Chapter 14 Alex #2
On another day, Alex would have gone inside and ordered a pint to pay tribute to the nostalgia.
Today, though, he stopped in his tracks as he saw the curiosity shop in question.
Hugger it would have been unremarkable had someone not attached the fangs and antlers of a muntjac deer to it.
Alex wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the backroom was even more chaotic than the shop.
Rough palette boxes were haphazardly stacked on top of one another, almost reaching the ceiling.
He cleared his throat, his attention firmly focused on the corner.
“Is that a real skeleton?” he asked, blinking at the rusted shackles binding its hands together.
Black wire bound the bones together to allow it to stand upright.
The shopkeeper’s head popped up from the palette box she’d been searching through. “It is,” she whispered. “We were told he was a pirate. Are you interested in him?”
“Erm,” Alex drew out the sound, his voice higher than usual. “I think I’ll give him a miss at the moment.”
She poked in his direction with a conspiratorial smile. “You let me know if you change your mind. I’ll give you a good deal.”
“I’ll consider it.” He nodded, knowing he’d be seeing the skeleton in his nightmares. “Would you like me to help search for the animal collection?”
“No need.” She patted the box in front of her before unknotting its beribboned tag. “It’s this one, 1109. You may bring it to the counter.”
He nodded, slightly amused as he watched her toodle back to the front of the shop.
She was a tad unusual, but Alex couldn’t help but like her—despite the skeleton.
He peered into the wooden storage box she’d indicated, fervently hoping there wasn’t anything too unsettling inside.
A mishmash of items sat within; the taxidermied parrots he’d been hoping for, each set within its own small curio cabinet, in addition to mounted butterflies in frames.
Several skulls milled about, and Alex immediately recognised one as being from a deer, having occasionally come across them in the grounds of the estate.
An enormous egg rested against one of the skulls, ten times the size of a typical chicken egg.
A patterned snakeskin was rolled up, half hidden under the largest shell he’d ever seen; it had to be almost two feet lon—
“I haven’t got all day, ducky,” the shopkeeper yelled from afar.
Duly chided, Alex hoisted the box up onto his shoulder, trying to avoid any potential splinters. There was no way it could fit through the narrow aisles; it would be far easier to hoist it above them.
Even then, however, he was careful to pick out his route through the shop, not wanting to destroy such masterpieces as the fanged squirrel.
The shopkeeper tapped the counter without looking up at him. “Put it here.” Fountain pen in hand, she scribbled into the disorganised journal from earlier. “I’ve come up with a price—it’ll be seventy-five pounds.”
Alex blanched, setting the box down with a grunt. “That much?!”
She rolled her eyes, gesturing at him. “Look at your suit, you can afford it. If you wanted it cheaper, you should have come in looking like a beggar.”
Letting out a long huff, he pulled out his chequebook from his inside breast pocket in the full knowledge he was being taken for a ride. “Very well,” he sighed, knowing he would have paid any price for Savi.
“Would you like a chest to take them home in?” She moved over to a sizeable old merchant’s chest in the corner, giving him that conspiratorial smile from earlier. “It has wheels—and a fascinating history involving your pirate friend.”
His brows drew together as he looked inside the empty chest. The pirate?
But then he saw them.
Scratch marks on the inside of the lid, as though something—or someone—was desperately trying to claw their way out of their confinement.
Icy cold crept its way down his spine as he stared at them, and somehow, they stared back.
Wrenching his gaze away, he slapped his cheque onto the counter. “Do you know, I think I’ll be all right carrying it.”
“Very well,” she huffed, closing that godforsaken chest. She wiggled her finger at him. “Then I shall see you next time.”
“Absolutely.” With a nod, he hoisted the box back onto his shoulder, respectfully inclining his head in farewell before scurrying out of Hugger & Mugger as fast as his legs would carry him.
The first inhale of fresh air was a relief, ridding his lungs of the musty odour in the shop. Alex did his utmost not to think of the pirate or his scratch marks as he walked back up Motcomb Street, occasionally readjusting his hold on the rough wooden storage box as it bit into his shoulder.
He was lost in thought as he approached Raj’s townhouse, but a small figure crouching on the pavement made him stop in his tracks. “George,” he blurted out, realising he was standing on top of a carefully plotted line of squares that was instantly recognisable as a hopscotch court.
Chalk in hand, George leapt to his feet, recognition lighting up his eyes. “Is Savi here?”
“She’s not,” Alex said apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
His smile faltered. “Oh.”
Feeling like an arse for unintentionally getting the boy’s hopes up, Alex tried to offer him an olive branch. “But I am down here trying to organise a surprise for her.”
“Is it for her birthday?” George asked excitedly, wiping his chalky hands on his dark trousers.
“Maybe?” He hadn’t really planned on when and where to give her collection to her. In truth, his focus had been on how to get it, but it was her birthday next week. Returning her possessions would make an excellent secondary gift.
“Is it in that box? Can I see it?” George stood on his tiptoes, as though gaining an extra inch was going to make a difference.
Alex lowered the box onto the top of the house’s iron railing, searching for the most child-friendly object within.
The skulls were a definite no, as was the snakeskin.
Where was that butterfly in the frame? But then his hand landed on the shell—that was perfectly child-friendly.
“Be careful,” he told George. The shell’s opalescent peach tones were even prettier in the daylight. “It’s heavy.”
George took it with both hands, looking thoroughly disappointed. “It’s the same as the one that used to be in Savi’s bedroom.”
“You’ve seen her collection before?”
He gave a childishly enthusiastic nod. “The skulls are my favourite. Oh! No, the scorpion in amber is easily the best.”
Worries abated, Alex lowered the box to the pavement, watching as George fearlessly dived in, pushing the skulls aside like it was an everyday occurrence.
His feet left the pavement, kicking in the air.
“Here.” The word was victorious. He held out a small golden chunk that Alex had missed earlier. “It’s the scorpion.”