Читать книгу Shanghai - Christopher New - Страница 9

NOW WHAT AM I BID for these curtains?' asked Jones, leaning forward over the table, resting his weight on his spreading finger-tips. 'Beautiful floral pattern, almost unused. Hold 'em up, Ah Koo. Up! Up! That's right. Shall we start at five dollars? Who'll start us off at five dollars?'

Ah Koo, barefooted, stood on the table, holding the curtains up one after another, his arms trembling with the strain. His wrinkled face smiled self-consciously, as if he were both embarrassed and proud of his prominence.

'These curtains graced our departed friend's sitting room and bed-room,' Jones was saying. He paused to glance round the room with an anticipatory leer. 'Eight lovely drapes from Whiteaway and Laidlaw's. And when they were drawn, who knows what sights they saw?'

A loud suggestive laugh from Mason led a snigger round the room. One of the stewards snaked his way between the tables, balancing a tea-tray on his hand. He set it down by the dark man, whose name Denton still didn't know. Denton glanced over his shoulder as he signed the chit. R Johnson.

'Six dollars I hear,' Jones called out. Ah Koo's arms quivered more and more unsteadily as he struggled to hold the curtains up, fold after fold. The smile on his face was growing fixed with the effort.

'Seven,' Johnson said.

'Eight,' called Mason. 'Why not?'

'Why not indeed? Eight I am bid.'

'You've just got some new ones,' Johnson murmured, pausing with his hand on the tea pot.

'And why shouldn't I get some more?' Mason asked provocatively. He glanced at Denton. 'Can't let 'em go too cheap, can we?'

'Any advance on eight?'

Denton hesitated as Johnson looked at him with raised, inquiring brows. Surely he could do without curtains? After all there were shutters. But impulsively, vertiginously, he nodded to Johnson.

'Nine dollars.' Johnson said, scarcely raising his voice.

'Nine fifty.'

'Only one dollar bids, Mr Mason,' Jones licked his lips. 'We're going up by single dollars only.'

'Ten, then,' Mason shrugged carelessly.

Johnson glanced inquiringlyly at Denton again. Denton rubbed his chin, blushing. Everyone was looking at him. He knew Mason was bidding against him on purpose, and he felt challenged. But he couldn't afford to spend much.

'Any advance on ten over there?' Jones asked hopefully.

Denton recalled the gleam in Mason's eyes at the execution that morning, and some small corner of his mind hardened. He nodded to Johnson.

'Eleven.'

'Eleven dollars? Mr Mason? Any advance? No? Sold for eleven dollars.'

Mason laughed loudly, looking round with eyes that sneered and yet at the same time seemed to seek approval. 'Well, that'll help pay old Smithy's bar debts, anyway.' he said.

Johnson leant closer to Denton. 'I knew he wouldn't go higher, once he'd bid nine fifty,' he murmured placidly. 'He was getting careful.'

'Next item, chair covers. Same design as the curtains, excellent condition, look. With antimacassars thrown in.'

Mason didn't bid again, and Johnson got the chair covers for Denton at six dollars. 'He's a funny fellow, old Mason,' Johnson whispered. 'He was just trying it on, to see what you'd do. He does that with everyone, he doesn't really mean any harm.'

'And last but not least,' Jones called out, 'a solid teak desk, which you see in front of me. Three drawers, top one lockable. Our departed colleague penned his billydoos on this desk. And if you're lucky you may find one inside still.'

'Get on with it Jonesy,' a voice called out in weary encouragement.

'You can sign a chit and give it to Jones, he's the mess treasurer anyway,' Johnson was saying to Denton.

'I'm trying to work out what it comes to in English money.'

'About two pounds altogether.' Johnson stirred his tea rhythmically, round and round, the spoon clinking against the same place on the cup each time.

'No offers for this beautiful solid teak desk?' Jones asked plaintively, with a show of incredulity, over the rising sound of inattentive voices. People had begun to leave the room. 'No offers at all?'

Denton gulped. 'Ten dollars,' he called out in a high, unsteady voice.

'Ten dollars?' Jones cupped his ear. 'Did I hear ten dollars?'

Denton nodded.

The desk was his.

'Well you soon got the hang of it, didn't you?' Johnson said encouragingly. He drank his tea down and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. 'Tibby Mason must've put you on your mettle. Did you really want that?'

'I suppose I'll want to write letters and things in my room sometimes,' Denton replied unsteadily. He felt his heart thumping slightly with surprise at his own audacity.