“Because Mrs. Trentham will be among the bidders.”
“How can you be so sure?” asked the chairman.
“Because our ladies’ maid is still walking out with her second footman.”
The rest of the board laughed, but all the chairman volunteered was, “Not again. First the flats, now this. When will it end?”
“Not until she’s dead and buried, I suspect,” said Charlie.
“Perhaps not even then,” added Becky.
“If you’re referring to the son,” said the colonel, “I doubt if he can cause too much trouble from twelve thousand miles away. But as for the mother, hell hath no fury—” he said testily.
“Commonly misquoted,” said Charlie.
“What’s that?” asked the chairman.
“Congreve, Colonel. The lines run, ‘Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.’” The colonel’s mouth remained open but he was speechless. “However,” Charlie continued, “more to the point, I need to know what is the limit the board will allow me to bid for Number 1.”
“I consider five thousand may well prove necessary given the circumstances,” said Becky.
“But no more,” said Hadlow, studying the balance sheet in front of him.
“Perhaps one bid over?” suggested Becky.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” said Hadlow. “What does ‘one bid over’ mean?”
“Bids never go to the exact figure you anticipate, Mr. Hadlow. Most people who attend an auction usually have a set figure in their minds which inevitably ends in round numbers, so if you go one above that figure you often end up securing the lot.”
Even Charlie nodded, as Hadlow said in admiration, “Then I agree to one bid over.”
“May I also suggest,” said the colonel, “that Mrs. Trumper should carry out the bidding, because with her experience—”
“That’s kind of you, colonel, but I shall nevertheless need the help of my husband,” said Becky with a smile. “And, in fact, the whole board’s, come to that. You see, I have already formulated a plan.” She proceeded to brief her colleagues on what she had in mind.
“What fun,” said the colonel when she had finished. “But will I also be allowed to attend the proceedings?”
“Oh, yes,” said Becky. “All of you must be present, and, with the exception of Charlie and myself, you ought to be seated silently in the row directly behind Mrs. Trentham a few minutes before the auction is due to commence.”
“Bloody woman,” said the colonel, before adding hastily, “I do apologize.”
“True. But, more important, we must never forget that she is also an amateur,” Becky added.
“What’s the significance of that statement?” asked Hadlow.
“Sometimes amateurs get carried away by the occasion, and when that happens the professionals have no chance because the amateur often ends up going one bid too far. We must remember that it may well be the first auction Mrs. Trentham has ever placed a bid at, even attended, and as she wants the premises every bit as much as we do, and has the advantage of superior resources, we will have to secure the lot by sheer cunning.” No one seemed to disagree with this assessment.
Once the board meeting was over Becky took Charlie through her plan for the forthcoming auction in greater detail, and even made him attend Sotheby’s one morning with orders to bid for three pieces of Dutch silver. He carried out his wife’s instructions but ended up with a Georgian mustard pot he had never intended to buy in the first place.
“No better way of learning,” Becky assured him. “Just be thankful that it wasn’t a Rembrandt you were bidding for.”
She continued to explain to Charlie the subtleties of auctions over dinner that night in far greater detail than she had with the board. Charlie learned that there were different signs you could give the auctioneer, so that rivals remained unaware that you were still bidding, while at the same time you could discover who was bidding against you.
“But isn’t Mrs. Trentham bound to spot you?” said Charlie after he had cut his wife a slice of bread. “After all, you’ll be the only two left bidding by that stage.”
“Not if you’ve already put her off balance before I enter the fray,” said Becky.
“But the board agreed that you—”