He recalled their first meeting in a night club. Norman had looked so out of place. Peter couldn’t resist it.
“What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” he asked with a smile.
Norman looked round and gave a little grin. “I’m not sure. I feel a bit out of my depth if I’m being honest. I’m new to all of this. I didn’t know what to expect and I’m wondering if this is really for me.”
“I know what you mean,” said Peter. “I was thinking the same. Look, there is a nice quiet pub not far from here. If you like we could go and have a drink without all the noise?”
Norman paused for a minute wondering if he could trust this stranger. Then thought ‘why not?’ He had to make a new start somewhere and it was the reason he had come here in the first place.
“Yes. I think I would like that,” he said, as he put on his coat.
As they sat at a small table in the corner of the pub, Norman explained about his marriage and about finally realising he was gay. Peter listened in a way nobody had done before and seemed to understand.
Peter had known he was gay since the age of twelve. Norman, on the other hand, had been a married man for fifteen years. It wasn't until he saw an article in the agony aunt column of a national newspaper of another man in the same situation he fully realised he was gay.
He had tried to be a good husband but deep down inside he had known there was something wrong. His parents had been very strict and regular churchgoers. He and his wife never had children and he knew she had always wondered why he didn't seem interested in her in a sexual way but she never suspected the real reason. It was only when he watched his first gay videos he realised he was more sexually attracted to men than women.
Their divorce had been quick and easy and they were still on reasonably good terms although Helen could never believe Norman didn't know he was gay for all of those years.
Now he finally understood what his body had been trying to tell him but he had chosen to ignore.
“It feels good to finally be able to talk to someone,” he said, putting down his half-empty glass of wine. My wife never believed me when I told her I didn’t realise that I was gay.”
Peter nodded. “My parents for all their faults were very supportive, so I guess I was lucky.”
Within three months Norman had moved into Peter’s apartment and they were sharing the same bed.
After getting over the shock of losing both parents, Peter soon realised his ambition of becoming wealthy would not be the result of running the so-called Antiques shop. And all the ‘dodgy deals’ he had tried had so far come to nothing.
Chapter Five
2014 TO 2016 - ANTIQUE FAIRS
In October 2013, with his ‘Hong Kong Scam’ coming to an end, Peter Moore decided a new image might help improve his fortunes so he applied to change his name by deed poll to the more upmarket title of Peter Winston-Moore. By January 2014, he had received a passport and credit cards in his new name. Yes, 2014 was definitely going to be the turning point.
Reading the latest issue of Antiques Trade Gazette, Peter came across an advert offering stalls for rent at an antiques fair being held in Hertfordshire. He contacted the organiser and booked a stall, paying the £100 with his new ‘Peter Winston-Moore’ credit card.
Two weeks later, Peter found himself standing in a large hall in Hertford along with fifty other antique dealers. The event proved to be financially successful. It wasn’t going to make his fortune but at least he was making enough to pay the bills while he continued his search for that one good idea. As far as Peter was concerned, this was just the next stepping stone. Deep down inside he felt sure he would become rich. It was just a matter of time.
For the fair he took five of the Hong Kong copies and mixed them in with a handful of paintings he had purchased at various auctions. When people came to his stall he pretended to act dumb and not know anything about the paintings, telling potential buyers he was there in place of a friend who was sick and hadn’t really told him prices. He knew some people would take a photo of a painting they thought might be valuable on their phone and then Google it and then buy it thinking it was valuable. The prices he sold them for didn’t match what he had managed to get at auction but he usually more than tripled his money.
At each event he would wander round and see what the other stallholders had to offer. Some were friendly and prepared to do him a good deal on the rare occasion he found a painting that the dealer had undervalued, but these were few and far between. Most traders found it hard to find good quality items.
The ‘success’ of his first venture into antique fairs meant every weekend Peter would be trudging up and down the motorways to virtually every town or city within 200 miles, buying and selling paintings at art and antique fairs.
Some of the fairs were better organised than others, so after his costs Peter could usually expect to come away with a profit of between £300 and £600. His best to date had been £790. It wasn’t going to make his fortune but it was enough to get by.
And all
