The Gift Room Page 9

  “Sorry love, I did not get as far as the pub. I stayed here, as it was so late by the time the vicar had gone.”

  “You stayed in the creepy house? You poor darling.” Julia paused. “Hang on, what bloody time did that vicar go, and are you a little hungover?” Julia laughed. “Oh my God you have been on a drinking binge with a vicar!” She laughed again.

  “Brian was a really nice bloke, and he hasn’t always been a vicar.” Alexander felt himself starting to defend his evening, but clearly Julia was not upset, as she was still laughing at the end of the phone. “I just really needed someone to talk to and he made me think… I mean, he really made me think.”

  “Oh sweetie, sweetie, don’t get so defensive. I couldn‘t give a damn. I am pleased that there was someone with you. I didn’t like the idea of you being alone in that house. I am pleased you have had some sleep. What’s the plan of campaign for today?” Julia sounded more relaxed than Alexander had initially assumed she would be.

  “Well, at the moment I am having a cup of tea. I shall gather my thoughts and then get into the car. Although, I have to be honest, I don’t fancy driving too early after the wine that was consumed last night.”

  “That is sensible,” replied Julia. “Well, listen darling, I can hear the monsters stirring so I shall speak with you later - and make sure you do come home tonight because I miss you loads and want you here where you belong.”

  “I will be back, have no fear. Can’t wait for my hug. Love you lots,” and Alexander rang off and placed the phone down on the table, reaching for his tea as he did so.

  After he had finished his cup, Alexander made his way back upstairs to the Gift Room. He pushed the door open and surveyed the view once again. He had the watch on his wrist and the bear by the front door from his unwrapping yesterday. Somehow he did not wish to unwrap all the rest of the presents. He certainly did not want to consider taking them home wholesale, unwrapped. It would be rather scary to find his eldest son looking at some ruddy Scalextric set that was now neatly boxed but around 15 years old.

  “Interesting though,” he thought. “Still pristine. Some toys really appreciate in value if they are still boxed. Perhaps they should be put away as a long-term investment!” Although, in practice, he was only having fun thinking it through. He felt a lot more comfortable leaving these gifts here. Somehow this was where they belonged. He had no wish to look at his children’s faces as they surveyed year after year of presents that had never been sent.

  There was a curiosity aroused in him, however, as he wondered about the presents that were now in the room and, as yet, untouched and in their original packaging. He was looking at a time capsule for middle England. A range of presents purchased over 25 years for a range of ages; many of these would capture what was popular at that moment in time when they had been bought. Alexander decided that whilst he was unlikely to want any of the presents, somehow to see them might be rather fun. In fact fun had been in rather short supply the past week, he thought to himself. With that, he turned from the room and walked downstairs. In a matter of a few moments he had organised himself a second cup of tea and he took it back upstairs to the spare bedroom.

  “Well, this should while away a little time before I drive back to London,” he thought to himself. And with that he sat down on the floor and reached for an oblong present around two inches thick wrapped in rather nondescript adult birthday paper and read the label. He had always enjoyed unwrapping gifts as a child; a quick feel around the edges told Alexander that this was a book.

  To Alexander. Happy Birthday, and we thought this would be some nice holiday reading for you. Love Mum and Dad, 2003

  Alexander unwrapped it and found himself holding a copy of Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code.

  “Well I suppose, everyone else bought the bloody thing when it came out, so why wouldn’t they?” Alexander mused to himself. “Although why go to the bother of even writing a label that would only make sense if you came to send the present? They knew perfectly well by then that it was simply going to be put in this room with all the others. Perhaps they found the very act of placing the presents in the room sufficient over the years for them to consider that they had sent them to the recipients.”

  Alexander shuffled on the floor on his bottom until he was sitting with his back against the wall where, late yesterday afternoon, he had fallen asleep.

  “Where did we go on holiday that year?” he thought to himself. “2003: the kids were growing up, yes. Will would have been ten. That must have been the year we went to Corfu… great holiday.” Alexander had enjoyed the Greek island, with its natural beauty and crystal clear water.

  Alexander stood up and walked across to the range of bottles with various labels on their gift bags that were standing to attention on the window sill. He peeked inside the bags until he found one that took his fancy, a very nice bottle of single malt scotch. He read the label.

  Alexander. Have a lovely 40th birthday. Love Mum and Dad.

  “Well, thanks guys, it may be a little late but I think I will save that for my 50th birthday.” Alexander smiled to himself

  “A little ironic to have a birthday present from my Mum and Dad after they have died when I have not had one for over 25 years whilst they were alive,” he thought. He picked up the gift bag and then noticed an envelope casually lodged between two of the bottles. Replacing the bottle bag, he picked it up instead.

  The writing on the outside read:

  To Alexander and Julia. Happy Christmas, hope these bring you some luck, 1995

  Alexander opened the envelope and out fell half a dozen scratch cards for the National Lottery.

  “Well, I guess they must have come out that year…” Alexander answered his own question as it was bubbling around in his head. He then replaced them in the envelope and laid it back down on the windowsill. He picked up his 40th birthday present and walked out of the room. He closed the door after him without even looking back over his shoulder. Alexander had no wish to go back into the Gift Room ever again.

  A plan had been forming in his mind as he had enjoyed his tea, and now he was happy with the approach he was going to adopt.

  He walked downstairs, placed the bottle by the front door, next to the boxed bear and went through to the kitchen to find his suit jacket. He was sure it was on the back of a kitchen chair from yesterday. It was. Alexander picked up the local newspaper that he had turned over on the kitchen table the day before. He looked at the picture on the front page. He replaced the paper on the table face up. He knew what had happened to his parents had been horrendous, he did not need to keep the paper to remind him. He put his jacket on and then returned through the hall and upstairs, where he picked up his tie from the bedside table where he had left it last night. He felt rather too crumpled to put it on, so he rolled it up and placed it in his jacket pocket.

  He checked that the letter from his parents was neatly folded in his inside pocket, together with the list of shares that he had jotted down yesterday morning. He opened the front door and, picking up the bear and the gift bag, walked through it and down the couple of steps to his car.

  After placing the presents in the boot of the car he turned and shut and locked the front door, placing the key, still with his father’s handwritten note attached, in his pocket. As he did so, he realised that he had not reset the alarm. But he did not think it mattered too greatly. After all, what would be stolen if anyone broke in except an eclectic range of presents already gift wrapped and labelled to a family of five!

  Leaving the car parked on the drive, Alexander walked down to the road and turned left towards the church. It was a clear morning and he enjoyed seeing the village as he wandered down the little country lane. There were a variety of houses on either side of the road, a couple of terraces of old workers’ cottages, perhaps a hundred years old or so, right on the lane and then some 1970s and 1980s properties set further back up driveways. A small track led to the church. It sat within a reasonable plot,
with the usual variety of gravestones and benches scattered among the yew trees. In many ways, the scene could not have been more typically English. The track that led to the church continued past the edge of the graveyard, passing a low dry stone wall and on to a cluster of farm buildings. As Alexander walked through the small pedestrian gate and onto the path that led through the churchyard to the covered porch at the side of the church, he could see up the track to the farmyard, where a farmer was walking across with a sheep dog following obediently behind, clearly off for their morning walk.

  Alexander reached the front door of the Church, turned the knob and entered. He had never been inside before, having previously only visited his sister’s grave, which was around the back of the church towards the modern row of gravestones beside another low, dry stone wall. He walked in, turned up the aisle and sat quietly in one of the pews at the back, looking up at the stain glass window above the altar, which was illuminated by the early morning sun.

  As he was thinking, he noticed a small wooden door to the left of the choir stalls open, and Brian appeared from what was obviously the vestry. He looked down the aisle of his church and spotted Alexander sitting in the pew.

  “Good morning, Alexander. What a pleasant surprise.” Brian smiled broadly. “I assumed we may not see each other again, and if we did, then certainly not so soon.”

  “Well, I did not know if you were going to be here. I came in as much to think. But please don’t think me rude! It is very nice to see you, as well.” Alexander felt awkward. He had not meant to be so direct with Brian, but he was relieved when he saw him smile again.

  “No offence, please don’t worry! Many people come into the church to contemplate… some even pray.” Brian laughed at his own joke. “Take your time, I was just dealing with some paperwork. Truth be told, I had something of a thick head this morning!” Now it was the time for Alexander to smile.

  “Thank you for our chat last night,” Alexander said. “It has helped me a great deal. I think I was struggling to find some understanding, and in practice perhaps I don’t need to.” He paused. “The thing is, my parents clearly never stopped thinking about either me or my family. To them, perhaps that was enough to justify love. And if that is the case, then that is fine. I should not judge. It is between them and their Maker as to whether they are happy with the choices they made. I know I loved my parents and perhaps I am as guilty as they are in not demonstrating it. Anyway, what I needed to do was to reach a point of comfort, in a way, so I could move on with my life, with my family, and not regret the life that I would have liked to have lived, with my parents in it.”

  “Well, Alexander, to be honest there is not a lot I can say that I did not say last night. If you have come to a place with some sense of calm over the situation, then I am very happy for you.” Brian held out his hand as, somehow, he felt it was the correct thing to do. Alexander shook it warmly whilst still sitting in the pew.

  “If you don’t mind, vicar, I would like to stay awhile.”

  “Of course, Alexander. Stay as long as you like, I shall be off to the vicarage now.” And with that, Brian turned and walked down the aisle and through the church door, closing it quietly behind him.

  Alexander had not been in a church for quite a while. He had found his explanation to Brian rather helpful. In an odd way he had needed to put into words, out loud, what was going through his mind. Now he was sitting alone, quietly sitting in a pew and watching the glorious sunlight flooding through the stained glass. He pulled the floor kneeler out from the pew in front of him and knelt down.

  Alexander prayed.

  He prayed to his God. He thanked him for all that he had provided in his life. He prayed for the health and happiness of his lovely wife; his three wonderful children. He prayed that his sister had found some peace and that his parents were also at rest. Yes, he prayed for them as well. He had much to be grateful for. He led a blessed existence and he thanked God for that.

  Alexander stood up in the pew. He wiped his eyes. Whilst he was not crying, they were still unmistakably moist. He knew that he had one last meeting to attend before he could start his trip home to his family. He walked down the aisle and out through the same door that Brian had exited the church from, a matter of half an hour before. Alexander immediately felt the bright sunlight upon his face. He turned left, having walked out of the porch, off the concrete path and onto grass, which was long and in need of a mow. He walked around the end of the church, past an enormous yew tree and a bench, and in the shadow cast by the church against the sunlight, he saw the neat row of modern gravestones lined up along the dry stone wall at the edge of the graveyard. He walked across to the middle of the row and scraped away the grass that had encroached on a small plaque laid into the ground.

  Frances Natalie Talbot. 1962 – 1997, a much loved daughter and sister

  Alexander stood up and looked down at his sister’s resting place. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone. He dialled the number in the memory for the firm of solicitors he had visited the previous day.

  The phone was answered quickly, after just three rings.

  “Good morning. Large, Smith and Turner Solicitors. Can I help you?”

  “Yes, I am sure you can,” Alexander responded. “I would like to speak with Mr Clarkson. I saw him yesterday. My name is Alexander Talbot”

  “Oh, yes of course, Mr Talbot, I remember you. I shall just see if he is free.” The receptionist was clearly the same lady who had served Alexander his coffee the previous day. After a few moments of rather dubious music on the end of the phone, Alexander was pleased to hear the voice of Mr Clarkson.

  “Alexander, I was not certain when I would hear from you. How can I help?”

  “Well, Mr Clarkson, I am very sorry for the short notice…”

  Alexander began but was politely interrupted. “Please, call me Peter,” Mr Clarkson said.

  “Yes, of course, thank you. Well Peter, I wondered if I could pop in to see you later this morning. I appreciate that you are busy, but I am still down in Devon and would very much appreciate your time before I head back home.” Alexander realised that what he was asking was a terrible imposition, but he wanted to tie up all the loose ends before his trip back home. One thing he was certain about was that he was not going to delay his drive up the M5 and M4 to Surrey. He would be having dinner at home with Julia that evening without fail.

  “Alexander, of course, it is the least I can do. I did not realise that you would in fact be staying overnight, down here, in any event.” Mr Clarkson sounded very accommodating and Alexander was pleased he did not feel he was putting the solicitor out in any way.

  “Are you sure? I realise I am being rather pushy.” Alexander wanted to press the point.

  “Alexander, I would say if I were busy - and I know you would appreciate and understand that. I am not, and you are welcome at my offices. Shall we say 11.30am and we can have a chat?”

  “Great, 11.30am it is - and thank you.” Alexander rang off and looked down at his sister’s grave once more. “Miss you, Sis… you have no idea how much I miss you.” He turned to make his way back across the old churchyard and around the end of the building so he could rejoin the path at the church porch and make his way back towards his parents’ old house.

  It took Alexander just over 30 minutes to drive to the Exeter offices of the solicitors. He parked in the car park and, because he was early, decided to call Julia and have a catch-up.

  “Darling, it’s me,” he said as the phone was answered after just a few rings. “I have decided to pop in and see the solicitor again as I am down here and it will save me another journey, and he has kindly agreed to give me half an hour or so at 11.30am. I am parked at his offices now and after our chat I’ll be heading straight back home.”

  “Thank God, I cannot tell you how much I want you back here! I know it has only been one night - but all this emotion… I just want my lovely Alexander back where he belongs.” Julia sounded reli
eved. “I appreciate we will have to go down again. I suppose funeral arrangements, selling the house and Lord knows what other administration and paperwork to sort out, but we should be able to organise that so we are together and I can support you, as opposed to just being at the end of the telephone.”

  “Well, actually, I am going to leave the keys of the house with the solicitor and after I have chatted matters through with him, I hope I will be able to simplify most of these issues.” Alexander felt pleased that he had some clarity on the situation - a clear plan on how to progress.

  “What are you up to?” Julia enquired with what Alexander thought would have been a broad smile across her face if he could have seen her.

  “Well, I have been thinking, and I am happy with where I am sort of emotionally. I popped along to the church this morning…” Alexander was interrupted by his wife.

  “Don’t tell me you have found God, or is it just His personal representative in Devon called Brian, your drinking buddy?”

  “Don’t worry, I am not about to run off and join a commune with a tambourine in one hand,” Alexander laughed. “I have found it helpful to chat through with Brian, I have prayed, and I also went to visit Frances’ grave. I feel fine, I really do. I will tell you all about it when I get home. I am going to pop in and see Mr Clarkson now.”

  “OK, well, best of luck and call me when you are on the road. You should get back before the traffic is too bad and we can have a nice family dinner. You had better explain to the kids about this weird Gift Room! I have not yet had the courage! Love you lots.” Julia rang off and Alexander pressed the button on the steering wheel to finish the call at his end. He got out of the car and walked towards the sliding glass doors for the reception.

  CHAPTER 9

  In a matter of five minutes, Alexander found himself sitting in the same meeting room as he had been in the previous morning. A cup of coffee was in front of him and, this time, he was waiting for Mr Clarkson to appear. He had been shown straight in by the receptionist. He took out from his jacket pocket the house key with the alarm code written on the tag and placed it on the table in front of him. It felt somehow symbolic. He turned the tag over to reveal his father’s handwriting, with the alarm code. He also removed the list of stocks and shares that he had written down the previous day whilst sitting at his father’s desk in his study. It had only been a matter of 24 hours, or even less than that, and yet somehow so much seemed to have happened that it felt like a lifetime ago. He reached for his coffee, took a long sip and was placing the cup back in the saucer just as the door opened and Mr Clarkson came in, carrying the same large file as he had the previous day. He placed it down on the table and extended his hand to Alexander.