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It was a terrible mistake to sell our furniture when we moved to India. Of course I had not anticipated returning to England so soon. If I had I should have had our things put into storage. As it is I spent today desperately trying to purchase some furniture for the flat at Marina Villas as it is completely unfurnished. This was no easy task as there seems to be no furniture available in the town, or indeed out of it. Even the basics - a bed, table, chairs and settee seem near impossible to find.
I tried one or two furniture stores in Walmington and wondered how they could remain in business such was the lack of stock. I did manage to find four rather disagreeable cane-backed chairs at one which I purchased on the spot - at least I shall be able to sit down. Having exhausted Walmington's possibilities I bussed into Eastbourne and tried there.
Although Eastbourne has more stores the lack of available furniture is much the same. The only beds to be found were second-hand and in every case the mattresses were downright unhealthy - one instance looking as though it had been rescued from a bomb site and simply given a wipe-down with a damp rag. I was forced to decline all such offerings, although I was able to find a small kitchen table which will just accommodate the cane chairs.
Rather wearily I returned to Walmington with the not inconsiderable challenge of finding a bed and settee. I decided to start a little smaller and to seek out some linen - if I cannot find a bed I must at least have sheets, blankets and pillows. To this end I returned to the High Street and my eye was drawn to the sign above Walker's new shop: 'off-ration scarcities and high class dry-goods a speciality'.
Walker always had a remarkable ability to get his hands on items that were, elsewhere, completely unobtainable. However it was always a matter of deep concern to me as to where he obtained his supplies. Whenever I purchased from him I always feared that I might be handling stolen goods. Once our connection through the Home Guard was broken I considered it unwise to have anything more to do with Walker. However the situation was becoming desperate and so I ventured into his shop.
The scene that greeted me was not at all what I had expected. Most shops nowadays have a rather bare aspect. However in this instance there was a complete absence of anything - except Walker himself seated behind a desk constructed from packing cases concentrating hard on what appeared to be a ledger - which on sighting me he snapped shut and quickly covered with a copy of the Racing Post.
He did not seem in the least surprised to see me - nor did he make any reference to the fact that six years previously he had, to all intents and purposes, deserted from the Home Guard. He simply took his cigarette from his mouth and muttered at me from the side of his mouth:
'ere, Mr Mainwaring, d'you want to buy a nice little motor. Ex-army staff car, used by Monty in Africa?'
The man must think I'm a complete fool. If I had not been so badly in need of furniture I should have walked out there and then. As it was I replied as icily as I could that I did not, and went on to make some cutting remarks about his sudden disappearance from Walmington in '42.
At this he adopted an air of wounded pride, as though the whole event had been against he wishes and beyond his control - which I doubt. He went on to infer that he had spent the second half of the war serving his country in various capacities which even now he could not reveal due to his commitments under the Official Secrets Act. Personally I suspect his obligations were to His Majesty's Inspectorate of Prisons and discharged in the mailroom of Brixton prison. In my view they should never had got rid of the treadmill.
However as I was in need of Walkers help I was obliged to keep these thoughts to myself. So I quickly changed the subject and enquired, in a roundabout kind of way, where a person might be able to buy a quality bedding in Walmington. At this he looked very grave and informed me that linen is very scarce, but that he just might have the very thing in stock.
So saying he carefully (and rather pointlessly in my view) closed and locked the shop door and surreptitiously led me through the back and into the alley to the rear. Then through a winding succession of ill-lit paths and alleyways until we emerged in a location which I recognised as Slope Alley. There he unlocked the door of his premises. Having spent the day in a succession of near-empty shops Walker's store house, if such it was, came as something of a shock. It was stacked from floor to ceiling with all manner of goods that ordinarily are unobtainable. Cases of wine, crates of beer, bottles of whisky, brandy, gin and rum were stacked against one wall. The opposite wall had floor to ceiling shelving full of boxes labelled: nylons, elastic, knobs - brass, etc. On the floor stood various tea chests and it was from one of these that, with a flourish, he produced an armful of crisp white linen - a complete set including pillowcases. It was good quality, too. We haggled a little over price and before we concluded the transaction he startled me by saying:
'course you can have it at a discount if you buy the bed to go with it.'
So saying he led me further back into the darker recesses of his store room and there showed me an ancient Victorian bed with a heavy cast iron frame, heavily sprung and a head with a pair of enormous brass knobs. It was clearly second-hand if not antique, and the mattress was stuffed with horse-hair which had sagged badly on the middle. However it was clean and serviceable. And given the difficulty in finding anything else I agreed his terms and arranged delivery for Saturday. By what means it will arrive I shudder to think. I don't wish my new neighbours to mark me down as a shady character from the outset, but its a risk I must take if I'm to avoid sleeping on the bare boards.
So at the end of a long exhausting day I am soon to be the possessor of a table, four tatty chairs and a Victorian bedstead. Wells that's not bad I suppose.
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