The Gift Room Read online

  Alexander and Mr Clarkson exchanged looks for a moment and then he walked across the car park and clicked the key of his car as he approached it, so he could open the driver’s door and get it.

  Before starting the car Alexander took out his phone and sent a quick text to his wife:

  “Meeting finished in Exeter, went very well, on my way home to my family. Love you all very much. xxx”

  CHAPTER 10

  It was a lovely summer’s day. There was not a cloud in the clear blue sky in Devon. It had been some three years since Alexander had last been in the churchyard in Godfrey St John. Now he and Julia were sitting on a still new-looking teak bench in the lea of the church, which afforded them some protection from the brisk breeze that was clearly rushing off the south coast not that many miles away. The bench looked out over the gravestones of his sister and parents, and carried a discreet plaque that read:

  In memory of the Talbot Family

  Alexander had agreed to the wording soon after his last visit to the place. He had not returned for the funeral. He had kept himself informed of matters through Peter Clarkson, who had subsequently retired a year or so later. Alexander had kept a letter he had received from Brian, the vicar, which had been sent via the solicitor’s office a few months after his 24-hour visit to Devon.

  Dear Alexander,

  I am shortly to retire as vicar of Godfrey St John. I did mention that the event was looming somewhat large on the horizon when we met at your parents’ house. I have been addressing the generous bequest following liaison with Peter Clarkson of Large, Smith and Turner, and I am delighted to say that with the work undertaken to the church structure and the balance of the proceeds invested for the benefit of the local diocese, I will now no longer be the last vicar of this parish. My successor takes over at the end of the month.

  It will not be without some sadness that I leave this parish, which has been my office and home for the past two decades. However, I will not be that far away in sunny Torquay, and will regularly visit my many friends in the village.

  You will have to forgive me for writing to you directly, but somehow I thought it was important to finish our dialogue. I would hope that during your visit here you came to realise that your parents loved you and remembered you always, and perhaps they lived in as much sorrow as you did for all those years. They could not demonstrate that love, at the same time just as you did not realise that it was so freely given. I imagine that you have come to understand this, having chosen to make such a generous bequest with their estate. And as to that bequest, all I can say is thank you - and frankly that feels so totally inadequate. Nevertheless, thank you.

  I am very pleased we had the opportunity to meet and chat that night and I wish nothing but happiness and joy for you and your family.

  Yours sincerely

  Brian

  Alexander pulled his wife closer as they sat on the bench with his arm around her shoulders.

  “I am so proud of you, I just cannot believe you are my husband,” Julia said, not quite in a whisper, but softly enough so that it was very private between the two of them.

  “I’m pleased with how things turned out. It was the right thing to do,” Alexander replied. “And thank you for coming with me this weekend. It kind of feels right to visit now that all the dust has settled. I needed to let some time pass since that last visit before returning. I would like to come again from time to time, particularly as I do miss Frances.”

  “Of course you do. Funny, but somehow Christmas is never the same without her turning up. But then I guess as the kids get older we will establish new memories and family traditions.” Julia missed Frances as well.

  Just as Julia was finishing, a young man walked around the end of the church. He was dressed in flowing black robes, which billowed in the breeze, and was carrying a large pile of what looked like small prayer books. He stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Alexander and Julia huddled close together on the bench and promptly dropped his armful of books. He stooped down to start collecting them from the grass and looked at Alexander and Julia as he did so.

  “Good morning,” he ventured, looking a little surprised. “Nice spot out of the breeze you have found there. Thanks to Mr and Mrs Talbot we have a jolly useful bench just where we need it.”

  Alexander looked at the new vicar more closely. He was very young, perhaps no more than his late twenties. He wore particularly thick spectacles and his curly black hair appeared to have a mind of its own.

  “Good morning,” Alexander replied. Ordinarily he would have got to his feet to shake hands, but somehow he felt the occasion did not merit such formality. He remained tightly snuggled against his wife on the bench.

  “Sorry, I looked surprised as I spotted you,” the vicar continued. “Only one does not expect to see people just sitting and enjoying the peace in our wonderful place here. Are you local, visiting… or perhaps you have just moved into the area?”

  “We are not local, no. Just visiting, as you say. We wanted to just take a few minutes, that is all,” Alexander replied, and turned to Julia, who simply smiled her agreement.

  “Well, please do not let me interrupt you, I am rather busy with changing all these prayer books over. I suggest you enjoy the seat and the tranquility. We are very lucky to have that bench in just the right place as I say. Mr and Mrs Talbot were quiet adamant that this should be the spot. In fact they were by all accounts very supportive of our little parish,” the vicar continued.

  Alexander smiled. He would have loved to have asked more of the vicar, but knew he would incur the wrath of Julia, who he could feel was getting rather uncomfortable sitting beside him. He felt a very subtle dig in his ribs.

  “That’s great and a thanks to Mr and Mrs Talbot,” said Alexander. “Well, we will not keep you. We will probably be on our way ourselves shortly.” Alexander was trying very hard to suppress a grin, as Julia wriggled on the bench next to him.

  “Right, right then, yes, absolutely. Well, very nice to meet you, and I hope you enjoy your visit to our lovely part of England.” And with that the vicar stood back up, all the books back in his arms and continued round the corner of the church.

  After he was out of sight, Alexander collapsed in laughter.

  “That could have been such a wind-up!” Alexander said, as he stood up from the bench.

  “You can be a complete nightmare sometimes!” Julia stood up and looked him straight in the eyes.

  “Don’t have a go,” Alexander quickly interjected. “I would never had told him. I prefer that he does not know anything. It was more fun knowing you were getting wound up in case I did say something!” Alexander laughed.

  Julia aimed a pointed finger straight at his chest. “Look, you, let us go and book into that lovely spa hotel as you promised, you remember the one Mike and Victoria Stapleford recommended to us. They had a lovely time there when Mike came back from the States a couple of years back after the operation. We could do with a swim and a sauna before dinner.” Julia smiled up at her husband and pulled him into an embrace. “I am so proud of you - and always will be.”

  About the Author

  Nicholas Faulkner is a Chartered Surveyor specialising in residential estate management and has lived in rural Hampshire for the last 25 years. His specialism in landlord and tenant work has led him to occasionally lecture and act as both expert witness and advocate.

  He is married to Gloria and he spends his time gardening, travelling with his family and supporting his two children.

  Writing fiction has become a source of relaxation and enjoyment, an outlet for a creative side which Nicholas’ imagination has not exercised since school on the Isle of Wight in the 1970s and 80s. His first book A Dream To Die For was published in 2014.

  Also by Nicholas Faulkner…

  A Dream To Die For

  Mike Stapleford is a successful lawyer in his mid-forties. Married to a lovely woman, he lives an enviable existence and has little to complain about.
r />   Sure, his marriage to Victoria isn’t perfect, but then whose is? Everything changes when a vivid dream forces Mike to question his own mortality and what he wants from the rest of his life.

  He has to face the question of what means most to him in this world and just what he wants to achieve before he dies…

  £7.99 (paperback)

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  Copyright

  Published in 2015 by Splendid Media Group (UK) Limited

  Text copyright © 2015 Nicholas Faulkner

  The right of Nicholas Faulkner to be identified as the Author of the work has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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  Commissioning Editor: Steve Clark

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