Chapter 5

I decided not to tell Phil and Dex about my possible good fortune. That made me feel guilty, and I compensated by deliberately spending more time with them. Dex had become interested in magic and tried out some simple conjuring tricks on us. For his birthday, Phil received the sequel to the video game and we spent many more hours at his house competitively eviscerating ugly-looking alien invaders.

About six weeks after Dr Wells had sent off the coin, Dad received a phone call from him. Afterwards he approached me with a sombre look. “Dr Wells said that the expert he sent the coin to has been unable to identify it. They want our permission to send it to the world experts on Roman coins, based in Italy. The Italians assure us the coin will be safe, but just in case, it will be insured for a quarter of a million from the moment it leaves the country until its return. Do they have your permission? Dr Wells wants me to call him back.”

I didn’t know what was more surprising, that the coin might be worth far more than Dr Wells’s original estimate, or that Dad was entrusting me to make the decision about something that could be worth a fortune. I had to stop and consider for a few moments. “I think we should give permission. Without authentication, the coin isn’t really worth much, is it! But why are you asking me? You manage the family’s finances.”

“It’s your coin, son. You found it.”

“Still, it’s a big decision. What do you think?”

Dad smiled as though I had just passed some sort of test. “I agree with your reasoning,” he said. “Would you like to call Dr Wells and tell him in person?”

“Much as I’d like to, the museum doesn’t deal with minors. I think you’ll have to be the one to actually give the permission.”

Dad called Dr Wells back and gave permission. At the end of the call he said, “Dr Wells also said that if the coin is valued at anything like the insurance value, the local museum won’t be able to afford it. However the Italians might make an offer for it if it’s rare enough.”

I felt bad about that. I felt the coin belonged in a museum close to where it was found. Perhaps, after valuation and authentication, I could sell the coin to the local museum for whatever it could afford. That was something to bring up in the future.

We told Mum and Janey the news at dinner that evening.

“Great,” said Janey. “I want a pony.”

“Janey,” admonished Mum, “Jon gave you a very nice birthday present using the proceeds of his earlier coin sales, but this coin is his. If the coin’s worth what the Italians are insuring it for, all that money belongs to Jon. For all we know, he might decide to keep it rather than sell it.”

“Sorry Jon,” said Janey ruefully. “But if you do decide to sell, please may I have a pony?”

“And I want a new washing machine,” Mum chipped in.

Dad just shook his head; he wasn’t going to get involved. “Just remember not to tell anyone about Jon’s possible good fortune,” he warned. “He deserves friends who like him for who he is rather than gold-diggers. And sometimes it’s not easy to tell the difference.”

“It is in Jon’s case,” said Janey. “He hasn’t got any friends. Phil and Dex tolerate him but the rest of the world despises him.”

“Janey! Apologise to your brother at once,” insisted Mum.

“Sorry Dork,” said Janey, sticking her tongue out.

I pretended to look out of the window. “What’s that I see? The pony Janey wants galloping off into the distance?”

Janey seemed to glower at me. I countered with smile, but inside I was hurting because, like much of what Janey said, there was a grain of underlying truth. Phil and Dex were the only people I could really call friends.

After dinner, there was nothing on TV that interested me so I retired to my room to read. After a short while there was a knock on the door and Janey came in.

“You do know I wasn’t serious, don’t you?” she asked. “I was just teasing you for our parents’ benefit.”

“It’s okay, it’s just that you hit a bit too close to home.”

“I’m sorry. It hurts to see you so tongue-tied around girls. Perhaps if you stayed home when I brought some of my friends round, you could practise talking to them.”

“Janey, you’re twelve. I’m not going to chat up a bunch of twelve year olds. Besides, I wouldn’t know what to talk to them about.”

“My Little Pony!” said Janey.

We both laughed at that, and the tension between us dissipated.

“Don’t worry about me, Squeak, I’ll be okay,” I said.

“It’s been a while since you called me that. It’s kind of comforting to hear it, even though it’s intended to be derogatory.”

“I’ll make a point of using it at dinner tomorrow.”

“Okay, Dork.” Janey poked her tongue out at me then left me to my book.