me.
  I had to admit it looked genuine enough. But there again, was Serge testing me? Seeing how much of a mug I really was?
  'Regine ever think of selling him?' I asked, nonchalantly.
  'Why, you interested in buying him?'
  'I don't know, there's always a possibility.'
  He brought his face up close to mine. 'Maybe if you offered her a good price she might consider it.'
  'Why, how much were you thinking of?'
  'Oh, I don't know⦠maybe she could let him go for a million francs.' (Roughly one hundred thousand pounds sterling.)
  Something in my expression must have struck him as funny because he erupted with laughter, bending over, almost choking on his cigarette smoke.
  He recovered, stood up, pulled out a voluminous linen handkerchief and blew his nose.
  'Money! What good is money? I never seem to be able to hang on to it anyway. The taxman comes chasing after it and people steal it before you get a chance to spend it. We'll just keep Regine's little teddy here in case the family need the cash for a rainy day.'
  He replaced the bear carefully in the cupboard and locked the door. 'I trust you, Johnny. I don't know why. Just forget you ever saw him, OK?'
  We went back outside and the sun was shining, the birds were singing. But I have to admit Regine's supposedly priceless black Steiff teddy bear was uppermost in my mind. I was pretty sure Serge was having a joke at my expense. The black bear was a fake and he'd set up the whole thing to see how much I really knew about antiques.
  When it was time for me to go he insisted I take an armful of his home-made bears.
  'No need to pay anything now,' he said. 'Just give me half of what you sell them for.'
  The eau de vie had hit the spot. My senses were swimming and I tripped a couple of times on the way back to the car.
  'Listen, Johnny,' said Serge. 'What about we make that expedition into the country this week? The one we keep promising ourselves. The weather forecast is good and we'll have a laugh. What do you say?'
  'OK, Serge,' I said. 'Why not?'
  'I'll give you a ring tomorrow and we'll sort it out,' he said.
  Regine and the kids came out to see me off and as I bumped along the dirt track I could see them all in my rear view mirror smiling and waving. The fake bears were bouncing around on the seat next to me and I was wondering just how many other little surprises Serge had hidden up his sleeve for me.
I arrived home in time to find Helen unloading boxes of 'smalls' (bric-a-brac, sadly, not frilly underwear) from our beaten-up Renault. I remembered she had been to an auction in Biarritz.
  'What do you think of this?' she said, pulling out a crystal chandelier. 'Guess how much?'
  'I don't know, about a tenner.'
  'What planet are you living on?' she said, replacing it carefully in the box.
  I was cradling a pair of Serge's faked-up teddy bears, cuddling them close.
  'All right then, what do you think of these?' I asked. 'Sweet or what?'
  'What are they for?'
  'I thought we could sell them. Serge gave them to me. I just have to give him half the profit.'
  'But they're fakes,' she said.
  'Is it that obvious? I thought they were really good, just like the real thing.'
  'Have you been drinking or what?' she said. 'I thought we agreed we weren't going to sell fakes.'
  'So you wouldn't reckon they were genuine Steiff antique teddy bears then?'
  'How much have you had to drink?' She was laughing but I sensed she was genuinely worried.
  'I just had a little taste of eau de vie,' I explained.
  'And the rest! We can't sell these. You'd better give them back to him. I think you've fallen for the classic antique mistake. You think you've found something worth a lot of money, you get swept up in the heat of the moment, you get
  I had to admit it looked genuine enough. But there again, was Serge testing me? Seeing how much of a mug I really was?
  'Regine ever think of selling him?' I asked, nonchalantly.
  'Why, you interested in buying him?'
  'I don't know, there's always a possibility.'
  He brought his face up close to mine. 'Maybe if you offered her a good price she might consider it.'
  'Why, how much were you thinking of?'
  'Oh, I don't know⦠maybe she could let him go for a million francs.' (Roughly one hundred thousand pounds sterling.)
  Something in my expression must have struck him as funny because he erupted with laughter, bending over, almost choking on his cigarette smoke.
  He recovered, stood up, pulled out a voluminous linen handkerchief and blew his nose.
  'Money! What good is money? I never seem to be able to hang on to it anyway. The taxman comes chasing after it and people steal it before you get a chance to spend it. We'll just keep Regine's little teddy here in case the family need the cash for a rainy day.'
  He replaced the bear carefully in the cupboard and locked the door. 'I trust you, Johnny. I don't know why. Just forget you ever saw him, OK?'
  We went back outside and the sun was shining, the birds were singing. But I have to admit Regine's supposedly priceless black Steiff teddy bear was uppermost in my mind. I was pretty sure Serge was having a joke at my expense. The black bear was a fake and he'd set up the whole thing to see how much I really knew about antiques.
  When it was time for me to go he insisted I take an armful of his home-made bears.
  'No need to pay anything now,' he said. 'Just give me half of what you sell them for.'
  The eau de vie had hit the spot. My senses were swimming and I tripped a couple of times on the way back to the car.
  'Listen, Johnny,' said Serge. 'What about we make that expedition into the country this week? The one we keep promising ourselves. The weather forecast is good and we'll have a laugh. What do you say?'
  'OK, Serge,' I said. 'Why not?'
  'I'll give you a ring tomorrow and we'll sort it out,' he said.
  Regine and the kids came out to see me off and as I bumped along the dirt track I could see them all in my rear view mirror smiling and waving. The fake bears were bouncing around on the seat next to me and I was wondering just how many other little surprises Serge had hidden up his sleeve for me.
I arrived home in time to find Helen unloading boxes of 'smalls' (bric-a-brac, sadly, not frilly underwear) from our beaten-up Renault. I remembered she had been to an auction in Biarritz.
  'What do you think of this?' she said, pulling out a crystal chandelier. 'Guess how much?'
  'I don't know, about a tenner.'
  'What planet are you living on?' she said, replacing it carefully in the box.
  I was cradling a pair of Serge's faked-up teddy bears, cuddling them close.
  'All right then, what do you think of these?' I asked. 'Sweet or what?'
  'What are they for?'
  'I thought we could sell them. Serge gave them to me. I just have to give him half the profit.'
  'But they're fakes,' she said.
  'Is it that obvious? I thought they were really good, just like the real thing.'
  'Have you been drinking or what?' she said. 'I thought we agreed we weren't going to sell fakes.'
  'So you wouldn't reckon they were genuine Steiff antique teddy bears then?'
  'How much have you had to drink?' She was laughing but I sensed she was genuinely worried.
  'I just had a little taste of eau de vie,' I explained.
  'And the rest! We can't sell these. You'd better give them back to him. I think you've fallen for the classic antique mistake. You think you've found something worth a lot of money, you get swept up in the heat of the moment, you get
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