Rescue in a Little Box
How long are you going to put up with this? the voice of my late Grandmum echoed again as I stepped into the lift of the sixteenstorey block on Oldham Road.
From the start things were off. James, my husband, had whisked me away as a schoolgirl, never let me finish any exams. He wanted me to stay home, get a drivers licence, which I finally managed thanks to his mate in the garage who taught me on the side.
I only left the flat when I had to, and that was just to pop some milk and bread for the fridge. The only other excuse for stepping out was to hang the washing out on the balcony.
James checked on me everywhere, even when I took out the rubbish. Hed make me keep my mobile in my jacket pocket, just in case he called.
Weekends starting Friday night were my nightmare. James would show up, demand dinner, and a frosty bottle of his favourite whisky would sit on the table. After the meal hed drag out his cruel jokes, sneering, Whats the matter, love? When will I have an heir? Hed linger in the kitchen, finish his whisky, and then stare at me, Wheres the beer?
I knew hed ask that, but I never bought any during the day, giving myself a precious twentyminute breather for a quick walk and a breath of fresh air.
Why are you so quiet? Grandmums voice pressed, pulling me from my thoughts as the lift shuddered between floors. Do you like the way he treats you?
No, I whispered, tears barely holding back, he wipes his feet on me.
And thats only the start, she warned, itll get worse. Do you want him to let you go?
Lord, no! my throat went dry, of course not.
Then run, love, run!
Where to? To mums flat with her new husband? To dads with his new wife? Im a cutoff piece, Grandmum. Ive got no one, my eyes burned, my nose ached.
Thats the point, being alone gives you total freedom, a chance to start afresh. Imagine if you were a mother, what would you do?
But where do I even begin? my eyes widened, round as saucers.
An opportunity will pop up soon. Dont miss it. Keep an eye out the window, youll see.
What will I see?
Ive told you enough. figure it out yourself, if youre not daft. The lifts moving now, dont be scared. Go get your beer, your dear husband. Oh, and one more thing rummage through the little box I left you after I passed. It isnt empty; it has a double bottom. Find whats inside, but dont let anyone see you. If you run, only take the contents, leave the box so James wont suspect youve fled.
Whats in it?
Answers to all your questions.
The lift jerked back to the ground floor. Even though Grandmums voice had warned me, I still shivered. I stepped out into a chilly evening, the snow melting into little streams. Nature was waking up; maybe I could too.
***
James had hammered himself on the kitchen table, snoring like a beast. While his snores rolled through the flat, I could sneak a look at the box without him noticing. It felt lighter than Id imagined, as if there was a hidden compartment. I shook it over the bed and a tumble of threads, needles, hooks, buttons and odd bits fell out the usual clutter you never touch.
When Id first gotten the box, James rolled his eyes and muttered, Ill toss it out. Your gran was a real character, leaving this old thing for you. No point keeping it.
I turned the wooden case over, feeling for a seam, a secret latch. Nothing. The wood was solid, but when I gave it a good shake something clinked against the sides. There had to be something.
I kept pressing at the little protrusions, but nothing gave. Grandmum stayed silent, waiting for me to figure it out on my own as she always did.
I sat on the doublebed, closed my eyes and ran my fingers over the lids carving. Suddenly a hidden panel snapped open and a tiny compartment jabbed into my stomach.
Inside I found an envelope, a set of keys and a handful of sachets with cheeky labels: Turn on the brain, Freeze the fear, Light up the focus, Dont be a fool, Kill the weak streak, Feed the meat and more. Grandmum always had a wild imagination; neighbours used to call her a witch, though she just baked pies and knitted socks. Nobody ever knew what she did when the building was empty.
I opened the envelope. Papers fell onto my lap deeds for a house. Grandmum had always talked about the old cottage she built herself, no nails, tucked away in the countryside. A note said a local watchman kept an eye on it. The deed now listed me, Emily, as the owner. Another document showed a car a ZAZ Zaporozhets with a foreign engine, a real antique in my dads garage.
The letter inside was written in tiny, looping script, sounding just like Grandmums voice:
Dear little one, the time has come to open the box. Everything I own, except the flat, is yours. If youre reading this, its your turn. Grab the papers, the boxs contents and the car. Leave now. Peace and happiness await you at the cottage. Money for the first few weeks is hidden in the glove compartment. After that youll have to earn it yourself. Maybe youll even go back to school. Love, Gran.
Shed known what James would do, which is why shed opposed our wedding. Even when I didnt listen, she never turned her back on me, and after she passed she still guided me.
I tucked the documents and the sachets into a folder, knowing Id have no time to think later just grab and run. The first instruction read: Take the Light up the focus packet, stir it into a glass of milk and drink. Dont throw the paper away, keep an eye on it. There were no other steps on the list.
The next morning, still halfasleep, I peered under the mattress and found the folder exactly where Id left it. The second note said: Drink a glass of milk on an empty stomach with the Dont be a fool powder.
I slipped into the kitchen, the snoring James still loud, poured the concoction, gulped it down, and opened the kitchen window for fresh air. Back in the bedroom I checked the folder again a third note: Dont trash the folder, youll meet trouble. In an hour have a cup of tea with the Kill the weak streak packet.
The fourth note, an hour later: Then have a coffee with the Feed the meat packet. Stay alert.
I followed every one of Grans odd little tasks. After the drinks I felt a surge of energy; my lanky, unathletic body seemed to fill with muscle. I stared at my reflection in the cracked mirror by the dresser I looked like a fit, athletic woman, not a gymnast but solid. My arms, legs, cheekbones, everything seemed tighter, stronger.
A thump on the floorboards made James sit up. He glared at me.
Where have you been?
Just, I stammered, trying to keep my cool.
Youve been working on something, havent you? A lover perhaps? he hissed, stepping toward me.
My heart pounded, but something inside clicked, a sudden confidence. He lunged, fists flying, but I ducked and blocked each blow with surprising ease. I twisted his arm, sent his hand snapping back, and finally landed a solid punch to his nose. Blood spurted, he crumpled to the floor, pale and gasping.
I looked at him, feeling no pity, no fear for his future. I grabbed the folder again.
The next instruction read: Well done, love. Look out the balcony, dress like youre going out, leave the balcony rail open. Put your bag by what you see, then drink a glass of juice with the Freeze the fear packet. When you collect the car, stop at the café, order a milkshake, add the Turn on the brain sachet. Leave the other packets alone for now. Get away fast. Gran.
I raced to the balcony, poured the powder into a orange juice, downed it, and stepped out. Below, on the pavement, lay a young girl, face down, hair and shoes exactly like mine. Shed slipped on the icy cobbles, no coat, just a thin sweater it was the first of March, bitter cold.
I couldnt help but think how strange it was that she looked just like me. I pulled on my own grey jeans and black tee, grabbed the folder, slipped my wallet inside, and fled the flat barefoot, shivering.
Behind a rubbish bin I found a sack with a pair of worn boots, a small puffer jacket not great but better than nothing. I stuffed them into my bag and ran.
I left the dead girls empty handbag on the doorstep as a red herring, then sprinted across the courtyard, searching for transport. No taxis yet, but a trolleybus rolled by. I hopped on, hoping for a change of direction, heading towards my grans cottage.
***
I rarely went into the office, but today I was lucky. The old security guard at the garage recognised me.
Evening, love. Whats with the junk? he asked, eyeing the papers.
Just need the car, I said. The Zaporozhets, that old thing.
He laughed, Right, Ill sort you a proper motor. Got the keys?
Of course. Uncle Colin, could I have a soda?
Sure, the vending machines over there. Pop it in and have a go.
I chugged the fizzy drink, bought a pair of cheap winter trainers and a cheap but decent jacket. The cash Id hidden in the glove compartment was enough for the first few weeks thanks, Gran.
I drove out of my dads workshop, the seat oddly comfortable, as if Gran had tweaked it. I waved at Uncle Colin, turned onto the A57, traffic a mix of old hatchbacks and modern SUVs.
You see the signs up there? Grans voice whispered in my head.
I do, I smiled.
Turn left at the roundabout, head for Sedgefield. Youll see what you need. Good luck, love.
I glanced in the rearview mirror there sat Gran, just as I remembered her: redhaired, wrapped in a fluffy scarf, smiling.
And with that, I hit the road, the boxs secrets tucked safely in my bag, my heart finally beating for my own future.
