Chapter Eleven
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
The following Saturday, Felicity had a date with Oliver. He had rung on Friday to make final arrangements.
‘But why so early in the morning?’ said Felicity. ‘It’ll be dark!’
‘The tides. Wrap up warm. And you’ll need gumboots; I’ll bring some when I call for you.’
Oliver’s enthusiasm was infectious, and he’d talked so much about the joys and excitement of mudlarking she was keen to try it. But persuading her mother it was acceptable for her to leave the house before dawn was another issue.
Felicity smiled .‘Ring me back in an hour. I’ll have to make sure my mother is happy about it.’
‘She knows I’m taking you mudlarking; we told her on Wednesday.’
Oliver had taken Felicity and her mother out to tea and it had been very well received by Lucinda. Felicity didn’t tell her that Oliver would have to wash up at the hotel where they’d eaten for several hours to pay for it.
‘But not that I was meeting you at five in the morning!’
‘I’m sure she won’t mind. I keep telling you, I’m very good at mothers.’
So it proved. On Saturday morning, Felicity had crept down the stairs in the darkness and waited by the front door until she finally heard Oliver’s soft knock.
‘Hello!’ He kissed her cheek. ‘I’ve borrowed some gumboots for you.’ He helped her change into them. They fitted well and gave Felicity confidence for whatever lay ahead. However good Oliver was at mothers, Lucinda would not have been impressed if she’d ruined her calf-length leather boots. Oliver took her hand, leading her down the road. ‘Come on! Follow me.’
The light from the lamp posts illuminated the two of them until they reached a narrow alley, which Felicity wouldn’t have noticed if Oliver hadn’t been with her. Oliver put on his torch and they followed the tiny light between the houses until they reached a gate in front of a flight of steps. Beyond it the river gleamed, full of the promise of adventure.
Felicity was glad of her borrowed gumboots as she followed Oliver, resisting the temptation to hang on to his coat as they went down the steps.
It was like being on a stony beach in the dark. Felicity could see nothing that wasn’t illuminated by Oliver’s torch.
‘Why do we have to come in the dark?’ asked Felicity, for some reason feeling obliged to whisper. It all felt so secret – clandestine even.
‘I thought I said before? We need to be here just before low tide,’ said Oliver at normal volume, ‘so we get every second of foreshore before the tide turns. It’s a lot easier in summer, of course.’
Felicity was about to suggest they wait until winter was over before trying mudlarking for the first time when she realised that she would probably be back in Provence next summer, once her secretarial course was over. The thought caused a pang of sadness.
Oliver had his torch and was searching the ground. Felicity could only see rocks and stones but his eyes were sharper. ‘Here!’ he called out. ‘Come and look at this!’
After an embarrassingly long time, she saw what he was looking at. It was a tiny coin.
‘It’s easier to identify what we find when it’s light,’ said Oliver, easing the coin out of the mud with the pointed trowel he produced from his bag. ‘We’ll just pick up anything that looks interesting now and research it later.’
‘Can anyone just come along and pick things up?’ asked Felicity.
Oliver nodded. ‘Yup. People have been mudlarking for centuries, selling what’s valuable, making what they can. Of course, everyone always hopes they’ll find something really valuable. Most of us find pipes, coins and buttons. Also, old pins.’
‘You’ve never found a bracelet or anything?’
Oliver laughed. ‘Not yet, but hope springs eternal.’
Gradually, as it got lighter, Felicity found she was as fascinated as Oliver. The riverbed seemed as if it was about to give up some treasure at every step. She was thrilled when she found a clay pipe, almost complete, with a carved head. The minutes turned to hours and even then she wouldn’t have stopped searching if Oliver hadn’t taken hold of her arm. ‘I think we should be getting back. I want to take you to have breakfast in my favourite greasy spoon.’ He laughed. ‘Not quite what you’re used to, but I promise the eggs and bacon are superb.’
‘My mother would die rather than come to a place like this,’ said Felicity, once she and Oliver were seated at a Formica-topped table just round the corner from Pimlico station. On the table was a large plastic tomato containing ketchup. There was one a similar size, only yellow, with mustard. Salt and pepper was served in plastic shakers. There was a holder containing paper napkins.
‘I know. That’s why I felt obliged to bring you here. Also, the proprietors are tolerant of muddy gumboots. What would you like to eat? I recommend the full breakfast. With tea and toast.’
‘I’ll take your advice then.’ As before when she was with Oliver, Felicity worried in case he wasn’t able to afford to pay for things. She had offered to pay but, so far, he had been almost offended by the suggestion.
The tea came quickly, served in thick white cups, full of liquid that was almost orange. Felicity sipped it. It was very strong, but she thought she might get used to it.
‘Alexandra would love it here,’ she said wistfully. ‘She loves the restaurants in France where the working people go. She says they offer very good value.’ She laughed and then stopped herself. She realised she was about to point out the irony of her stepmother being an heiress but still wanting a bargain, but then thought it would be tactless. ‘So, tell me more. What is the most valuable thing you’ve ever found while mudlarking?’
‘Like Alexandra, I like good value,’ said Oliver, ‘but for me it’s more about how interesting the finds are. I love finding an old coin that may be from Roman times even though it’s not valuable today. I can’t wait to get what we’ve found home to investigate them.’
‘How do you find out about them?’
‘I have a mate who’s extremely knowledgeable. He mudlarks too, when he has time – he’s a jeweller, but also works in a museum. Once, I took him something that he said was Roman and should be in his museum. I could have sold it to a dealer, but I gave it to him. He’d helped me so often it only seemed right. It was a lamp.’ He laughed. ‘I rubbed and rubbed but there wasn’t a genie in it.’
‘What wish would you have asked from the genie if he had appeared?’
‘Apart from meeting a beautiful girl like you? I’d wish to become a jeweller like my friend. I think I told you. But as my father won’t hear of it, it’s a bit of an impossible dream at the moment.’ There was a moment’s poignant silence, then Oliver smiled. ‘Ah! Here’s the food.’
Felicity surveyed her breakfast. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much food on one plate.’ Several rashers of bacon, two sausages, two fried eggs, tomato, mushrooms, baked beans, fried bread and black pudding filled the dish. ‘I’ll never eat it all.’
‘Never mind. I’ll order more toast and we can make up sandwiches for later.’
This made Felicity giggle. ‘It’s all right, Mummy, no lunch for me. I’ve got this lovely sandwich from the Regency Café.’
‘I’m happy to take any leftovers you may have, Felicity.’
‘I’m going to eat as much as I can now. Mummy doesn’t approve of too much breakfast. Or too much lunch, either.’
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Felicity had something on her mind: So far, in a friendship she felt was going well, Oliver hadn’t kissed her. Usually, boys seemed to think they were owed at least a long kissing session if they met a girl more than once, and would have helped themselves to anything else they could get, but Oliver was different. To begin with she had been grateful not to feel pushed into doing something she didn’t feel ready for, but by now she was beginning to think he didn’t want to kiss her. She looked up and caught him looking at her. Then she knew: he definitely wanted to kiss her!
He made a sandwich with the leftover toast and bacon, wrapping it in a paper napkin; then he paid for the breakfast and they left the café.
‘It’s a lovely morning,’ he said as they walked through the streets.
‘It is. Now it’s light we can see it.’
He laughed. ‘Such a shame the foreshore is now covered in water and we couldn’t find much of interest.’
‘We did find some interesting things though, didn’t we?’
‘We did. And one of those was this.’
It took Felicity a moment or two before she recognised what Oliver was handing to her. It was a bent silver coin.
She took it to see it better. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s an old love token. We find them quite often but they are always special. It’s a symbol of the love a man feels for his lady.’ His laugh was rueful. ‘I’m afraid the fact that you’ve accepted the token means you’ve accepted my love, too.’
Felicity looked up into Oliver’s eyes. There was humour, diffidence, but most of all she saw love. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him down so she could kiss him. He kissed her back with enthusiasm. Felicity’s head swam, glad of his arms around her to keep her upright. It was only after several moments she remembered they were in the street in broad daylight and pulled away.
‘So, I take it you feel the same way?’ he asked.
She nodded, not wanting to put her feelings into words.
He sighed ecstatically. ‘I’m so glad. I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the moment we met but I was determined to be patient, not to mess things up.’
‘I thought you didn’t want to kiss me,’ Felicity said softly.
‘Of course I did! But I thought maybe, being French, you might have different standards and I didn’t dare take advantage of you.’
‘French boys can be quite forward,’ Felicity said. ‘Too forward. You timed it perfectly.’ She gave him a frank look. ‘And how lucky that you should find a love token the first time you took me mudlarking.’
He laughed. ‘You’ve caught me! I put one in my pocket before we set out. Besides, if we had found it just now, it would have been all muddy and horrible.’
‘Is it very old?’
‘Probably from the reign of William III, so towards the end of the sixteen hundreds. You’ll see his head is nearly rubbed off. He was an unpopular king and while it was an offence to deface coins, people did it. If you look closely, you’ll see a true lovers’ knot scratched on it.’
Felicity examined the coin more carefully. ‘It is really old. That is a very romantic gesture, Oliver.’
‘One made from my heart,’ he said with a little mock bow.