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Tanya had arranged for a company to come to the house and take everything away.
Max had debated whether he should go through it, and pick out some things that meant something to him, but in the end, he had decided to just keep the photo albums. There were twenty-four in total, ranging from Max as a baby, all the way up until he was eighteen.
There were numerous family holidays from road trips around Cornwall, camping in Wales, to holidays abroad to Spain, France and Italy.
The photo albums were like a magical trip back in time through his life growing up, and they meant so much to him.
He remembered watching his mum painstakingly picking out the best photos – often from a fairly poor bunch – and then sticking them into the album, and writing the captions below in her neat handwriting.
Nowadays we had Instagram to show off our best-of family photos, but his mum loved a proper photo album.
Having something solid to sit down and look through, knowing his mum’s hands were all over it, made all the difference in the world.
The company were coming at nine o’clock, and they said they would be done by five.
Eight hours to completely empty the entire house.
All the years and years of his parents buying things, curating their life together, creating memories, and in eight hours, it would all be gone.
The house would be empty for the first time since his parents had moved in all those years before.
Tanya had also arranged for another company to come in the following day, and give the whole house a deep clean from top to bottom.
In the space of twenty-four hours, all traces of them would be gone forever.
Max had stayed over the night before, eating at his favourite pub in St Albans, and then in the morning, he had walked to get a coffee, before having one last walk-through of the house.
He felt like he needed to drink it all in, one last time.
After today, he wouldn’t return to the house because there was no need.
One last time to enjoy it, feel it, and then he was going to hand the keys over to Tanya.
The sale was proceeding at lightning speed because the buyers were keen to get in as quickly as possible, and nothing was holding it up.
Max started at the bottom of the garden.
There was something magical about that little patch of grass, which was overgrown and needed some care, but it really felt like a secret garden beyond the shed.
Max remembered so many happy hours down there as a young boy, and even when he was older, he would sit down there, watching his father mowing the lawn while he listened to music or read a book.
He wandered up the garden, poking his head around the shed door for a moment, and smelling the smell of his father’s shed.
He would remember that smell for as long as he lived.
Next, he walked towards the house, past the patio where they had eaten dinners on warm, summer evenings.
He remembered the year when his dad had bought a barbecue, and they’d sit outside, his father cooking burgers and sausages, the smell and taste of charcoal, of sizzling meat, his father drinking a cold beer, and his mum a chilled glass of wine.
They would let Max choose the music, and they’d listen to it while sitting on the patio that became a sun-trap in the evening, eating over-cooked burgers and hot dogs.
He walked through the kitchen, reminiscing about the mornings before school, eating bowls of Crunchy Nut Cornflakes, while his mum made his packed lunch, listening to the breakfast show on Radio 2.
The living room was cosy with the old sofa they’d had for years, which was still as comfortable as always.
You could sink into it while you watched television in the evening.
He remembered sitting there on long winter nights, cups of tea in hand or hot chocolate, and laughing together over an old episode of Only Fools and Horses, his dads favourite show.
Memories in every corner of that house drenched him with emotion, but as he walked upstairs, he realised that he wasn’t crying or sad, but just overwhelmed with joy.
Every one of those memories, all of them, were good memories that reflected his childhood growing up in that house.
Yes, there were the memories of when he had chickenpox, and he stood in the bathroom, naked, being covered from top to toe in Calamine lotion to help with the itching.
He recalled difficult days, sad moments, but the overwhelming memories were good ones.
Max sat on the bed in his old room, and looked around.
All of his formative years were spent in that room, staring up at that ceiling, listening to music, and playing video games on the television he was allowed to get for his twelfth birthday.
There was a small stain on the carpet next to his desk, where a marker pen had leaked, and it had never quite come out.
The wardrobe still had a few of his old clothes hanging up, and it was filled with board games they played together.
A slightly battered game of Monopoly was the most common game, and then the packs of playing cards they took on holiday.
Game after game of gin rummy, with his mum keeping track of the scores on an old sheet of paper she had tucked into the card box.
Max closed the door to his bedroom for the last time, before he walked into his parents’ room.
For the first time that day, he felt the weight of their presence that was still in that room.
There was still hair in mum’s hairbrush on the bedside table.
Her DNA was there, even if she wasn’t. The bed had been made in a rush before they left for Cornwall, and Max hadn’t touched it.
He had thought so many times of going through his parents’ wardrobe, and taking their clothes to charity shops, but he hadn’t been able to do it.
He hadn’t been through their drawers, or peered too deeply into their wardrobe because he didn’t want to find something private or personal.
He wanted the memory he had of his parents to remain exactly as it was.
After a few minutes, he closed the door to their bedroom and made his way downstairs.
It was almost nine o’clock and the removal company would be there soon.
Max had already put all the photo albums into bags, and he had ordered an Uber to take him back to London.
He needed to stop at the estate agents and give Tanya his house keys on the way.
Max sat on the sofa in the lounge, his bags of photo albums at his feet, and he listened.
It was quiet. He heard a few birds outside, and the gentle rumble of cars passing now and then, but otherwise it was peaceful.
He closed his eyes and took it in. He was leaving his parents’ house for the last time.
It was a big moment, and yet it had been coming for quite some time.
It felt like every time he came home, he had said a small goodbye, and now he was ready.
It felt good to finally let go of the last big thing that tied him to the past.
Outside of the house, Max quickly met with a man from the removal company, before he got into the Uber he had ordered, and they drove away. It could be the last time he would ever see that house. They drove a few minutes, and then they were outside the estate agents.
‘I won’t be long,’ Max said to the Uber driver, who nodded in reply, before he started scrolling on his phone. Max got out and walked into the estate agents, seeing Tanya sitting at her desk. He walked over, and as soon as she spotted him, she stood up with a smile.
‘Max, hi, thanks for dropping your keys off,’ she said as they shook hands.
‘No worries,’ he replied, passing her the keys. ‘I met with the company who are taking everything away. He said they should be done by five.’
‘OK. I’ll pop over just before, and make sure that everything is done before I lock up.’
‘Great, and thanks again for everything. You’ve made this whole process so easy, and I really appreciate it.’
‘You’re welcome, and Max?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’m glad I got to help you move on. It’s not often I get to help people like yourself, and it really meant the world to me. Your story, and what happened to your parents really affected me. I love that house, and I could tell how much it meant to you, so thank you for trusting me with it.’
‘I couldn’t have imagined doing this with anyone else. Right, my Uber awaits.’
‘OK. Hug?’
‘Hug,’ said Max, and he gave Tanya a hug goodbye, before he left the estate agents for the last time, stepping onto the pavement outside and taking a deep lungful of air.
The drive back to Clapham was strange, bittersweet, and Max had all sorts of emotions coursing through his body.
The main one though was one of relief. He had put selling the house off for so long because he hadn’t been able to handle it, but finally he had and it really felt like a weight had been lifted.
The sale would go through in the coming weeks, and he would get a large payout, which would go into his bank account and join the rest of the money from the life insurance.
When he returned from his travels, Max needed to see a financial expert, to know what to do with all of that money.
For so long, he hadn’t been able to think about the money and what to do with it because it was tainted with the memory of his parents’ deaths.
The money was a constant reminder of what had happened, but now he was beginning to see it as something else.
All they ever wanted was for him to be happy, and they had been careful with money, worked hard, and so everything he had was because of them.
He wanted to use the money for good, to be happy, but also to help others too.
He wasn’t sure what that looked like yet, but maybe after his travels and speaking with a financial expert, he might have some idea.
Max walked into his flat, dumping the bags with the photo albums on the floor.
Robbie was at the sandwich shop, and wouldn’t be home for a few hours yet.
Max needed to go online and book some more things for his trip to Thailand.
He had booked the flight, but he needed to book accommodation for Bangkok, and then after a week, he was heading south to the island of Koh Phangan.
After that he was going to see where the wind took him.
He was beginning to get excited about his trip, although a little nervous too.
He had never travelled solo before, and was worried about meeting people, making friends, and he hoped staying in hostels would make that easier.
He was heading into the unknown for the first time since university.
For eighteen years, all Max had ever known was St Albans.
It was where he had grown up, and where he had lived with his parents, but on a wet, grey day in the middle of September, they all got into the car and headed north to Leeds.
The car was full of Max’s things, and the drive there was one of the most surreal experiences of his life until that point.
His mum was in a constant state of almost crying, his dad was unusually quiet, and Max was terrified.
He was going to spend the next three years in a city in the north of England, with a bunch of complete strangers, but he had wanted the experience, to live somewhere else, and at the end of the day, as his parents said over and over again, they were just at the end of the phone.
But as they all said goodbye, both of his parents in floods, Max had felt strangely calm because his parents had prepared him for it.
So, when he thought about going to Thailand on his own, despite the nerves, he knew he would be OK.
It was just like Leeds, and yes, his parents wouldn’t be there to wave him off, but they had made sure he was ready for it.