Page 26 of A Family Affair
‘Okay. I give in. I’m all yours.’ There was no putting it off and shehadpromised so, reaching forward, she slid the box off the table and onto her lap.
It had once contained a Christmas food hamper. Honey knew this because Aunty Beryl ordered one every year and the name of the company was printed on the side. After picking at the brown packing tape that sealed the lid, Honey stripped it back and opened the two flaps to reveal a layer of newspaper. Again she recognised it: theManchester Evening News.After glancing at the date, she realised that her aunt must have packed the box almost eighteen months earlier.
‘Always organised, weren’t you, Aunty Beryl… now what have we got in here.’ Honey removed the items one by one, with care. They were, after all, things her aunt regarded as heirlooms, special enough to warrant passing them on to Honey.
Half an hour later, after smiling and blubbing her way through three battered photo albums, she unwrapped a trio of china vases decorated with peonies, a tea set for two and some empty but beautifully intricate photo frames. They would all look perfect in the cottage.
She knew instinctively that Beryl had saved items that wouldn’t burden Honey; and that she had not wanted her niece to feel obliged to take them. A memory floated in, of Beryl giving Honey some sage advice.
And when I’m gone don’t you be thinking you have to keep all my tat. Just send it to charity because most of it is worthless, basic bits and bobs I’ve bought from Wilko’s or Tesco. I remember sorting through my old mum’s house, and it was a blooming nightmare, deciding what to chuck and what to keep. Weighed heavy on me for months it did. Not a nice job at all, so I don’t want you having to do it.
At the time, Honey had thought the conversation morbid and depressing, but Beryl had meant what she said. Which was why by the time she passed away she had de-cluttered and left very precise instructions for whoever she left behind. In the event, it had been Honey’s grandad and he followed her words to the letter.
That was why the items in the box meant even more to Honey, because they had been hand selected. Wrapped in tissue, a woollen cat and rabbit, knitted by Beryl’s own fair hands, and bless her, two matinee sets for a baby. A hat, bootees, and a cardigan. One pale yellow, the other white.
‘Are you trying to tell me something, Aunty Beryl?’ Honey smiled through her tears and swore, if she ever did have a child, maybe children, they would wear the traditional woollen clothes lovingly knitted for them.
Next, she picked through a little red velvet jewellery box that contained, amongst other things, Beryl’s wedding and engagement ring, a gold chain and a rather ugly brooch.
Covering what Honey thought was the bottom of the box lay a hand-embroidered tablecloth, decorated in an array of summer flowers entwined in pale green foliage. As she touched each one, Honey could imagine the hours it must have taken Beryl, who loved to sew and craft, and those hours suddenly meant the world to Honey.
‘Oh I do miss you, Aunty Beryl.’
After taking a sip of her wine, Honey pulled the tablecloth from the box so it could be stored in the spare room, and as she did, spotted the A4 manila envelope at the bottom. There was nothing written on the front but there was really no need, seeing as the contents were meant for her, anyway.
‘Ooh, what’s this?’ Honey was intrigued and lifted the envelope that was sealed with a strip of sticky tape.
She unpicked it quickly and tipped the contents onto her lap. Two more envelopes, marked one and two. This time her name was written on envelope number one, slim and white. Envelope number two was much thicker, manila and when she gave it a squeeze, Honey could tell there was something else inside. A hard bump and the sound of tissue crinkling under her touch.
For some reason, Honey was overcome with nerves, and she took a moment, just gazing at the contents of her lap.
So many thoughts.Why were they hidden at the bottom and why are they numbered? This isn’t like Aunty Beryl, to be secretive and mysterious. Just open number one, for heaven’s sake.
Following her own orders, Honey tore open the envelope and unfolded the lined paper inside, recognising her aunt’s neat writing instantly. She swallowed. Curiosity accompanying a sense of unease as Honey began to read Beryl’s words.
CHAPTER20
Dearest Honey. My beloved niece. Wonderful companion and friend,
Before I explain why you are reading this, I want to remind you of how much you mean to me, how much I love you. You were the daughter I yearned for, my little helper and attentive student. The hours we spent together baking and sewing, sticking, and gluing all sorts of crafty things were a gift, a true joy.
I am immensely proud of the young woman you have become, and I know that you will continue to make a success of your life, in your own kind and giving way.
The bits and bobs I left for you are just tokens, really. Little nods to you and me.
I hope you like my choices but if not, please don’t feel you have to hang on to them.
Honey paused and looked over to the photo on the side, ‘Oh Aunty Beryl. I love you too and I’d never throw them away. I’ll treasure them always.’
With a sigh she returned to the letter, still curious, and tentatively read on.
Now, to the reason for these letters. I trust that you have opened them in order and inside envelope 2, you will find a smaller package. Please open that when you have finished reading the contents. It will make more sense then.
As you know, family means everything to me and I have always done my best to keep us all together, bind the generations through good times and bad. I felt it was my duty. I must add it was one that I loved. Never a chore. I suppose in the end it became my quest.
At the time your great grandma Molly died, I had just divorced, and I admit, I was extremely lonely and cast adrift. The future terrified me, having to start again. Navigating life as a single woman was not something I’d envisaged.
I suppose I was quite a solitary figure and only had a handful of friends, all married, so I was quite the odd one out once the decree absolute came through. My husband got on with his life with his new woman and, for want of a better definition, I became stranded.
