Writing for Fun
October 2022 - Diane Silverston
The Vase
There it stood. Just as it had been for the last 60 years or more. Gerry couldn’t remember it ever being moved but assumed it had been, to be washed, or the shelf dusted.
There it stood, the only thing in the small niche beside the fireplace. No one seemed to know when it had been placed there or by whom?
It wasn’t exactly a pretty vase, interesting perhaps, but not what most people would consider attractive. Very little colour, a very plain shape but an unusual pattern on the front. It couldn’t hold anything, not useful as a flower vase. Why had it been given pride of place? Who had loved it so much?
Gerry, was an only child of elderly parents. Her Father had died 10 years ago and her mother just recently. She had inherited the house and all the contents.
The family had lived here for several generations. Gerry could remember her old Grandmother sitting in her rocking chair by the fireside. Was she the original owner of the vase? Nobody had ever spoken about it, or even held it. Was it precious? What was its history?
Gerry wasn’t sure what she was going to do about her inheritance, but knew whatever her decision, a lot of sorting out and clearing needed to be done. Every room was full of objects passed down the generations. She moved away from the fireplace, went to her car, collected the boxes she had brought with her. Where would she start? She decided upstairs would be best. 4 bedrooms. The bathroom and the attic.
Many hours and boxes later, the attic was emptied, the 3 spare bedrooms cleared apart from the beds, wardrobes and dressing tables. The bathroom cabinets emptied of the various pills and potion bottles. Some rubbish bags had been put out but a lot of the stuff was in the garage to be sorted later.
Gerry decided to have a cup of coffee and sit down for a while before tackling the downstairs rooms. Once settled in the rocking chair by the fireplace, she looked round the lounge, so much furniture and things she remembered from her grandmother’s time, things that her mother and father had added. What was she going to do with it all?
She glanced towards the fireplace. She noticed the vase again. There it was, just standing where it always had been. She took it from its niche, and looked at it more carefully. A pale yellow with a gold rim, a strange mythical creature painted on the front. Where had it come from? Who had brought it into the house?
Gerry noticed that the vase was heavier than she had expected it to be. Suddenly she heard a sound which appeared to come from inside the vase. She looked in, there definitely was something there. What could it be? She tipped the vase carefully and into her lap fell a small wrapped parcel and an envelope.
Gerry felt a strange feeling come over her. Why had these things been hidden in the vase? Was this someone’s secret? Whose? She put the parcel to one side but opened the letter. Dated 1914 it was addressed to Ethel (her Grandmother) from James. Who was James? Not a name she had heard attached to her family. It was a love letter, saying that he had really enjoyed being with her, especially finding the unusual vase which he had bought for her. Ethel and James had obviously known each other well. That explained why the vase was so important to her. Ethel had been 18 in 1914, how old had James been? What had happened to him?
Gerry took the small parcel and opened it up. There was a pocket watch and an official letter in it. It stated that Major James Mitchell had been killed in action on 22nd September 1915.
Gerry felt so sad, her poor Grandmother. She must have been devasted. That was why she had kept the watch and his letter so safe in the vase and near her. No intrinsic value but great sentimental value.
Gerry carefully put the watch and letters back in the vase and placed it back in its niche. There it would stay. She decided she would keep the cottage and its contents. She worked from home anyway and could give up her rented flat and move here. She would live amongst her family heirlooms and memories.