Samuel and Alison sat on a park bench eating sandwiches which were specially made for them by Mo. Egg and cress plus salmon and cottage cheese were not the best pairings, but Mo was their friend, and at least the bread was homemade. Samuel finished his and said to Alison, “Lovely! Please tell Mo that this was the best egg and cress sandwich I’ve had - ”
“All day?” Alison interrupted. She wasn’t in a good mood.
“Yes, all day if you like, but don’t say that to Mo, not after last time. Let me speak to him, going forward, Alison.”
“Going forward? You stuck in a nineties board room now?”
“Urgh, what’s up with you today Al? You’ve been frosty all morning. Actually, since last week. What’s going on? Is it Mo? Or me?”
“No, not you, not Mo, not even me. Just life, that’s all.”
“Life.” Samuel screwed up the sandwich papers and expertly lobbed them into the bin diametrically opposite to the bench.
“Yup, just my life, such as it is. My life, ha!”
“You’ve got everything going for you, Alison, you really have - your job, your friends, your Louise. Is it anything to do with her?”
“No, no, she’s fine. She’s asking the same things as you, Sam, and acting a bit weird too. Are you both conspiring behind my back? ‘Let's sort Al out, she needs a bit of perking up’, that kind of thing?”
“Possibly -”
“For God's sake, leave me alone!” She got up and put the remains of her salmon and cheese sandwich in the bin, then strode purposefully back to the car parked behind the bench. Samuel had the keys, so it was a bit of a useless gesture. When Samuel got to the car, he could see Alison on her phone talking into it animatedly. She immediately hung up when she saw him. They got into the car.
“Everything alright?”
“No. And no, I’m not talking about it.”
“Fair enough. Back to my flat then?”
“Yes, if you like.”
“Ok.”
They drove back to Samuel’s flat in silence. The flat was huge, expensive, tastefully furnished, very clean and OCD-level tidy. They took their shoes off and Alison slumped onto the leather sofa, scattering two scatter cushions in the process. Samuel picked them up and placed them neatly on the armchair. Alison didn’t move while Samuel made the tea and then arranged some biscuits on a pretty plate.
“You know we will get to the bottom of this, don’t you? Louise and I?” said Samuel.
“Yes, probably, but I’d rather you didn’t. But I know you Sam, and I know Louise and -”
“Biblically -”
“Samuel! Right, go on then. I shall tell you, and you can tell Lou because I don’t want to. It would be better for her to hear it from you. I think.”
“Really?” Samuel put the tea and biscuits on the expensive oak coffee table.
“Yes, really,” Alison slumped back into the sofa, resignedly. “Really.”
Two and a half hours later they were back in Samuel’s car and heading for Alison and Louise’s house, at some pace. Samuel was a careful driver, but could magically outrun anyone, keeping to the speed limits. Louise was waiting for them at the door.
When all was explained, Alison looked sheepish. Louise was surprisingly comforting and said that it could happen to anyone. Louise suggested they talk to the bloke and try to sort something out. Alison said that the bloke wouldn’t listen to any kind of reason. The only kind of reason he would listen to was the return of the artefact. Samuel asked Alison again if she knew where it was and if she had retraced her steps. Loads of times, and it’s gone. So we had better find it then, Louise helpfully suggested. They then decided to open a bottle of wine to see if that helped, even though it was only five o’clock.
The artefact was a small EDO-period Japanese boxwood Netsuke of a mother and her child. It was worth nearly ten thousand pounds. It was only three inches tall and had been given to Alison by the bloke. The bloke's name was never revealed. He had handed it to her at the bus station a week ago. The bloke had asked Alison to look after it for a day or two, and he’d be back for it, at the same bus station bay with a thousand pounds for Alison. No questions, cash and a smiley threat for Alison not to tell anyone, or - well, the bloke was a big bloke. An easy grand, then. So she took the Netsuke home in its tatty greased wrapping paper and bunged it in the freezer for safekeeping. Louise didn’t notice it there. On the first day, Alison took it out of the freezer and went to the bus station, but the bloke didn’t turn up. Same the next day and the next day, no bloke. She missed the next day but went the following day, the Netsuke in her handbag. No bloke. No smiley, threatening bloke appeared. Should she go to the police? Because turning up at the bus station every day was beginning to be a pain.
On the sixth day since the bloke had handed the artefact to Alison, it had gone missing from the freezer, but Alison wasn’t 100% sure she had put it there. It wasn’t in her handbag either. It had gone missing.
The bloke turned up at the couple’s house and demanded it back. This time without any thousand pounds and with a much more threatening demeanour. Alison made something up - she said it was in a safety deposit box at the bank. She’d put it there when the bloke didn’t turn up for nearly a week. It would be a couple of days before the bank opened and he’d have to wait. Surprisingly, this worked and the bloke went away. There was no trace of the greased paper in her handbag nor in the freezer, so that might be a good thing.
After the bottle of wine had been finished, at about seven thirty, they started to plan something.
“But we need to find it, that should be our priority,” said Alison, “I mean all these fine ideas about getting a replacement, fobbing the bloke off etc, aren’t going to work, are they?”
“No, probably not, but I have something up here on eBay, a Netsuke, and it does look very similar, as far as I remember it,” said Louise.
“And - how do you know what it looked like?” Alison was surprised, she thought that Louise hadn’t spotted the thing in the freezer.
“Well, maybe I did take a look at it when I was getting out some bread for toast. As this is your flat,” said Louise, “I thought it none of my business. I did take a look at it though, and I looked it up. It’s a Netsuki.”
“I know,” said Alison.
“Anyway, it’s ten grand on eBay. Actually, let’s have a look,” Louise clicked and scrolled. “That’s funny. This eBayer mainly sells parts for cars but and hasn’t put up much info about the Netsuki at all. And, guess what? Yes, he is local.”
There was a loud knock on the door. They all jumped and Alison told everyone to be quiet.
“But all the lights are on,” protested Samuel who still had some wine left and was sipping it slowly.
“I’ll go and look through the peephole then,” said Alison and she went to the door and looked. “It’s him, our bloke! What do we do now?”
“He’s probably seen you now Al. Just open the door and we’ll all be standing there in front of him, ok?” said Samuel, “And look menacing.”
They all gathered around Alison at the door while she opened it. The bloke was smiling. Not a bad-looking fellow, thought Louise, and he had a bottle of wine with him.
“Can I come in for a moment? I’ve brought you some more wine. Don’t worry you lot, I won’t murder you all. Well, not yet. I need my artefact back first. And we probably ought to drink this. Get acquainted, like.”
“Get acquainted?” Samuel took a step towards the door.
“Yeah, sorry, well. Um. My name is Conrad and I want to help you find the damned thing, for your sake but mostly for mine. What do you say? I can pour the wine if you like. It is chilled.”
“Oh for pity's sake, go on then, come in,” said Alison as she stepped aside, Samuel and Louise did likewise and let the bloke in. Conrad.
Conrad explained that he was an art dealer’s assistant. His boss bought and sold posh, exclusive artwork and their clientele was not always keen to be known about. Conrad was at pains to emphasise that nothing illegal was going on, but sometimes it could be a bit close. But all taxes and duties were duly paid. This particular Netsuke was destined for an American heiress and was held in Conrad's safekeeping until the money transfer had been confirmed. This was taking some time, heiresses don’t usually deal with actual cash that often. So Conrad was charged with looking after it. But Conrad really liked the little tableaux of mother and child, and said it reminded him of better times, so he didn’t put it in a safety deposit box but kept it to look at. Netsuke’s were made with all kinds of aesthetic appeal, from the size, shape, and feel, all had to be perfect, and this one was. A lovely artefact indeed. The heiress was really taking her time over the money, so Conrad got used to having the little Netsuke around. Then something came up, something urgent, and Conrad went a bit shy, which was something for such a big fellow, but wouldn’t say what it was. He had to go away for a few days. And urgently. He got the call as he was walking past Alison at the bus station. He’d seen her there before, and she looked so honest and sweet (“Ha!” - Louise), so he entrusted it to her. A thousand pounds would solve that little problem nicely. He was “away” for much longer than he’d thought. When he got back he arrived at the bus station to see Alison walk off, so he followed her and banged on the door. The excuse for the safety deposit box seemed perfectly genuine. And now he had waited too long. The money from the heiress was all in the bank and the boss wanted his Netsuke back. Herein lies the problem.
“More wine?” Conrad asked Samuel.
“Yes, more wine, thank you, Conrad.”
“All we can think,” said Louise, “was that it was nicked by someone. And we have an eBay listing here that suggests just that.”
“Yes, I’ve seen that,” said Conrad, “it’s not our Netsuki. Just a weird coincidence, that’s all.”
“Are you sure? It’s only just been listed. It’s local and the eBay fellow mainly sells parts for cars.”
“I am sure, yes. I’d know that mother and child anywhere.”
“Our Netsuke?” Samuel sipped his wine. Conrad opened his arms and looked at the three of them, “Our Netsuke,” he said.
“Right, here’s an idea,” said Louise. “We buy the eBay one and give it to Conrad for his heiress. Has she seen the one she was buying?”
“Well, yes, we could,” Conrad started to look slightly relieved, “and no, she hasn’t seen it or touched it or anything. That is a bloody good idea, Louise! The only problem is that it’s ten grand.”
“Two and a half each, to get us out of this hole?” suggested Samuel.
“It’s fine, I’ll pay it,” said Alison, “maybe we can bargain down the eBayer for a quick sale. I’ll sort it out. Louise, your laptop, I’ll do it now,” Alison turned the laptop around from Louise, who looked a little concerned.
“Don’t look at my browsing history!” she said.
“Ha, no I won’t. Do you mind if I log you out of eBay? I’d like to get this done now.”
“Why the rush?” Samuel sipped some more wine.
“Because this is all my fault, and I want to sort it, and then you Conrad can leave us alone. Leave it with me.”
While Alison was placing a bid for the Netsuke, she glanced at the open tabs on Louise’s browser. Folklore, witches, fairy tales, that kind of thing. Alison didn’t want to click on any tabs but thought it odd that a peer-reviewed physicist like Louise would be interested in any of that mumbo jumbo.
The truth was that Louise was very much into all that mumbo jumbo. She had books in her study all about it, but they were hidden behind some of Jim Al-Khalili’s finest works. Louise had a theory she’d unearthed while doing a deep dive into Japanese culture regarding Netsukes. And this theory was not too well known, either. Some Netsukes, especially the box-wood ones, had a tendency to magically find their way back to their owners, or their owner’s family if it was really old. If they were sold to get a little cash, then sold again and again, it would eventually reappear, maybe after several years, in the possession of one of the descendants of the original owner - magically. Louise had started to do all this research when she found the Netsuke in the freezer. Magic! So she determined to start its journey back. She contacted various members of the International Netsuke Society (yes, there is one, since 1975) and had a lead - Louise had found someone to whom their Netsuke might belong - magically. Plus the one on eBay, which seemed to be some kind of omen, and was helping with the current difficulties - Alison didn’t know that Louise had the original artefact, but it was working out alright so far. The money that she, Alison, Samuel and Conrad were going to have to pay didn’t bother Louise very much at all. Because she was obsessed with Doing The Right Thing by Alison’s Netsuke. To the detriment of quite a lot of things in her life. But, just then, she did feel a little pang -
“Actually, Al, I’ll go halves with the ten k, just let me know your bank details and I’ll pay you half,” said Louise just minutes later when Alison’s bid had been successful.
“Ok, yes, thank you, Lou. But I think it would be better if we did the quarters thing. Conrad? Samuel?”
“Count me out, actually” said Samuel, “I’ve remembered I’ve not got that kind of money any more, since the, well you know.”
“Ok, thirds, Conrad?”
“Certainly. But only when my heiress is happy with her Netsuke.”
“Fair enough.”
“So, Conrad,” said Louise, “are we happy now? How do we contact you when this thing arrives?”
Conrad got his wallet out, pulled out a business card, and handed it to Alison.
“Thanks, that’s great,” said Alison, “now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve all got early starts.”
“Ah, right, yes, I shall be on my way.” Conrad got up and left.
When he’d gone there was a palpable sense of relief amongst the three. That is until Alison said: “Hang on, have we just been duped again? Is Conrad not the mystery car part guy on eBay?”
“It’s fine, I’m sure of it,” said Louise, “I’ve got a good feeling about Conrad, it all made sense to me.”
“Did you see his aura then, Lou?” said Alison.
“Yes. Sure, he’s fine.”
“What?” Alison looked at Louise, “What?”
“Ha, yes, his aura looked fine and dandy to me, he’s a Scorpio and his moon’s rising in the east, on the cusp of a - thing!” Louise managed to make a joke of it.
“Actually, now it’s bugging me,” said Samuel, “he really could be the car part guy. Louise - ring the number on the card. Does it have a website on there as well?”
“OK, let me look at the card,” Louise got her phone out and rang the number.
“Right, let's see. It’s ringing. Voicemail, hang on - hello Conrad, just checking that your number works. Samuel thinks you might be the eBay guy, so please ring back tomorrow and let us know you aren’t!” Louise hung up.
“You bugger, Lou!” said Samuel, “That’s great that is. I’ll be off then. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” And Samuel got his coat and left.
“Louise?”
“Yes?”
“I saw those tabs open on your browser.”
“I thought you might have, yes”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why so many weird sites? I mean for a physicist?”
“Why not? It pays to look at every angle as a scientist.”
“You’ve never talked about it.”
“No, I haven’t”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Ok, I’m off to bed. Goodnight, we’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
When Alison came down the next morning, Louise had gone to work, leaving the house empty. It wasn’t unusual for Lou to go in early, thought Alison, so no big deal. As she looked around the lounge and remembered what went on in that room last night she began to think. She rummaged through her handbag that was left on the armchair and then looked in the freezer. No Netsuke. Dare I look into Lou’s study? No, that would be one step too far, and if Lou had twigged, she’d have taken the damned thing with her. The doorbell rang and so she put on her coat, grabbed her handbag, and opened the front door to Samuel and Mo as usual. Then the landline rang.
“I’ll just get this, it might be Conrad.”
“Sure,” said Mo, Samuel nodded and looked at his watch.
She picked up the phone, “Hello?”
“Hello, is that Louise Newton?”
“Ah, no, she is er, who is this?”
“Ah, no problem, I’ll try her mobile again later, thank you, goodbye.” And they hung up.
“Who was that?” asked Mo.
“No idea. Asked for Lou, then hung up.”
“One of her woo friends, probably,” said Mo.
“What? Oh, yes, let’s just go to work then.”
Once in the car and heading for work, Alison said, “That’s odd. Now Mo, mate. Anything you hear from now on about Lou is strictly private and you should not say anything at all, anything to Lou, ok?”
“My ears are sealed, yes, strictly private, not a word, honest,” Mo puts his fingers in his ears, “La la-la la -”
“Mo!”
“La la lala la la la -”
“MO!”
“Ok, sorry.”
“Go on then Al,” said Samuel.
“So, that was a call for Lou.”
“Yes, got that, and?”
“It was a Japanese lady.”
“How can you tell?”
“Well, obviously I can’t, but my family knows a Japanese family from across the road and, well, I think the accents were the same, Tokyo probably.”
“Wow, that specific.”
“Well, not obviously, but don’t you think it’s odd? A phone call to Lou from Japan? Where the Netsukes come from?”
“Ok, so?” Samuel drove into the works car park, parked and turned to Alison. “Go on, Al.”
“Well, it’s just, oh! My Japanese friends, why didn’t I think of that before?”
“Because, Al,” said Samuel, “it’s all sorted now, isn’t it? At least it will be when the thing arrives.”
“Oh, yes, but it’s worth keeping in mind I suppose. But Lou?”
Samuel let out a big breath, “So what I’m picking up from you, All, is that you suspect your girlfriend of stealing the net…, the arti…, the thing?”
“Yes Sam, I do.”
“Oh dear.”
Alison turned to Mo, “Mo, what did you mean when you said woo friends?”
“So I can speak now, about the things that I’m not allowed to mention to Lou?”
“Yes, Mo, go on.”
“Right, Alison, mate, darling. You and Louise really do need to have a serious tete-a-tete. Seriously. And that is all I’m going to say. La la la la -”
“Sorry Mo, for dragging you into this, I’ll have a chat with Lou tonight.”
“You do that tonight, I don’t want to be a little sneak for for more than one day.”
“Ok Mo, I will.”
Later that evening, at the flat, Alison is talking to Louise, they are both sitting on the sofa together.
“Why are you into all this stuff Lou? I mean, you’ve never mentioned it to me, I had to find out from Mo - what is going on?” Alison asked.
Louise let out a long sigh.
“I have your Netsuke, Al.”
“Why?”
“It goes back to its original owners, and I’m helping it along.”
“But, Lou, that means you have been lying to me. And I’m not sure how to take that. Lying twice, about the folk woo stuff and the Netsuke - and to Sam as well.”
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Is this folklore stuff more important than me? Or you friends?”
“Oh god, Al, I don’t know. Quite possibly, but - “
“Right, I get it.” Alison got up from the sofa.
“No, you don’t understand,” Louise looked on as Alison got her coat from the stand, “wait, Al, let me explain. I’ll explain as well as I can, just for five minutes? Don’t go out just yet?”
Alison put the coat back and stood there looking furiously at Louise.
“Right, sit down Al.”
“No, I’m fine. Five minutes.”
“Ok. Well, sometimes I get obsessed with things. Do you remember that Fleischmann–Pons theory, the one about nuclear fusion? I thought I’d come up with something to prove it and it was like a tail wagging my dog about it, for months.”
Alison continued to stare at Louise, then said: “Yes, just as we met, it confused me at the time, but, go on.”
“Well then, same here. I was talking to Mo and something he said just clicked in my head and I thought I could prove some weird tales Mo was telling me. Scientifically prove them, or at least statistically prove them. So I bought all these books and submerged myself in it all, especially the Japanese angles. Then I found your Netsuke and thought it was some kind of sign.”
“Some kind of sign,” Alison looked at her watch, “two minutes.”
“Please don’t be like this, Al”
“You lied.”
“Oh, yes, yes, I did. I’m so sorry. Lied to myself now I see it, with you standing there. What a mess!” Louise then broke down into uncontrollable sobs. This was new, thought Alison, Louise had never done this before.
“God's sake Lou,” she said and sat beside her, comfortingly.
“No, no, you are right. It’s a mess, and this thing is worth ten thousand pounds, all your money, sorry, sorry.”
“Ok, Lou, ok. So you will have to apologise to Sam, and to Mo, and to Conrad and to me in some kind of formal way.”
“Formal way?” Louise looked up at Alison.
“Yes, a letter or a conference or something, something significant.”
“Yes, ok, yes, I will. I’ll do it tomorrow night, we’ll have a drinks do, invite Sam, Mo, Conrad - “
“Ok, not Conrad,” smiled Alison as they hugged and Alison wondered what she was doing with Louise, as she was so odd. Maybe that’s why they get on, maybe.
The landline phone rang and Louise instinctively went to answer it. She knew a bit of Japanese and Alison couldn’t quite keep up with the conversation, but Louise explained it. The lady from Tokyo, called Akiko, was coming to London to see the Netsuke that had been discussed on the International Netsuke Society’s forums. Akiko was coming tomorrow and they’d arranged to meet in the park, on a bench near the bandstand. Alison was relieved that Louise hadn’t given out their address as well as their phone number.
Akiko had explained that this particular Netsuke must have been the one given away by one of her descendants way back in 1792. There were family stories told down the ages of a Netsuke with a very small cross carved into it by the owner just before it had to be given away. Some very traditional families did not like these, often hidden, adornments of women, so she was forced to give it away. Not sold, for that would mean it had some value. Akiko’s Netsuke had a faint impression of a cross on the mother figure’s breast.
“So you are meeting this Akiko in the park, what time?” asked Alison.
“Twelve noon.”
“Where have you kept it? The Netsuke I mean.”
“In my handbag, here,” Louise pulled the artefact from her handbag, complete with greased paper. She handed it to Alison.
“Thank you, Lou.”
“What, sorry? What are you going to do with it, give it to Conrad? Al?”
“No, it’s fine. Yes, I think I can see the cross too, just here,” she handed it back to Louise.
The other Netsuke arrived the next day, the one from eBay. They now had at least twenty thousand pounds worth of Japanese art in the house. Conrad came round at eleven and took the eBay one, smiled a beautiful smile at Alison and went on his way.
That evening Alison, Louise, Mo and Samuel met at the flat for drinks and for Louise’s formal apology.
“Mo, Sam and especially Alison, my one love, “ she began.
“Give it a rest Lou!” - Alison
“Sorry Al. Mo, Sam and Alison. I’ve been a bit of an obsessive idiot these last few weeks and I want to wholeheartedly apologise to you all. As you might have guessed, I took the Netsuke from the freezer as it seemed to me to be some kind of a sign that my research into very old Japanese magic might be true, now, in this day and age. I was so consumed by it that anything could have been a sign, even a white feather - thanks for that Mo - but to find a Netsuke, well, that blew my mind. I had to follow the magic. The story is that the Netsuke gets back to its original family, eventually, even though it might take hundreds of years. I believed I was the conduit for this one, and well, yes, well, I’ve been an idiot, so I apologise again, and Mo, Al, even Sam - if you see me getting worked up over something else, then please tap me on the shoulder, would you?”
They all raised their glasses and told Louise that she was forgiven. Especially now that it was all essentially over, Conrad had got his Netsuke and so had Akiko.
“There’s one more thing, actually,” said Louise, who was still standing up and addressing her friends.
“I met with Akiko this morning and handed her the Netsuke. She absolutely believed that it belonged to her, and was so grateful, she was in floods of tears, poor lady. But she insisted that I didn't go away without something for me, so she handed me a cheque for three hundred thousand pounds which she also mentioned on the forum. The family had kept it by for a very long time, and with interest rates being what they are, it had built up. She insisted that I cash it immediately, it would be very rude otherwise. So I did, at the bank this afternoon. That’s one hundred thousand for each of you, my friends, I’m not sure I want it.”
“Wow,” said Mo.
“Wow,” said Alison
“Wow,” said Samuel.