I had expected that I would be free to roam the store, stroll past the cases, look at the watches, nod my head appreciatively as I go by, but this is not what happens.

As soon as I make my way to the first case, a tall, elegant woman floats over as though she’s a sailing yacht coming into harbour.

“Good day,” she says with a soft British accent. “American?”

“Canadian.”

“Even better.” Her smile is quite impressive, full lips and bright white teeth, and I’m glad that I did not buy the T-shirt. “How may I assist you?”

“Watches,” says Mimi, who tries a smile of her own, just for fun. “The master of his fate and the captain of his soul would like to examine watches.”

“‘Invictus,’” says the woman. “William Ernest Henley.”

I know a little about Henley. When he was about sixteen, he lost a leg to tuberculosis. And then, less than ten years later, he was told that he might lose his other leg. Instead, he got a famous English surgeon to work on the remaining leg, and after multiple surgeries, the leg was saved. He wrote “Invictus” while he was recovering.

“Invictus” was one of my mother’s favourite poems. I had always thought of it as an ongoing quarrel that Henley had had with medical science. She used it as a buffer for misfortune and poverty and the desertion of a husband.

“My name is Sophia. Are you interested in any particular brand?”

“Something expensive,” says Mimi. “My captain is feeling the clutch of circumstance.”

“Bird,” I say. “Just call me Bird.”

“Mr. Bird, how good to meet you and Mrs. Bird.”

“Bull Shield,” says Mimi, the smile all but gone now.

Sophia is tall, with auburn hair and blue-grey eyes. She’s dressed in a fitted black shift with a string of pearls, and looks as though she should be stepping out of a limousine at a film opening in Cannes, rather than showing watches to a couple of senior citizens from Canada.

“Bull Shield,” says Sophia. “Is that Blackfoot?”

Even Mimi is surprised.

“My husband is German,” says Sophia. “He’s crazy mad for Indians. His big dream is to attend a powwow in Alberta. He will be very jealous.”

“What’s your most expensive watch?” asks Mimi.

“Right now,” says Sophia, “we have a Patek Philippe on consignment from a collector for 3.6 million euros.”

A deep silence fills the shop.

“But you are going to wear this watch,” says Sophia. “Yes?”

“Of course,” says Mimi.

“So, I would not recommend the Patek. That is a watch you put in a safe and hold for appreciation.”

As I sit in the chair, I realize that Rolex is the only brand of expensive watch that I know.

Sophia shakes her head. “You do not want a Rolex. Everyone has a Rolex. Do you drive a Chevrolet or a Ford?”