Stolen History - The Shop
London, 2022
Morning came, and Cai had barely managed a few hours of sleep. The first thing she had done when she got to her room was text Nadia, her best friend, confidant, and frequent co-conspirator. The call back came immediately. They stayed awake chatting until the wee hours as Cai read her the letter, told her about the reading of the will, and the apparent new life he had in front of her. Nadia was excited.
“I’ll be there first thing in the morning and go with you to this secret love den of yours!”
“Love den? What are you talking about? It’s some old apartment that my long-dead great-grandfather used as a thieves' den.”
“Whatever, it’s yours now,” she giggled. “And again, I am so sorry I could not be there for the funeral. I could not get out of this lecture series.”
“Oh, I know. It was fine. And it was nice to see Wally and Mar again.”
“How is that cute little brother of yours, anyway?” Her voice was teasing.
“Stop it, Nad! You know he is off limits.”
“Oh, you’re no fun. See you in the morning. I’m hopping on the first Ryanair flight out of Tangier. Touchdown Gatwick about eight.”
“I’ll send George to pick you up. Don’t worry about getting a ride or a cab at that time of the morning.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Nadia protested.
“Stop. You’ll be tired, and George will bring you coffee.”
“You’re too good to me.”
“I know. See you in the morning. Love you!”
“Love you, too!”
Nadia’s arrival produced lots of squealing and screaming, and tears as the two women embraced. Reuniting after not seeing each other for a few months brought them back to their undergraduate days at Northwestern, and they were suddenly eighteen again.
Nadia El Mansuri was Moroccan by birth, raised in London, and was one of the smartest people Cai had ever known. Fluent in at least five languages and proficient in several others, she had a talent for cultures that Cai had rarely seen in anyone else. They had met as freshmen and had been inseparable ever since.
“Ok, bitch,” Nadia laughed. “How’s it feel to be a millionaire overnight?” She peeled off her jacket and scarf, hanging them on the coat rack by the door. Her dark brown curls were bundled up on her head, held precariously in place, as usual, with a pencil.
Cai rolled her eyes. “Stop it. I’m struggling as it is.”
Nadia hugged her again. “I know, babe. I’m teasing. I know you’ll make good use of it all. But what about this secret benefactor? What is that about?”
“I have absolutely no idea. Supposedly, Angy will fill me in today when we go visit the flat.”
“Right! The not-at-all-suspicious secret thieves' lair of your great-grandfather, the master thief. Did I get that right?” They both laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of saying it out loud.
Cai shrugged helplessly. “That sounds about right. What the hell, right?!” She checked her watch. “Algy should be here in about thirty minutes. Let’s put your stuff in my room.” Cai led her friend to the stairs and up their winding curve to the second-story landing, and then down a long hallway. Nadia knew the route well. Several summer weekends spent together in London during breaks and the occasional escape from the rigors of academia, had made The Lane a second home for them both.
The guest room that Cai occupied was hers, for all intents and purposes, and boasted a broad, mahogany king-sized bed with matching desk, armoire, and chairs. Nadia dropped her bag on the floor near the window and turned to look at her friend.
“You doing okay? I’m sure this is all a whirlwind of crazy, but I also know how much you loved your grandmother.”
Cai smiled. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sad, for sure. And really sad I didn’t really get to say goodbye. That part really sucks.”
Nadia wrapped her arms around her. “She loved you. And you loved her. And you both knew it. That’s what matters.” She paused, then laughed. “Oh, and she left you five mil, so there’s that.”
Cai smacked her arm playfully. “Stop! It just sounds insane!”
There was a knock at the door. Algernon Haversleigh was there. Nadia rushed to him and hugged him. “Hi Algy!”
“Hello, Miss Nadia,” he said, trying to remain respectable. “So nice to see you again. Miss Cai, shall we go?”
“No sense in waiting, right? Let's go into the thieves’ den!”
Haversleigh drove them towards Blackfriars along a familiar route. They passed the Queen Mary Rose Gardens and the Sherlock Holmes Museum, the BT Tower, and the British Museum. Cai quietly raised a middle finger as they drove by the storied building with its Ionic columns and "Progress of Civilisation” pediment. Nadia giggled and patted her knee. “Behave, girl.”
The Blackfriars neighborhood was named after the legendary twelfth-century monastery that once stood there, and it was the site of numerous important historical events. Three bridges crossed the Thames from the neighborhood, and the Blackfriar pub was a very popular tourist destination for its mosaics and marble interior.
They pulled up to a several-story brick structure, home to a number of storefronts on the ground floor. Haverleigh led them to a nondescript shop with frosted windows and the words “W. Cooper - Antiques | Est. 1887” on the window. He fished a set of keys from his pocket and opened the door. The hinges creaked, and the smell of dust and time wafted from the darkened shop.
They entered, letting Heversleigh lead the way. It was dark, dust motes hanging in the air like startled birds, and the breeze from the open door scattering them in the dim light through the glass. Display cases were covered by a thin layer of dust, wooden shelves filled with silhouettes of items indistinguishable in the dark.
“Give me a moment,” said Haversleigh, making his way towards the back of the shop. “The lights are here somewhere… if they are working still.”
There was a metallic squeak, and then a soft hiss, and the room was slowly lit by sconces strategically placed around the shop. The small flames flickered, their light amplified and cast out by clever arrangements of silver and glass. The women could now make out the entire shop. Cai looked around, wide-eyed, and Nadia gave a soft sigh.
Every item in the shop looked like a museum piece. From the rows of watches in the front display case to the taxidermied birds perched atop the shelving, everything had been placed just so. Cai walked the shelves slowly, marvelling at each carefully curated thing. A globe of the Earth from what appeared to be the seventeenth century, hand-painted and mounted on a brass bracket. Outdated borders and country names, but intricately detailed landscapes. A Roman-era lamp, its provenance handwritten on a faded card. A full collection of Alfred Lord Tennyson first editions, right next to a stand-alone copy in a clear dust jacket of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, the card in front reading “First Ed. - for display only”.
Heversleigh cleared his throat. “If you ladies will follow me?” His voice shook them from their moment of awe at the collection. The barrister was behind the counter, holding back a black curtain that led into the back. “I’ll show you to your flat.”
“Algy,” said Cai. “Is this shop part of the deal?”
He nodded. “Yes, my dear. And all of its contents.”
Her eyes widened. Nadia stepped up next to her and whispered, “Dibs on the lady’s Rolex I just peeped.” Cai elbowed her.
“Wait, does that mean I have to run an antiques shop?” The idea terrified her. That meant regular work hours. And worse, customers.
The elderly man laughed. “No, dear. I don’t think your great-grandfather opened this shop more than a dozen times in his life, and even then, he had someone else running it. Truth be told, I am pretty sure it was a ruse for some sort of questionable transactions disguised as legitimate commerce. Now, if you’ll come this way.”
He led them through the curtain to the back room of the shop, which was far less organized but no less impressive. The sconces were lit here as well, with glass protecting the surrounding spaces from the flame. Stacks of old leather ledgers next to wooden crates of what appeared to be liquor bottles, various furniture pieces, and paintings wrapped in brown paper. Behind it all was a wrought iron, spiral staircase that went up into the ceiling.
Following him up, the women emerged into yet another dark and dusty room, but this one had high ceilings and was much larger than the shop below. Haversleigh fiddled with something on the wall, and the sound came again of a soft hiss as dozens of sconces flickered to life, gradually illuminating the spacious room. The barrister stepped aside as Cai and Nadia stood, gaping at what lay before them.
