THE SHIFTING SANDS OF DAME FORTUNE

A short story by Len Lewis

Solly’s pawnbrokers in Praed Street was an anachronism.

In his back room there were things in corners where Solly had forgotten he had corners.

There were copious dust laden, time ravaged shelves with enough object-d’-curieux for an entire series of Antiques Road shows. Then there was what he called ‘Table Mountain’ – an enormous pile of antique (?) furniture standing proudly against a wall, defying all the laws of physics and gravity, topped off with an enormous oak dining table. Hence the soubriquet. This particular side of the shop he compared to nature – "best not interfered with". This entire time warp was illuminated by a bare 40w bulb hanging from the centre ceiling on the end of a length of cotton covered twin flex with a large loop knot to shorten it.

Solly heaved himself out of his armchair which the constant sitting down in and getting out of had gradually moulded into his shape. He was a big man and the total lack of exercise in latter years ensured he was not getting any smaller.

He shuffled over to the gas ring, picked up the kettle and filled it with water from the tap over the butler sink, replaced it on the hob and turned the key. The gas escaped with a serpent like hiss, he struck a match and the ring exploded into life with a WHUMPH.

I’ll just have a cup of tea and then I might was well close the shop and get ready for Shabbos he mused. Then continued with, if Shabbos comes in any earlier it won’t be worth opening at all on Fridays. Not he thought that too many people frequent my emporium any other day of the week; Ah well, it will be Chanukah next week I’ll get some doughnuts; I like doughnuts, mind you I like cheese cake too, but not Hamantashun; that’s the only problem with Purim. Hamantashun. All this musing over culinary trivia was brought to an abrupt halt by the metallic clang of the bell as a result of someone opening the front door. Marvellous, he thought not a soul all day - now I want to close, a customer. What’s the betting he doesn’t want to buy anything but needs a little advance on something - just for the weekend you understand.

Solly ambled through the doorway into the main shop where he was confronted by the filthiest pile of rags and tousled hair it had ever been is gross misfortune to have come across.

"Can I help you … er .. Sir?" Enquired Solly gingerly. The pile of clothes shuffled slightly, possibly to prove to Solly that there was somebody alive in there other than the manifest livestock that had chosen to set up home in the aforementioned real estate.

"Good afternoon to you kind sir" declared the unfortunate one. Who promptly broke into a well-orchestrated bout of coughing, wheezing, sneezing and gasping for air, culminating in a crescendo of sniffling and snuffling, which was finally brought to a halt by the cuff of a filthy sleeve being drawn across a less than sterile nose. Solly began to feel slightly nauseous at this stomach churning experience and sub-consciously moved backwards from the counter, feeling very grateful that there was this two-foot barrier between them. He leaned forward and diplomatically nudged a newly opened box of man sized in his client’s direction. The bum stretched out what Solly noticed to be a very delicate hand for one such as he, grabbed half the tissues in the box and stuffed them gratefully in his pocket.

"Sorry about that" exclaimed the wretch. "It’s this cold damp air, it brings on a slight malaise I contracted while on convoy duty on the Murmansk run in the last war. It’s beginning to snow outside you know".

"Can I be of service to you?" enquired Solly eager to conclude this business before any more of his goods and chattels disappeared the way of the Kleenex.

"Well kind sir" began the transient one. "I wondered if you could advance me something, or even buy my violin?"

Solly’s heart sank.

"My friend" he began. "I have more violins than the Israeli Philharmonic – I need another violin like a reindeer needs a hat rack".

Unwittingly Solly’s voice was increasing all the time until he was almost bellowing.

"If there is anything in life I don’t need it’s another violin, now, if you had maybe a Sackbut or a Lyre perhaps, maybe we could do some business, but violins no way"

"Alright" said the tramp. "Be straight with me! Do you want it, yes or no?"

This bare faced cheek made Solly smile and he calmed down very quickly.

"Alright said Solly, you win, I’ll have a look at it". Then snapped "But no promises though", pointing his stubby index finger.

The tramp needed no further encouragement; he rummaged about under his ex army greatcoat and produced a parcel the size of a violin. Solly was fascinated, how on earth did he manage to conceal something this size under his coat without the merest hint of, or suggestion, that anything other than the wearer was in it? Solly was just about to ask whether he had anything else concealed about his person, a suite of furniture maybe? But wisely chose to say nothing and went about the business in hand.

Solly could not help noticing how neatly packaged it was. The vagabond untied the restraining string with a sailor’s care then released it from the heavy brown paper outer wrapper which he folded neatly into a small square and stuffed into his greatcoat pocket along with the string. He then handed the parcel to Solly.

Solly removed the remaining sheets of newspaper, like peeling the skins off an onion. When he got to the final layer the newspaper tore revealing just a shard of the back of the instrument.

Solly stopped short as if pole axed.

That colour !!!!!!!

That patina !!!!!!!

He’d read about it and seen drawings and photographs on more occasions than he’d care to remember but could this possibly be "IT".

He removed the final piece of covering with the reverence of one handling the holiest of holy artefacts, he held it by its neck and gazed at it in awe, his strength gradually draining away and his feet feeling as heavy as lead. He looked at the distinctive shape and the tell tale signs, they were all there. Solly thought just one word – YES!!

"Ahem, excuse me" Solly was brought back to reality by the itinerant reminding him he was still there.

"Well Captain, what do you say; can you help me with a little something for the weekend?"

Cool, - cool thought Solly; his mind and pulse racing – For pity’s sake, PLAY IT COOL.

"Um, I er I’m not sure I er don’t really know" stammered Solly; "Look, I’ll tell you what, here’s a tenner for the weekend, but let me talk it over with the wife and if she’s agreeable I’ll give you a bit more on Monday, in the afternoon, Oh by the way, do you have the bow?"

"Sorry, I almost forgot"

Then, as if by magic, he put his right hand behind his head and pulled the bow out from under the back of his coat - as Robin Hood may well have drawn an arrow from his quiver.

Solly shook his head in disbelief, I just can’t help wondering what this character is going to do next, he thought.

"Well, thank you most kindly for the advance" said the peripatetic "See you on Monday" and then after a pause "In the afternoon". After which he turned slowly and walked to the door with a sort of rolling gait that seemed to be the preserve of sailors and gentleman-knights-of-the-road. He pulled the door open, the bell tolled the knell of passing customer and he was gone into the cold, dark, late afternoon air.

Solly lifted the hinged section of the counter and passed through, he hurried to the front door and dropped the latch on the locks and drew the bolts and the blinds on the windows, went back to his side of the counter, dropping the flap in passing, set the alarm, switched off the lights, picked up the violin and bow and retired to the sanctuary of his back room.

This shop is now very CLOSED he thought. Now let me just try, thought Solly.

Solly would be the first to admit that he was no Yehudi Menuin, but with luck he could find middle C and given enough whiskey the first few bars of Hava Negilla.

Nervously he put the violin under his chin and placed his fingers for middle C, he could feel himself trembling as he raised the bow and drew it slowly across the strings. He then plucked up courage and tried the rest of his repertoire, sober – exactly as he’d imagined, like angels dancing on the catgut. What a heavenly choir, he thought.

His serenity was brought to a shuddering halt by the dulcet tones of his wife Sadie shouting down the stairs of his flat above.

"Solly, is that you down there?"

"No" replied the henpecked one with an impish chuckle "It’s the village blacksmith come to crown you Queen-of-the-May".

Solly could not discern her reply, but he knew from bitter experience it probably contained the words senile, old and fool.

He made his way up the creaking staircase to his flat. Sadie was busy in the kitchen preparing shabbos.

"Hurry up or you’ll be late for Shul" she said without looking round.

"I’m not going tonight" Solly replied, "They’ll just have to make do without me, we’ll make Kiddish here".

Solly’s mind had become numb, totally unable to concentrate on anything other than how was he going to kill the time until Sotherbys opened on Monday morning.

Shabbos evening at the Levy’s was a somewhat stilted affair. Instead of the usual cut and thrust of witty repartee over the shabbos table the conversation flowed like treacle.

Sadie slid her hand over the pure white tablecloth and gently held Solly’s.

"So tell me Solly, what’s the matter?" she enquired gently.

"Nothing" he replied

"Don’t give me with the nothing" she retorted a little more sternly.

Solly’s mind was racing, he daren’t tell her that by this time next week they could be rich beyond the dreams of avarice. He mellowed the story somewhat, for her benefit.

"I, um, I er, I advanced someone ten pounds on a violin" he managed to croak.

"Ten pounds on another violin" screamed Sadie like a banshee with a toothache and then pianissimo "violin", then in the same tone "Well, that’s not so bad, its not the most stupid thing you’ve ever done" adding venomously "Very nearly the most stupid, but not quite".

The rest of the meal, the washing up and indeed the rest of the evening was conducted in tomb like silence. Then each one feigning tiredness they opted for an early night.

Shabbos dawned eventually, cold, grey, wet and thoroughly miserable. Solly never thought he would be happy to greet such a morning, but after lying awake for hour after endless hour he was glad of the respite. "Solly shall sleep no more, a tuppenny ha’penny low life hath murdered sleep" he found himself mumbling. Not quite what Shakespeare wrote he thought but he certainly knows how Billy Boy felt when he penned those words.

For Solly that weekend was the longest on record, it must have lasted at least three weeks; maybe a month, but at last it was MONDAY.

This time Solly needed no encouragement he washed and dressed himself in his Shabbos best, even treating himself to a dab of witch hazel behind his ears.

Sadie could only stare in dumb disbelief at the scenario unfolding before her eyes. If the weekend was a trial, this was more than she could bear. "Solly" she began nervously "Solly, is there something you want to tell me?" she said quietly not being sure herself if she wanted the answer to be yes or no.

"Most definitely" replied Solly, "but not just now"

"Solly" said Sadie very quietly

"Yes, my little nest of vipers" replied Solly sarcastically

"Is there…. Ahem.. " She cleared her throat .."Is there another woman?" she began to sob silently and then bellowed "It’s that Mamie Gold from the ladies guild isn’t it?"

Solly replied wickedly "NO and most definitely NO and in that order: Now listen my little piranha fish, I shall be back about one o’clock and please try not to worry, there is absolutely nothing wrong, in fact everything might just be alright". So saying he put on his overcoat and hat and swept out of the front door of the flat, closing it firmly with a slam behind him.

Hmmmm, thought Solly as he passed through the hallowed portals of one of the most famous auction houses in the world. Very nice he thought, then tempered it with, what use is a shop like this, it hasn’t any living accommodation above?

"Good morning Sir, may I be of assistance?" Solly’s amateur surveying was interrupted by the appearance of a young, very attractive Asian girl.

"Oh yes, good morning to you" fumbled Solly, and continued with "Could you direct me to your musical instruments’ department please?"

"I might be able to help you there sir," replied the prettier of the two "Could you tell me what it’s about?"

"My name is Solomon Levy, and I would like you opinion on this please," said Solly, placing his parcel on a strategically placed table and unwrapping it with the care of a surgeon. The pretty one picked up the violin, briefly examined the front and back when the welcoming smile drained from her face and her entire persona adopted a far more sombre appearance.

"Could I ask you to wait just one moment Sir while I consult with a colleague?"

Not waiting for a reply the girl disappeared through an arch and into an adjoining room. Five minutes later, which to Solly seemed as long as the weekend, he noticed the brown one framed in the arch speaking to an elderly male colleague and slyly gesticulating in Solly’s direction, their conversation over, the man strode towards Solly in a business-like manner.

"Mr Levy?"

"Yes"

"Mr Solomon Levy?"

"Yes"

"My name’s Shrubsole; Arthur Shrubsole; tell me do you have proof of ownership of this violin?"

"Well – sort of"

"Sort of?"

Shrubsole ushered Solly to a chair and table, they both sat down at opposite ends.

"What exactly do you mean, sort of?"

The truth of the matter is that for all the thought that Solly had put into this meeting, this most obvious of all questions is one that Solly never thought of and quite honestly, it momentarily wrong-footed him, but then countered with –

"Give me 24 hours and you will have all the proof you need, but first tell me, is it what I think it is?"

"Mr Levy, I have absolutely no idea what you think it is, but I have to tell you that this violin is the finest example of the work of Stradivarius that it has ever been my privilege to handle and I have been auctioneering for over 35 years, indeed, should you be interested in sending it to auction I, on behalf of this company, would consider it to be no less than an honour to handle the transaction for you"

That’s the first hurdle over, thought Solly, now for round two.

"Erm, how much do….."

"At the very best" interrupted Shrubsole "We would put a reserve price of no less than one million pounds"

The next thing Solly remembered is being gently slapped about the face by a pretty young nurse who was wafting a bottle of smelling salts under his nose with her other hand, whilst gently cooing "Mr Levy, are you alright Mr Levy?"

"Wh…wh.. what happened?" exclaimed Solly gradually regaining consciousness.

"You fainted and fell off your chair," explained Shrubsole.

"I dreamt I just come into a million pounds"

"That was no dream Sir, that was reality," replied the auctioneer. Solly regained his composure, tied up the loose ends of business and left the shop with almost indecent haste.

He rushed along Bond Street as fast as his legs were able to carry his huge torso in the direction of the tube station when he suddenly, and without warning, pulled up sharp causing the two people behind him to crash into him. They both apologised and continued on.

Solly, he thought; Solly BIN ICH GUR MESHIGGAH? – (Am I completely mad?) Why are you taking the train with the other peasants, you’re a rich man now. Then he answered with, I’m taking the train because I bought a return ticket and it would surely be fraud to buy a return ticket and not use the return half. So let them sue me, he countered. I’ll fight them in the courts. I’m a rich man now.

"TAXI, Praed Street please driver, I’ll show you where"

Solly entered his flat by the side door of his shop. Gently humming the strains of `If I were a rich man’ he went into the living room and was confronted by Sadie and another man.

"Solly" began Sadie. "This is Dr Ginsberg, you probably know him from Shul, well I phoned Dr Ginsberg and told him of your strange behaviour and he has kindly agreed to come over and have a word with you".

"Dr Ginsberg" bellowed Solly holding out his huge hand "How are you? It’s so good to see you," said Solly with an inane grin on his face. They shook hands and Solly continued with "You know Doctor, I’ve always admired you, a pillar of the community, always so wise and knowledgeable, so perhaps you could answer me this question?"

"If I can," replied the doctor.

"How do poor people enjoy themselves?"

Sadie and the doctor gave each other a knowing glance, which did not go unnoticed by Solly.

"Don’t worry" began Solly "I’m not mad, in fact I’ve never been more sane in all my life"

A strange look of intent came over Solly’s face that neither of the other two had every seen before.

"No, definitely not mad; So why don’t you both just sit down, shut up and listen to me for a change"

Sadie most certainly had never seen him this masterful before. The three of them picked up a chair each, quietly drew them to the table and sat down.

Solly began his story very slowly from ALEPH the time the tramp came through the door that last fateful Friday and did not miss a thing until he came to the time in Sotherbys and the mention of the reserve price, when there was a sudden THUMP from within the flat.

The next thing Sadie remembered is Dr Ginsberg gently slapping her face and applying the asafoetida.

Now where did that happen before? Mused Solly.

"So you see Dr Ginsberg, I’m not at all mad, Oh and I’m sorry about your fee. Oh, what the hell, send it to you anyway, I can afford it"

"Solly" shouted Sadie "Solly, look at the time, the tramp he’ll be back soon; don’t forget proof of ownership; and get changed; don’t let him see you dressed like that, he’ll suspect something"

"Keep calm. Keep calm," shouted Solly "Act natural, keep calm"

The three of them proceeded to run round the room like headless chickens shouting "Keep calm" and "Act natural".

Somehow or other they made it downstairs to Solly’s hideaway in the back of the shop. Solly went through, opened the blinds, drew the bolts on the door, turned the sign to OPEN and switched on the lights.

The three of them waited in total silence for about twenty minutes, until CLANGGG!!!! They all jumped in unison and thought what a beautiful sound. Solly put his finger to his lips and went "Shhhhh – leave this to me" he whispered.

Solly went through to the front of the shop thinking all the time, cool boy, play it cool. Oh yes! It was him all right; Solly resisted the urge to scratch.

"Good afternoon Sir, can I help you?"

"Ere, come orf it guv, you remember me don’t you?"

"Should I?"

"Course you should – last Friday, the violin, you said you could help me out a bit more wiv it"

"Oh yes, I remember" replied Solly, then thought `Could I forget?’

"No, what I said was I MIGHT be able to help you a bit more"

"Alright then, well….. can you?"

"You’re in luck my friend, I’m in a good mood, here’s another tenner, that makes £20 in all"

"Oh!"

"Oh! What do you mean, Oh?"

"Actually guv, I was oping if you could see your way clear to doing a little bit more that that"

"More" bellowed Solly, then thought, `Good grief, now I know how Mr Bumble felt’

Solly offered another fiver, but still the tramp was not satisfied.

This horse-trading went on for about 15 minutes or more and the tramp had pushed Solly up to a staggering £45 and still he was not satisfied. Solly by now was getting very irritable and extremely displeased with this guttersnipe. In fact he was most anxious to get on with the rest of his most affluent life. In desperation Solly sucked in hard though clenched teeth and said to the tramp speaking slowly and quietly "My friend, I have offered you £45, that is almost double what I have ever paid for a violin, please could you tell me how much did you expect for this wretched instrument"

"Oh my gawd" replied the tramp "You’ve got me on that one, I really don’t know, but I thought about maybe A MILLION QUID OR MORE!"