The Gift Room Read online

  “I shall eat, I promise. Thank you for being so understanding.” Alexander rang off and looked around the kitchen. He smiled as he looked at the loaf purchased from the village shop earlier that day, perhaps, he thought, there had been some divine guidance that had realised he would need to eat in his parents’ house. He made his way across to the fridge and opened it. Butter, an unopened packet of ham and some cheese. Enough to stop him from starving to death, he thought. As it had only been those few days since last week when his parents had died, everything was still in date. He quickly looked at each item as he pulled them from the fridge and placed them on the kitchen table. He looked at the pile of post still at one end. There was no way he was going to bother looking through that at this time. He quickly opened a few drawers and cupboards and found a bread board and a knife, and settled down to make himself some sandwiches, the fresh bread cut easily and looked appetising. A few minutes later, a little pile of them presented themselves on the board in front of him. As he started to eat, he realised how hungry he had become. After the first two, he stopped and looked around the kitchen once again. Alexander fancied something to drink with his snack, but he had consumed enough tea and coffee for the day. He wandered into the dining room, helped himself to a bottle of red from the wine rack that he had spotted earlier during his inspection of the ground floor and went back into the kitchen. After locating a corkscrew and glass, he sat again at the table and enjoyed the rest of the sandwiches, washed down with a glass of pleasant Italian red. His father had always sent off for wine though some club or other that usually advertised in the broadsheet newspapers. On this occasion, Alexander was pleased to find it rather drinkable and he was not inclined to berate his late Dad over being a wine snob.

  CHAPTER 5

  It was past 6.30pm and now almost dark outside, so Alexander put the light on in the hall as he walked through and up the stairs to look, once again, at the room with the presents. His quick snack had helped his mood improve, he had clearly been hungrier than he realised and he was feeling less conscious being in the house on his own, He sat on the floor of The Gift Room, placing the bottle of red wine and glass which he had carried up, beside him, and looked at the present wrapped in wedding paper. It was large and square and, attached to it, a simple card read:-

  To Alexander and Julia on your special day. We are sorry we cannot be with you. Love Mum and Dad.

  “Well, that’s crap for a start!” thought Alexander. “You were bloody well invited and just did not turn up to our wedding.” He pulled back the paper to reveal a heavy wooden box with drawers that contained a set of cutlery, with a variety of knives, forks and spoons all laid out in individual slots, each item carefully separated from the next in a green velvet setting.

  “Well, thank Christ you never gave us that - it’s hideous,” exclaimed Alexander out loud. Perhaps it was the wine, but he sat back against the bedroom wall, stretching his legs out on the carpet between two piles of presents and let his mind drift back in time…

  Alexander was walking through a London street - well, staggering actually. He was leaning heavily on his friend Charles, who was trying to sing but seemed to be forgetting most of the words. They were clearly not about to rival ‘Tears for Fears’ in the charts.

  “Sod your bloody parents, mate. I mean it, sod ‘em,” Charles said as they rounded a corner and looked at a pub where people were standing around outside, enjoying the evening sunshine and chatting.

  “You’re right. It’s my 21st birthday and if they don’t want to celebrate with me then sod ‘em. Shall we try this pub for a last, swift half before we head for the tube?” Alexander looked at his friend.

  “To be honest, mate, I think we are going to struggle to get served!” Charles was being realistic.

  “Don’t worry, I have a plan!” Alexander stopped leaning on his friend’s shoulder, straightened himself up and walked across the road to the group of people that had congregated, mostly with drinks in hand, on the pavement. They were spilling onto the road, which was devoid of traffic as it was clearly a dead end.

  “Ladies, I shall be completely honest with you!” Alexander had singled out two girls standing alone and chatting to each other. One had long, dark curly hair, and was petite in build. Alexander could not help noticing her sparkling eyes, which seemed to be constantly moving, taking in her surroundings, darting this way and that.

  “It is my 21st birthday, I have had too many beers already, but I have had a bad day… My parents do not wish to celebrate with me and, thus, I am alone in this friendless city… well with the exception of my mate here for company.” Alexander motioned to Charles, who was a few steps behind him, and as he did so he swayed slightly. “If you would take this £20 note into the bar…” Alexander reached into his jacket pocket and removed his wallet and his last note, “And purchase two beers and whatever you are drinking, then I shall be forever in your debt.” Alexander started to sway slightly more dangerously. The girls looked at him and exchanged glances. The taller of the two girls had long, straight blonde hair and spoke first. “I don’t think so. Although, as approaches go, I do think that is a little different!”

  She laughed as she looked at Alexander and Charles. At that moment, the dark haired girl on the left reached out and took the £20 note from his hand.

  “My name is Julia, and it will be a pleasure… If you are still standing upon my return from the bar, perhaps you could tell me your name.” And with that she turned quickly and her long, dark curls swirled after her head as she walked purposefully in through the open doors of the pub.

  A few minutes later Julia returned, carrying a tray with four champagne flutes and a bottle of unopened Moet.

  “Sorry, there was no change to speak of!” she said. “Well, if it really is your 21st, you should celebrate in style and I am certainly not intending to act as a waitress for anything less than a glass of ice cold champagne!” Alexander and Charles were leaning against the window ledge for support as they had tried, with little success, to engage her friend Maxine in conversation.

  “Shit, you’re something!” said Alexander as he took the champagne bottle from the tray and went to open it. “By the way, I am Alexander and this is Charles,” he said, as he started to prize the cork from the bottle.

  “Well, Alexander, it is a pleasure to meet you - my friend is Maxine. Although if we are ever to spend any more time together other than the next 30 minutes, I suggest you pass me the bottle and I shall teach you how to open it without spilling half the contents - after all, you have just paid for it.” And with that Julia took the bottle from Alexander, having first passed the tray to her friend.

  “You see, you hold the cork still and twist the bottle anti-clockwise. I thought everyone knew that?” Julia said, as she deftly opened the champagne with a satisfying pop; a little fizz of bubbles appeared at the neck, but none spilled onto the pavement.

  As she poured the fizzing wine into the flutes that Maxine still had on the tray, she looked across at Alexander.

  “Well, a very happy birthday, Alexander.” They each raised a glass from the tray, clinked them together and drank.

  “Well, I may now have to eat beans on toast for a month after you spent my last £20 note, but that champagne is worth it.” Alexander said, as he drained his glass.

  That had been 25 years ago and, somehow, the very day that his family ties with his parents had ended so abruptly, so had his new family started to build itself around him. Alexander and Julia became a permanent couple, with a growing circle of London friends, over the months and years that followed. Despite the very best efforts of Charles, he had never managed to even obtain so much as a telephone number from Julia’s friend Maxine. A couple of years later, Maxine had ended up backpacking around Australia and never come home. The blue sky, warm climate and a handsome Australian architect in Sydney had kept her on the other side of the world.

  She and Julia had still kept in touch through email and, latterly, Facebook. It ha
d not escaped Alexander’s notice that Julia had managed to maintain a friendship across 20,000 miles and 25 years, yet during the same period he had never got around to seeing his parents or managing more than an occasional Christmas card. Somehow, out of the adversity of that day, Alexander’s 21st birthday, he had found his life partner, whom he knew would be at his side forever. He could rely upon Julia to be in his corner against all-comers. She would always be truthful in speaking with him, even when he didn’t want to hear her opinion.

  Somehow he needed her to be his voice of reason, his live conscience, it had always stood him in such good stead over their marriage.

  They had married three years after meeting on that fateful night. They had travelled back to Julia’s parents’ village as she had wanted a very traditional white wedding, with flowing gown, horse-drawn carriage to the church, and reception in a marquee. In fact the whole event had been lovely. Her father had walked his only child up the aisle of their local village church where, some ten years later, they would lay him to rest. Her mother had enjoyed every facet of the wedding planning and had gone to town with the flowers that festooned the church and the marquee that had been set up in their beautifully tended garden.

  Alexander had kept to tradition as well and, although they had been living together for a couple of years and had just a few months before the service moved from renting to buying their first flat together, he had still stayed in the local pub the night before their big day while Julia had busied herself back at her family home with her mother and her cousin, who was acting as chief bridesmaid.

  Alexander had enjoyed a quiet evening in the pub with his trusty wingman Charles. They had both ordered steak and chips and been careful not to drink too much wine.

  “Mate,” Alexander had said as they watched the remnants of the cheeseboard cleared away by the waiter and sat with the last sips of red wine in their glasses. “Are they going to come?”

  “Who?” replied Charles.

  “My fucking parents you moron!” Alexander needed reassurance, not a smart approach.

  “Honestly… I don’t know. They could walk into the bloody church like nothing has happened five minutes before the ceremony starts… or they may not turn up at all… I’m sorry.” Charles looked at his friend and recognised the emotional strain on his face. He had seen this before on his 21st birthday.

  Alexander drained his glass and stood up. “You are right, what will be will be. I’m off to bed as I have no intention of looking hungover for my beautiful bride tomorrow morning.”

  “Mate, right call and for the record, she is lovely.” Charles stood up opposite his friend and they left the pub’s restaurant, heading up the old wooden stairs to their rooms.

  The day itself had been a glorious late July day, with a clear blue sky and a lovely drive from the church down country lanes past harvesting farmers towards the waiting chilled champagne and canapés. What a day that had been: sublime, perfect, with just the exception of the gaping hole that should have been filled by the proud father and mother of the groom. Alexander’s sister had been there; Frances, looking a little awkward as his only blood relative to attend. The only real problem had been when Alexander had come to give his speech after the meal. The marquee had been hot and probably a little too much champagne had been consumed by the time he rose to his feet.

  “Family, friends, my lovely wife, Julia,” Alexander began, and was immediately drowned by applause… As it subsided, he continued. “Thank you so much for attending on this, our special day. I appreciate my speech is meant to be witty and funny so perhaps it is best if I recount the tale of how I met my gorgeous Julia. Those of you who have already been bored by this story over the last few years will just have to grin and bear it. I have arranged for no more drinks to be served whilst I entertain you! So I promise to keep it short.” A ripple of laughter rang around the marquee.

  “On my 21st birthday I accosted Julia outside a public house in London, a little worse for wear, and asked if she would buy, with my money I hasten to add…” (Another ripple of laughter.) “… a couple of beers for myself and Charles, my best man today. She disappeared into the pub and came out a few minutes later with champagne and four glasses claiming that if she were to act as a waitress then this is what she was going to drink!” More laughter, and a few people clapped. Alexander looked down at his wife seated at his side and smiled.

  “Well, as you all know that was some three years ago and now I stand before you, immensely proud and happy as her husband. Unfortunately, my parents are not here today…” Alexander could feel his voice wavering. He paused, tried to control his emotions, looked at the ceiling of the marquee as it flapped in the summer breeze, took a deep breath. “I wanted them to see the beautiful lady who is my wife, their daughter-in-law…”

  His voice trailed off and he felt tears running down his cheeks. He began to cry, openly; he could not stop himself. Julia jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. Everyone looked at the couple as Alexander held on to his new wife, as though she were the only thing anchoring him to the ground.

  Alexander gathered himself. That had not been the first time his wife had been there, in his corner, supporting him without hesitation. “Ladies and Gentlemen, sorry for that slight delay in transmission!” A ripple of laughter lifted the mood. “I would like to especially thank my new parents-in-law, Frank and Wendy, for this lovely day, and for welcoming me into their family. And now a toast… to my Julia, without whom, as I think I have aptly demonstrated to you, I am a jabbering wreck! To Julia!”

  Everyone raised their glasses and stood and then cheered, and Alexander stood, holding on to Julia’s hand, raising his own champagne flute. He didn’t need his own parents any more, they did not want to be a part of his life, so he should respect the choice they made and carry on and live his life the way he wanted to, now as a partnership with Julia.

  CHAPTER 6

  Alexander stood up in the room, leaving the canteen of cutlery on the floor and reaching down for his empty glass of wine. It was then that he noticed a small envelope on the floor. It must have been lying beneath the canteen of cutlery that he had just moved. He pushed away the wrapping paper that he had discarded earlier and reached down for the white envelope. His father’s handwriting was unmistakable.

  To Alexander, 1989

  “Well, that is odd, a year after my 21st, and before we got married.” Alexander ripped open the envelope and out dropped a gift card and a short letter.

  Dear Alexander,

  We understand from Frances that you have met a lovely young lady, Julia, and now you are moving in together. We appreciate that such a step must mean you are committed to each other, and we hope that you will be very happy. We also understand that this is probably a time of considerable expense, and so we hope the enclosed will help buy some of the basics.

  Regards,

  Mum and Dad

  Alexander opened the gift card and saw a gift token from John Lewis for £50.

  “Christ, what were they on?” Alexander spoke out loud as though the room would somehow help him to understand his parents and their thought processes. “£50 towards kitchen pots and pans would have been bloody handy; why the sodding hell didn’t you just pop a stamp on it?”

  Alexander sat back against the wall and casually let the letter and the voucher drop to the floor. It came to rest alongside the wrapping paper.

  “Well, I guess I could still use it, or perhaps the small print terms and conditions have a use by date on them!” he mused to himself. “Come to think about it, I wonder if John Lewis have some sort of archive department and might like it back, one vintage gift voucher.”

  He looked down at the dated design of the paper voucher thinking how modern versions now always seem to come as a plastic card. He looked at his watch, was it a new watch, was it an old watch? Well, it was new to him that day, but somehow, as it was now well over two decades since his parents had bought it for him, it felt m
ore like an old watch. It had laid in its box, wrapped up, untouched and waiting for him for all these years. It was just coming up to 8pm. He stood up and turned to switch on the light in the room, as the illumination from the hallway downstairs, that had been leaking through the open door, was no longer bright enough. He then reached down and lifted the bottle from the floor. As he poured the last of its contents into his glass, and replaced the empty bottle by the door into the room, his mind turned again to Julia. He had enjoyed just closing his eyes and remembering his birthday all those years ago, and then their wedding. He often thought of his first meeting with Julia, and wondered at how, out of the adversity of that day, he had found her.

  “God moves in mysterious ways…” he said to himself, and was interrupted by the doorbell downstairs. “His wonders to perform…” he completed the saying out loud as he walked down the stairs and approached the front door. He opened it and saw the vicar standing in front of him, the same man whom he had seen in the village shop just a few hours earlier.

  “Bloody hell,” were the first words from Alexander’s mouth, which he instantly regretted. “I am so sorry,” he said quickly and thought he should explain in a little more detail to the kindly-looking mature man who now stood before him. “It’s just that I was upstairs, talking to myself, and said aloud, God moves in mysterious ways…”

  “And then his local servant appears on your doorstep,” the vicar completed his sentence. “I can quite understand your reaction then when you opened the door to me!” He smiled at Alexander. “I am afraid it is not a question of divine intervention at Godfrey St John, just that I was taking my evening constitutional and noticed the lights on… I was a little surprised, you see.” The vicar did not need to complete his explanation any further. Of course everyone in the small village had been aware of the terrible fate of Alexander’s parents and thus assumed the house would be empty at present.