You Are Not Alone - (Part 2 of 2)

Liam sat nursing his fourth, maybe fifth, whisky glass, he had lost count, and honestly couldn’t care less. The great hall was sunk in darkness so he cannot see the judging eyes of the paintings staring at him.

All his ancestors, his fore-bearers, all the people that had put their blood and sweat, into building and maintaining the family wealth, that had invested their hopes and dreams into a future he now had burned to a crisp.

The darkness inside felt so much more blinding than the one around him.

There was nothing to do now, just lay down and die. And he could not even do that, the world would not let him and he had the health of an ox. No other option than to drown the ox in whisky and put him down to sleep.

A loud bang on the entrance door made Liam jump up.

It can’t be them! They had been paid. It was all sorted out with the government, there was nothing they had on him now.

The bang could be heard again, followed by the hysterical shrill of the doorbell. God, how he hated that doorbell! He got up, wobbled a little, but then regained his lord of the manor composure and went to the door.

‘Who is it?’, he asked raising his voice close to the door. He was all alone in the huge house and was apprehensive about opening the door. Everybody says not to open the door if you are not expecting somebody.

He could hear a voice saying something, but could not make out the words.

‘What? Oh, for Christ’s sake!’, Liam flung open the door to be faced by an old, decrepit man wrapped in a black wool coat.

The old man seemed so benign that Liam’ apprehension vanished and was replaced by curiosity.

‘Can I help you?’, his voice had the slight tinge of drunkenness, but somehow Liam still managed to keep his composure.

‘You can let me into my house, that you can do!’, and the man passed Liam heading to the large hall before the latter even had a chance to compute what was happening.

‘Hey, come back here!’, Liam ran after the old man letting the door close behind him.

When Liam got in the large room where he had been before, he was now welcomed by a flood of lights and the old man sat in a deep chair under his grandfather’s portrait.

‘You cannot be here, you have to leave! I will call the Guards!’, his voice had a high pitch that reminded him of the shrieking doorbell.

‘Oh don’t bother, I will be gone soon enough!’

The old man adjusted his position to better catch the light.

‘I love what you did with the place! Your grandmother would have loved it! She was always going on about how cold it was! Women! They seem to always be cold, don’t they?’

The old man was pinning down Liam with his blue faded eyes.

‘My grandmother? Why would she speak to you …? How could she …?’, Liam felt a huge headache coming on and let himself slide into the soft leather library chair.

‘What are you on about old man?’

And then, right at that moment a ray of light parted the fumes in his brain and the lightning of recognition struck him.

‘Grandad?’

The old man did not approve or disapprove, he just sat there looking at Liam processing the information.

‘But you are dead. A long time ago… ‘, Liam looked at his empty whisky glass and closed his eyes tight. Not such a good idea as he felt himself going dizzy.

‘That I am, that I am. I thought to come and visit, see what you did to the place. I have to say, you did a good job!’

Liam felt his head pounding and was not phased by the fact that his dead grandfather was using words that had not existed when he was alive. He was though, unexpectedly, pleased by the compliment.

‘Really? You like it?’, he felt like a small boy looking for approval.

‘I sure do! It must have cost you a lot!’

Liam’s face darkened.

In the silence that followed only a rhythmic ticking could be heard from a clock somewhere high on the fireplace.

‘So, how’s the family?’

Liam was surprised by the question.

‘I …, I do not have a family of my own, I mean I am seeing somebody, but I am not sure she would want to marry me now I am penniless.’

The old man peered at him from under white, wiry eyebrows.

‘Penniless?’, his voice asked the question in such a manner that one felt there was no other option but to answer.

‘I am so sorry! I am so sorry! The house! Everything! It’s gone! I lost it!’, Liam’s outburst filled the room with resounding sound that echoed in the great hall.

‘Sorry… gone… lost…’

‘Liam my son, I need you to tell me what you mean. Talk me through it from the beginning.’

Liam regained his composure and after pouring a whisky for each of them, he went on to tell his grandfather the story. He did not leave anything out, what his intentions had been, how he had been sure he will be able to pay back, and then Covid, and then lockdowns, and then mounting building costs, and increasing rates. No travel for the longest time. It was just impossible for him to do anything, he could not predict this would happen, nobody could. It had been just one of those once in a lifetime (hopefully, and he knocked on wood and made the cross sign) freak events and he was on the wrong side of it.

Through all the story his grandfather listened, nodded and smiled a supporting smile. When he was finished the old man put his empty glass aside.

‘What now?’, his voice was ethereal, like it came from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Liam looked down at his shoes forced to admit to himself the unbearable truth.

‘Now it is all lost. The house no longer belongs to the family, it will become a musem, a memorial house for all those that passed through and the events that took place here. Me, I can live rent free in the gate lodge, but when I die it too will belong to the government … There is nothing more …’

The old man seemed to consider his next words carefully.

‘You have preserved this house for the next hundreds of years. You turned it from a crumbling, old mausoleum in a jewel of a place that stands proud carrying on our history. I think you did well. And being able to live in the gate lodge rent free, well that is just like winning the lotto, isn’t it?’

Liam looked up not sure if he was being made fun of or not.

‘Do you know,’, the old man went on, ‘that me and your gran used to go to the gate lodge to get rid of everybody. That was our special place and what a happy place it has been. I am happy you will live in it!’

With those words he got up and started walking towards the door.

Liam watched him still in a daze of confusion.

‘You did well. Now, move on and make something of yourself!’

And he was gone.

Liam fell asleep in the big library chair sedated by too much whisky and confused by the events that took place.

When he woke up he had a splitting headache and the notion that his story was not yet over. He had done the best he could, and that is all one ever can do isn’t it?

***

The phone vibrated on the bedside table and a grumpy Teresa answered it putting it on the speaker.

‘Teresa! You did it! The cards have changed!’, Maggie’s excited voice filled the room while Teresa was still trying to wake up properly.

‘Super!’, the tone did not do justice to the word.

‘You were sleeping! Oh, sorry! I was just so happy I had to call you! Go back to sleep, text me later!’

And she hung up without waiting for any kind of reply.

Teresa turned her back to the phone and snuggled in the oversized duvet going back to a deep, happy sleep induced by the satisfaction of a job well done.

‘You did well too Maggie.’, she whispered to the witch dancing in her small cottage all the way across town.