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welcome, when he used to come on leave with Conan and Nick.’
    Later the following evening, as they all sat around the large dining table, Matthew Murray told them it had been an enjoyable and worthwhile visit. He beamed at Fiona.
    â€˜You hang on to some of those smaller pieces, young lady, especially the jade and your father’s chess set. By the time you’re as old as I am, I guarantee they’ll be worth four times as much as they are now. I agree it would be easier if you can dispose of some of the large items locally but I will send you a reliable dealer to see the rest. I promise you he’ll offer a fair price. Mind you …’ he turned to smile at Rachel, ‘it’s a long time since I saw anything as rare, or as valuable, as the vase you have sitting on your mantelshelf there.’ He nodded towards the high dining room fireplace. I was having a good look at it while you were bringing in the meal.’
    â€˜My old vase?’ Rachel blinked in surprise.
    â€˜Old vase – well, yes, it’s that all right. I trust you have it insured?’
    â€˜Insured?’ Rachel laughed. ‘Of course not. It was a gift from an old lady of 90 who I knew when I – when I was a girl …’ She looked to Ross at the other end of the table. Those far-off days seemed like another lifetime. ‘It-it was her greatest treasure.’
    â€˜Yes, I can believe that. How did it come into her possession?’
    â€˜The vase had been a wedding gift to her grandmother I think, from the Laird – her employer. She loved the unusual shape and the blue blossom. She knew I liked it too.’
    â€˜Yes, it is unusual and I believe the initials S above the J and F are those of the potter. If I’m right it would be made about 1750 …’
    â€˜As old as that!’ Rachel gasped.
    â€˜If I’m right,’ Mr Murray repeated cautiously. ‘During the war part of the Liverpool city museum was bombed. Among the treasures which were destroyed was a mug with the name Thomas Fazakerley on it. The bright colours used on the mug often appear on Liverpool delft, but there are only photographs now to remind us of what became known as the “Fazakerley palette”, you see.’
    â€˜I-I had no idea …’
    â€˜It is fortunate then that the vase is still in such excellent condition. If ever you want to sell it I suggest you take it, in person, to one of the London auction houses. There is great interest in work attributable to specific potters. Even though money is not so plentiful since the war, there are, at the moment, two wealthy collectors who will go to enormous lengths to secure a desirable piece such as yours. At a guess, I’d say you would get at least a thousand pounds for it – maybe even twice that if there are two collectors bidding against each other.’
    â€˜What?’ Rachel’s eyes and mouth were round with shock. ‘I-I don’t believe it …’ Her face had gone quite pale and the young folk were all staring from her to Mr Murray.
    â€˜A lot of “ifs”, of course.’ He smiled ruefully and broke the tension. They all began to talk at once but Rachel’s mind was travelling back through the years. Minnie Ferguson had taken her under her wing when she was eight years old, after the death of her mother. She had passed on many of her skills until her father had died when she was almost 16. It was then she had gone to live with the Maxwells. She shuddered, recalling Gertrude Maxwell’s bitter resentment at being forced to take her in. She remembered the day she had received the black-edged letter informing her of Minnie’s death, and the news that she had left her the vase.
    â€˜Much good an old thing like that will do you!’ Mistress Maxwell had sneered. ‘A few sovereigns would have been more use.’ Rachel raised her eyes and met Ross’s down the length of the