Red Letter

Letter

A red letter day! I wonder how many of you have questioned the origins of this saying. Of course we all understand that it means something good or important has or will happen. Consulting the oracle (wiki) I found that important days on a calendar were marked in red, and even Chaucer had commented upon it. Strangely I had noticed when looking at my calendar this morning today was indeed marked in red. Being late as usual for my dental appointment I had no time to investigate its relevance.

Still enough of this prevarication, to the point. So the dentist was awaiting my arrival, he knew I would be late so my appointment was a moveable feast. I missed the bus, of course. The next one half an hour away so no option but to walk. The high street was crowded, having to dodge mobility scooters, prams, pushchairs and the inevitable groups of teenagers holding nonsensical conversations in the middle of the pavement. And then an elderly lady bumped into me, smiled held out a red envelope and said ‘Please take this!’ Before I had time to return it, knowing it would be some sort of advertising rubbish, she had disappeared into the melee. I could see in the distance her red coat, she turned, waved and gave me a sad smile and then was gone. Stuffing the envelope into my pocket I continued on my way.

The receptionist smiled when I arrived. Having been a patient here for many years we knew each other well so I was not offended when she said, ‘You managed to get here then! Never mind he’s had a cancellation so you won’t have to wait long.’

Unfortunately when I eventually sat in the dreaded chair he discovered a tooth that needed a new filling. I sighed and agreed to the treatment. ‘I’ll just inject the gum so you won’t feel any pain. Just sit in reception til it takes effect.’

Putting off thoughts of the evil hour I took the envelope out of my pocket. ‘Please read’ in beautiful copperplate was inscribed. I had thoughts of Alice in Wonderland and began to worry what would happen when, or if, I eventually extracted the letter. I had just taken out the red sheet of paper when I was called into the surgery so my missive was stuffed into my pocket once again.

Half an hour later treatment over and done with. I tried smiling at the dentist, very difficult with a mouth that does not work properly.

I had once again missed the bus and it was pouring with rain. After the trials and tribulations of the surgery a visit to that new coffee shop was called for. Plush cushioned seats, waitress service and extremely tasty coffee and cake were what the doctor, or dentist, ordered. Waiting for my coffee to cool I once again took out my correspondence. By now I was intrigued.

I had chosen a seat looking out over the High Street. I heard a tap on the window and there was the elderly lady in the red coat. She smiled her sad smile and walked on. I felt rooted to my seat. Was I being stalked by an elderly lady, and why. Now I am an avid fan of mystery/ horror films and what should jump into my mind was that Donald Sutherland film, ‘Don’t Look Now.’ You know the one set in Venice where he is stalked by a midget. Sorry that is not politically correct and is offensive. I should have said that he was stalked by a person of limited stature.  So should I heed the warnings, the one from Alice in Wonderland or the one from Donald Sutherland. Should I read the letter or destroy it. The problem with an overactive imagination is that it can lead you down all sorts of worm holes, as you dear readers and writers know only too well.

Would curiosity or fear win.

I decided that chance would solve the problem. If the waitress with red hair brought my coffee then I would read the letter, if the young man with tattoos I would destroy the letter. Of course the young man came. They say curiosity killed the cat, so I unfolded it. Same beautiful copperplate.

‘I chose you because you were wearing a red silk scarf, my favourite colour. The red reminding me of so much. I have a confession. You will find my address at the bottom. Please inform the police, I will be waiting.

My husband such a violent man, never physically but emotionally and psychologically. Friends and family made to feel unwanted. I was alone for many years, no one to turn to. So I solved the problem. Me or him.

I’m sorry for giving you this task.’

Was it a hoax? Was it a joke? What should I do? What would you do?