In 1992, my mother sadly passed away at the young age of 62 and after her death it was necessary to sell her house, but we could not find the Deeds to the house anywhere and contacting every solicitor and bank in the locality over a period of months yielded no results in the search for them.
One Sunday afternoon many months later, I went to her house and was just sitting quietly on the sofa in the front room. There was a china cabinet along one wall, of the kind that older people frequently keep china and glassware in, with sliding glass doors in the centre and two cupboard type doors either side. This stood on four legs (a sideboard, as they say) and under that was a wooden chess pieces box that had belonged to my late brother who had died many years previously, when he was just 19. It wasn't used for keeping chess pieces in anymore, but held important documents, photographs, mementos and trinkets, etc, and of course, I had looked through every item in this box several times in the preceding months to no avail.
At the bottom of the box was an 18ct St Christopher on a gold chain, something my father bought on the day I was born (he had also died by then) because my name is Christopher (or Chris) and I had put this in my mother's safekeeping because I was forever breaking the chain in my sleep if I wore it and was afraid of losing or damaging it.
On this Sunday, as I sat on my late mother's sofa, there was a banging on the floorboards, which were wooden underneath the carpet, it being a terraced house, as if someone was stamping their foot on the floor, although there was just me and nobody else in the house. I ignored this thinking it was a lorry rumbling past, since the house was on a main road, but there were no lorries or even cars going by, and after ignoring the thumping on the floor, which was coming from the area where the chess box was, it happened again, and then happened a third time, until eventually, absolutely flumoxed by what was causing it, I went over to the sideboard and there was a little thump, so I picked up the box and started going through everything, knowing that the Deeds were not there because I had already searched it many times.
This time, when I reached the St. Christopher jewellery box, one of those with a piece of felt and two slits inside for the chain to slip into, I decided to put it on, which meant taking the felt out, and underneath that, I found a slip of paper neatly folded into a tiny square, and when I opened the paper, it bore the name of a firm of solicitors I had not contacted in my late mother's handwriting. I took the piece of paper home with me and contacted the firm the following day (a Monday) to enquire whether they held the Deeds to the house and after a few moments, the lady came back onto the phone and said, yes, they were there.
This is a true story. I've had other experiences, they seem to happen around once every 10 years, but nothing quite like this.
Chris J / PureAndSimple.