It was a junk shop, plain and simple. Cracked plates sat cheek by jowl with broken-down lawnmowers and a pretty roll top desk with catastrophic woodworm.
Henry was engaged in a lively discussion with the shop owner about the price of a rather ugly bronze dog, so Susan poked around in the back of the room.
She found the papyrus wedged between a muddy lithograph and a dog eared paperback book.
On impulse, she slipped it into her handbag.
Henry’s dog proved to have been machine made late in the twentieth century. The papyrus sold for two million pounds…
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