

“Thank you,” said Christopher, as they handed back the parcels and a receipt for the two thousand pounds.

The Robertses quickly bundled the large package onto its trolley before wheeling it through the concourse and onto the pavement outside where the Kendall-Humes impatiently awaited them.

“You were a long time in there,” said Kendall-Hume. “Any problems?”

“No, they were just assessing the value of the carpets.”

“Any extra charge?” Kendall-Hume asked apprehensively.

“No, your two thousand pounds covered everything,” said Christopher, passing over the receipt.

“Then we got away with it, old fellow. Well done. One hell of a bargain to add to my collection.” Kendall-Hume turned to bundle the large package into the boot of his Mercedes before locking it and taking his place behind the steering wheel. “Well done,” he repeated through the open window, as the car drove off. “I won’t forget the school appeal.”