“Oh, great. What have you been doing?”
I smile excitedly. “I love London. I have been shopping all day and looking around with Mark.” “How is Mark?” she asks.
“Hmm, we need wine for that conversation.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, but he’s definitely different to what I expected. We will dissect the pros and cons on Saturday night. We are still going out aren’t we?”
“Yes, I can’t wait, and I’m sleeping at yours remember.”
“Oh, I miss you. Come and rescue me.” I smile as my eyes flick back to Mark sitting on a bench seat as he waits.
“Is he really that bad?” she asks.
“No.” I hesitate. “I don’t know, maybe I was expecting different. It will work out. Glad to know you are still alive, though.”
She laughs out loud. “Just.”
“I will ring you tonight.”
“Bye, babe.” She hangs up.
* * *
I bounce back to Mark, feeling more like myself, and we return to our shopping. The street is crowded and eclectic, and it really does feel as though I’m in another country… which I am, so it makes sense. I see a red phone box and I quickly take out my phone and snap a picture. Oh my God, I thought they only existed in the movies. I smile to myself and I feel like screaming to the unnoticing crowd look a red phone box. I watch all the busy, unenthusiastic people rushing from one place to the next, like ants in a nest. Everyone has a job to do here and they are totally preoccupied with the task at hand. Are they all aware how beautiful this place is or do they take it for granted? I suppose it’s fair to say that I tear around Sydney with the same rush, rush, rush attitude and probably miss so much of my beautiful surroundings.
Along to the right of the street I come to a cobblestone laneway and I peer down the small road. At the end I see a small antique shop with a sign hanging down over the door.
“Hmm, what’s down there? It looks interesting,” I ask Mark.
“Don’t know. Let’s check it out.”
The name intrigues me, so I head in that direction to investigate. “I might just look in here quickly.”
“Take your time. I’ll go and get us some coffee and meet you on the bench seat over there.” He points over to the park and I nod.
The black gloss painted door is heavy and old, and a bell is attached to the top, ringing loudly as I walk in and announcing my arrival.
My eyes look around the cluttered space in awe. It’s a traditional antique shop, complete with the full antique shop ambience, including the old and musty smells. Every space on every wall is filled with shelf after shelf of clocks, dolls, bears and lampshades. You name it and it’s here. Grey and crème velvet floral wallpaper lines the walls.
“Wow,” I whisper to myself I did not expect this Aladdin’s cave of treasure. The shop seemed small from the front but is actually quite large on the inside with lots of aisles and furniture set up in the corner.
A little old lady comes around from the hidden back room. She would have to be ninety.
“Hello, my dear. Can I help you with anything?”
I smile at her hunched over posture. “Just looking, thanks.” I walk up and down the aisles and pick up an old rose teacup and saucer. It’s a beautiful pink and has gold gilding around the edges. Oh, I love this. I turn it over and see the price sticker is only ￡15.00. I have no idea what that equates to in Australian dollars, but I don’t care—I’m getting it. I continue around the shop with a huge smile on my face.
This is why I wanted to come to England. We don’t have history in Australia. The whole country is only 250 years old. Our history was mostly borne in England, and I intend to inhale every breath of it while I’m here. I continue looking around, walking over to the old cabinets to peer through the glass tops. Filled with rows and rows of antique jewelry, they fascinate me. My eyes roll back and forth over the lines of trays, and then I see it. In the bottom right corner is a ring. It’s rose gold with an oval green emerald stone sitting in the centre of it. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It’s so feminine, yet so different. I keep looking at the other pieces but my eyes are constantly drawn back to this one ring.
“Would you like to try it on, dear?” The old lady asks.
“Oh, umm.” I shrug. “Why not? Yes, please.”
She smiles a knowing smile at me. “You have excellent taste. That ring is very, very old.”
“Oh.” I smile as she hands it to me and I stand still and stare at it for a minute. It’s intriguing.
“Can you feel the beautiful energy coming from that ring?” she asks.
My eyes rise to meet hers and I frown not understanding her meaning.
“The women who have owned that ring have all been beautiful souls. I can feel you also have the gift. That stone it carries is an emerald.” She smiles.