Notes: A couple of notes about the references in this chapter – The Antiques Roadshow began airing in the UK in 1979, which is why Max refers to it as being "new". Of course to anyone in the UK these days, the Antiques Roadshow has been on TV for so many years that it's a staple of the BBC. As for ham 'n' pease pudding, this is actually more specifically a North East English lunch, as opposed to the North West, where Badger comes from. But I figured that it'd probably still be something he'd be familiar with, being from the north in general.
It would have been nice to imagine that they could have gotten the black market auctions up and running in London soon after arriving, but nothing was ever that simple. And although none of them had been under the delusion that it would be a quick task, that didn't change their feelings of how tedious the next few weeks were.
Right away Scraps got to work in gathering new goods to sell. Where these came from was beyond Badger's guess, but Scraps seemed satisfied that in this regard the city had more to offer than Misthallery. From experience, Badger knew that a happy Scraps meant smoother sailing for everyone else. It also seemed that he had dropped his earlier suspicions about Umid in regards to Sycamore, so that was one less headache to worry about.
As for the rest of them, while Scraps was away they were left with the task of redecorating the basement for use in the auctions. This had also taken a few weeks to complete, though none of them were exactly thrilled with the end results.
"We have done the best we can with the space we had to work in," Umid optimistically stated, as they stood and looked around the room.
"I just wish we'd 'ad more space to work with at all," sighed Crow.
The main problem was that the basement was small. It was fine enough to be used for its original intention, but when transformed into an auction hall, there was no getting around the fact that it was a massive step down from what they'd had back home. All the same, the Black Ravens had come to London knowing that they were unlikely to get as lucky with a venue as they had done before. This small basement was honestly more than they'd expected to find. And even if it wouldn't house too many people, Badger reckoned they'd done a decent job with the stage and the seating they'd worked on getting in there.
...Or at least he did until Scraps poked his head down the trapdoor to check up on them.
"Is this what you've been doing all the time we've been here?" he commented, "We'll never get a proper auction going in here."
"Do ya 'ave any bettah ideas then?" Crow snapped. His patience was thin.
"Perhaps it is time we all sat down and had a talk about this," suggested Umid, in an attempt to keep the peace.
"Sure, but come out of that hole so I can see you all," Scraps demanded.
On that note he withdrew his head just in time to miss the angry glare Crow shot in his direction. Not that this would have bothered Scraps anyway. And even if he had been sharp about it, the three of them knew that he was right - this basement was never going to be the best place to hold a group meeting anyway. They'd yet to find any source of electricity down here and had resorted to carefully placed torches. While this would make a nice atmosphere for the auctions, it wasn't ideal for sitting around and talking about their plans.
So they climbed out of the basement, pulled the hatch back over it and went through to the living room, where Scraps was waiting. Once they were all sat down, Crow was the one to start them off on their discussion.
"Right now it seems like we've got both enough stock an' a passable place to 'old the auctions," he began.
"I guess I can't argue with 'passable'," snorted Scraps.
"Look, I know it maybe ain't the best, but we were nevah gonna get an auction 'all like the one we've got in Mist'allery, so we just need to work with it for now," Crow countered, "In time 'opefully we can find somethin' bettah."
"Okay, so the basement will have to do," conceded Scraps, "But what's next? Do you seriously think that just inviting people in here without some sort of practise run is a good idea? Especially when Umid's never done anything like this before."
Crow nodded, with a serious look about his face. There was no arguing with this point.
"A practise session would be a good idea," he agreed.
It looked like Scraps was about to speak up again, but he was interrupted by the echoing ring of the doorbell reaching their ears. They didn't get many visitors here, since few people even knew about them, so none of them knew who to expect. Umid was the one who got up to answer it, since this was his house, and the others waited cautiously for him to return.
There was another set of footsteps that joined Umid's in coming back, but it soon became apparent that they had nothing to worry about.
"It's only Max," Crow sighed in relief, "What brings ya 'ere, kid?"
If Max was bothered by being called kid (none of them were sure of his exact age, but he looked only slightly younger than them), he didn't show it. Instead he walked through and placed four Tupperware boxes one the table in front of them.
"Grand prize, courtesy of the Weathered Duke's Hotel's finest chef," he announced.
"Good ol' Mags!" cheered Crow.
None of them wasted much time in grabbing a box and digging in. With everything else that had been going on, none of them had thought much about eating, but with lunch suddenly delivered to them, that all changed. It might just have been ham 'n' pease pudding sandwiches, but they were the best ones that Badger had ever tasted. He wasn't even usually all that bothered about meaty food, but something like this made him think of being back up in the north. And while Manchester might have held a lot of bad memories for him, there was no getting around that the food there had been good. Badger let the nostalgia wash over him as he chewed through the sandwich.
After a brief moment of the group being allowed this bliss, Scraps decided to get them back on track.
"Okay, so practise auction," he reminded, waving half a sandwich around as he spoke, "What are we going to do about it?"
"Auctions? Like the Antique's Roadshow?" asked Max, his eyes alight with interest.
"The what?" Badger said.
"How can you not know about it?" scoffed Max, "It looks like this contestant hasn't done his research. The Antique's Roadshow is a relatively new TV show in which people travel the country looking to sell old antiques they find in their attics. It's not really a game show, but it's still sort of interesting."
"Sounds like a rich toff version of what we do," Scraps grumbled.
"Nah, I don't think so," dismissed Crow. It was hard for any of them to say for sure, since they didn't have a TV and weren't versed in the sort of shows that Max watched; "Our auctions are more... more..." Crow hesitated and then looked at the other Black Ravens, "...Should we even be tellin' Max about this?"
"It's a bit late now, Crowlo," Badger pointed out.
The wide-eyed Max was leaning forward so much that he'd almost fallen off his seat. He was clearly desperate to know what they were referring to. So there was no way that they could claim they'd been talking about nothing at this point.
"Perhaps it is not ideal, but I think that Max could solve one of our problems if you tell him about this," suggested Umid.
"Killin' two birds with one stone," Crow agreed, "Yeah, all right then. Max, 'ow do ya fancy bein' part o' our first test auction?"
"I get to be a contestant on a game show?" gaped Max.
"Um, if ya wanna see it like that, sure," Crow replied.
"Sign me up!" cheered Max.
"That's the attitude I like to see!" Crow complimented, "So let me fill ya in on all this. Wot we're plannin' to do 'ere is 'old auctions where we sell art an' antiques. Nothin' sinistah, but we do like to do it undah the guise o' a black market, 'cause it makes the 'ole thing more excitin' for the puntahs. So we invite only a few people, ones that we deem worthy an' rich enough to take part in our auctions. Me, Badge' an' Scraps 'ave bin doin' this for years, but this is our first time doin' one in London, so we need to practise before we let anyone in for real. Which is where you come in, Max."
Max stayed silent for a while, seeming to digest this information. He was clearly buzzing, so there was no way that he wouldn't agree to it, but this was a lot for him to take in all at once. After the pause, he raised a finger up in the air, as if to ask a question.
"Yeah?" prompted Crow.
"How many contestants do you propose will be playing this game?" Max checked.
Crow thought about this for a moment, then answered, "We ain't too sure yet. Probably less than we're use to, at least while we start out. I guess somewhere between twenty an' thirty people, but even that might be pushin' it."
"All right. So I am to play the part of twenty to thirty people," Max summarised.
"Kind... of? Look, we just need someone to go through the motions o' bein' an audience while we practise wot we plan on doin'," answered Crow.
"Very well, you're on the money with me," assured Max.
Though it would be rude to say it, Badger got the impression that he wasn't the only one who felt uncertain about Max's involvement. But honestly, all he needed to do was sit there and maybe pretend to bid sometimes. There wasn't a lot of room for anything to go wrong.
It seemed that Max was determined to do this as thoroughly as possible though, which was probably for the best. He insisted on going back outside of the door to be let in again when they were ready. Crow simply shrugged and let him get on with it, before disappearing away to pull on the Black Raven outfit.
"I'm doing the lights and atmosphere rubbish, you two deal with our practise boy," Scraps stated, before also heading off into the basement.
Part of Badger wished that he'd been quicker on the uptake, since he definitely preferred being behind the scenes to dealing with people. But at least Umid was there as well and Max was just one person. Even if he was determined not to act like one.
"Welcome to our gracious home," Umid smoothly announced, as he opened the door, "Let us lead you to where tonight's auction shall take place."
"This is a bloody fancy 'ouse! Would yer look at that carpet? I'm scared, I wanna go home! We can't go home, Tommy, we already paid for the taxi here. Don't you forget to wipe your feet, love, wouldn't want to mess up the nice Black Ravens' nest now, would we?" Max acted out, as he walked through. Each statement was done in a completely different voice. It was rather bizarre to hear it all coming from the same person at such a speed, like the weirdest improv script that had ever happened.
"Y-yes, this way," mumbled Umid. He sounded as unnerved as Badger felt, though he did the best he could at keeping calm about it.
As the three of them walked through to the basement's entrance, Max continued to talk as if he was a group of people observing the house. In a strange way, this probably would be how an actual auction crowd would behave, Badger reasoned, he just hadn't been expecting to experience it like this.
"Is that dingy little hole really where we're going, Sonia?" Max asked himself, upon sight of the trapdoor, "Don't be so rude, Bartleby! ...It is very small though. Guess we'll all just have to squeeze through it."
There was no way to tell right now if the other two were confused by Max's babbling, as Scraps was busy working on the lights and Crow was already stood up on the stage they'd managed to make, dressed in full Black Raven gear. The basement was so small that he didn't even have room to make a grand entrance like he would have done in Misthallery. He had to be just there, waiting.
"Welcome to my auction, dear guests," Crow boomed, as Badger pulled the trapdoor shut.
"Who's that scary birdie man and why is it all dark? I'm scared, mammy!" Max wailed.
"Th-there'll be no little kids at the auctions..." Crow stammered, dropping his Black Raven act entirely for a moment.
"All right, I'll revise my act," promised Max.
"Right... so, you are honoured to be the ones we've selected for our first auction 'ere in the great city o' London," Crow went on, now back in Black Raven mode, "There will be many more in future, but I like to think that tonight's will be somethin' special. If my lovely assistant would bring forward the first item."
That was Scraps's cue to make his way onto the stage, now also dressed in costume, albeit one that looked more hastily thrown on than Crow's was. Which was something Badger doubted their leader would approve of, but it would do for this practise session. He placed a small clock onto the table and even without knowing anything about it, Badger could tell that the clock was worth a considerable amount. If this was one example of the wares that Scraps had managed to find here then they at least wouldn't need to worry in that regard.
"Let me tell ya 'ow this is gonna go," Crow said, "We bring tonight's treasure out one at a time, an' give ya the chance to bid on each one. After all the auctions 'ave bin completed, the winnahs will get to go with our 'umble 'ost ovah there an' retrieve their items in exchange for payment." He gestured to Umid as he said this, who gave a small nod; "...Those who sadly did not win any auctions will be escorted out, but 'opefully will return to us to try their luck again anothah day."
"Wait a sec, I can't be both people at once," Max protested.
"Wot do ya mean?" checked Crow.
"I can't be both the winners going to get their prizes and the losers leaving, not at the same time," Max pointed out.
"Well, ya just... look, when we get to that bit just take the role o' the people who didn't win, right? We already 'ave the givin' out goods bit covahed, so we're not gonna practise that," instructed Crow.
In truth it might have been nice to practise this part as well, particularly for Umid, but Max's act had already been draining on them even this far and Badger imagined that by the end of the session they'd just want it to be over with as soon as possible. They could give Umid the run-down on exchanging goods for payment another time.
"Right, so... this clock," Crow reminded, seeming to be struggling to get his own act back on track, "This is a genuine 'ermle clock from Germany, so we'll begin biddin' at £100, which is a bargain to be sure."
Naturally, Max exploded into his act as soon as the bidding began. He jumped around from one chair to the next, almost knocking a few over in the process, pretending to be a different person in each one. It was a sight to behold.
"That would go well in my dining room, I'll raise the bid to £125! ...Not on your Nelly, £150! H-hold on now, are you all mad? There's no way we should be bidding on this before we know if it's genuine! I demand to see the manufacturer's print! Well, don't bid if you're so cautious about it, but I refuse to miss out because of your pig-headedness, so I'm raising my bid to £175. If you think you'll steal this clock away from a mastermind like me, then you're sorely mistaken – I call £200 and not a penny less!" Max reeled off, barely stopping to take a breath.
For this first item, Crow just let him get on with it. He didn't even need to say anything until the fake bidding began to wind down, since Max seemed to have it covered.
After that, it appeared that maybe Max had gotten tired of his one-man show. It must be exhausting to keep up, after all. Because for the next trinket that was brought forward he seemed much less interested in the bidding. Though it soon became apparent that this was only because he'd shifted gears into playing the part of a more difficult audience.
"I can't believe he's starting the bidding at £50," Max yawned, "It's obvious this isn't worth that much."
"Oi, I'll 'ave ya know this is silvah plated!" argued Crow, unprofessionally, "That price would be a steal!"
"Play another song, piano man. I tire of this one," Max droned.
"Right... um, yes, I'll lowah the startin' price to £40, but any lowah than that an' I'll 'ave to take this one away for anothah day," Crow weakly debated, "I need to meet my clients' reserve prices, aftah all."
In the end, the piece that Max had been difficult about still sold for £170, which was actually impressive, considering how much Crow had to fight to keep this round alive. If nothing else, this certainly was good practise for him to get back into the swing of things.
For each lot, Max played the part of a different audience, throwing anything they might encounter at them. It was an intense time, but eventually even Crow had to wear thin of it all. He slyly signalled for Scraps to stop bringing items forward after about an hour, which Badger couldn't blame him for. It was impossible to tell how Scraps was feeling because of the mask, but Badger reckoned that he was enjoying this and would have kept bringing more goods forward until either Crow told him to stop or he ran out of goods to give. It was maybe for the best that the former had been the one to happen, since Badger didn't fancy being here all evening with this.
"Thank you so much to our... imaginative guests this evenin'," Crow concluded, holding his hands out, "This 'as bin an interestin' look at to all o' the many people London 'as to offah. The Black Raven will be glad to extend 'is welcome to ya anothah time. But for today, would those who won any lots, follow my friend on the right to where they'll receive their new belongin's and those who didn't, follow my friend on the left back to the entrance. I bid ya all a very good night."
Max pulled himself up. The chair scraped noisily under his feet as he did.
"So I'm following Badger, yeah?" he checked.
"That's right. Badge' will lead ya to the door an' then we're done with this for today," Crow confirmed, "Aftah that ya can do wot ya like – stay 'ere with us for a while or go 'ome."
Whatever Max wanted to do once this was over, he didn't make clear. Right now he was far too engrossed in his act. Badger walked over to pull up the trapdoor, keen to get this all finished as soon as possible, but before he could head up to escort Max to the door, he was shoved aside.
"Badge'! Are ya all right?"
Crow was at his side before Badger was sure exactly what had happened. Badger felt him put his arm around him, though his face was still hidden by the mask.
"I'm fine," mumbled Badger, "But what were that?"
From above them there was a loud crash. Umid bolted up and out of the trapdoor, soon to be followed by Badger, Crow and Scraps. It was too late that it dawned on Badger that the person who pushed him must have been Max.
"The vase! Th-that belongs to Professor Sycamore!" cried Umid, "What is the Phoenix's feathers did you think you were doing?"
Badger didn't know what Umid meant by phoenix feathers, but he could see the scene in front of him easily enough. One of the many ornaments that had been left in the house by its previous occupant lay shattered on the floor.
"I'm a crowd of people in a tiny hallway, you can't expect me not to knock things over," Max pointed out. Then his expression changed to one of remorse, "I'm s-so sorry... it was an accident! Quick Nigie, we better get out of here before we get in trouble!"
"No, wait!" Crow called.
But it was already too late. Max turned and shot down the corridor, not exactly being careful where he was running. It wasn't that he was purposely trying to knock things over, but anything that got even a little in the way ran the risk of being upset by his journey. The other four gave chase, but although most of them were probably faster than Max, they had the disadvantage of not being prepared for any of this.
Before they could do anything about it, there was a loud smack. The next thing they knew Max was slumped over in front of the door sobbing. None of them could say at this stage if it was genuine or not.
"You all right, Max...?" Crow whispered, nervously walking closer.
Max rolled over to face them. Large, angry tears were falling from his eyes.
"No... I want Becky! Why isn't Becky here? I want... I want..."
Whatever else he was going to say didn't make it out of his mouth as he made way for more sobbing. With that he curled up in a ball and began to rock himself.
"I'm going to get Becky," Umid stated.
There was no room for argument, but none of them wanted to. They all let Umid through, trying not to pay too much attention to the small mark that Max had left on the door with his impact. Once Umid had headed off, the remaining three crouched down next to Max, trying to help him through whatever was happening right now. They did after a while manage to get the crying to calm into sniffles, though that might have had more to do with Max being tired than anything else.
It took a while for Umid to return with Becky, but as soon as the two of them got inside Becky went straight over to Max and cradled him in her arms. He clung onto her, in that moment looking much younger than he actually was, and rested his head against her. She hummed soothingly to Max, like a mother would do, until he seemed to calm.
"We're so sorry," Crow said to Becky, "We didn't expect any o' this."
Becky sighed and nodded. For once she didn't look angry at Crow, just worried and concerned.
"Tell me what happened," she instructed.
Crow did exactly that. Any other day they might have been unsure about letting Becky in on the Black Raven secret, considering how disapproving she had seemed of Crow's thieving, but their actions today had some sort of severe effect on Max, so she needed to know. Crow explained to her, first about them, then about the practise auction and what had happened to Max. Throughout his explanation Becky listened, but when it was over she also had something to say.
"What you did to Max today... it wasn't wrong, but I wish you'd checked with me first," she started, "He would have enjoyed himself and I'm always happy when anyone will let Max join in with them like that, not a lot of people do... But sometimes things can go too far..."
"We are sorry that this went too far," Umid insisted.
"Look, Max is a good person and I wouldn't want any of this to scare you off from him," Becky went on, "But if you're going to do anything like this then use your common sense and talk to me about it first, all right?"
"We will," Crow assured, "An' don't worry, we ain't gonna think o' Max differently aftah today. To be honest, I reckon 'e did a good job teachin' us wot to expect."
Max turned his head back towards them again. He sniffed loudly one more time, then smiled up at Crow.
"What do ya say, Max? You an' Becky fancy bein' 'onourary membahs o' the Black Ravens?" offered Crow.
"I literally just finished training up Tony..." muttered Scraps. Badger elbowed him in the side.
"We'll think about it..." whispered Max, for once sounding neither like a game show host nor any other character in his arsenal of acts. Just someone who was very tired, "But right now I just want to go back home."
"That sounds good to me," agreed Becky. She helped him to stand up and then looked back at the others; "Wash those Tupperware boxes before you return them."
"Yes ma'am!" chimed Crow, with a salute.
"And... thank you for coming to get me," Becky concluded, "Come on Max, let's get you back to the hotel. Your shows will be starting soon."
The two of them made their way out of the house, with Umid going with them to make sure they had a safe journey back. With the door shut behind them it was like a tension was lifted from the room.
Crow turned to Badger and Scraps; "Wot 'appened today was entirely our fault. I don't want anyone to blame Max for this."
"Ah'reet," Badger replied.
"I'm not blaming him at all," Scraps hummed, "To the contrary, his trail of damage made a very good point and one that I've been worried about for a while – that this place is too small. We can't hold auctions in that basement without something going wrong."
"But what else can we do? Crow alreadeh said that we're lucky to even 'ave this much," Badger reminded.
They both looked across at Crow. He was frowning over at the smashed vase further back down the hallway and seemed to be forming a plan in his head. After a moment, he glanced back at the other two with renewed confidence.
"If this place ain't big enough an' this is the only place we've got, then we 'afta make it biggah. Simple as that," he decided.
"How exactly do you suppose we do that?" Scraps snorted.
"In any way we can. We'll get construction workahs in 'ere if we need to," Crow replied.
"And pay them with what?" argued Scraps, "In case you haven't realised, we can't make money without auctions. And we can't do auctions without an auction hall. The only reason we haven't starved to death already is because of the kindness of your hotel friends and whatever stash of money that Umid seems to have stuffed away somewhere. We can't afford to pay construction workers."
Crow smirked wicked.
"All right, ya got me there. But who says we need to pay them if instead we could just... borrow their tools."
