pumpkinstrokemarrow

Then, in the course of all this, a rather small and nondescript car pulls up alongside me. Window winds down and driver beckons me over. Smartish looking chap but not posh. He turns out to be an exciteable Italian with a modest command of English, although this was almost certainly better than our mutual command of French. He tries to tell me some story about how he has been very stupido and lost lots of dosh - thousands of pounds - in some casino the night before and cleaned himself out. Started to show me his credit cards to prove some point. Much talk of Milan and important meeting. Run out of petrol for his hire car. Needs a sub.. Then he get out a pair of trousers, still in its plastic bag and which appears to be Versace. He applies the flame from his lighter to the material, a gesture which I could only suppose was some kind of test of authenticity. The flame did not mark the material. Worth hundreds if not thousands of pounds in Bond Street he tells me. Then he gets out a leather jacket from Armani. Same packaging and presentation. Yours, a present he tells me. You do understand? I start to take the bag and then he says 'and you make a present to me of £100'.

Various thoughts at this point. Not all of them after the event. Is he some middle range employee in some corner of the fashion world with access to samples? Has he stolen them? Is shoplifting an option in the sort of shops which are going to sell this stuff? In any event, they are unlikely to fit. How much would I get for them on e-bay? What would the chaps at Bond Street say if I were to pay them a visit? The story is a fancy version of those which have relieved me of folding stuff outside tube stations in the past, my attitude on a good day being that one would not like to deny someone in undeserved need of a helping hand in the form of a £20 note and that that is more important than being conned, even most of the time. So I give him a £20 note and say that should buy him enough petrol to be going on with. Then out comes a second Armani jacket. All three items now going for the same £100. 'Not got it on me' sezzaye. £80. £60. £50. I peer in the wallet and find I only have twenties. I am not going to go to £60 but I do proffer another £20. This is taken but then returned, perhaps because he has decided that that is as far as I am going to go. Content to take the £20 for nothing but not content to take £40 for nothing, honest to that extent at least, so better to go and find another punter who will part with £20 than give up any of his presumably valuable merchandise to me.

End of transaction. I continue on my circumnavigation of Grosvenor Square and he heads off down South Audley Street. A Metropolitan mystery which I need the gray cells of a Poirot to unravel.

Meantime a quick peek at Versace resellers on the net suggests that trousers can be had for maybe $300 - so maybe a £1,000 for these particular trousers a bit ott. A peek at Armani resellers suggests that leather jackets might go for anything between $500 and $1,500. I think I really shall have to wander down Bond Street and get a story from the horse's mouth.