‘SOLD! FOR ONE HUNDRED and twenty thousand pounds,’ said Poltimore as he brought down the hammer with a thud. ‘Lot thirty-nine,’ he said, turning to the next page of the catalogue. ‘A white jade marriage bowl of the Qianlong period. Shall I open the bidding at ten thousand pounds?’
Poltimore looked up to see the Dowager Duchess of Hertford making an entrance, accompanied by another lady he didn’t recognize. They were led down the central aisle by an assistant and, although the sale room was packed, they were shown to two vacant seats near the front, whose reserved signs were quickly removed before the two ladies sat down.
Virginia enjoyed the murmurs around her, to show that she had arrived. Although the sale had begun at seven o’clock, Mr Poltimore had advised her there was no need to turn up before 7.45, as he didn’t anticipate Lot 43 would be coming under the hammer much before 8.15, possibly 8.30.
She and Priscilla were seated in the fifth row, which Poltimore had assured her were the best seats in the room, not unlike house seats in a West End theatre. As Virginia had no interest in a jade marriage bowl of the Qianlong period, she tried to take in what was going on around her, and hoped it wasn’t too obvious that this was the first time she’d attended a major auction.
‘It’s so exciting,’ she said, as she gripped Priscilla’s hand, admiring the men in the audience who were dressed in dinner jackets, obviously going on to another function once the sale was over, while the rest were wearing smart suits and colourful ties. But it was the women she was most fascinated by, dressed in their designer outfits with the latest accessories. For them, this was more of a fashion show than an auction, each one trying to outdo the other, as if it were the opening night of a new play. Priscilla had told her that sometimes the final price could be decided by these women, who often had plans to make sure a particular item went home with them that evening, while some of the men would bid higher and higher simply to impress the woman they were with – and sometimes a woman they weren’t with.
The room was large and square and Virginia couldn’t see an empty seat. She calculated there must be around four hundred potential customers in a room crammed with collectors, dealers and the simply curious. In fact, several of the audience were having to stand at the back.
Directly in front of her stood Mr Poltimore, on a raised semi-circular dais that offered him a perfect view of his victims. Behind the dais stood another, smaller group of senior staff, experts in their own fields, who were there to assist and advise the auctioneer, while others took a note of the successful bidder and the hammer price. To Poltimore’s right, reined in behind a loose rope, were a group of men and women, notepads open, pens poised, who Virginia assumed were the press.
‘Sold! For twenty-two thousand pounds,’ said Poltimore. ‘Lot forty, an important polychrome decorated carved wood figure of a seated Luohan, circa 1400. I have an opening bid of one hundred thousand.’
The sale was clearly warming up, and Virginia was delighted when the Luohan sold for ￡240,000 – forty thousand above its high estimate.
‘Lot forty-one, a rare celadon jade model of a lion.’
Virginia had no interest in the lion, which was being held up by a porter for all to see. She looked to her right and noticed for the first time a long table, slightly raised, on which stood a dozen white phones, each manned by a member of Sotheby’s staff. Poltimore had explained to her that they represented overseas clients, or those who simply didn’t want to be seen in the sale room, although they would sometimes be seated discreetly among the audience. Three of the staff were on the phone, hands cupped, whispering to their clients, while the other nine phones lay idle because, like her, those clients were not interested in the little jade lion. Virginia wondered how many of the phones would be ringing when Poltimore opened the bidding for Lot 43.
‘Lot forty-two. An extremely rare, enamelled, imperial yellow-ground floral Yuhuchunping vase. I have an opening bid of one hundred thousand.’
Virginia could feel her heart beating, aware that the next lot to be announced would be her two Ming vases. When the hammer came down on Lot 42 at ￡260,000, a buzz of anticipation swept around the room. Poltimore looked down at the duchess and gave her a benign smile as two porters placed the magnificent vases on separate stands each side of him.