Classic Bestsellers from Josephine Cox: Bumper Collection. Josephine Cox

John nodded. ‘I heard.’

      ‘So, will we go, or will we stay?’ The little man had hoped the two of them would leave and spend an hour or two in the Sailor’s Rest, before returning to their lodgings.

      ‘We stay!’ Straightening his shoulders and looking ahead to the auctioneer, John told Archie, ‘For all we know, most of the folks here might just be dreamers like ourselves. Happen when it comes right down to it, they’ve got no more money in their pockets than I have.’

      Archie thought on that, then he began panicking when the auctioneer banged the wooden gavel on the table. ‘Right, gentlemen!’ Tilbrook blew his nose and looked round the room, his glance momentarily resting on the solicitor. By now, the big man was at the back of the room, raised by the upward slope of the floor and in Tilbrook’s direct line of vision. Standing shoulder to shoulder with him was the equally large, and utterly respectable, form of Miss Harriet Witherington.

      From where they stood, the two of them had a clear view of the proceedings, while the only way the bidders would get sight of them, was to make a deliberate turnabout.

      ‘We’re off!’ Archie could hardly contain himself. ‘What happens now?’ he kept asking. ‘Who’s bidding? Why aren’t you having a go?’ It was his first auction, and the excitement was unbearable.

      In minutes the bids went higher than John could have foreseen. ‘Thirty-two guineas!’ The auctioneer was red in the face, his worried eyes shifting to the solicitor on every count. ‘Thirty-four … it’s you, sir.’ His eyes searched the crowd. ‘Yes? Do I have thirty-five?’

      ‘Bid now!’ Archie urged. ‘Go on!’ But John preferred to wait a minute longer.

      At thirty-six guineas, the bidding began to slow down. Then suddenly it picked up again and two of the bidders were the men standing directly behind John. Having made the deal beforehand between themselves, they could afford to go that extra mile, and much to John’s consternation, that was exactly what they did. John could hear other bids coming in, but he was distracted by the murmuring behind him. In the excitement, each man wanted to be the one in control.

      The auctioneer grew nervous. ‘Thirty-nine … I have thirty-nine guineas!’ He paused. ‘Forty, then! The bid stands at forty guineas.’ By now the sweat was running down his face and his eyes were more on the solicitor than on the bidding clients.

      Taking everyone by surprise, there was a sudden and unexpected development.

      Feeling confident, the two men behind John paused to exchange a quick word; and at that moment, four things happened in quick succession: John held up his number, as did another buyer at the far side of the room; Harriet gave the solicitor a dig in the ribs, he lifted his head and the gavel went down with unusual speed. ‘Sold at forty-one guineas!’

      Tilbrook’s voice startled the two men, who couldn’t believe their ears. ‘Number sixteen? Congratulations, sir,’ he said to John. ‘If you’ll make your way to the office, please.’ Then he picked up his gavel and paperwork, and stepped smartly down from his desk. ‘Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, that’s all for today.’

      Behind him the cries went up. ‘Too quick! He brought the hammer down too bloody quick! What the ’ell were Tilbrook playing at? It’s a fishy business, if you ask me. Forty-one guineas for that site! It’s givin’ it away!’

      The loudest protests went up from the two friends, who rushed after the auctioneer, furious at being cheated out of their prize. The other bidder had already stormed out.

      ‘What the devil’s going on, man? You knew we were serious bidders. You brought that damned gavel down without giving us a chance!’

      Bertram Tilbrook was used to such outcries. ‘You know the rules,’ he said firmly. ‘If you don’t keep up with the bidding, you lose out.’

      ‘But we were keeping up!’ one of the farmers objected. ‘Good God! We were the only two bidders left.’

      ‘No, you were not!’ The auctioneer felt worried enough without letting these two get the better of him. ‘You stopped bidding and I thought you were out of it. Another bid came in. I gave you time to respond, and you didn’t. It’s no use blaming anyone but yourselves. The parcel of land is sold and that’s that.’

      Feeling both angry and guilty, he hurried back to his office, unwilling to meet anyone’s eye. ‘Damn and bugger it!’ he muttered as he went. ‘Damn and bugger it!’

      Behind him, the two men got to blaming each other. ‘If you hadn’t stopped me to ask how far I was prepared to go,’ one said nastily, ‘we’d have got it easy!’

      The other farmer gave him a shove. ‘And you, Amos, should have known better than to keep pushing up the price, yer stupid bugger. You could see we were the only two after it.’

      ‘But we weren’t, were we, you blummen bastard. Thanks to you, somebody else sneaked in and took it from under our noses!’

      Oblivious to the furore, John felt stunned by events. ‘I can’t believe it! I just can’t believe it.’ Grabbing Archie by the shoulders, he shook him so hard that the old fellow’s teeth rattled in his head. ‘WE DID IT!’ he cried jubilantly. ‘I don’t know how, but by God, we did it!’

      As the people poured out, they congratulated John and Archie. ‘Well done, lads!’ someone told John, and another chimed in with, ‘Did my heart good, so it did.’ They all knew the two disappointed bidders. ‘They’ve already got more than they need,’ someone else said sagely. ‘It’s time one of us ordinary blokes got the better o’ them.’

      ‘Did you hear that?’ John felt so good he thought he’d have to dance right there and then on the spot – and much to everyone’s delight, that’s exactly what he did. ‘One of us.’ He reminded Archie of what the man had said. ‘We’re one of them now,’ he laughed.

      ‘No, we ain’t,’ Archie answered with a grin. ‘’Cause we’re landowners now.’

      Taken aback by his friend’s rush of arrogance, John corrected him. ‘We’ve been lucky today, Archie. Here in Liverpool, we’ve found our place, and our place is amongst the workers. The hardest part is now. We may be landowners, but that’s only the start. We’ve still got mountains to climb.’

      Sobered by Archie’s unthinking remark, he said quietly, ‘Every man has a dream, but he can’t do it by himself.’ Nodding towards the last few stragglers, he said, ‘They are the kind of men we need. Men who aren’t afraid to work. Men who will never achieve their own dream, but who like to see folks such as you and me do it for them. Do you understand what I’m saying, Archie?’

      The little man nodded. ‘You’re right,’ he said penitently. ‘I should be ashamed.’

      John gave him a friendly slap on the back. ‘You’ve nothing to be ashamed about,’ he said. ‘In fact, you’ve a right to be really proud. Nobody knows better than me how you’ve always done your share and more. But now we’ve got to get busy. Firstly we’ve to hand over my savings and collect the deeds. Then we’ll survey our little kingdom. After that, we’ll go home and wash up, put on our best togs, and take ourselves off to celebrate.’

      He thought of Harriet, of her generosity and her belief in him. ‘If yon Harriet wants to come, we’ll take her as well.’ He gave Archie a cheeky wink. ‘I reckon she’d be glad to come along. She’s taken a real fancy to you.’

      ‘Lord help me then!’ the little man chuckled. ‘I’ve seen prettier horses. Besides, how could I ever get my arms far enough round her to give her a hug?’

      ‘Prettier horses, eh?’ John teased him. ‘And what makes you think you’re such an oil painting?’

      Archie wagged a finger at him. ‘Now, now. There’s no need to get all personal.’ He took on a look of embarrassment. ‘In fact, if the truth were told, I do believe I’ve developed