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Continued...

Cornish Antiques

We looked round, it was the Major, a retired old boy with a giant walrus moustache who lived in a delightful if somewhat derelict cottage almost opposite the pub.

'What was that Major?' asked Geoffrey holding a glass up to the 'Famous Grouse' whisky optic.

'Two young ladies jumping up and down outside in the road doing some sort of Bavarian dance…you know, thigh slapping and all that.' He took an appreciative slurp of whisky. 'Thought they were on fire for a minute or two.'

'Thought there were something funny 'bout they two,' said Janner, relighting his blast furnace.' 'Tis them 'ats they got on…stops the blood getting' to the brain.'

'I expect your right,' I said, not wishing to drop him in the proverbial. I watched Geoffrey placing the two glasses of Coke behind the bar ready for the next two confused customers that requested Coke.

The Major finished his drink, placed the glass on the bar which was swiftly placed underneath the optic again by Godfrey and unfurled his Telegraph which was carried underneath his arm pit like a swagger stick, crossword half done and carried as a badge of office from pub to pub throughout the day. 'Certainly a fine day,' he stated in the clipped tones of a Parade Ground. 'Expect beaches full of sun worshipers.'

'Well they're not in here Major' said Geoffrey, pulling himself half a pint of bitter.

'Most of the locals seem to be down at that new antique dealer's shop in Chapel Street,' said the Major, 'Rum sort of chappie, looks like he's buying up half of Penzance.'

'What's 'e buyin?' asked Janner, ears starting to twitch.

'Surprised your not down there,' said Geoffrey, 'you got so much rubbish knockin' 'bout your place you probably fill 'is shop in one go.'

'Don't know 'bout that, my Elsie's a right magpie she is, if ever I'd know'd one.'

'When was the last time you looked in your loft?' I asked him.

'Damn funny thing lofts,' said the Major, 'found a couple of valuable prints in mine a couple of years ago, forgotten all about 'em.'

The mention of lofts seemed to galvanise Janner. Pound notes flashed before his eyes. He gulped his beer down in one messy gulp. 'See you later my birds,' he spluttered, jumping off his stool and showering us all with froth. 'Just remembered a bit o' business.'

We all looked at each other. 'There goes Cornwall's answer to Richard Branson' said Geoffrey, wiping the bar.

'Extraordinary,' said the Major, 'I was just about to buy the fellow a drink.'

No he wasn't I thought, he never buys anyone a drink. 'Well we all know where he's gone,' I said, looking out of the window, just in time to see two cyclists peddling furiously down the road. 'I'd love to be a fly on the wall in that antique shop.' I finished my beer. 'Better be off before Laura gets suspicious.'

Lunch was on he table. I didn't recount the morning's antics to Laura; she would get to know soon enough. Sure enough, after an hours snooze, I trundled back into the kitchen and had just sat down to drink a cup of tea when Laura walked in with a bag of shopping.

'Just seen a funny thing,' she said, filling the fridge with butter and eggs. 'That fool Janner, carrying a huge parcel wrapped in newspaper into that new antique dealer in Market Jew Street.'

'Well,' I said, 'I hear he's buying up the whole of Penzance.'
'Won't be room for anything else if he buys whatever Janner's got.'
With something approaching eager anticipation I wandered down to the Trevelyan just after six to find Geoffrey talking to two holiday makers.
'Evening Kit' he said,' Heard about our boy Janner?'
'Go on, I'm all ears.'

'Well these two gentlemen been telling me about a bloke what walked into that new Antique dealer with a big parcel.'

'That's right,' said one of the visitors, 'We were just mooching around in this shop when this scruffy sort of chap lugs a huge parcel, wrapped in newspaper and bits of string into the shop and plonks it down on the floor.'
'We thought it was a sculpture or something' said the other.

I paid for the beer that Geoffrey had pulled, took a sip and conjured up a vision of Janner striding through the town with a priceless heirloom.
'You listen to this,' said Geoffrey, his eyes twinkling with glee
'Well the Antique dealer asks him what he's got there, and your friend says he's not sure but it's been in his loft all his life and his fathers before him, and it's very old and must be worth a lot of money. So the dealer undoes the string and takes the newspaper off.'

"What do you think of that?" your friend says.
"Not a lot", says the dealer.
"Why not?" says your friend?
"Because it's a bloody galvanised cold water tank!"

 

 

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