The creaking of the large wooden front door opening echoed throughout the house as a man arrived home to his seemingly empty house. The other two occupants having left earlier for a day out to enjoy the beautiful weather. The shuffling of paper at his feet caught his attention as he looked down at the pile of letters littered around the floor beneath him. Charlie Weekes, Lydia Weekes and Cynthia Weekes' names could all be read over the envelopes around. Picking them up from the floor he walked to the large sitting room at the front of the house where he sat down in the comfiest chair he has ever owned and sorted through the mail. One letter in particular caught his eye, a white envelope with a stamp from Scotland in the top corner. On the front in a script Charlie had not laid eyes on in 20 years but knew all so well bore his name and address, although peculiarly did not contain the return address on the back he associated with this person, but an address in Ireland. His hands paused before he opened the letter and took the couple of small pages enclosed within and started reading with a held breath.
Charlie,
I'm not sure if you remember me, or if you even want to hear from me, but I hope this letter finds you well. It was instructed to be sent to you by a dear friend at a certain time after an event and I hope it made it, and in a timely manner.
I must admit I have been keeping tabs on you, and your mother, for many decades now. I have followed your career and personal life, (congratulations on the wedding, I wish you and your wife all the happiness in the world). I am so very proud of you, and I knew you would achieve great things in your life, I'm just sorry I wasn't there to witness it. That day on the platform was one of the hardest for me in my whole life, I missed you two dearly for so very long after, still do to this day.
Your life has been impressive and just as grand as I hoped it would be when I let you and your mother go that day. To see you enter the medical profession filled me with a great pride, and I knew you would do well. You are compassionate, caring, intelligent and adventurous. Also, if you may recall before you left, I asked you to come home one day, I'm hoping you will make an old woman happy and full-fill this promise made so long ago to an old friend.
So, with a heavy heart I have to reveal the reason for this letter after all these years. It is with great regret that the event I mentioned above was unfortunately my passing. My solicitor and dear friend Jim was instructed to send this on the day I crossed into the eternal light, so it would reach you to explain why I am now suddenly reaching out. As you may remember I am the only one of my family left and therefore have no one to pass down my family's legacy. You and your mum were my chosen, (even though far away), family and I could think of no one better or more deserving to leave my heritage to. My house, my father's medical practice, but above all my beloved bees all need someone worthy to care for them. Charlie, my best friend, I am asking if you will be this person? If you wish to accept, all the details are in a folder on my desk at the practice, it has all the relevant information you need to know and Jim's contact details.
I would understand if coming back here is too much to ask. If that is the case, I ask that you sell everything and use that money to help take care of your family, and especially my dear Lydia, for I still love her sooo much. The world was not ready for a love like ours, but I still cherish the small amount of time we were afforded in this world. I hope she ended up happy.
Sincerely your best friend,
Jean Markham
PS. The bees have missed your presence immensely, please come home to them. I have also included a letter for Lydia, only if she is strong enough to read it.
Charlie had tears streaming down his face and his hands were falling more and more towards the ground. Finally, with badly shaking hands the note slipped out of the weak grasp holding it captive and drifted the rest of the way to the floor. Gut wrenching sobs could be heard throughout the whole house, weeping for a woman who had such a big impact on his young life and the sole person responsible for where he ended up. She was and has always been his best friend, even from afar. He recalled the many times he had been meaning to go back to Dunbar, all the missed opportunity's to thank this beautiful woman who has given him so much to be where he is today. Charlie knew, even from when Jean first asked this of him that he'd accept, and do his damned hardest to keep this woman's legacy alive. He too had been keeping tabs on Jean, mainly for his mother's sake. But the responsibility placed on him to inform her of this tragedy seems too much to bear.
The sound of the front door opening pulls him out of his thoughts, laughter fills the rooms around as two women's voices echo through the house. His beloved mother and his darling wife come into view, both looking so carefree and happy. The mood soon turns somber as Lydia catches the sadness still painfully etched on her beloved sons face. Lydia is standing in front of him in an instant pulling him into a hug and asking the reason for his melancholy. Charlie doesn't speak for a while, just stares, the letter still on the floor in front of his feet. Eventually he seeks the courage to tell his mother to sit down as he has some news to share. Lydia is instantly worried, thoughts running through her head as to what could be wrong with her son, not wanting to believe anything that could shatter their happiness, oh how wrong she was.
'Mum, I have some news and I need you to listen to me before you start asking questions'. He waits for her to nod as confirmation before continuing.
'I received a letter this afternoon, from a solicitor. I have inherited a business, a house, money and land from a best friend who has recently passed away, and I must go to settle the estate and take over. However, this would involve us moving shall we all agree as they live a far stretch away, which I hope I can sincerely convince you both to so do with me'.
It was Cynthia who asked, 'where are we moving to?' She didn't mind as she had no family left, no job and no friends around Italy yet. Charlie looked straight at his mother; a look full of hesitation but also insistence before answering; 'Dunbar, Scotland'.