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Gavin didn’t enjoy his job and already knew he wouldn’t stick it for long. He’d only taken it because it was cash-in-hand and Chels had told him he might find the odd bit of jewellery or cash that he could pocket for himself.
Now in his second week, he had pilfered a total of £2.30p in loose change. In his view, Speedy House Clearances, his employers, really had it sussed. They did an initial survey, then a first visit. By the time Gavin and Sid turned up to do the final clearance all that was left was cobwebs, mouse droppings and worthless old tat.
Speaking of which: the radio blaring next to him had just offered its On The Hour Newsbytes and revealed that a Treasure Hunter with a metal detector had just unearthed a fortune in Saxon Gold. Envy rose within Gavin as he shook his hands free of the disintegrating, stained old dress. “Lucky ******” he pronounced to himself.
He was drawn back to the job in hand as the end of the heavy old trunk that he was dragging across the attic broke away, spilling its contents. He heard the clink of metal on the bare floorboards – was it some cash at last?
Gavin moved quickly, before Sid came back from the van. He scrabbled through the contents of the trunk, most of which were on the floor. The disgusting old dress and some other women’s clothes, darkly stained and sticking together. An old inkwell, half full of congealed reddish ink. A bundle of letters. Something that looked like part of a cutlery set – no, just the one knife, and that was broken…
Then, just as he heard Sid on the stairs, he saw them. Not coins but rings! Two gold rings. Gavin slipped them into his pocket and by the time Sid came in he was stuffing the other items back into the remains of the trunk. “Chuck us the tape, Sid, and give me a hand getting this into the van…”
Gavin had thought about his treasure for the whole of the two hours it took them to dispose of everything at the local tip. Apparently, the house had been in the family of a high-ranking police officer for many years, so his prize might be a valuable one.
No such luck. Later that night, Chels and her Mum looked at the rings properly. “Brass. Worthless, just like you” Said her Mum.
That was when Gavin was sure he’d never find anything of real value to anyone.
Autolycus.
Now in his second week, he had pilfered a total of £2.30p in loose change. In his view, Speedy House Clearances, his employers, really had it sussed. They did an initial survey, then a first visit. By the time Gavin and Sid turned up to do the final clearance all that was left was cobwebs, mouse droppings and worthless old tat.
Speaking of which: the radio blaring next to him had just offered its On The Hour Newsbytes and revealed that a Treasure Hunter with a metal detector had just unearthed a fortune in Saxon Gold. Envy rose within Gavin as he shook his hands free of the disintegrating, stained old dress. “Lucky ******” he pronounced to himself.
He was drawn back to the job in hand as the end of the heavy old trunk that he was dragging across the attic broke away, spilling its contents. He heard the clink of metal on the bare floorboards – was it some cash at last?
Gavin moved quickly, before Sid came back from the van. He scrabbled through the contents of the trunk, most of which were on the floor. The disgusting old dress and some other women’s clothes, darkly stained and sticking together. An old inkwell, half full of congealed reddish ink. A bundle of letters. Something that looked like part of a cutlery set – no, just the one knife, and that was broken…
Then, just as he heard Sid on the stairs, he saw them. Not coins but rings! Two gold rings. Gavin slipped them into his pocket and by the time Sid came in he was stuffing the other items back into the remains of the trunk. “Chuck us the tape, Sid, and give me a hand getting this into the van…”
Gavin had thought about his treasure for the whole of the two hours it took them to dispose of everything at the local tip. Apparently, the house had been in the family of a high-ranking police officer for many years, so his prize might be a valuable one.
No such luck. Later that night, Chels and her Mum looked at the rings properly. “Brass. Worthless, just like you” Said her Mum.
That was when Gavin was sure he’d never find anything of real value to anyone.
Autolycus.