My walk to work takes me through the Dairymoor, into Wickham Square.
We never know who will walk in the door, although we now have a lot of ‘regulars’.
They visit us during the warmer months, sometimes daily. The cold tends to keep them away. However, yesterday they appeared, wrapped up warm in camel coats as if they had stepped out of a 40’s movie.
Their Passion for ornate, stylish china and crystal amongst other elegant objects keeps them coming back. It’s rare they leave without buying either a beautiful fine china dinner service, Waterford crystal glasses or bone china teaset.
I imagined their home as a Victoian mansion in the countryside where they held dinner parties.
Recently I agreed to deliver a piece of furniture to their home. To my surprise they live in a ‘normal’ terrace house in the suburbs of a nearby town. They told me that she worked in an office and he worked as a Forman in a factory. They had met later in life and it was only now that they could afford the nice things they always wanted.
He is a tall, scruffy, formidable man with dreadlocks folded to prevent them dragging the ground. She is older, tiny and unable to speak, she clings to him smiling up at him, ignoring everyone else.
They visit the Market most weeks as he likes to buy rustic lamps brought back from France and pick up a bargain and they always stop for a coffee and cake in the Coffeehouse.
He has been her carer for years and told us that he wouldn’t want it any other way, it’s obvious he feels protective of her and would never let her come to any harm.
On the whole most people we meet are cheerful; they’re shopping so who wouldn’t be!