Miranda Book1  Ring of Castles

Chapter 1

“For God’s sake woman, what on earth are you doing to that precious chair?” Saxon ran across the yard like some avenging angel and grabbed her arm before the paintbrush could put its color on the piece of furniture in front of her. “That is a gem, a beautiful thing and you were about to desecrate it.”

Miranda shook her arm free and splashed paint on the man and herself in the process.

“Who the hell are you?” she answered with almost a snarl. “I am in my own yard painting my own furniture and you rush over and attack me.”

“I didn’t attack you. I prevented a crime.”

“Oh yeah,” Miranda was not buying it. “I could ring the police. You are trespassing and you attacked me.”

“I did not. Put that darn paintbrush down. You are giving me the creeps.” He softened the tone and held out his hands. “Please, put it down. That chair is faux bamboo. It is mahogany decorated to look like bamboo. The rattan seat is hand made. It is an arts and crafts item from around nineteen ten and it might or might not be a copy or a genuine piece by one of my favorite designers.” He paused. “I’ll buy it from you.”

“It’s a chair,” she declared. “You sit on it and eat your dinner at a table.”

“It’s a special chair. Please don’t paint it.”

“It’s my chair. I bought the house and there was stuff in the shed. I need a chair. I need a bit of color and there it was.” Saxon paced back and forwards. His longish camel coat swung around and he took the flat cap he wore over the floppy blond hair and scratched at his head. It did cross her mind that he had long slim legs. She pushed away the thought.

“If I sell it and give you the money, will you leave it as it is?”

“Don’t know,” Miranda answered.

“Can I look at it properly?” the man asked and then came and held out a hand. “Saxon Haig, antiques dealer and Arts and Crafts nutter.”

“And English. That explains a lot,” she replied. Then she added that she was Miranda Montgomery and he could look at the chair if he wanted to. Saxon shot over and turned the chair upside down. He muttered to himself as he inspected the shape of the legs and found a little mark on the side of one arm. He put it down and stood back.

“Don’t you think it is beautiful? These were meant to be looked at and not sat upon.” Miranda looked at the man who had erupted into her yard and realised it was genuine. He was not putting on an act. He was almost drooling over the chair. He had almost forgotten she was there.

“Another one in the shed,” she said and could not help smiling as his head snapped in her direction.

“Say that again.”

“Another one in the shed.”

“Where’s the shed,” he asked almost jumping up and down. “Were you going to paint that as well? Please tell me you didn’t already paint it. Please.”

Miranda wiped her hands on a cloth and went to head for the shed. He picked up the chair and followed.

“Don’t leave that out there. It is worth stealing.”

She went around the house and over to the shed that was a little distance from the back door. Beyond the shed was a fence but it was not a sturdy one and gave little protection if someone wanted to climb over it. The shed was more of a summerhouse with a veranda that could be used to sit and relax. An old lounger was left where it had last been used. Saxon hesitated and glanced at it before he followed Miranda inside.

Then he stopped dead and picked up the second chair that she had said was there. It was a twin of the other and mercifully, had not been touched.

“Thank the Lord, you left it,” he murmured. “That makes a pair and a pair is more valuable than a single one.” He put the chair down gently and moved over to a set of drawers and then a cabinet. There were some discarded light fittings and some boxes with assorted bits and pieces.

Saxon leaned against the wooden wall.

“Are these yours?”

Miranda nodded.

“I only moved in last week. Bought the house and when I had no chairs, I came out here to see if there was maybe a folding chair or something left behind. I found these.”

“Miranda,” he said and then gave her a rather attractive smile, “don’t suppose you have a coffee by any chance?”

“No chairs though. Can we sit on these?”

“No,” he looked agitated again. “We can sit on the floor.” That did make her laugh and she told him that she did have coffee and cake.

“I have an oven that is working so I made a cake.”

 “Does this shed have a lock?” He was looking around as he asked and she said that the key was in the lock. “Put them in and lock the door.” Miranda did as he asked and then he picked up the lounger from the veranda. “Put this in as well.”

She was torn between believing him and wondering if she had just asked a mad person into her house for coffee.

In the house she had coffee in a pot anyway and it was just a case of pouring it into mugs. He took cream with his and three sugars.

“How do you stay thin using sugar like that?” she asked.

“Nervous energy. Never stand still,” he told her and poked a nosey head into the living room. “You have an armchair.”

“Be my guest,” she offered and found the cake under a plastic cover. He took the slice of banana loaf and had it eaten before he reached the chair. She offered the plate again.

“Now explain about why I cannot paint my own chairs.”

“If you allow me to advertise them for sale, I can make you enough money to buy your furniture.” She waited and he asked if she had heard of the arts and crafts movement. She shook her head.

“Started in England and America at the end of the nineteenth century. The group wanted to revive the crafts of the past and move away from the factory made goods that were the result of the industrial revolution. The pieces that have survived are collected by enthusiasts.” A pair of matching and unspoilt pieces like those will bring two thousand dollars.”

Miranda choked on her coffee and it splattered out of her mouth in a spray. She continued to cough and he helpfully thumped her on the back. She wiped her face and perched back on the edge of the table.

“Now tell me the truth.”

He took out his cell phone and flicked to a website, found an example like her chair and handed it over. It was there in plain sight. The price asked for on the website was not quite as much as he said but it was identical to the ones in her shed. He took back the phone and flicked to another place.

“My own website,” he said. She took the offered screen and flicked from one page to another. The website was just called Saxon and it had a series of pictures of items for sale.

“So, you really do deal in antiques.”

“When I saw you out in the yard, I was just going to ask directions and then I saw the paintbrush descend on that gem.” Miranda smiled properly at him for the first time.

“I could buy proper chairs if I sold those?”

“You can see if any of the stuff in my workshop is any use to you if you really want painted chairs.”

“I like painted furniture,” she protested.

“So do I when it is done by craftsmen and has survived a couple of hundred years.” He looked pointedly at the banana loaf. She offered it to him again and it disappeared like lightning. “Do you know who owned this place before you?”

“Called Bartlett on the deeds. Never met them because the family asked the real estate people to do everything. They live a long way away.”

“Have you got the deeds? She shook her head.

“Mortgage firm holds them.”

“If you bought the place as it is, then everything on it is yours.” He paused. “Can I look at the other things?”

“Why not?” They walked back to the shed and he held up the lounger.

“Looks most uncomfortable,” she observed.

“Isn’t bad,” he said and sat on it.

“I really don’t like metal things in the house. It always seems so cold.” He gave her a half smile.

“I sort of agree with you there but this is beautifully made and not much younger than the two chairs. Not valuable but some would pay a couple of hundred dollars.”

“Really? Please sell it. I don’t like it at all.”

“So that means you do like the other two,” he came back at her.

“Not because they are worth a lot of money but I am glad about that.”

“In fact, you are sort of right. Lots of antiques were originally painted but it has either worked off or more likely been taken off as fashions changed.”

He looked at the cabinet that was metal and glass.

“This was probably a doctor’s cabinet or maybe a dentist’s.” She looked at him.

“The father of the man who sold this place was a local doctor. In fact, it was called the doctor’s house locally.”

“No? That is good to know. I could even check up and make sure it was his.”  He looked at the set of drawers and told her that it was about the same age but not really worth anything. “I mean it could make a couple pf hundred dollars. It has been left with the original finish and has no damage.”

“Where were you asking directions for?” she asked. He grinned and looked extraordinarily attractive. Miranda reminded herself that she was an independent woman and men were out of the picture.

“The place is called- wait for it- Pixie’s Nixies.” Miranda grinned.

“I can show you where it is and introduce you to Pixie.”

“I hear he is an engineer and might have old lighting for sale.” Miranda saw Pixie in her head but made no comment.

“The place is quite hard to find. You have to squeeze between some houses and down a lane. He is a talented engineer but he makes robots.”

“Oh, dear Lord, not another upcycler.”

“He has two degrees and is a qualified electrician as well as an engineer but he likes…”

“I know- making robots.”  Then he asked if he could take the things from the shed. “If we agree a price, I can do a bank transfer.”

He calculated and offered her fifty for the drawers, fifty for the cabinet, eighty for the lounger and a thousand for the two chairs.

“Two thousand one hundred and eighty dollars.”

“They’re yours,” she said. “If you don’t mind letting me look at the older stuff you have for sale, I can give some of it back to you.”

“Give me a hand to load this in the van and then I will pay the money.”

They took the pieces which were not heavy and put them in the van. He was as good as his word and for once her bank account actually looked healthy.

“If I drive my car and you follow, I will take you to meet Andrew Pickford- Pixie. He was even Pixie at school.” Pixie was a shock to anyone’s system and he did not know that she had come back to her home town.

Chapter 2

He would have missed the turn completely but the little lane led past a high concrete wall and ended in a small industrial estate. She opened the metal door and shouted.

“You in there, Pixie. You got visitors.”

“Why do people come when you are doing something that takes concentration?” a voice replied and then a man in his late twenties came around the metal shelving, rubbing his hands on a cloth. He had  a Mohican, orange haircut, earrings in both ears and tattoos on his forearms. He wore a tee that declared that the planet needed saving and very tight fitting jeans.

“Dear heaven above,” he declared. “ Miranda Montgomery as I live and breathe.” He ran forward quite lightly and enclosed her in a hug that might have transferred oil and engine grease onto her clothes but she hugged him back enthusiastically. Then he saw Saxon. “And who is this gorgeous boy that you have brought to my world of genius? I do like a man with long legs, darling.” He laughed at himself. “So does Miranda.” He held out a hand. “Pixie.”

“Saxon,” the dealer answered. “I hear you have industrial lighting that might be available.”

“I have a few bits and pieces,” Pixie replied. “Walk this way.” He grinned and wiggled his hips as he led the way into the workshop part of his building. He preferred to work out of sight of anyone coming into the place. Saxon looked at Miranda who laughed and held up her hands.

“He’s like this with everybody.” Pixie heard her and stopped dead beside his workbench.

“Before we look for lights and things. Are you back for good?” She sighed and sat on a stool.

“Is there coffee in the pot?” Pixie produced paper cups and poured them all a drink.

“Any sugar?” Saxon asked and shovelled in the three spoonsful.

“I know,” Miranda answered the unspoken question in Pixie’s eyes. “He has nervous energy.”

“Back?” Pixie repeated. She nodded.

“I’ve bought a house down the lane called The Doctor’s House. I finally realised what a fool I was and walked away. He almost persuaded me that I was useless and needed him to survive. Then I caught him reading my messages and just lost it.”

“My darling, I am sooooo glad. We have all worried about you so much and there was nothing we could do. Why did you not come and ask for help?”

“I had to make sure I could do it on my own.”

“What she was doing on her own,” Saxon intervened, “was about to put paint all over an Arts and Crafts small armchair.”

“Really? Did you stop her?”

“He came across like some sort of avenging angel and grabbed my arm. I thought I was being attacked.”

“And so you should be for painting over something like that,” Pixie exclaimed. ”Where on earth did you get an Arts and Crafts armchair?

“It was in the shed. I just thought it was some old junk and I needed a chair.”

“My Lord, Miranda. Where is the chair now?”

“In my van and there was another one. I’ve paid her for them and they are safe.”

“How much did he give you for two of them?” Pixie asked her. She smiled.

“I have a healthy bank balance again and he gave me a thousand for the two.”

“A fair man,” Pixie said and held out a hand to Saxon. “Come and see if there is anything here that you are happy to part with cash for.” He put down his coffee cup and went around the corner of some metal shelving. The other two followed and then Saxon stopped dead. Miranda cannoned into him and they were confronted by a life size robot whose torso was the front of an old car. His head was cleverly constructed from a small and ancient television screen which had two eyes showing and moving on the screen. As Saxon took one step towards it, the robot lifted a hand and made a strange sort of hissing noise.

“My Lord, that is scary,” Miranda exclaimed. “You have added a lot of technical stuff since I left.”

“He almost looks alive,” Saxon added. “It is very clever and very stylish.”

“My favourite word, stylish,” Pixie said and patted himself on the chest. “It doesn’t pay the bills but I like to make them.”

“Where did you get the sort of expanding chrome tools that make the arms?” Saxon was looking at the thing in detail.

“I found a box of tools and parts from an aircraft factory. It was the end of an auction and I only paid five dollars.”

“Don’t tell me I now know two men who like robots,” Miranda left them to it and wandered around behind the shelves to see what he had squirrelled away. She reflected that Saxon had done her a favor by making her meet up with Pixie again.

“I was so scared to come back,” she thought to herself. “I should have known Pix would be his same old self. They were worried about me.” She smiled and reached for a dark green colored metal lampshade.

“Is this what you meant, Saxon?” she called.

“It is,” he said and took it from her. “Is there just the one?” Pixie shook his head.

“Got twenty.”

“Really? All not battered or broken?” Pixie led the way to the shelves and pointed out the other nineteen.

“They came from the hospital when they refurbished.”

“Can I get them all down?” Saxon asked and Pixie found a step ladder and handed them down to the other two. Saxon went into examination mode and Pixie waited for the verdict. “How much?”

Pixie named a price. Saxon offered a lower one and they met in the middle at a compromise.

“They have the original galleries to hang them. I’ll have to give them a clean and a polish.”

“I can rewire them for you,” Pixie offered. “I am a qualified electrician.” The two of them came to another price arrangement and Pixie said he would do them the next day.

Saxon paid for the lamps and Pixie looked at his business card.

“Saxon, the website. I just made the connection. The website looks good.”

“Well thanks,” Saxon replied, took off his cap and ran his hand through the floppy blond hair.  “When the lamps are cleaned and rewired, they will be up there straightaway.”

“If I get anything else in you might like, I’ll give you a call.”

“Have you tried to sell the robots?” Saxon went back to look at the gleaming mechanical creation.

“I do them to order sometimes when people ask for one but I don’t put them up for sale.”

Miranda switched off as they talked robots and then realised that Saxon was asking if she wanted to see the old furniture.

“Yes. I was miles away.”

“But you have come back, darling,” Pixie interrupted, “ and I am so pleased. We will get the gang together.” She gave him her new phone number and then helped carry the gleaming robot to the van.

“Did he buy this?” she panted as they slid it carefully into the van.

“Sale or return,” Pixie told her.  “I’ll call you tomorrow.” The van drove away and Miranda ran to her car to follow.

Saxon’s place was out of town and the sign over the gate proclaimed  ‘Saxon Antiques, Collectibles and Curios’. He drove into a yard that had various pots, pieces of garden furniture and some statues. The door to a barn was half open. Inside was a sudden transformation from the junky look outside to walking into a furnished room. It was warm and colorful with pieces of furniture, ornaments, old signs from the railroad and felt very inviting.

“Oh,” she said.

“Is that a bad oh or a good oh?” he asked.

“Good. I am impressed. It feels sort of right somehow.”

“And you will notice that I do not upcycle things by painting them over.” She walked over to an oak dresser. It was pale in color and she loved it on sight.

He flicked on his cell phone and showed her a picture.

“That was how it looked when it arrived.”

“Good Lord. That is miraculous.”

“It is a lot of work and that is why it now has a high price.” She asked how much and said it could stay where it was.

“You get any lights Sax?” a male voice called and then a man who looked about forty, came from the room at the rear wiping his hands on a rag.” Oh, sorry. Didn’t realise there was a customer.” 

“Well, sort of a customer. Aven de Melcourt meet Miranda Montgomery.” The two shook hands and Aven listened to the shortened version of the encounter with the not painted chair.

“Let’s get them in then,” he said and strode off to the van.

“Aven runs the place for me when I have to be away. He is also a good restorer.”

“And strong” Aven grinned as he carried the chest of drawers singlehandedly.

The old Labrador dog who had followed Aven out came over to say hello. Miranda scratched her ears.

“Aven’s strength is also very useful with certain items we have to move,” Saxon admitted and went to bring the first of the chairs. He added that the dog was called Angie. Miranda went along to help move the chairs and then they added the rest of the pieces.

“These chairs just need a good clean and beeswax and they can go on the website. I’ll call a dealer I know who might want them anyway,” Saxon said.

“What is left wrapped in the blanket?” Aven asked. Saxon beckoned with his finger and they unwrapped the robot.

“Good Lord above,” Aven said and shook his head. “Thank heaven it doesn’t need cleaning. Gives me the creeps.” The gleaming monster robot stood in the showroom and Saxon demonstrated what it looked like with moving eyes and motion activated arm movements. “You do buy some weirdo stuff sometimes.”

“It has something about it though. Couldn’t tell you what but I bet it sells.” He turned to Miranda and asked if she wanted to see the furniture that was in the workshop. They followed Aven into the rear room which was another big barn and filled with all sorts of stuff.

“Some of it will be firewood,” Saxon said, “Some will be restored and some will just be waiting for a clean. Some of it even sells as it is.”

He walked over to a pine dresser.

“This is not oak like the other one but it has the same horrible orange varnish. Takes lots of paint stripper and elbow grease and then bleach and beeswax but it could look really good.” He paused and grimaced. “Or you could just paint it.”

“I guess I could use the paint stripper in the now empty shed,” Miranda said thoughtfully. “Maybe I should give it a go. How much is it?”

“Like this forty dollars. Restored by Aven, seven hundred.” Miranda gasped. “He has to be paid and it takes time.”

“Okay. I’ll give it a go. What about chairs? I have a table.” He led her to another part of the barn where what looked like a mountain of chairs were all jumbled together. There were some set slightly to one side.

“These do not need mending so might be your best bet.”

“Is that a set of four matching?” she asked and he pulled the ones she indicated out.

“Always sit on a chair.” He instructed. She sat and it felt comfortable. She realised Saxon was still talking about the chairs and their backs and stretchers, whatever that was. Aven came over and said it was a decent set of four.

“Ignore the tutorial going on all of the time. He never shuts up.” Miranda grinned.

“I do not,” Saxon said. “I am being helpful.”

“You do remember that I am going off early today?” Aven asked.

“Sorry, I did forget. Just go now, thanks, Aven.” The man grabbed a jacket and patted his pockets for a wallet and keys and then hurried away. “His wife is having a baby.” Then he turned back to the chairs. “With a clean they would match your table quite well.”

“I’ll take them and the dresser,” she said and wandered back into the main store. She picked up a spotted and heavy earthenware jug. “I like that. Add that in as well.”

“Now that is the first sign of good sense you have shown. It is Hungarian and very collectible these days.”

“Look good with lots of foliage in it,” she said. “How much do I owe you?”

She paid with a card and leaned against the dresser where she had stood the jug.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “It shook.”

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