Antiques road shop

Now then – this is exciting! Do you know what this is? No? Well, I’m not going to tell you its name because it will give the whole thing away. Do you know what you do with it? You’ve got an idea? Alright – show me what you do with it. Carefully! Well done – wonderful! Did someone show you how to put it on your head like that? Yes, tell us, tell us, they will lower the microphone for you. There. Speak.

My uncle showed me how it works. He used to put it over my head and tell me I was seeing the sea.

Your uncle is the one who owned it, yes? Before you?

That’s right, my florid uncle.

Hmm, and he had nice white shirts? Is that right? You were telling us earlier that it was your florid uncle with nice white shirts.  

Oh yes, he had such lovely white shirts. You know, we only saw him once every couple of years, when they hosted boxing day at their big house. My florid uncle was my favourite person in the whole world on those days. He would fly me around the room. Nobody else even spoke to me, but he would spend all his time making me laugh and playing games. He would then give me a tray and let me serve everyone their sherry. And then later, when I was being ignored again, he would appear with some new contraption, something like this, and let me help him do the demonstration of it. Everyone in the family would watch us. He had all sorts of things. He would put on a pair of old flying goggles and announce to us all that it was time for a Christmas contraption, and then he would vanish and come back a few moments later, carrying something wonderful. Once it was a talking ceramic priest he got in Shanghai. And once it was a tin lake that you could hold in the palm of your hand. It started off as a small circle of tin, and then gradually you could see the surface, and soon movement deep inside -

A tin lake! Goodness me.

That’s right. And then one year, he brought this thing out. This thing here. I loved it very much, and when he died, he left it to me.

Wow, he sounds like quite a character, this lovely man in his shirts! Alright wow. So, I bet your florid uncle didn’t know about this though. Almost nobody has this knack, but I learnt it from my wife. Here, look.  

[The antiques road show professional reaches out and rests his palm on the ceramic outer layer of the item. He holds it there for a moment. With his other hand, he puts a finger over the mouth of the audience member.]

Don’t say anything until a vision appears. Is a vision appearing to you?

Yes.

Yes! Wonderful - Ok good, now tell me where you are.

I’m at the side of a road. It’s a hot day. I can see shops, a little cluster of shops. There is a bin near me, and a wasp. The wasp is very loud.

Ignore the wasp. Focus on the shops.

The restaurant across the road has a blue sign with faded sun-brown lettering. Julies, it says. No apostrophe.

Is this a real place?

I don’t know. I’ve never seen it before.

Can you see anything else?

I can see people going by, but they are a long way off. Inside the newsagent, I can see the shape of a man, he has a big belly, he is arranging something on some shelves. At the end of the row of shops, next to Julies, there is a boy. The boy talking to a dog. The dog isn’t listening. The boy is saying tomorrow we can go into the laboratory.

Wow, this is really interesting. What do you want to do?

I sort of want to ask the boy which laboratory he means.

I see. And is that what you will actually do, do you think?

No. That boy doesn’t look like he would tell me. I also want to go to Julies. I have a feeling they will sell me a coffee. And I can sit at a table made of white oak.

What’s white oak? I’ve never heard of white oak.

White oak! It’s like a strong classic table wood, I think. I think I have heard of it. White oak instead of dark oak.

Well, I have never heard of this white oak, but I’m prepared to believe you. [To the camera, the antiques professional makes a face that tells us that although this might all seem ridiculous, we should treat this moment with respect and dignity]  So, tell us, what will you do? Will you go and talk to the boy about the laboratory?

I think I’m going to go to Julies and ask about a coffee. If they let me have one, I’ll sit with it and have a little relax. I’ll probably end up thinking while I sit there. I will probably sit there and wonder about the boy and the laboratory.

Ok, that sounds like a lovely thing to do. You should do lovely calm things. We’re all really keen to hear how it goes.

I’m going to cross the road now.

Be careful! If you die in there, we don’t know what happens to your body out here!

It’s ok. I feel completely safe and able to cross the road. Everything is really lovely. The sky is blue. I feel a soft breeze on my neck as I cross the road. There’s no traffic. Only a motor scooter, buzzing towards me but a long way off. I reach the entrance to Julies. The handle is made of mottled brass.

There’s no such thing as mottled brass, but carry on, carry on.

The mottled brass handle feels incredibly cold in my hand. As soon as I touch the handle, I feel very young. I feel many of the aches in my arms and my neck and my shoulders wash away. Oh, I feel very untroubled holding this brass handle. There is another breeze and I briefly smell the fragrance of patchouli.  

Will you go inside? There’s no rush at all. We are all listening to you and your experience with the door handle.

I pull the door open. As I go inside, I look left. The last thing I see of the street is the boy and the dog. They are still standing next to the pile of woodchip.

The pile of woodchip? Was there woodchip before?

Yes, I didn’t say, but there is a pile of woodchip next to the outer wall of Julies - the boy has a few small lumps of bark in his hands. When I saw him, he was throwing bits of woodchip for the dog. The dog was catching it, then chewing it and then spitting it out in bits, and then licking its own nose.

Alright, that’s not what you said earlier about the dog, but thank you. So, you have opened the door to Julies. Are you inside?

I’m inside. They’re putting olives at all the tables.

They?

The Julies. Instantly I realise the two women serving at the tables are called Julie. One of them is also the chef. The other is in charge of the front of house. These are the Julies. I ask one of them if they know the boy outside. They say they know him quite well. He’s always trying to gain access to the laboratory, they say. The laboratory is located behind the restaurant. The laboratory shares a back yard with the restaurant. That boy is constantly trying to access the laboratory and investigate it, they say. He has never managed it, but they like him. He doesn’t cause much trouble. Sometimes he will accept a sandwich – he likes jambon beurre.

Jambon beurre. Do you know the boy’s name?

No, but the owner of the laboratory is Daniel E. S. Wardd.

OK, I don’t recognise the name. Carry on, carry on. We are all here, and don’t worry if you feel yourself sitting down, out here we have placed your body on a Victorian mattress that someone kindly brought along. Don’t worry, the Victorian mattress is only worth about sixty or seventy pounds at auction, and even then, you’d have to find the right buyer. But your body is lying very pleasantly upon the Victorian mattress. You’re quite safe, please continue. Please enjoy your time at Julies and tell us more about what is happening. We are all quite transfixed.

I’m sitting at a lovely table. There is a small vase with four stalks of lavender. It smells like summer, and I can smell the crisp white tablecloth, which smells like a summer breeze, and the salt on the olives, and the oregano in the oil. I feel faint with it all. The restaurant is full of people now, everyone eating, and I can hear the sound of people tearing bread. I hear a peal of laughter from a couple, they must be in their late sixties, and they laugh together, in harmony with each other. One of them, the dark haired one, is trying to take the glass of her companion because her companion is laughing so hard, the drink is likely to spill. There are men in blue shirts with the buttons of bright white. There are men in suits with purple shirts, everyone looks so comfortable. There is no fashion here, but everything is just right on the body of the person wearing it, and everyone is enjoying their food. I can see light everywhere, I can see ruby light and rose light and golden light through every wine glass. My table is very close the tables of the people around me I can feel the movement of the air when they gesture and when they laugh and talk. The air has perfume and food and garlic and herbs and the warm air seems to move around us, moving inside our bodies and out again like a pack of silk dogs. Organisms float between us benignly, not engaging, falling through all of our skin like neutrinos through sunlight. One of the Julies brings me a phone, an old fashioned phone, on a silver tray. The sound of the restaurant stops. I pick up the receiver.

How does the phone feel? Do you know, is it Bakelite? Is it possible it could have been one of the Marconi original sets that were made exclusively for the hotel where Fellini stayed during the filming of his famous dream sequences? Of course, you don’t know. Forgive me, professional curiosity. Please continue, we are all rapt.

I say, ‘Hello’ and I hear the boy’s voice talking to me.

The boy with the dog?

Yes, he is talking to me. He has a wonderfully excited voice. He is telling me-

About the laboratory?

No, he says the laboratory is only a side project, what he really wanted to say was that he has been thinking about what to get for his sister for her birthday. He tells me that it was her birthday weeks ago, and time is running out for him to give her a present before the gesture becomes completely hollow. He feels that he still has some time left. He has told her the lie about a delivery that was supposed to arrive but never showed up, and she has accepted this with good grace. However, he needs to get her something good now – he has promised something special, and he can’t think what to get her. He says he comes down here to stand next to the pile of woodchip and feed bark to his dog because it helps him think. And he saw me going into the restaurant, and he saw how the touch of the handle of Julies restaurant relieved me of pain. He is saying, ‘I could see instantly how the stiffness, the soreness in your neck melted away.’ He is telling me that he can see how the years of the car door, or the fridge door, or the front door, or the broken bed, or the broken slats has wounded me over the years. He says, ‘I can see how the near-zero valuation on your time and effort and work and sweat and tears has crunched and ground your spine to a rocky, godforsaken trap bridge up your shape.’ And, he says, he saw it go. Just from touching the brass, he says, he saw the voice of upper and lower management melt away. He says he saw the years of cowering from the cold touch of the rotting plastic shower curtain, roll away. He says he saw the stoop from being menaced by men next door roll away. He is saying that it was in fact his dog who noticed, that several trapped nerves were released in that instant when I touched the door handle to Julies. He says the dog says that the tension was released audibly, like a sombre whistle of happy, unvalved pressure. And he wants to know if I will ask the Julies if they would be willing to sell him the mottled brass door handle. He is asking, will I be the one to negotiate on his behalf.

I can’t believe this! Are you really telling me, we aren’t going to find out about the laboratory?

It looks that way. He says his mother is trapped in the laboratory, and he has been trying for years to get her released, but nobody believes him. And everyone just says he needs to stop making up stories, and they have seen his mother out and about, as always, buying daffodils in the town market, and waving at people who drive the same car as her.

This is not what I was expecting to hear. Surely you have to help him save his mama!

No, he says the main thing is to get a good price for this brass door handle. He wants to know if I have any tips.

What? What tips would you have! You don’t have any knowledge of antiques?

I am calling the Julies over.

No don’t!

I am going to tell them the exact amount of money we have.

Please no, I beg you, do not do that!

I am saying…

Stop stop you imbecile for the love of god!

…Take it or leave it.

Oh – I really think your approach was unwise! If you had listened to me, a professional antiques dealer, we could have even got them to gift you that brass handle! After all, it’s only mottled brass – and such a thing doesn’t even technically exist! You’ve taken a huge risk with this boy’s money. What are they saying now?

The Julies are deliberating. They’ve gone off into a huddle. One of them is coming back. She is taking the phone away. I am – I feel – I feel dizzy, I want to stand up.

Don’t stand up yet. I’m so sorry, we need to adjust your body out here. Just wait a few moments while we scoop you out of the Victorian mattress. If you want the truth, the owner of the Victorian mattress is demanding we return it. They are unhappy that all that’s happened is that someone is getting a valuation on an antique door handle, and that’s not what they came here for!

I feel terribly light! I am not human! I am what am I?

A few seconds longer if you can. And there – Are you able to stand?

I am standing! I am on the street. A different street. The restaurant is gone. The boy is gone.  I can hear a bike going past – the hoiling sound of someone cycling. The road is different. I feel tired, as though I have been walking. The air is so fresh. I am receiving a text message. It says…

…unfortunately, your one has got a chip in it, and I’m afraid that does affect the value. If I were you, I would get this insured for about a hundred pounds. Good day.