We had fourteen parcels to pack and post this morning, which we managed in reasonable time. I was happily photographing and loading medallions on eBay when the boss arrived and hobbled through the door.
He has a bad back and stick that is too short for him – a recipe for disaster, as I know to my cost.
Then we had cake.
After that the other two went home, one to a pre-planned afternoon off and the other to an afternoon of stretching out with painkillers and hot water bottles.
That left me alone in charge of the shop. Just me and several thousand shillings.
Two hours later there were still several thousand shillings, but they were arranged differently.
When I write the chapter called My Working Life – The Shilling Years for my autobiography it’s going to need some work. I may have to tell the story of how Kylie Minogue came in to buy Australian coins for her father’s collection.
She spent several hours picking over our fine stock of antipodean numismatic gems before noting the time and wondering if she had time to stay.
I should be so lucky
Disclaimer: Shillings, always Shillings… is a lazily written work of fiction and the author would be glad not to be sued by Miss Minogue, who has never actually been to the shop. Though she would be welcome to pop in if she’s ever passing.
Other pop stars are available, though their songs probably wouldn’t have fitted so well and, frankly, if S Club Seven, Blue or Little Mix came to the shop I probably wouldn’t recognise them.