What's Left Behind—A Short Story

Callum sighed as he pulled open another stiff drawer to be greeted by another cloud of dust.

‘More personal belongings…’ he muttered to himself, as he carefully sifted through the contents. ‘If you can call them that…’

He hadn't been doing this job all that long, but this was the first house he was tasked with clearing out that lacked… personality. A reminder that someone lived here, once upon a time. He was used to tackling houses that had walls covered in fading photos - and reminders of families that were long gone…but not forgotten.

But this house… it seemed as if the person who lived here was forgotten. Maybe even by herself. Callum quickly checked the paperwork - a Claire Yates was the most recent occupier, died a month ago from a heart attack at 43. There were some extra notes, explaining that she never really left the house and to expect a lot to clear out. They weren't kidding. Although usually when his bosses left a note like that, it was in reference to knick-knacks, photo albums, or trinkets strewn around the house like a loud and extravagant treasure hunt, just for him.

Claire didn't seem to like loud or extravagant, though. Instead of trinkets and photos, the rooms were relatively bare. Like he said - no personality. If he didn't have his paperwork with him, he wouldn't even guess that a young woman lived here, once. Especially one that didn't leave the house much.

It was all very confusing. For one thing, he thought, as he yanked open a jammed drawer - Claire had far too much cutlery for someone who lived alone. Sure, they looked slightly dusted and unused, but each divider for forks, spoons, and knives, were almost full to the draws brim with piles of each, as if Claire used to host dinner parties nightly.

Photo by congerdesign on Pixabay

Strange… Callum thought for a moment, but who was he to judge. Sure, it might not make sense, but it wasn't as if that was the weirdest thing he'd found while clearing out homes of the deceased that had no family or friends to do so. Who was he to judge, when he didn't know these people beyond what they left behind in their homes when they died. Just because Claire didn't leave the house much didn't mean that she couldn't have had dinner parties every night. It was just a shame to see all of this cutlery, ready for guests… only for no one to turn up to help gather what was left of Claire's life. No, they left that duty to a complete stranger, who didn't know her beyond the clues of her sparse belongings that she left behind before she passed.

Callum sighed as he opened the next - and last - drawer, only to find it empty. He closed it, but before he could turn back to the cutlery collection, he only just avoided coughing as another cloud of dust danced menacingly towards him. Whatever the case, he always felt as heavy sadness in his chest when he was asked to clear out homes. Especially the emptier ones. Because everyone should have signs of life in their own homes, and friends and family who care about them.

But all that seemed evident as a reminder of Claire, whoever she was, was far too much cutlery, far too much dust, a small flat screen TV with a singular armchair facing it, a year or two old laptop that his bosses had already wiped to sell to pay off a very small loan, and a wardrobe of a few outfits that he'd already packed up. All in all, it wasn't much.

Callum turned back to the cutlery and started noting it down before loading it into bags. Forks, then spoons, then knives… and then, there was just emptiness… until Callum spotted a corner of paper sticking out from the back of the draw. His chest felt less heavy, for a moment, as he wondered what that paper could mean - a letter from a friend that he could try and contact, or maybe an invitation to a family reunion, planting her family tree in his mind, and allowing him to inform her relatives that Claire passed. Instead of being what he hoped, it was just a slightly faded flyer for a Chinese takeaway. Callum hadn't heard of it, but it was relatively local. He took a cursory look inside - Claire had circled the numbers 27 and 53 - not anything that he'd order, Callum thought, but in a way, it was good that she had some kind of contact with society… until he turned the flyer over and saw that Claire had scribbled ‘ask to leave it outside the door, knock, and leave. Then it's safe to get it if I'm quick ‘

Callum sighed as he traced the looped handwriting. He hoped that this was a positive sign; a sign that Claire had a life - but instead it was another reminder to Callum that Claire was very much alone.

And all he could feel was sadness for her as he noted down the flyer in his inventory before folding it back up and carefully placing it back in the drawer.

Then he looked around what used to be Claire's home. He had noted down everything and was ready to clear it all out. Not that it would take long, as all the items in the house fit into two boxes and one regular clothes bag - something that when he first started on the job, he assumed it was a bin bag. But no, thankfully Claire had some kind of dignity while the last remnants of her and her life were taken away.

Callum found himself sighing again. While his job wasn't the cheeriest, he always found himself feeling bittersweet as he cleared away other people's memories or prized possessions. But today, in Claire's house… he just felt quite bitter. Bitter at the fact that Claire was alone, even if she struggled to leave the house. That certainly wasn't a reason to be alone, and to die alone. And to leave an empty house for a stranger like Callum to clear out. It wasn't fair, and didn't feel right.

But what could he do about it? He reasoned. It was too late now, and all he could do for definite was his job, and to respect Claire during the time he was here.

So, he did. He spent a moment thinking about Claire, waiting anxiously for her delivery driver to leave before quickly collecting her food, sitting in her singular armchair, and then eating a Chinese takeaway in front of the TV with some of her cutlery collection. While he didn't know what she looked like, he imagined her as slight and delicate, her face worn with frown lines, and felt that bitterness again as his created image was topped off with Claire being full of sadness.

Even when trying to respect her, he couldn't ignore how sad this whole situation was. If only Claire had someone who cared about her, he thought. If only.

*

If only she wasn't so reliant on her habits, Claire might not be in this mess.

She had tried to order her weekly Chinese takeaway from the shop she used to be manager at - they knew her well enough to know that going outside made her feel dizzy and anxious - but when she called them, an unfamiliar voice answered.

Claire froze, and the young woman on the other end of the phone almost hung up on her before she could even get a word out.

‘I… I'd like my usual, please.’

‘Oh.’ The voice said, confused. ‘Sorry, I don't think we do ‘usuals.’ I'm new, so I don't… What do you usually order?’

Claire felt anxiety crawl up her body like water, slowly rising and ready to drown her. Her chest felt tight as she imagined this girl, rolling her eyes at her, mocking her, thinking she was ridiculous and stupid and an idiot…

Claire tried to take deep measured breaths as the girl on the phone stayed silent. But only for a moment.

‘Hello? Are you still there?’

‘Lily,’ Claire managed to say, before the anxiety pulled her under. ‘Is she working today?’

Claire could've sworn she heard a sigh on the other end of the phone, making her chest feel even tighter.

‘Um… Not today, sorry. Would you still like to order?’

Claire thought about how kind Lily was, and how she always had time for everyone… there's no way she trained this person. Claire thought about hanging up, before her stomach spoke for her with a low growl.

Let's just try and be brave - Claire thought, as she rattled through her usual order. Although she was about to mention if the delivery person could do a no contact drop-off before the girl on the other end of the phone thanked her and hung up.

Great, Claire thought. She might have to face even more anxiety late, but she needed food after all. And if she did have a panic attack, if she got through it, at least she could treat herself to a new antique silver spoon going up for auction from the 1800s she'd had her eye on for a while.

Everyone has their coping mechanisms, after all. Some people drink a glass of wine after a hard day – Claire, on the other hand, added to her spoon collection, and avoided as many of her triggers as possible, even if that meant staying inside. At first, her work colleagues encouraged the ‘survival treats,’ but as things got worse… As much as Claire loved her collection, she was more terrified of what could happen if she stepped outside, so she avoided it at all costs. She hadn't seen her colleagues in years. She missed them of course - but the fear was stronger.

It always was.

She felt her chest ache mercilessly, the vice around her tightening with every second of anticipation that she would have to open the door that she usually kept safely locked and step out into the world to retrieve her food rather than just grab it from her doorstep and close the door as soon as possible. She'd have to see someone, and they'd see her, and judge her…

Claire took a shaky breath amidst the fierce water that was still drowning her and waited patiently for that dreaded knock.

She used to deny she was unwell at first, but now it was undeniable. The last time she took a step outside was 6 years ago, and just the thought of doing it again made her feel faint. She couldn't even explain why, but after witnessing someone choking at her restaurant and having them taken to hospital… it made her realise how unsafe and dangerous the world really was. And that she couldn't risk being around it anymore. Just in case.

When the door did knock, it was so suddenly and loud that it made her jump.

She walked towards it slowly, her hands shaking as she opened the door. The sun hit her first, obscuring her sight with a fierce and warm light.

And the next thing she knew, she was in an ambulance. Apparently, they had to sedate her the majority of the time she was in hospital, she was so inconsolable. She was told this later by her consultant, on the phone. She initially fainted, but the takeaway worker who delivered her food struggled to find her pulse and dialed 999.

The doctors found a severe vitamin B12 and vitamin D deficiency and kept her in for a few days to observe her. Claire hated how… pitying the doctor sounded as he spoke, as he mentioned something about her being super tense. She wasn't sure - it was difficult to hear what he was saying beyond the fact that he clearly felt sorry for her. She was glad she barely remembered the time spent outside of the safety of her house.

And as for the prescription for those pills the doctor gave her… he didn't seem to care that she'd have to physically visit the chemist since she couldn't get such ‘urgent’ medication delivered.

Just the idea of opening the door again… she couldn't even think about it without feeling faint, again.

She just couldn't face it. And anyway, she would much rather spend the money on that spoon she was eyeing. She could always try and eat better, right? There were other ways to get more vitamins. She can't be that unwell.

They'd let her go home, after all - so she might as well celebrate it.

What's the worst that could happen?

*

Callum took one last look around the house after he loaded the last of Claire's things into his van. Even though there weren't that many items in the house in the first place, it now felt strangely empty to him. As empty as her life likely was. The poor woman, alone and forgotten…

He was so distracted that he felt as if he was walking around his flat on autopilot. By the time he realised he'd spent his evening sat on the sofa ignoring the growl of his stomach, he felt far too hungry to wait for something to finish cooking.

Suddenly, and idea entered his mind like a flash of lighting, and he knew exactly what to do. Recalling the number, he called the Chinese takeaway from the flyer he found at Claire's.

Thankfully they picked up quickly, and before he could really think about it, he found himself ordering a 27 and a 53 and agreeing to pay extra for delivery since he lived a little further away than the places they usually delivered to. It was no problem.

Photo by arsenalizedritesh100 on Pixabay

Callum hung up before he realised the strangeness of what he was doing - ordering from a dead stranger's favourite takeaway? What was he thinking? He wasn't thinking of anything but his grumbling stomach, honestly - and it wasn't too weird, he considered. It was just food.

And not just any food - good food, he realised, as he rushed to open his front door after it knocked and the mixture of pleasant smells hit him as soon as he cracked the door open. His stomach spoke for him before he could, making the woman holding his food laugh.

‘Sorry!’ She said, ‘but it sounds like you're hungry, eh?’

Callum felt his face get hot. ‘Yeah, you could say that. Thanks for being so quick.’

‘No worries!’ The woman smiled. ‘Our old boss helped move things around so we could deliver things quicker.’

‘Oh, great,’ Callum said, as the woman handed him the carrier bag that was brimming with the beautifully pungent food.

‘Yeah…’ the woman said, her smile fading as she appeared to be lost in memories. ‘She passed away recently. So suddenly, but she'd been… unwell, for a while. We've missed her for a long time, before she died. She didn't leave the house much.’

Callum almost dropped his food in shock. ‘Was her name Claire, by any chance?’

The woman’s face shifted into surprise. ‘It was! Did you know her?’

‘Something like that,’ Callum said. He thought of all the things he wanted to ask this woman - and all the things he wanted to know about Claire…

‘Maybe you could visit the restaurant sometime?’ The woman said. ‘I'm Lily. I was her friend for a long time - for the whole time I've worked here.’ Lily passed Callum an identical flyer to the one that used to belong to Claire, only brighter. ‘We’d love the chance to remember her. We got some new staff recently and those of us who worked with her… Well, it feels like we're the only people who got to know her, really. …And it shouldn't be like that.’

‘Sounds good,’ said Callum. ‘And no, I agree. It shouldn't.’

After Callum agreed to visit the restaurant next week - Lily kindly offered that when he did, his meal would be on the house - he sat down on his sofa and ate some of the best food he'd ever eaten in his life.

And later, just before he was going to sink into sleep... he thought about how someone like Claire wouldn't be forgotten - that others refused to forget her even if she tried to forget the outside world existed… He realised he shouldn't have judged her. Things aren't always as they seem, he realised this alongside the fact that he had never in his life felt so full.