CHAPTER FIVE 



MARKET WHIMSIES 



THE first thing that puzzled him - and it never ceased to be a sub- 

 ject for wonderment - was the way fish were priced. It seemed 

 haphazard and was unfair. And it was all done like a ritualistic 

 dance, almost without words, to a chorus of screaming birds, 

 squeaking trolleys and hooting ships. 



A plump man in gum boots initiated the ceremony. After a stroll 

 through the length of the market he would end up where he began 

 on the first row of boxes at half past seven in the morning. A 

 couple of wholesalers might wander over to speak to him. They 

 would be joined by a few of their friends — a knot of male gossips. 

 But the man in gum boots would retire, more and more removed 

 from the crowd as the crowd grew larger; until, by about eight 

 o'clock, he would be left standing in a contemplative solitude in 

 the centre of a solid circle of perhaps a hundred buyers. He 

 would then step on top of a box filled with fish. His eyes would 

 travel round the circle. The buyers would go on talking among 

 themselves. The auctioneer's right fist would come down on his 

 left hand and he would move on to another row of boxes. The 

 knot of men followed, still talking to one another, almost ignor- 

 ing his existence. Yet, behind them now, a little man or, some- 

 times, a boy vv^ould run down the deserted row of fish and affix 

 labels. Piebald, Aquatrink, Piscator, J. Bromley, to each of the 

 boxes. When, and how, the contents had actually been bought 

 remained uncertain. By what slight signs the wholesalers made 

 their offers Jan never discovered. All he knew was that the auc- 



5^ 



