The Genuine Article


Shutterstock / Chris Bain © An auction hammer Illustration: Shutterstock

WRITTEN BY KATHRYN ENGLAND

Be very careful who you trust… especially in the world of high valuations and even higher stakes

The receptionist ushered a man into Emma’s office at the auction house. She stood up and extended a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr Meyer. What can I do for you?”

The man smiled and shook her hand. “Please. Call me Oliver.” He sat down opposite her and produced a small oil painting from his briefcase. “An aunt bequeathed this to me. I’d like your opinion whether I should insure it.”

Emma examined the painting and looked for a signature. Recognising initials in the bottom right-hand corner, she estimated its value to be around five thousand pounds.

“Worth insuring then,” Oliver said.

“Up to you, but yes, I think so.”

Oliver returned the painting to his briefcase, then looked back at her.

“I’ve had a hectic couple of weeks settling my aunt’s affairs so I’m treating myself to dinner at Medallion, the new restaurant in town. I was wondering, would you like to join me?”

The invitation was so unexpected Emma was lost for words.

“Dinner?” she finally said.

He smiled. His teeth were impossibly white and even. “Yes. You know – food, a little wine and maybe some music?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t know you.”

Oliver laughed softly.

“I don’t know you either. But at least we’ve met, which is more than one gets on a dating site. Of course, we’re not dating, it’s just a dinner. But if it’s all too sudden, I completely understand.”

Given more time to process, Emma considered it for a number of reasons: she’d also had a busy week, Oliver Meyer was very easy on the eye, and she’d heard that Medallion’s cuisine was world class.

“All right. Why not.”


The dinner was the first of many. They’d been together for a month, and had returned to Oliver’s flat after a night out, when he took a small ivory tiger figurine from a cabinet and passed it to her.

“I’m sending this to the next auction.” The figurine was about the size of her hand and inlaid with gems. “Could you draw up a valuation certificate for me?”

“Sure. At first glance, I can tell you it would be six figures, high range. Where did you get it?”

“An uncle left it to me in his will.”

Emma’s lips twisted into a wry smile.

An aunt leaves you a valuable painting and an uncle leaves you an even more valuable figurine. You must have been everyone’s favourite nephew.

Returning to the cabinet, Oliver took out another ivory tiger and came back to sit beside her. Except for a detachable collar, the figurines were identical.

Emma raised a questioning eyebrow.

Oliver shrugged. “I know some people who replicate things. The collar is so that I don’t mix them up.”

He detailed an elaborate plan which required Emma to swap the two figurines prior to the auction.

“So when the fake is sold, you’ll receive the money but still retain the original, which I presume you’ll sell privately at a later date,” Emma said.

Oliver nodded. “I’ll … we’ll get paid twice for it.” He kissed Emma’s forehead tenderly. “You’re an integral part of the plan, but you’re also an integral part of my life now. What d’you say?”

Emma looked deeply into his eyes, which glinted with eagerness, as she considered his proposal.

“I guess it would give me the capital to start my own business. I’ve always wanted to own an antique shop.”

“Nothing like working for yourself.”

“If this is all to go smoothly, once I take the figurines to the office, I think we should keep a low profile. Don’t even come to the auction. I’ll call you when it’s over.”

Oliver regarded her with admiration. “You’ve already thought this through.”

Emma squeezed his hand. “I have.”


Emma did not attend the auction. She put her own plan in place.

After informing the auctioneer that the owner had withdrawn the figurine, she resigned, sent a package by courier to Oliver, then boarded a plane. It was years since she’d had a proper holiday, so she was treating herself to a long one.

When the holiday was over, she would use the money she expected to get from the sale of the figurine concealed in her luggage to relocate and open her business. Her years of working at the auction house had led to numerous overseas contacts.

She leaned back and thought about the note she’d included with the figurine – the tiger with the collar – she’d sent to Oliver.

Thanks for a wonderful time. As you can see, this tiger is not the real one. Well, that’s life, I guess. It’s hard to pick the genuine article.


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Allison Hay

I joined the "My Weekly" team thirteen years ago and, more recently, "The People's Friend". I love the variety of topics we cover both online and in the magazines. I manage the digital content for the brands, sharing features and information on the website, social media and in our digital newsletters.