This is a serialized novel.
29th December, 2017
02:08 PM GMT
Since it was the last day before the New Year’s weekend, Goldman Sachs had closed up early and so Elizabeth got on her tiring Underground ride home a bit earlier than usual. She was almost lucky to get the Tube leaving at 02:12 PM. Not much of a relief as it seemed like the rest of London had gotten off early too and the snow had been to work at solidifying the street and making her regret her high heels shoes terribly.
After the hustle and bustle of the 31 minute ride to Camden Road, she got out and walked (slid, skipped, skidded, skated) over the last few meters before she reached haven/home.
But, as Elizabeth reached home, there was a delivery waiting for her. A decent sized cardboard box, with a neatly tied blue bow and no labels, but with her name on a piece of paper stuck with a single piece of tape on one corner. It was for her, but it wasn’t really for her…
It wasn’t her birthday for a few months and she hadn’t ordered anything either. And the time for Christmas gifts was long over. And New Year was just not a time for presents, at least not so far in her life.
She gingerly opened her door, stepped into the threshold and sat down inside her home, next to the box on her door mat. And then she prodded the box (what if it had a couple of puppies or a kitten?), but nothing happened. So, she got up and closed the door and went inside and had a glass of water, all the while thinking who would send her anything? It was not like she was on talking terms with her uncle who was in Arizona, USA, and he was the only living relation she had, whom she knew about. Dad had left her mum, just before she was born and he had passed away a few years before mum did… which was again, 7 years ago. Well, whoever left it would definitely be back to pick it up, because she definitely didn’t need it, because she most definitely didn’t know what it was nor who it came from. Ugh. The temptation! The curiosity!
So, she went out… and stood there taking a long, long look at the box. And walked back in and shut the door.
And went right out and took the box in and kept it on her dining table, a dainty work of carved metal topped with a slab of marble. And stood looking at it again. And so, she finally opened it.
There was something wrapped up in tissue paper. But what was more important was the letter perched on top of it. It was a folded piece of paper. She opened it up and in beautifully typed letters it was said, “With regards, Natoshi”. She read it in disbelief.
She was tired and this was really the end of it. A practical prank by one of her colleagues? And what was inside the tissue paper? More tissue paper? Or garbage bags?
And Natoshi? The “Natoshi”? The Natoshi Sakamoto? What did he have to do with her? Why would he even have to contact her?
While her conscience was rushing through these questions and her mind was trying to make sense and bring back peace and a more stable heart rate, her hands had lightly brushed away the tissue paper to see what was inside. And her heart basically did the equivalent of an emergency brake on the bullet train as she saw the same light blue jacket, with the sky blue trim and wooden buttons that she had been obsessing over for weeks.
And there was another note beneath the jacket.
“Good luck on your forex application. I have sent you the answers to your questions.”
Either there was a really powerful earthquake or something suddenly went wrong with the earth’s rotation because all Elizabeth could do was crash on her beanbag as her mind and body just gave up trying to make sense.
This is a serialized novel.