Chapter 50 #2
‘Of course.’ He raised an eyebrow which gave Gemma the impression that he didn’t entirely believe her.
‘You’re doing it to get in touch with the past,’ she explained, despite having made this point earlier. ‘It doesn’t matter if what you find isn’t unusual or rare, it’s the first time that anyone has seen it or touched it since the river claimed it. That’s intoxicating. It’s addictive.’
‘But now that you have found something rare, what happens next?’
‘Museums are given the opportunity to purchase the object. If none of them want it, it’ll be returned to the finder.
If they do – because they don’t already have one like it in their collection or because it’s very old and rare – there’s an official inquiry to deem the piece Treasure, with a capital T.
It’s then valued by the British Museum and the amount is shared fifty-fifty between the landowner and the finder.
In this case, the landowner is the Port of London Authority and the Crown Estate. ’
‘Can we safely assume that the brooch you found will be bought?’
‘I believe the British Museum is interested in it,’ Gemma acknowledged, but she didn’t wish to dwell on the idea. Just imagine, an object she had found being on display at the British Museum …
‘Incredible!’ the presenter exclaimed. ‘What would you do with the proceeds?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘I mean, there mightn’t be any, of course.’
‘Of course, but if there was?’
While Gregory Holterman couldn’t seem to stop visualising the amount of the valuation, the other presenter, Heather Milligan, stepped in.
‘There seems to have been a recent surge in popularity for mudlarking as a hobby. Why do you think this is?’
‘I can’t say for sure,’ Gemma said. ‘Mudlarking has been around since the eighteenth century, but as a need for money, not as a hobby. I think now more and more people are learning how much history the Thames holds and how accessible it is – providing you have a permit, of course.’
The presenter nodded with interest. ‘And finally, Gemma, how does it feel to know you’ve discovered something invaluable to the history of the country?’
Gemma thought for a moment, trying to remember what she’d practised with Nick. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing.
‘Naturally, I’m over the moon to have uncovered what is believed to be a never-before-seen piece of Royal Tudor jewellery and to have contributed, in a small way, to the archaeological finds of the city.’
She paused and looked out at the production crew and cameras. It felt like a hundred headtorches were shining on her. She imagined her fellow mudlarkers huddled together on the bed in Nick’s hotel room where they were watching the show.
‘Except, I wasn’t the only one who found it,’ she continued.
‘I couldn’t have done it without my friends in The Mudlarkers’ Club.
Nick, Phyllida, Timothy and Laila. Who knows, if we hadn’t been at that particular location on that particular day, and if I hadn’t been looking in that particular spot, the brooch may have remained in the Thames for another five hundred years. ’
Afterwards, The Mudlarkers’ Club went out for a champagne breakfast at a restaurant along Salford Quays. On their way there, Gemma took a moment to ask Laila if she’d done anything about her mother’s letter.
‘Yeah,’ Laila replied. ‘It took me a while but eventually I replied. I said I’d consider seeing her when she gets out. I didn’t want to commit in case I change my mind.’
‘That’s great. I think you need to give her a chance, but you can take it at your own pace,’ Gemma said.
Laila nodded. ‘Do you think I’d be allowed some champagne?’ she asked sheepishly.
Gemma laughed. ‘Fine by me, but you should really be checking with Timothy.’
Gemma was pleased that Timothy enthusiastically agreed, given, as he said, “the enormity of the celebration”.
She imagined that the bubbles went straight to Laila’s head as they did hers.
Gemma had already consumed half the glass when Phyllida stood up to give a toast. Phyllida tapped her champagne flute with one of her chunky silver rings, and called on everyone’s attention.
‘Gemma, you’ve done us proud today,’ Phyllida said. ‘I know how much you dislike being in the spotlight. But you rose to the occasion and showed the world – or at least the BBC’s morning viewers, however many there are – how wonderful mudlarking can be.’
‘Six point five million,’ Nick said.
‘Pardon?’ Phyllida looked at him.
‘Average number of viewers of BBC Breakfast.’
‘Oh, my God,’ Gemma said. ‘You didn’t tell me that before I went on.’
‘I couldn’t have you freaking out any more than you already were.’
‘Oi,’ she said, giving his arm a gentle slap. ‘I couldn’t help it. I felt a fraud even asking for time off work.’
‘I think you were marvellous,’ Timothy said. ‘Just marvellous.’ He started clapping.
‘I’m not finished yet,’ Phyllida said.
‘That was a warm-up.’ Timothy quickly sat on his hands.
‘What I wanted to say,’ Phyllida went on.
‘Is that I’ll never forget when Gemma and I first met that day on the foreshore when I broke my phone and we started talking.
Do you remember, Gemma? You said, it’s nice to find things instead of losing them.
I loved that. And now, look at what you’ve found—’
‘We found it, remember?’ Gemma scolded light-heartedly.
‘Either way. Here’s to you.’ Phyllida raised her glass.
‘And here’s to the club,’ Gemma said.
As Gemma raised her glass with the others, she felt a gentle squeeze of her left hand under the table. It was so gentle she could easily have imagined it. Very quickly, she got another one. She glanced to her left. Nick smiled.
A feeling came over her that she realised she’d felt before in Nick’s presence but had always tried to suppress and pretend was due to other factors.
Like too much coffee or too little food in a twenty-four period.
Or the possibility she was going through perimenopause a decade early.
Now, though, she didn’t want to quash or ignore any feelings; she wanted to embrace them.
For a few seconds, it felt as if it was only the two of them at the table.
If only it could have been! Why couldn’t everyone else, just for a moment, miraculously disappear?
All she wanted to do was kiss Nick. Oh, how she wanted to kiss him.
Then she wanted to hug him and thank him for being him – caring, considerate, enthusiastic and fun.
He was like the coin in the Christmas pudding you think you’ll never find and, when you do, you can’t believe that you have.
Yet all she could do was return the squeeze and smile back.
It wasn’t until she was back home that she knew the time was right to reply to Adam. Appearing on live national television had given her the courage to make the call.
‘Gemma?’ Adam answered.
‘Adam,’ Gemma said with authority.
‘Hi,’ he replied with less authority wondering, she imagined, why she was calling him instead of texting or emailing.
She wasn’t going to muck around. ‘I want to talk about the house.’
‘Finally,’ he said.
She put on her sweetest voice and with a smile said, ‘I know it needs to be sold and I understand your situation, but my situation is this. As you chose to cheat and to leave me, the house sale will be on my terms.’
‘But …?’
‘I’m extremely busy right now,’ she said, hoping her emphasis on ‘extremely’ sounded sincere and not overly dramatic. ‘I’ve just been on national television, did I say?’
‘No. What for?’ he said with disbelief.
‘Mudlarking.’
‘Mudlarking?’ The disdain was palpable.
‘Supportive as always,’ she muttered. ‘Anyway, my publicist tells me I have more interview requests.’
‘Publicist?’
‘So, I’m going to be tied up for a while. The house stuff will have to wait. Oh, and you can watch my appearance on this morning’s BBC Breakfast show on iPlayer—’
‘Wha—?’
‘Goodbye, Adam.’
She hung up and fist-pumped the air as Nick liked to do. That’ll show Adam to mock her hobby. That’ll show him how well she was doing without him.
In the days that followed, the story got picked up by news media around the world and more interview requests did indeed follow.
Nick automatically became her public relations manager because his contact details were on the media release and all queries went to him.
But thankfully, as Nick had predicted, the flurry of interest didn’t last long.
Other news gazumped hers and her momentary spark of celebrity was soon over.
After that, Gemma didn’t know what to do with herself. She’d found an artefact so valuable it was invaluable and been on national television. She still felt astounded by the whole thing – incredulous, even – but also, just quietly, a teensy bit pleased with herself.
She’d also come to the realisation that only seeing Nick sporadically, as they had been, seemed agonisingly too little.
She’d developed an ache in her heart, and it was being tugged in a way it hadn’t for a very long time.
And this, she found, was something else she didn’t know what to do with.
Did he really feel the same about her or was she imagining it?
November Discoveries:
What a month! I’m still gobsmacked at my discovery because not a lot can trump the finding of a sixteenth-century brooch linked to Anne Boleyn and Henry the Eighth, can it? Well, not unless you count being reminded of how wonderful it is when a man you like squeezes your hand.