I've always liked funerals.I don't know why, I just do. The quietness of everyone, the stillness as they say goodbye. Almost as if time had stopped. I like every other funeral except this one. This one plays in my mind over and over again since the day it happened.
It had been a few years since the last time I saw her, well and walking around. Then, over the next few years she got worse, and worse, and worse until she died. Age 83. On Friday the 13th of December 2015 at 12:14 p.m. Chelsea Hospital in room 23. They had said she had died in her sleep peacefully. I was 11 at the time it came as a real shock to me and...well... just me. Everyone else in my family,even some of our friends, thought that she was crazy. Even if my Mum did say " Oh I loved your Granny so much, she was such a great person"
We all know she was lying,she probably couldn't name a single thing that Gran was interested in, and just wanted to see if she got any of the giant fortune my Granny had accumulated over the years. Which brings us to the reading which was very, very interesting...
The first bit wasn't much of a surprise;it was right after the funeral so everyone was there and they were all exactly like my Mum, pretending to be sad, I could just feel the desire dripping off of them. It was quite funny and sad at the same time really; everyone around me pretending to actually like Granny, to fool someone else who did,'t care. It was as if there was an unspoken agreement in the air: you don't snake on me and I won't snake on you. It was horrible. Although, if you did look past all of the black clad bodies you could see a beautiful venue; vintage wallpaper adorned the walls in patterns too complicated to try to explain; checkered tiles lead down the hall into dozens of adjoined rooms waiting to be discovered; Humungus archways littered the sides of the room and hidden lights lit up giving the room an ominous glow. In the centre of the room stood a considerably large table laden down with an assortment of drinks and snacks. I picked up a croissant and bit into it. Delicious.
To be honest you could probably fit a giraffe in this room with the indoor balcony looking down on us. It was basically a double decker room. There was somebody up there; I don't know how they got up there though; maybe if I squinted I could... "LAYLA!", it was my Mum, "Come say hi to these very lovely people I think they might be your second cousins twice removed" I looked at the two people she was talking about. A fat and stubby boy standing next to a stick wearing makeup,oops, sorry I mean a girl. I look at my Mum as if to say 'really?' she just glared back.
"Coming" I sigh reluctantly.
When the will reader came in everyone went silent,greedy pigs all they cared about was money; but to tell you the truth, I also wanted to know who the chosen few who were lucky enough to get a bit of the loot?
"Christina Roberts(my Mum);Frank Roberts(my Dad); Rachel Dominica(my Aunt); James Rufus(my Uncle);Nathaniel Rowan and finally Layla Roberts" called out the will reader; a considerably small man with slicked over hair to hide his balding head and a moustache. He looked like he belonged in a history documentary.
The room was filled with murmurs "Why was she called out?"
"She's nothing special"
"Sucking up to her Granny like that all those years just to get some money. Disgusting" I scoffed; as if they could talk.
But I also was wondering; why me? Right as I felt a hand fall onto my shoulder,I flinched back before realising it was my Mum, she led me out of the room and into a little office two doors down. It wasn't anything memorable; a small room with bookshelves lining the walls and a table in the middle of the room surrounded by chairs. Nothing else. No windows,no pictures and no doors other than the one we came in through.
"Take a seat", we all sat, "I presume you all know why you are here," we all nod, "you were close to,or related to, Mrs Rufus who sadly passed away at the age of 83. You are all mentioned in her will. Well let's get into it.
She has stated here 'to my dearest children Rachel ;and your husband Frank; James and Christina I give you my love and equally share ¼ of my fortune.", you could see their faces fall as they realised that they didn't get the big money, "To my closest friend Nathaniel Rowan I give you my book collection and some advice", the will reader gave the peculiar man a note. He read it, smiled and looked at me. Strange, "and last but not least to the light of my life, my little Layla. I give you my house; the rest of my riches;all of my belongings,I know that leather will look good on you when you are older so I got you an outfit specially made. Lots of love Granny. Oh and you also get this note" I hurriedly take the note he has in his hand with blurry eyes. He began to talk again, something about lawyers and legal things, but all I could hear was a humming in my ears. Her house, her fortune(or most of it anyway) and all her belongings! What? Everyone was staring at me,Aunt Rachel, Uncle James, even my parents. All looking with murderous glints in their eyes like they wanted to kill me and take the money for themselves. Well when I say everyone that excludes Mr Owanwhatshisname who was smirking at me like it was all just a game. And I had lost. Big time. Now looking back at it all, I couldn't help but agree with him.
Suddenly I remembered the note, it said: To my little Layla you need to open this when you start to see them or a week before you turn 14, whichever comes first(hopefully the latter) Lots of love Granny XOXO P.S. There is a little surprise waiting for you at home.
Who did she mean by them? And what was the surprise? I wonder as I am,again, led out of the room. As soon as I am about to take a step into the big hall; I am whisked away by someone I don't know. I feel big calloused hands wrapped around my wrist as I presume what is a man, drags me down the hall and shoves me into a random room. Almost immediately after he shuts the door the chatter from the outside goes silent. It was that weird guy again; Mr Owanwhatshisname. Too shocked to scream I just slump to the floor by the side of the room. My back hits what I think is a bookcase. Was he here for the money? I just got it. I couldn't do anything now with it anyway. I was too young to die, I thought as he bent down to my eye level. My emotions were swelling up. Anger at him; confusion about what he wanted with me; frightened at what he was going to do and many, many more that I couldn't explain.
Finally getting my voice back, I began to scream. He just smirked at me. What the hell? Aren't you meant to like be worried someone will find me? Annoying old man. I started to scream louder and began to kick at him; his face fell,he finally had had enough of it after I managed to get a few good hits on him.
"Enough", he screamed. Like there weren't over 100 people on the other side of the door, "Look i'm not trying to hurt you OK? I just want to talk"
"Then why not talk to me like a normal person out there instead of dragging me off to god knows where?" I shoot back.
He smirks at my frustration and simply said "Because they aren't like us now are they Nyx"
I stare at him blankly, ok this guy is really crazy now isn't he.
The man sighs and throws a card down on me and my eyes follow it down as it lands right at my feet "Just come and find me when you need me" not if, when. This guy wasn't making any sense at all. When I look back up Mr. Owanwhatshisname was gone and the ear-splitting chatter was back. I groan, pick up the card and make a beeline out the door to my Mum; who didn't seem the slightest bit worried that I had disappeared by the way.
"Ah there you are my lovely daughter! Ready to go? What am I saying? of course you are." she chuckles. What on earth was going on? Ohh right the money; I scoff internally. Greedy,that's what they were, greedy. The lot of them. As my Mum starts to take me to the car, I catch sight of the man who had nearly kidnapped me. We lock eyes; he grins at me and I just glare back; which caused him to grin even more. Even after we had walked out of the door I still felt his eyes burning holes into my back.
Halfway back to our house I looked down at my hands, which were playing with the card in my hands. His card. All the way back I had studied it, memorising the background of 8 books slightly tilted and leaning against each other. With a thick black line going through the middle 'Antique Bookshop' it said in white writing across the middle of the black line. I guess that is why Gran gave him her books. The card didn't even have a number, only and address:
53 Goldcrest Lane TJ14 10NO.