Behind Lock and Key
When I was a child, I had burned with curiosity hotter than the sun. If there was any sort of mystery, I just had to channel my best Nancy Drew and solve the case ASAP.
If someone had put the milk carton back in the fridge with no milk, I would track down the culprit and ensure they got suitably chastised. My dad was left with red ears after the tongue lashing my mum gave to him that day.
He had given me some serious side eye once mum's back was turned. "How did you even figure out it was me?"
"Well mum had toast and a glass of water this morning, bypassing her usual cup of tea as she had a migraine. I know for a fact that I didn't use the rest of the milk. And the only other person in the house between last night, when the carton still contained milk, and this morning when it was empty, was you, dad".
Dad immediately grumbled.
And most of my proceeding cases followed in a similar fashion for a while until along a bigger mystery. Bigger than anything I had ever come across in my one-month career as a newly minted child detective.
My grandparents had a room in their house that was kept under lock and key. They said it was an office but neither of them worked or had use for an office. So why the secrecy?
Neither of them would even tell my parents what they kept in there, merely said it was none of their business. Was it really an office? Was it a secret bat cave? Was my grandpa moonlighting as a caped vigilante? I had to know!
I had tried to break in numerous times to no avail.
On one memorable occasion, I tried to burst in through the window from the outside.
“Holly Katherine Stone! What do you think you’re doing?” my grandmother stormed outside with a face like thunder, her pink dyed hair whipping behind her like wild candy floss.
“Err, checking the window locks?” I gave her my best innocent expression, hiding the rock behind my back that I had been about to try tossing through the window.
By the look on her face, I don’t think my grandmother bought it.
“Inside now!”
From that day on, I was never allowed anywhere at my grandparents without one or both keeping a close eye on me. The trust was lost unfortunately. They loved me but I had proven to be an unrelenting menace when I wanted to be.
I couldn’t blame them for the amped up security, so I gave up on actively trying to burst in. Instead, I tried a sneakier approach. I tried to trick them into letting something slip!
“Are you keeping a dead body in there? Did you kill someone?!” ten-year-old me questioned with all the subtly and investigative finesse of a wrecking ball.
“Yes, darling. That’s our body room where we keep the corpses of our enemies”, my grandmother sassed. I almost believed her for a moment until I saw the twinkle of mischief in her eyes.
Clearly, she was not going to be tricked by my incredible interrogation tactics.
I tried my grandfather instead. He was smart but not quite as astute as my grandmother was.
“So, grandad, what’s in your secret room? Is it government secrets?!” I inquired as confident as a seasoned investigator.
My grandfather side eyed me as he poured himself a coffee. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you”, he responded dryly.
So, no luck with grandad either then, I’d thought with frustration. My continued investigative efforts were then thwarted by my dad taking a job further down South and forcing us to leave our hometown and grandparents behind.
All those years, even as a teenager and a young adult, I never stopped wondering about that room. It drove me crazy. I had to know what was in that room but no number of questions over millions of phone calls could ever get either grandparent to spill. I think it had become an inside joke or a game to them at this point.
Then the Summer of my twenty first birthday, my grandad passed away and with it, my burning desire to know what was in the secret room. My grandmother became withdrawn and depressed and suddenly the whole thing seemed silly and unimportant.
Time went by and thoughts of the secret room left my mind entirely. I married and had a child. When my son was three, however, my grandmother passed away and my mum insisted I had to help her clean out my grandparents’ house.
It was on that day that I finally learned what was in that secret room. I’d given up on the thought of it entirely until I came across a letter and a set of keys as I packed up my grandparent’s old bedroom.
Dear Holly,
If you’re reading this then I’ve joined your grandfather on our next adventure. Don’t be sad, darling, I’m at peace now and reunited with my love. I will watch over you all your life and little Jayden too.
As you well know, it was always a source of never-ending amusement for your grandad and I to refuse to tell you or your parents what we kept in our ‘office’. To be honest, it’s nothing quite as exciting as a dead body, I’m afraid to tell you.
Still, what’s in there might come as a bit of a shock.
There is another letter inside of that room to be read after you have made your discoveries.
With much love,
Grandma Ethel.
As my mother cleaned and packed up the kitchen, I made my way to the mysterious room with shaking hands and uneven breathing. My stomach clenched with a mix of excitement and anxiety as I got closer and closer to the door.
I pushed in the key and turned.
The door opened a crack and I suddenly wondered if I could bring myself to do this. If I stepped one foot in that room, it would be final. My grandmother would be truly gone.
The crushing weight of my grief paralysed me for a good minute until I forced myself to take a breath. I had to do this or else I’d never bring myself to go in there.
I pushed the door opened and stepped inside.
To my surprise the room did in fact look like an actual office with bookshelves filled with modern and classic literature alike and a large wooden desk in front of the window. Artwork hung from the walls adding a splash of life to the otherwise beige room.
On the desk was a big, retro computer, the kind that hadn’t been in popular use since like the eighties.
I didn’t even know my grandparents had a computer.
I sat in the plush desk chair that was positioned in front of the computer and switched the machine on.
I blinked in surprise as it asked for a password.
Was I supposed to guess it?
Perhaps it was time I put my Nancy Drew skirt back on and got to investigating.
I eyed the room carefully, wondering if my grandparents left any sort of clue as to what the password was. There didn’t seem to be anything out of place, no papers left lying around, no obvious clues to decipher.
Then I saw it. There was a book just slightly misaligned on the shelf. My grandma would never leave anything remotely out of place like that and I knew for a fact neither of my parents had entered the room yet. I was the first to find the letter and keys.
I pulled the book of the shelf and laughed. It was a leather-bound copy of Sherlock Holmes. Inside was a piece of paper.
PASSWORD: HKS1982
It was literally my initials and birth year. I quickly typed it into the computer and waited as the old machine booted up.
I had no idea what secrets I was about to uncover on this ancient piece of technology, but my heart felt like it was dancing in my chest from giddy excitement. Finally, I would discover what my grandparents felt they had to keep under lock and key…literally.
The screen flashed with an image of a floppy disc, and I vaguely recalled my high school I.T teacher discussing how old computers worked and the use of floppy discs. I bet no one born later than ’99 really knew what floppy discs even were. To them it was just a save icon. But I was a child of the 80’s and a teenager in the 90’s and my dad used floppy discs all the time on his own computer.
I opened the desk drawer and spotted a single, lone floppy disc awaiting me. I pulled it out and popped it into the disc slot.
The white screen turned blue and showed me file symbols that must contain whatever my grandparents had recorded to this machine.
This truly was a blast from the past, I mused as a window opened.
TO OUR FAMILY ON THE OCCASION OF THE TWO OF US PASSING,
I KNOW MOST OF YOU WILL NOT BOTHER TO HELP PEGGY OUT WITH THE FUNERAL ARRANGEMENTS AND PACKING UP OUR THINGS.
THE REST OF YOU BESIDES FROM PEGGY, MARK AND HOLLY NEVER REALLY BOTHERED TO VISIT OR ANSWER THE PHONE.
KNOWING CLARE AND DAVID, YOU TWO WILL SHOW UP ONLY TO SEE IF YOU WERE LEFT SOMETHING IN THE WILL AND THEREFORE ARE UNLIKELY TO SEE THIS. A SHAME SINCE WE DECIDED AGAINST LEAVING OUR VALUABLES AND WEALTH IN A LEGAL WILL THAT COULD BE CONTESTED.
INSTEAD, WE REQUEST THAT HOLLY (AS WE BOTH KNOW BY NOW YOU WILL BE THE MOST LIKELY TO FIND THIS! OUR LITTLE DETECTIVE!) KEEPS THIS COMPUTER AND OUR MESSAGE BETWEEN HERSELF, PEGGY, MARK AND HER FAMILY.
NOW ONTO THE IMPORTANT PART OF THE MESSAGE. YOU WILL FIND A SURPRISE IN A SECRET VAULT BUILT INTO THE WALL BEHIND THE PAINTING OF A VASE OF LILLIES. THEY ALWAYS WERE YOUR GRANDMOTHER’S FAVOURITE.
PLEASE ENJOY THE SURPRISE AND ENSURE THAT CLARE AND DAVID DO NOT HEAR ABOUT THIS OR THEY WILL LIKELY TRY TO CONVINCE YOU TO SHARE. UNLESS THE TWO OF THEM SHOWED UP TODAY TO HELP YOU AND YOUR MOTHER (AND HUSBANDS), THEY DO NOT GET A PENNY.
THE PASSWORD TO THE VAULT IS THE SAME AS THE
COMPUTER.
SINCERELY,
GRANDAD TIM AND GRANDMA ESTHER.
Tears spilled down my cheeks as I finished reading the final words my grandparents would ever say (or write) to me. My Uncle David and Aunt Clare hadn’t really spoken to my grandparents in years, both far too involved with themselves to bother with their aging parents.
They might have received something if they hadn’t spent the last few years calling only to check if the will was up to date and they were in it.
I would respect my grandparents wishes, I decided.
After all, it was their decision not to show up today even after my mother begged and pleaded. In the end, dad had to take a week off work to help her while my husband took care of our son when he wasn’t in nursery.
“You two really had a secret vault in your secret room”, I wondered out loud as I approached the painting that was hung on the wall opposite the bookshelves.
To my surprise, I found that the painting easily swung forwards like a door, exposing the small hole in the wall that contained the vault.
Half of me wondered if they had gone to all this effort because they knew my little self was so enthralled with the possibilities that this room could contain.
Maybe it was only used for storage back then, but it became something wonderous to remind me of them after they were gone.
I wiped away another tear and entered the password to the vault.
The door opened and my mouth dropped open.
What the actual fuck?!
Like I was in some sort of bank heist movie, there were bricks and bricks of money stacked atop of each other. On top of the money was some jewellery and another letter.
On the envelope it said OUR UNOFFICIAL WILL.
Instead of opening it, I called out for my mother who stepped into the formerly closed room with a look of trepidation. I think she feared that an actual dead body might pop up in front of her and eat her brains…or perhaps something less cheesy 80’s horror movie.
“What’s going on, Holly?” Mum asked in a low voice.
I showed her the message on the computer screen and then the vault.
“Oh, bloody hell, mum”, My mum cursed. “Does she think we’re in an episode of Duck Tales or something?”
“Now I’m picturing grandad dressed in a top hat and monocle ”, I blurted out and both me and my mum cracked up laughing even as tears fell down our cheeks.
“Knowing your grandparents, they’re probably having a right laugh at us up there”, Mum said, when she could finally catch her breath.
“So do we open it?” I asked, showing her the ‘will’.
“Might as well get on with it”, Mum agreed and watched as I unsealed the envelope and pulled out a long piece of paper with printed text.
“This says, to our daughter Peggy, we bequeath her mum’s diamond necklace and her engagement ring to be passed down to any future grandchildren someday. We also leave her the sum of eight hundred pounds to treat herself to something nice and one thousand to go towards funeral costs. To Holly, we leave you grandma’s antique earrings and a few necklaces and rings. We also leave you eight hundred pounds to treat yourself and to little Jayden, we leave one thousand and two hundred pounds for all the birthdays and Christmases we will miss. Make sure to treat him to something fun! Love Mum and Dad, Grandma and Grandad”.
“Oh mum”, My mum cradled the diamond necklace with sadness. “She knew I always liked this necklace. When I was little, I’d always ‘borrow it’ for dress up. Clare will be fuming, she always liked to say she had dibs being the oldest”.
“Aunt Clare can get stuffed”, I retorted. “She forces her boyfriend to buy her enough fancy necklaces. This means something to you”.
We fell into quiet contemplation for a moment as we stared at the letter, money and jewellery, thinking of my grandparents. “Well one thing’s for sure”, my mum broke the silence. “No one’s ever going to beat your grandparents in making a will”.
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