Chapter 10 – Anna
The large black wrought iron gates were wide open, allowing the days activities to proceed. To the left of the gates stood a stone built Gothic-style lodge, now used as an office.
It was a lovely mid-autumn day, and the now cooler sun shone through the trees that lined the cemetery road, casting dancing shadows across the tarmac. On both sides of the road the headstones and statues gave a history of the cemetery, from the life-size Victorian angels showing the occupants of the grave to be of some wealth, to the more modest limestone headstones, weathered by age and decay, the engraving almost illegible, to the black granite and gold lettering of more modern times.
As David drove the Ford Focus at a respectably slow speed down the road to the newly-allocated burial area, they passed a sombre crowd gathered around a newly dug grave. The priest in his white frock and black cloak probably saying the same words as were said when his wife Anna’s Aunt Ellie was buried just three months earlier.
On the back seat of the car was an enormous bunch of white oriental lilies. Aunt Ellie loved lilies even though everyone told her that they were the flower of the dead, but she would always argue their virtues. Ironically now, for her, they were flowers of the dead.
They pulled up just short of Aunt Ellie's grave and made their way along the little path to where she was buried. The new headstone had only just been erected the week before. Removing last weeks flowers from the aluminium urn Aunt Ellie smiled back at them from the oval photo at the top of the headstone, ALWAYS IN OUR HEARTS were the words engraved below, picked out in gold leaf. Indeed she was, because she left the large house that had been her home for most of her eighty-seven years to them, along will all its expensive contents.
Once they had finished, they stood in silence, deep in personal thought for a few moments before gathering up the now wilted flowers from the week before and making their way back down the path to the ironwork cage used to dispose of dead flowers, soggy mementoes and other rubbish.
As David went to throw the old lilies in the cage, Anna said, "Hang on. What's that under the rubbish?"
Just underneath was the corner of a box, covered in brown parcel paper sellotaped and bound with dirty looking string.
David pulled it out from under the detritus and began to examine it. “It’s obviously been here overnight," he said. "The ink on the address has run a little.”
Anna studied the writing. "I can just make out the address" she said, trying to sound like Sherlock Holmes. "Madam Norma something, Belfont, 21 or 81, Rue de Safont, 3 or 8 5500, Béziers, S/France."
"What shall we do with it?" she asked, shaking it to see if it would give up any further clues, to no avail. "Just leave it where it is. It’s nothing to do with us."
“But supposing its something important or sentimental. After all, we're a long way from the South of France. Maybe it was thrown away by mistake",
“Don't over dramatise. You always over dramatise. Just throw it back".
"No," she replied, this time with an air of authority rather than enquiry. "It’s obviously something important, I can feel it. Call it woman's intuition if you want, but I'm going to make sure it gets to where it belongs.”
Reluctantly, David gave in as usual and once in the car, they made their way home, the package securely on Anna's lap.
Once home, Anna placed the package on the kitchen table, made them both a cup of tea and went upstairs. When she returned she had her hairdryer in one hand and a roll of brown paper in the other. “Right,” she said with purpose. "Let's tidy this thing up.”
Untying the string carefully and placing it to one side, she began unwrapping the parcel, under the soggy brown the box was in remarkably good condition. Laying it flat she could make out the name and address more clearly, a quick blow-dry round the box and it was ready to be re-wrapped.
"Don't you want to know what's in it?" David asked.
“No, it’s not our business, but as I said, I think it's important. I can feel it." David wandered off with a shrug, and as he left the room Anna, despite saying she didn't want to know hat was inside couldn't resist a peek, and just lifting one corner of the box she looked inside. Her eyebrows raised and a light gasp escaped her open mouth, and with that she closed the lid again.
Carefully wrapping the box back up and tying it with the same string she re-wrote the address on the top.
"There, all done," and with that she called out to David, "Just popping down the post office. I should catch the last post."
Placing the package on the scales, the postmistress said, "That's five pounds sixty-five air mail.”
Anna paid the fee and walked away, a big grin of satisfaction on her face, and saying to herself, "That's my good deed for the day."
Later that night, at the aircraft cargo area, stood a huge metal cage, and right at the top was a small brown paper package destined for the South of France.
***
The Parcel Page 10