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The Bouquiniste

A Story Every Day in 2024 24th July 206/366

By Rachel DeemingPublished 2 years ago 2 min read
The Bouquiniste
Photo by Gülfer ERGİN on Unsplash

"Going once...going twice...I'm selling at 10,000 to the gentleman in white...at 10,000 pounds....sold!"

And the gavel came down as the Bouquiniste let out his sigh of relief. Monty preferred this title to "second-hand bookseller". French always lent something more prestige: patissier/pastry chef; maître d'/bloke who greets you at the door; the list could go on and on. The title, bouquiniste had ties to the famous booksellers on the Seine and although he had no French lineage that he knew of, his surname being Dobbs, (perhaps that should be Daubés?), he knew his trade just as well.

He had just bagged himself a book that he had been seeking for years: a first edition by famed reclusive author Madeleine Morse, one of only four copies known to exist, the others now in museums. He should sell it on, at a profit, of course, but didn't think he could allow this one to go. It was so exquisitely rare, he coveted it for himself.

Unfortunately, a dilemma was to present itself that was to put the ownership of his book in jeopardy.

*

"I'm in debt," Portia said, over lunch at "The Ivy". Monty liked it here; it fit with his image, he thought, but Portia was so extravagant when they met, seeing her old man as a cash cow.

And here we were again.

"What is it now? Credit cards?"

He peered at her over his half moon spectacles.

"Worse. Money lender."

Monty had to stop himself from spitting out his small swig of wine in shock.

"What?"

Portia burst into tears. "I knew you wouldn't understand!"

Monty hated open shows of emotion. Ah, if only he didn't feel so guilty for being such a terrible father, he wouldn't have to suffer like this.

"How much?"

The tears stopped quickly and Portia said "11,000 pounds."

Monty gulped.

*

"And so, I was faced with selling my book or saving my daughter," he told his therapist later that week, as he sat opposite him, holding a messenger bag.

"So, what did you choose?" The therapist enquired.

And Monty reached into the bag and produced the only remaining privately owned first edition by Madeleine Morse of "The Selfish Parent".

***

366 words

Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this, please do leave a comment as I love to interact with my readers.

206/366

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About the Creator

Rachel Deeming

Storyteller. Poet. Reviewer. Traveller.

I love to write. Check me out in the many places where I pop up:

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Comments (3)

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  • John Coxabout a year ago

    What an incredible and ironic twist! Great story telling, Rachel!

  • Caroline Craven2 years ago

    Good on Monty. She sounds so precocious!

  • Monty did the right thing hahahahahahaha

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