The Little Shop of Hidden Treasures Part One: Starting Over by Holly Hepburn (early reader books TXT) 📗

beside them. He beamed at Brodie. ‘Didn’t I say you’d crack the mystery? Let’s see what treasure the box was hiding.’

Hope held her breath as he gently pulled the paper apart. Something sparkled in the light and she craned her neck to see what it was. Mr Young became very still. ‘A treasure indeed,’ he said, his voice soft. ‘Look.’

He held up a silver and gold ring with the biggest emerald Hope had ever seen. The gold had dulled with age but the oval jewel shone brightly under the shop lights, amplified by a cluster of diamonds set in delicate silvery filigree on each side. Will let out a low, appreciative whistle. ‘That’s a beauty.’

‘It certainly is,’ Mr Young said. ‘I wonder how long it’s been in the box.’

‘May I?’ Will asked.

‘Of course,’ Mr Young said, placing the ring in his hands. ‘You’re the expert where jewellery is concerned.’

Will held the ring up to the light and Hope felt the breath catch in her throat at its beauty. Now that she looked closely, she saw that the diamond clusters were wider at the top, thinning and curving into the side of the emerald as they neared the base, like folded wings. Two tiny silver triangles peeped over the top, adding height to the jewel. The effect was breath-taking; she’d never seen anything quite like it.

Will ran a finger across the domed emerald and smiled. ‘It’s a scarab beetle,’ he said, tilting the ring so that it was angled in the light. ‘Look, you can see the shape of the carapace has been carved into the surface of the jewel. The diamonds on either side have been set in platinum to form the legs, neatly tucked into the body.’

Legs, not wings, Hope noted as the gemstones sparkled. And platinum, not silver. Just how valuable a treasure had Brodie discovered?

Will was now squinting at the inside of the golden band of the ring. ‘Unfortunately, there’s no hallmark but the Art Deco style and scarab detail suggest that it was made sometime in the 1920s. Ancient Egypt was a huge influence back then, particularly on jewellery.’

‘Almost a hundred years old,’ Hope murmured and then remembered she was surrounded by a myriad of objects that were considerably older. But none of them were as breath-taking as this.

Mr Young seemed to understand. ‘Everything in the Ever After Emporium has a story but every now and then, we discover something special. I strongly suspect this is one of those times.’

Still holding the now empty puzzle box, Brodie tugged at Will’s trousers. ‘Not now, sweetheart,’ he said absently, studying the ring. ‘It feels like 18 carat gold, and the emerald is probably 10 carats alone.’ He looked at Mr Young. ‘I could clean the whole thing up, verify the quality if you’d like?’

‘That would be wonderful,’ Mr Young said. ‘If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.’

‘It would be an absolute pleasure, believe me,’ Will said, as Brodie began to pull on his arm. He frowned. ‘Wait a minute, please, Brodie. I’m talking.’

Hope caught the look of frustration on the girl’s face; it was the kind of expression she’d seen before on the faces of her nephews and it usually meant an explosion was imminent. While Will and Mr Young continued to discuss the find, Hope bent to Brodie’s level. ‘Is everything okay?’

Brodie glanced upwards, clearly wanting Will’s attention, but since that didn’t seem to be forthcoming, she fixed her blue eyes on Hope and pointed inside the puzzle box. Obediently, Hope peeked inside. And there, folded into a tiny square and flattened against the bottom of the secret compartment, was a flimsy piece of paper.

She straightened up without touching it. ‘There’s something else in the box.’

Both Will and Mr Young stopped their conversation to stare at her.

‘That’s what Brodie is trying to tell you,’ Hope went on. ‘There’s something in the box – it might be some kind of paperwork, a receipt or something.’

‘Well, now. Do you mind if I take a look, Brodie?’ Mr Young asked.

The little girl hesitated for a moment, then nodded and held the puzzle box up for him to take. Using a pair of tweezers, Mr Young slowly teased the paper out.

‘Sadly, it’s not a helpful receipt that tells us everything we want to know,’ he said once he’d unfolded the yellowed and almost translucent sheet. ‘In fact, it’s a letter, date marked nineteen twenty three.’

‘Who is it from?’ Hope asked, wondering if it held a clue to who the ring might have belonged to.

He scanned the letter, his forehead furrowing as he read. ‘Fascinating,’ he said, beckoning Hope forwards so that she could see the letter laid out on the counter. ‘Why don’t you take a look?’

With tentative fingers, Hope turned the paper towards herself and stared at the faded, old-fashioned handwriting.

10th April 1923, York

My dearest K,

I trust that you are well, and that the excavations continue apace. How I envy you for being there! It is hard to believe it has been over a month since I left Egypt – the days have passed so slowly but somehow it is already April.

I have not the faintest idea how I shall write these next words – I know they will break your heart as surely as they break my own. And yet they must be written, for as much as it feels impossible for us to be apart, it is now equally impossible for us to be together. It grieves me sorely but I must therefore end our engagement and return this precious ring to you.

I know you will refuse to accept this but I implore you not to argue. I do not believe I shall ever return to Egypt and you cannot come to England so we must, from this moment on, be as though separated by death. Please know that I will hold you in my heart always and pray that we may meet again in the next life.

Ever yours,

B

Hope’s heart began to thump as she reached the