Sterling

I first met him in the “Eagle and Child”. It's been pulled down now. It was in Mabel Street in South Exton, where the new industrial estate is now. At least the old “Bird and Baby” didn't get gentrified out of its true character.

That's what the regulars called it, “the Bird and Baby.” He told me.

“If you're interested in old pubs and how they got their names then you'll need to know what their real names are, what the regulars call them,” he said. “You think you're in the “Eagle and Child”, right?”

I nodded. If I spoke it would break the spell.
“What's that all about then? You don't see a lot of eagles here in South Exton, nor anywhere else in the town for that matter. Plenty of babies, of course, but eagles, no way Pedro. Probably not too many round here would know an eagle if they did see one. No, to us, us residents, its just a bird and baby on the sign there. And that's what we call the place.”

“Oh, right, thanks,” I replied weakly.
This was just after I declined his offer. “A great little watch, retails at a hundred and forty-nine, you can have it for thirty-nine,” he said waving it in my face. No preliminaries, no introduction. Straight out with the pitch. It rocked me back.
He looked crestfallen at my refusal. Feeling guilty, I asked, “Can I get you a drink?”

He brightened, almost to incandescence. “Very handsome. A whiskey would be very acceptable, thank you.”

It wasn't quite what I'd expected. I turned to the bar and ordered his whiskey and another pint for myself. When I turned back, the drinks in my hand he was nowhere to be seen. I stared around the room. He'd disappeared. There was a minor confrontation at the door connecting to the lounge, some harsh tones, a bark or two, then some laughter, verging on hysterical and moments later he reappeared, backing into the room, waving his fist. He turned, saw me and made a beeline to where I stood, glasses in hand. He tugged at his lapels. “Thought I saw a man I know there. I was wrong. Now where were we?” I held his whiskey out to him. “Thanks. Oh, a single. I really prefer a double, still,” he shrugged, “never mind. Your health.” He raised the glass and gave me a mocking smile.

He asked what brought me to the pub. “I know you're not a regular. You don't look the usual class of passing trade.” He looked me up and down. “We don't see may suits in here. Except mine, of course,” he added, ironically.

I explained. “I'm in town for an interview at the university. They put me up overnight in the town centre but I like to get the real feel of the places I visit. I took a walk out and happened on this place. Another of my interests is old pub names so when I saw “The Eagle and Child”, how could I resist?”

That's when he told me about the “Bird and Baby”. Then he apologised for trying to sell me the watch. “It was the suit that did it. I thought you must be some passing tourist, fair game for anyone with a tale to tell and sale to offer. I couldn't pass up the chance.”

I excused him and finished the last of my drink “Pint?” he volunteered, “to show there's no hard feelings.”

I nodded. He went to the bar. When he returned he had my pint and one for himself. Seeing me glance at his glass he grinned, sheepish, “Chaser for a whiskey. I drank the whiskey.” Later I worked out it was the whiskey I had bought that he was chasing. At the time I nodded, smiled, said “Cheers,” and lifted my glass.

We talked then about why was I being interviewed, did I think I'd accept the post if they offered it, did I have ideas about where to live if I got the post, was there a lady in the case.

When I admitted there was indeed a lady in the case he became most solicitous about my possible housing choices. Then he asked, “What will she be doing while you're in here?”

“I expect she'll be preparing her lecture for tomorrow.”

“Ah, She's in the business too, then.”
“Certainly,” I agreed.

“I expect she's expecting a little present when you get back? Something to make up for being left behind.” He emptied his glass.

I was taken aback. I'd never thought about this before. We were often apart, lectures, symposiums, conferences. I couldn't remember that we ever brought each other a gift back. I shrugged and offered him another drink, taking care to specify a pint.

He smiled broadly. “A whiskey chaser would be good.” I went to the bar.

When I came back with my pint and his drinks he'd been joined by a younger man. This man was not wearing a suit but was clearly wearing his best, clean, tight-fitting jeans, a pale coloured shirt, open at the neck, and a fawn coloured jacket.
“This is Joseph, my nephew,” said my new acquaintance. “Joseph can help you out in the gift department.” Seeing my momentary look of puzzlement he reminded me, “For the lady. The one at home, remember?”

“Right.” I was hesitant. “So what can Joseph do?”
“He can supply you the most exquisite pair of earrings you have ever set eyes on.” He turned to Joseph. He held out his hands. Joseph pulled his hand from the pocket of the jacket. In his palm nestled a beautiful pair of earrings, silver disks engraved, or etched, with a design that I took to be Celtic. They looked just the thing Roisin would love. I looked direct at him, “This isn't another thing like the watch?”

He stepped back, affronted. “This isn't something I deal in. This is Joseph's business. I didn't know he was in tonight. When I saw him I thought of you. If you don't trust me then OK.” He shrugged, he looked hurt, he turned away. Joseph started to put the earrings back in his pocket.
“No wait. You can see why I might be a bit unsure. Let me see them again.” Joseph held his hand out. Bright lights fell on the silver. Points of light danced in my eyes. We'd never had bought each other gifts from our trips but that didn't mean I couldn't start. If I got the post it could be for a celebration. If I didn't get it then she had a birthday coming up. What was the harm?

“How much?” I asked Joseph.

My new acquaintance said, “Forty-five pounds.”
That took me aback. He must have seen that in my face.

“They're silver, sterling. Exquisite workmanship. One of a kind. You have to pay for that quality of work, I'm sure you can see that.”

I nodded, sagely. I swallowed. “I'll take them.” I counted out the notes into his hand. Joseph had slipped away. I put the earrings into my pocket.
“I'll have to be going,” he said. “Let me set you up a drink before I go. And if you get the job be sure and come back in here. I'm in here a lot. I'd be glad to meet you.” He went to the bar and returned with a pint for me. He set it down without a word, touched his index finger to his forehead in a farewell salute and walked away.

I wasn't offered the post. When I produced the earrings for a birthday present Roisin smiled happily. “You crazy boy. These are the same as the pair I bought from the market barrow last year, just after you'd been for that interview. Still, I think I've lost one so it's good to have a spare and I don't suppose they would have sold you just one. How did you know?”

I did remember that she'd bought a pair like these. She borrowed a fiver from me to pay for them. And she gave me the one pound and a penny change. But what else would I do with a pair of earrings?