I looked inside at the jumble of pieces and not a one offered any colour, just a greyish, grimy finish, but that didn't matter, because I took one look and knew those pieces were hand cut.
"How much?" I asked, trying not to sound too excited.
The man looked at me, I stared back at him, and then he smiled.
"For you, Miss, £20."
I glanced around, there was no sign of a credit card machine, a lot of these businesses were cash only, but I had not come prepared today. I pulled out my purse and began searching its contents. I had a £10 note, which I placed on the counter and then I tipped out the collection of coins. I would have begun counting, but my seller looked down, nodded, put the box down on the counter and then swept the money off it.
"Done," he replied.
I smiled, he smiled, and I picked up my box.
~~~
I practically ran the rest of the way home and slid in front of my puzzle desk as the door slammed behind me. Spilsbury jumped onto the table beside the slope and mewed a greeting, but I was too intent on opening my prize. I slid back the lid, biting my lip when it stuck. A little jiggle and it was free again and then there they were, the oldest puzzle pieces I had ever seen. Heart hammering, I tipped a few of the hundreds of tiny pieces out gently onto the felt board and stretched out my fingers towards them.
Before I could touch, however, Spilsbury let out a blood-curdling yowl and leapt across the board. A dozen or so pieces scattered off the table. I screamed at the cat, who had already hightailed it into my bedroom, and dropped to my knees, reaching blindly in the gloom under the table for the fallen cut-outs. It felt like forever before I found one, but as my fingers snatched it up, my excitement was like electricity running up my arm. I shivered and laughed and held the piece close in my fist, bringing my hand in to my chest as well and I just
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