Beware the Chair

It was the final piece of clearing up and then the house would be empty. Most of the things had gone to the charity shop and a few bits on eBay but for some reason he had been unable to deal with the chair that she had always sat on.

Well today had to be that day because the house was being sold or completed, whatever word the solicitor had said, tomorrow. He bent low and lifted the old armchair. It wasn’t as heavy as he thought and he came up too quickly and felt something twinge in his back. “Bollocks” he said loudly and immediately regretted it. Was the last word he said in his old family home going to be an expletive? Almost unconsciously he heard himself say, “Sorry,” and found himself smiling. She had gone but he still didn’t want to let her or his father down.

He carried the chair to the front door and then went back to the room. He glanced round it and saw the shadows of his childhood. It had been such a happy family, no issues, occasional rows but nothing major. He remembered feeling slightly jealous at school when his friends talked about their homes. Why couldn’t his family have such emotions and hate, such problems and pain? 

What a dick he had been back then. Now he could value the all encompassing love his mother and father had showered upon him. They were so happy together and so was he as the only child to get their attention.

He smiled and pulled the lounge door closed on his past. A new family would start their memories here from tomorrow and his would fade into the walls.

He looked at the chair by door and decided it would fit better in the car the other way up. It was as he was lifting it that the envelope fell out from the recess of the padding. He put the chair down and picked it up. It was well worn with a stamp he didn’t recognise. The name on the envelope was his mother’s but the address was one he didn’t know.

He sat on the edge of the stairs and shifted his glasses from his forehead to over his eyes. He carefully slipped the letter out. The paper was thin and smooth from being read so often. He opened up the folds tenderly and began to decipher the flowing script.

It was a letter to his mother in the most loving terms. He jumped to end to see his father’s name but it wasn’t there. He read to the end and felt his heart freeze, his spine slump and a cloud block the light in his mind. Suddenly the echo of voices in his head were so loud.

“Well he must take after your side of the family Kath, he looks nothing like Stan.”