The house phone was ringing as Sofija walked into the flat, frost clinging to her heavy winter coat. Tossing her keys on the foyer table she quickly picked up on the third ring."Yes, hello," she answered in a soft Eastern European accent as she pulled her mobile from a pocket. Two missed calls.
"Sofija, it's Henry Morton, I've got a listing I want to show you, a last-minute cancellation. Are you available tomorrow morning?" Sofija sighed; it had been a long day and her train was delayed coming out of the city. She was also growing weary of the property hunt; the affordable ones were gone almost as soon as they were listed and the rest were rubbish.
"Please to send listing first?" she asked in somewhat broken English.
"Yes, I can certainly do that although the photos won't do the flat justice. It's also in a rather, urm, unique location. But the views are lovely and the area quite peaceful. Lots of tranquility. You wrote that on your wish list, remember? "A quiet and tranquil setting to shut the world away." Sofija thought for a moment, instantly intrigued, although characteristically reticent.
"Okay, will let you know," she replied, kicking off her heels and grabbing a bottle of Saint-Émilion from the kitchen. As she settled into the sofa her email pinged and a link appeared: mortonandsonsestateagents.co.uk/geraldsway. Sofija shuddered; Gerald had been her late father's Christian name. Taking a sip of wine, she clicked on the link and instantly found herself immersed in a landscape dotted with familiar structures rising like serpents from a misty sea. There were few property details other than one photo showing a block of unfinished flats and prices. Sofija rang Henry's mobile.
"There are not many photos, Henry and just a bit of, how you say, jargon? I see the view, it is nice. The building is called, "Gerald's Way"? But why so inexpensive?"
"The property is actually still being renovated and it faces an abandoned cemetery, or rather a decommissioned one, if that's the correct term. No more room at the inn, so-to-speak. That's why the developers were able to buy the adjacent property for pennies on the pound. Some people might find that a bit off-putting but the price makes up for any superstition in my opinion; I assume that was the reason for the last-minute cancellation." Sofija sat thinking for a moment and then clicked another link from the menu.
"Okay, Google says is near to Hartford station and motorway, very close to town." She set a time to meet Henry the next morning just as she heard a key threading into the lock and her husband walked in, equally chilled to the bone.
"Hello, darling, filthy weather and the bloody trains were delayed again." The normally sanguine Robert was annoyed at British Rail, the awful English weather and his Majesty's government, not particularly in that order. Dropping his coat and brolly in the entry way, Robert walked into the small kitchen and picked up a wine glass and the bottle.
"Top up?" he asked, tilting the bottle towards her. She nodded, holding out her glass.
"Please to sit, there is news. Henry has flat for us to see." Sofija, wasting no time, turned the laptop to face Robert.
"What am I looking at?" he asked, blinking as if there was something hidden within the screen."
"Peace and tranquility," Sofija answered rather sarcastically, "is actually block of flats near Hartford station." Robert glanced over at the cost of the last available flat.
"What's the catch?"
"Is near to cemetery," she answered, knowing what he would say next.
"I thought you hated cemeteries, that they reminded you of the war." Robert leant closer to the screen and squinted at the property name. "Gerald's Way? This is either a blessing or a curse."
"I know, but think is blessing, is Papa looking after me." Sofija's hand hovered over the keyboard as she thought about her late father. "We must look; is sign." Sofija grasped the gold locket that hung from her neck, the one he had given her that last morning. She looked into Robert's eyes, trying to gage his sentiment; he could be overly protective at times. Sofija silently prayed Gerald's Way was a sign; she had to know.
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"Just look at that killer view, no pun intended," Henry asked as they stood on a second floor terrace overlooking "Gerald's Way Cemetery".
"Does anyone actually know who this Gerald chap was? I mean, who names a cemetery after just one person? If that's the case he should've had the whole place to himself." Sofija shot Robert a look. He possessed a rather macabre sense of humour whose filter often failed him.
"I've no idea about Gerald but what do you both think about the property? There isn't much time; there are people dying to live here," Henry joked but was completely serious.
"Henry, please, stop with dead jokes." Sofija was beginning to think this wasn't such a good idea, buying a flat across from an abandoned cemetery, the price notwithstanding. And what about her memories of the war? They were tugging at her, fighting with her overwhelming urge to move on with her life.
"I'm beginning to wonder the same thing," agreed Robert, "this could be one long trigger for your mental health, darling. We need to think seriously about this." He took her hand in his and squeezed it. She had been through so much and had worked too hard to risk regressing for the sake of a silly flat. Sofija took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before looking down at her locket. She read the inscription aloud in Serbian, "Ako sa žaljenjem gledate unazad, nikada ne možete gledati napred sa nadom."
"If you look backward with sorrow, you will never look forward with hope." She turned to face Robert.
"My darling, is time for me to start living again."
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In my voluteer role supporting people with mental health issues I spend a great deal of time explaining to people that they always have a choice how to interpret things, and that avoiding the future because something bad happened in your past gets you nowhere, so this story resonnated with me. Good job.
