Free The Crooked Sixpence by Jennifer Bell Page B

beside her. Its owner seemed to have disappeared, but Ivy saw that it sold
coins
. Hundreds of them – shiny copper, dull silver, six-sided, circular, all stored in little plastic pouches – hung from the metal poles of the canopy. Every face was engraved with a portrait, although Ivy wasn’t familiar with any of the heads on show. She reached down into her reversed pocket and fumbled around for the silver coin. Her fingers tingled as they found it.
    â€˜Can I interest you in anything, little one?’ A head of curly red hair popped up from behind the stall. ‘Maybe a nice tuppence?’ The lady took one of the pouches and pulled out a small copper coin. ‘You can put the image of your sweetheart on it.’ She flipped the coin over several times. With each turn the face changed. ‘Can fit eight different pictures on this one – see? Much better than a common photo frame.’
    Ivy blinked.
Eight different pictures . . . ?
    Just then the crowd started to move. She shook her head shyly at the stallholder and shuffled along. In her pocket, she turned the silver coin over and over between her fingers, thinking.
    The coin is like a photo frame . . .
Which meant that it held pictures of people. Ivy couldn’t remember seeing a face on it before, but at the time she’d been more interested in the words around the edge. She hadn’t bothered to flip the coin over and check it again. She needed to have a second look.
    To her surprise she soon spotted a shop that seemed to be closed – the front windows were empty and the heavy glass door was shut.
Odd
. . . all the others were clearly open. Still, Ivy climbed the three black steps up to the front door. She looked around, checking that no one was watching, before retrieving the coin.
    The portrait engraved on the front was of a hooded face in a tusked mask, most likely that of a man – the jaw was too large and square for a woman. Ivy flipped the coin over several times, but in the gloom she couldn’t make out the other faces. She leaned back, angling the coin to catch the light.
    All of a sudden she slipped and lost her footing. Her head struck the door, and then there was a crack, followed by a long groan as it swung inwards. Ivy tripped over Valian’s jacket and fell head-first into the shop. The coin rolled out of her hand and onto the floor with a loud
thrum
.

Chapter Eleven
    Ivy clambered to her feet, wincing. She wasn’t quick enough to stop the door rattling to behind her. She squeezed her eyes shut, tensing as the sound reverberated around the room. After a moment’s silence she slowly opened them again.
    The shop was empty. Or at least – she corrected herself – empty of people. The small room was filled with row upon row of bells – gleaming brass bells, acorn-shaped wooden ones and stone bells with strange carvings on the side. Ivy had never seen so many different designs. She guessed that she was looking at a lifetime’s worth of collecting.
    She made a hurried search for the silver coin. At the very back of the room, beyond the bells, was a large counter and, behind that, a door. Ivy spotted something glinting on the floor beneath the hinged flap in the counter top.
The coin.
Maybe if she was really quiet, she could just nip over, pick it up and leave without anyone knowing she’d been there.
    She tiptoed slowly into the room, gawping at the array of bells. Each one had its own wooden plaque mounted below it. There were tiny silver sleigh bells and huge brass ship’s bells; bells from pet collars and bells from musical instruments. Some were extremely old. Ivy read one plaque that said ALARM BELL , 1901, but further along she spied a much less familiar WELL-WISHING BELL , 1642 and also a BELL OF TRUTH , 405 AD .
    As Ivy passed, a few of the bells swayed on their hooks and whispered to each other.
    â€˜
Who’s she?
’ one asked.
    â€˜
What’s