Free Andie's Moon by Linda Newbery Page A

pinned to a board headed Foleyworks, were of finely-wrought silver in the shapes of fish, snakes, moons and twining patterns, some studded with tiny gemstones of turquoise or black. Also on the stand were heavier pieces by other designers – made from bronze, gold or wood, decorated with shells, feathers and many-coloured beads.
    “Oh! I love this – I just love it!” Prune lifted a carved ivory bracelet and slipped her hand through it, turning her wrist this way and that. “I saw one just like this in Honey, with a safari jacket and skirt. Doesn’t it look great?”
    “How much?”
    Prune flipped over the small handwritten price-tag. “Fifteen pounds! But it is real ivory.”
    “No one in their right mind would spend that much on a bracelet ,” Andie said. “Anyway, it’s dead elephant. You wouldn’t wear dead elephant, would you?”
    “No-o.” Prune sounded doubtful, but took off the bracelet and replaced it on the stand.
    They wandered on, Prune to a rack of tie-dye T-shirts, Andie to a stall draped with silky Indian scarves. Prune took ages, dismissing half the clothes, examining others with minute detail, then finally choosing a tiger’s-eye ring from the jewellery stall.
    “Come on!” Andie was impatient. “I’m hungry. Let’s go home and get some lunch.” She looked around for someone to take Prune’s money. There seemed to be only the Jesus-man, who was still standing by the door smoking as if he had nothing else to do. She wasn’t even sure that he worked here; but as they approached, he moved to a cash till on the nearby counter.
    “Just this, please.” Prune took a ten-shilling note out of her purse to pay for the ring.
    The man gave her half-a-crown change, then looked at her searchingly and said, “Just by the way, what about the bangle?”
    Prune’s cheeks flushed red. “What bangle?”
    “The one in your bag. Are you thinking of paying for that as well?”
    “I don’t know what you mean,” Prune stammered.
    Andie looked at her, aghast. She knew Prune well enough to recognize guilt when she saw it. The young man really did look quite a lot like Jesus, or at least how Andie imagined Jesus to look. He had sad hazel eyes that rested reproachfully on Prune’s face, and thin cheeks as if he didn’t get enough to eat. He was even wearing a thin and slightly dirty white kaftan that looked a bit Biblical.
    “Hey,” he said. “I saw you slip that bangle into your bag when you thought no one was looking. I’m not going to get heavy about it. It’s no big deal to me. It’s only money when it comes down to it, and there’s more important things to worry about. It’s your conscience, not mine. Who’s to say a thing belongs to one person rather than another, just ’cos they’ve paid money for it? If you want it that badly, take it – go on. I’m just telling you that I know .”
    Andie was fascinated. Prune, turning ever-brighter scarlet, looked incapable of saying anything at all, so Andie put in, “Actually, if that bangle belongs to anyone, it’s the elephant whose tusks it’s made out of. I don’t see why people should cut off bits of animal to make jewellery, when there’s other things they could just as easily use.”
    The Jesus-man looked at her with interest. “Well, you’ve got a point there. I can dig that. See, I don’t eat animals, or wear animals, or use anything from animals. But hey, who said it was an ivory bangle? I didn’t.”
    “Well, I –” Now it was Andie’s turn to feel her face firing up. He must think she was involved in this. “Why are you selling ivory, then, if you don’t want to use animal stuff? That doesn’t make much sense!”
    “It’s not my shop,” he said pleasantly. “I’m just standing in for a friend who’s gone travelling.”
    Andie couldn’t quite see where the conversation had got to, or how it might end. This young man wasn’t actually asking Prune to turn out her bag, or threatening to call the police. And Prune