Rab’s Sandwich Shop
Rab’s Sandwich Shop
Max’s parents were laid to rest in a churchyard in St Albans.
Unlike Max, they were frequent churchgoers, and so it was an easy decision where to bury them.
They’d never had the discussion with Max because it wasn’t something they were planning for.
They were both still young, had decades left, and so where they were going to be buried hadn't been something any of them were concerned with. Fortunately, after the accident, the vicar at their local church reached out to Max, and the decision was quickly made. ‘It’s what they would’ve wanted,’ was the phrase that everyone had gone with.
Max hadn’t been to visit his parents for quite some time.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t been back to St Albans, it was that going to the graveyard to see his parents was incredibly difficult.
Max also wasn’t sure what the point of it was because it wasn’t his parents who were in the ground, just their bodies.
His actual parents, whom he loved with their quirky personality traits and annoying habits; the two people who had raised him and given him a life, were gone.
So, the actual ceremony of going to the graveyard and visiting their graves, wasn’t something that Max put much stock in.
He went on occasion when the mood took him, but eighteen months later, he still didn’t really see the point in it.
It was a warm but slightly blustery Saturday morning, and Max was in St Albans walking towards the church where his parents were buried.
He had gone back to check on the house, while he pondered selling it.
He wanted to pop into an estate agent to have a chat about the house, and while he was there, he thought it was about time he visited their graves.
He hadn’t been in a few months, but something was telling him he should go.
A small voice somewhere inside of him said it was time.
He walked through the graveyard towards his parents' graves that were side by side, underneath an old oak tree in a far corner. It was a beautiful spot, and he was thankful to the vicar who did everything he could to help. Max reached their graves, reading the inscriptions on the headstones, and it still didn’t seem possible.
Every time he went there, he almost expected them to be wrong.
Surely it couldn't be his parents. Phillip Graham Lawson, born 1973, died 2024. Susan Elizabeth Lawson, born 1974, died 2024. Max stood in front of them, reading the inscription just to make sure they hadn’t mysteriously changed, and when he went home, his parents would still be there, popping the kettle on for a cup of tea.
‘Max, I thought it was you,’ said a voice suddenly, and when he turned around, he saw the vicar, Mark Worsley, standing behind him. Max smiled at him.
‘Mark, hi.’
Max hadn’t spoken to Mark in months, which he knew was wrong because he had been so supportive during the darkest moments, but like so much since that time, Max was trying to put it behind him. Mark was just another reminder of his parents' deaths.
‘How are you? I haven’t seen you around here for a while.
I know you’re in London, but it would be lovely to see you now and again.
’ Mark spoke with a soft, Midland’s accent.
He was originally from Lichfield in Staffordshire, but had moved around the country with his work, before settling in St Albans.
Max knew that his parents had really liked Mark, and every time they’d had an interaction, Max had warmed to him.
He had a mild-mannered, placid demeanour that was perfect for his position.
When Max thought of the stress of living in London, commuting to work every day, and just the noise and the constant bedlam of it, and then he thought of Mark quietly going about his day in St Albans, it was clear who had the healthier life.
Max didn’t know exactly what Mark did all day, but knew whatever it was, it would be done in a relaxed, peaceful way.
Just being around him, Max felt his anxiety drop.
‘Sorry. I know it’s not an excuse, but I’m so busy with work and life, and it’s difficult coming back.’
‘I understand. So, why today? What made you come back today, Max?’
Max hadn’t really thought about that question before it was asked.
He had come back for practical reasons, to clean the house and talk with an estate agent, and on the train, he had made the snap decision to pop into the church and visit his parents' graves on the way. There wasn’t anything more to it than that, right?
He explained that to Mark and instead of moving on, and talking about something else, he looked at Max with a searching expression.
‘Are you sure that’s it, Max? It was just a practical trip, and you just decided to pop in at the last moment. That’s all there is to it?’
‘I mean, yes, I think so. Why?’
Mark looked at Max, and he smiled a warm, comforting smile and then he reached a hand across and gently put it on Max’s shoulder.
‘Sometimes, Max, we don’t always know what it is we’re looking for in life, but somehow we end up finding it. I think you came here today for a reason. Maybe you don’t know what it is yet, and that’s OK, but I think you’re searching for something.’
Max didn’t know what to think. Was it true?
Was he there searching for something without even knowing what it was?
Was he that clueless when it came to his own motivations?
He looked at Mark, who told him he would give him some time alone, but that if he needed him or had any questions, he would be inside.
Mark walked slowly away, and Max was once again alone at his parents’ grave. What would he have gone there for?
Over the past year and a half, Max had gone through all the stages of grief.
At first, he had been in denial because of course his parents couldn’t be dead.
It was ridiculous to suggest that they were gone, and for weeks afterwards, whenever his phone rang or someone knocked on the door, he expected it was them, coming to tell him that it was all just a silly misunderstanding.
Then came the anger, which lasted for months.
The anger came out in spontaneous moments throughout his day, and whenever he was drunk, which was often.
The bargaining stage seemed to overlap with the anger.
He was often so angry at the world for taking his parents away, but at the same time, he would plead with the universe to bring them back again.
He would do anything to go back in time like a movie, and do things differently so they would still be alive.
The anger bled into depression, which coincided with heavier drinking, and with Emma breaking up with him.
The depression had lasted for at least a year.
Now, thought Max, he was in the final stage of grief, and that was acceptance.
It wasn’t that he was happy about it, less angry or sad, but he had accepted that they were gone, and he still had a life to live.
It was one of the reasons why he had joined Common People because it had felt like a step forward.
Max knelt down next to his parents’ graves, moving a few leaves away with his hand.
‘I’m not sure why I’m here today or what I wanted to say to you,’ he said, knowing they couldn’t hear him, but just the process of speaking to them, started the cogs in his brain.
‘I’ve started going to a run club, which has been really good for me.
I know, I’m not a runner, hated it at school, but there’s something about it which helps.
It lets me think, or something. There’s also a girl there I like, but I don’t think it’s going to go anywhere.
’ Max paused, as a gust a wind blew more leaves across the graves and he brushed those away too.
‘Robbie made me the best sandwich the other day. He called it The Scotsman, and it was amazing. Dad, you would have loved it. I said he should start his own sandwich shop, and I was thinking about giving him some of your insurance money to—’
Max stopped because he hadn’t meant to tell them that.
He wasn’t even thinking about it, but clearly it was on his mind.
Somewhere in the deep, dark recesses of his brain, it was there.
Maybe he had gone there to get their approval.
It was the life insurance money that they had left him, and he wanted to know if they were okay with him giving some of it to Robbie to start his sandwich shop.
It was ridiculous because they couldn’t answer him, but maybe he just needed to hear himself say it out loud.
‘I know it’s a bit of a gamble, and maybe I should invest it in something more traditional with guaranteed returns, but I believe in him.
’ Max realised at that moment that the vicar had been right.
He had gone there for a reason. It wasn’t intentional or with purpose, but he needed to tell them about Robbie’s sandwich shop.
‘I know you both loved Robbie, and you’d be OK with me giving him some money. It’s the right thing to do, right?’
Max obviously didn’t wait for a reply, before he said goodbye to his parents, saying as he always did how much he loved them and how much he missed them every single day.
Then he got up and started walking away, back towards the train station and home.
He would visit the house and speak to an estate agent on a different day, but at that moment, he needed to get back to Clapham as soon as possible.
As he reached the front of the church, he saw Mark again.
‘Well? Did you find out why you came today, Max?’
Max smiled at him. ‘I did, actually. So, thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me, Max, you’re the one who figured it out.’
‘But you put the thought in my head. Right, I have to go. I have something important to do.’
‘Whatever it is,’ said Mark with a smile. ‘Good luck.’
Max said goodbye, and then started the walk back to the train station.
He needed to get back to Clapham and talk with Robbie.
Grief was like a strange sort of madness.
It got inside of you, turned things around and made you think and believe in things that weren’t always true.
It infected you with negativity, and every thought and decision you made was tinged with its poison, but when he was standing by his parents’ graves, the thought of giving Robbie the money swirling through his mind, he knew it was the right thing to do.
The thought was clear and free of the sickness of grief.
It was made with the future in mind, not the past.
Max marched into his flat, knowing Robbie was home, getting ready for a shift at the pub. When he walked into the living area, he found Robbie sipping a cup of tea on the sofa.
‘All right, pal? Youse back early. What happened?’
‘What happened,’ said Max quickly, standing in front of Robbie. ‘Is that I had an idea, and when I was at my parents’ grave, I talked it over with them, and I realised exactly what I want to do with some of their life insurance money. I want to invest in your sandwich shop.’
Robbie put his mug of tea on the coffee table, and looked at Max like he had gone mad.
‘You what, pal?’
‘I want to invest in your sandwich shop, Robbie. I have all that money just sitting there, and I have no idea what to do with it, but I believe in you. So, what do you say?’
Robbie looked utterly stunned, but after a moment he stood up and looked at Max.
‘Are youse sure about this, Max? I’ve no experience of running a business, of being successful at anything other than working in a pub, and we’re talking about a lot of money.
Are youse totally sure because I dinnae want to fuck this up, and lose all your money? ’
‘Robbie, I am one hundred per cent sure about this. I’ll help with the business side of things, I know people in marketing, and a girl at work is a social media influencer, with loads of contacts. I know we can do this. Nothing ever changes if nothing ever changes, right?’
After a moment, Robbie finally smiled at Max, and then said. ‘Then, let’s go into business together and open Rab’s Sandwich Shop!’
With that it was decided. Robbie immediately called in sick to work because he was far too excited, and instead he and Max were going to spend the weekend visiting various sandwich shops across London, brainstorming ideas, and Googling questions about how to actually start a sandwich shop business.
Like joining Common People, starting a business with Robbie felt like a new beginning, another step on the journey to being happy again.
Max didn’t know if it would work out, whether they could make a success of it or not, but just being on the journey felt like enough.
It was another new beginning. Another first step.