The Grace in Older Women Read Free Page A

the Koryo dynasty-which began over a
century before our Battle of Hastings. It would have bought me a house,
freehold, taxes paid. It went for a song, but not to me. Tragically, the four
blokes I'd been trying to con -er, encourage - into buying it for me didn't
turn up. The Japanese of the 1590s had sense: they invaded Korea and kidnapped
the Korean potter families wholesale, kilns and all.
    Drifting, I saw a few half-decent pieces that could be restored,
mostly Victorian or Edwardian, but I'd not the money to bid. There was a lovely
amber pendant, biggest I'd ever seen, carved in the form of a crucifixion
scene, but it didn't feel right so I didn't stop to look because it would only
have told me that Scandal was out of gaol and had resumed doing his stuff in
Walberswick. He's our best amber carver, but can only afford amberoid - amber
chips heatwelded together to simulate the real thing.
    But this colander stopped me cold.
    Some things don't need inspecting. They just glow like a star at
dusk. I wobbled, crashed into a chai»- that almost gave. Adelaide caught me
with a faint shriek.
    ‘You all right, Lovejoy?'
    A tweedy bystander, stiff country-gent collar, asked Addie what
was going on. I heard her explaining, 'It's all right. He goes like this near a
genuine antique . . .'
    Feet thumped as people gathered, asking which was it, was it that
painting over there that looked like Holman Hunt ... I broke out in a sweat,
same as malaria I'd had once when getting shot in indescribable foreign
foliage.
    ‘I'm all right,' I told Addie, and ta, mate, to Tweeds.
    'Lovejoy's like this. Never forgeries. Only genuine –'
    'Shut up, silly cow.' I would have clocked her one but I was still
shivery from the colander.
    'Can he really, well, tell ?"
a lady asked, fascinated. I could only see her shoes. They could have bought
me, my immobile Ruby motor, and my prospects. Rare species had died to shoe her
feet. She'd probably wear them twice.
    'Every single time,' Addie announced proudly to the assembling
multitude, her voice gaining decibels with every syllable. My secret gift was
no secret any more. 'He's famous. We swear by him.’ In auctions she bids like a
rock'n'roll drummer. The essence of tact.
    'Then why's he look destitute?' a manly voice intoned.
    'Oh, well.' Addie was stuck, wanting to retreat. 'Lovejoy's, ah,
affairs cost.'
    To my relief a gravelly voice cut short Adelaide's broadcast.
    'Lovejoy's shagnasty. Never the price of a pint.' Tinker, my
barker, shuffled waveringly into view and hauled me upright. 'Come on, mate.
Where is it?'
    'There.' No point in trying to conceal the colander. Its price
would now be astronomical, all the world and his wife poised to bid.
    He all but dragged me to the table. I stared, for politeness. It
didn't look much, but neither does the Mona Lisa.
    Stoneware, a sandy brown, a simple pottery colander. That's all it
was, the thing you strain vegetables with. Shaped, though, like a small basket,
with plain holes all the way up its straight sides. The handle had two grooves.
Nothing else to be said, except that it was the rarest piece of kitchenware. I'd
seen one in my Grandma's when a little lad. Genuine, pure, lovely. I couldn't
help smiling. Each little hole - all perfectly matched - had a small line
grooved from it to the next horizontally, not vertically. The times I'd run a
slate pencil along Gran's, hole to hole, making a grey-blue decoration.
    Wasn't worth more than a week's wages, though, despite its rarity
and pristine condition. Except to someone like me, who loved it.
    'Genuine, Lovejoy?' from Addie, queen of the bloody obvious.
    'Beautiful. Lanes., eighteenth century.' My voice wobbled.
    'Imagine!' Addie shrieked, clapping, just in case somebody in the
Midlands hadn't heard her first pronouncement.
    Trice?' That man, peremptory.
    'What it'll bring,' I said curtly and turned away.
    'I asked you a civil question,' the man thundered.
    Notice that people who aren't civil always say that,