‘Nick’s right, it can be a lot of fun,’ he went on. ‘But it’s a long day, out in the open and if the weather’s bad, and you’re not selling, it can be bloody grim. The other thing that he hasn’t mentioned is that we’ll need to set out about four in the morning.’

‘Why?’ I demanded crossly.

‘We need to get there early. We have to park the van immediately behind our pitch to unload. Later I’ll have to move it to the car park, but it takes quite a while to set the tables up and be ready in time.’

‘So, you go, Juno? Yes?’ Nick asked.

I glowered at him. He had a bloody cheek, expecting me to sacrifice a day’s work, and inconvenience my Friday clients, just to earn him a few rotten quid on his junk. On the other hand, it could be an adventure and the thought of spending the day with Paul had its attractions. ‘I’ll think about it,’ I muttered. ‘I’ve got to go now,’ I added as Nick opened his mouth, and made my escape before he could press me any further.

By evening I’d worked out that if, the following week, I did Maisie’s shopping on Thursday afternoon, instead of Friday morning, I really only had one problem left. I trotted down the stairs and knocked politely on my landlord’s door. Adam answered.

‘Good evening,’ I said sweetly.

‘Can I help you?’ he asked, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

‘Depends. How would you feel about taking a few dogs for a walk?’

The most difficult part was deciding what to take. Nick had let me choose what I liked from the boxes of junk in the shop. I knew that room in Paul’s van would be limited and it had taken me days to decide. In the end I’d packed up a half a dozen boxes of assorted china and glass, most of it imperfect, and a few bits of brass.

I brought it all back to the flat to clean it. The brass needed polishing, newspaper wrappings had left black smudges on the porcelain and the glass was dusty. I made a list of all the items in my chosen stock, and copied it out as a record for Nick.