The Jigsaw

Peter came home from his part-time job at Burger King to find a box outside his door. The box contained a jigsaw and a little black book. The Jigsaw had no picture to show what the picture was.
He picked up the little black book and read its contents. In neat handwriting, it read, complete this Jigsaw and follow the clues. It will lead you to someone who will change your life forever. Just open your mind and follow your instincts. Inside the book were names and numbers and the words you must try to find me. All this meant nothing to Peter.
Peter started the Jigsaw. With the dining table cleared, he could spread the jigsaw parts on it. The edges of the Jigsaw were his first task, as always with jigsaws. Not having a picture did not help, but he found the corners and tried to figure out where the pieces fit. He guessed and looked for the other edges. The edge took him a while, and eventually, he found the edges and put them together. He managed this by trying each piece to fit another, one by one. After about an hour, he figured it out and put all the edge pieces together, but he still did not know what the picture would be. The lack of sky on the edges made him wonder. Then his mind wandered back to the little black book and words in it. The first page just said, complete the Jigsaw. On page two were two numbers, 74 and 76. The next page just said Train and York. On page four, it said, The greatness of the man’s power is the measure of his surrender. Very mysterious, he thought.
Returning to the Jigsaw, it intrigued him why there were no sky parts. His fingers hovered over the Jigsaw pieces, and he picked one, and it fitted on the right-hand edge. The next bit he picked up also went on the right-hand side, and this continued to happen until he had a complete row of pieces completing the right-hand edge two pieces wide. That was a bit of luck; he thought to himself, and “I must enter the lottery tonight.” Every piece he picked up fitted to the next until he saw he had a complete terraced house with only one part missing, the house number. Searching through the jigsaw parts on the table found the number 76 on one piece. It fitted, and he remembered the black book had said 76.
As he admired his work, a strange feeling came over him; he had not felt like it before. It was as if he were shrinking. The number 76 house door opened, and he felt himself entering the house, and he could not stop himself. Inside, Peter saw a family at dinner. They all ignored him as if he were invisible. When Peter tried to talk to them, they could not hear him. All he could do was listen and watch.
“How did you get on at school today?” the father asked.
“Fine, but our teacher did not come in today, and nobody knows why.”
“What’s the teacher’s name?” asked the mother.
“Mrs Precious,” they said in unison.
“Isn’t she the person reported missing on the radio news tonight? I am sure they mentioned it after the fuss of the coronation next week?” The father asked.
“I don’t know. I did not listen as I was cooking our tea.”
“We can listen later.”
Suddenly Peter found himself back at his dining room table, wondering what was going on. He thought he must be dreaming. Staring at the picture of house number 76, Peter thought of the missing teacher. While he was in the house, he noticed the television was a black and white version of the nineteen fifties and saw a uniform of some sort hanging in the door frame. Going by what the father had said, Peter reckoned it must be the end of May 1953 as Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation was in June 1953.
He picked it up and placed it next to house number 76. It fell into place, as did many more. The complete house next door appeared in the picture. A strange feeling came over him again as he looked at number 74, the door opened, and it drew him into the sitting room where two people were talking, but this time there was a colour television. Peter saw that the time was much later than the nineteen fifties, more like the seventies.
The man said to the woman. “What happened to my auntie Grace?”
“Wasn’t she thrown out for being pregnant? I wonder what happened to her?” she said.
“Some say she went North to a town named Thirsk.”
“Her parents did not care as she had disgraced them in front of their church in their eyes. Her aunt Martha told the police, as she had nowhere to go.”
“The police made enquiries for a couple of days but could not trace her. The papers put her picture out there, but nothing,” he said.
Confused, Peter found himself at the dining table again, wondering what happened. Was Grace the name of the missing teacher? There was still some jigsaw to finish, so he continued. It was slow going with nothing fitting this time. It was then he realised he was putting the jigsaw pieces on the wrong side. He needed to put them to the left, and then they all fell into place. A train station took shape and no more houses. He looked at the completed railway station. It read “Thirsk” before the strange feeling came over him again, and he found himself at the ticket desk, with a young woman buying a ticket.
“A single to Kings Cross, please,” she said.
“That will be £3 please, change at "York” said the ticket master
“That’s expensive “
“It is peak time madam”
She picked the ticket and sat in the waiting room.
The next train to York was due at 1415 Platform 2, according to the timetable.
The train arrived, and the woman stepped on, and so did Peter. The train was of the slam-door type. Peter followed the woman to her carriage, she did not notice him and sat down beside her. When they arrived in York the woman got off the train and exited the station. She got into a taxi and Peter never saw her again. He was suddenly back at his dining table, staring at the Jigsaw. Peter recalled the journey and realised the woman had a suitcase with her, and she had purchased a ticket to London but got off at York. He completed the Jigsaw, without further incident, and the picture was of the two houses near a railway station.
The following morning Peter received a letter from his mother saying that his grandfather had passed away and his grandmother would like to see him. He went home to his mother’s house, where he had lived until he was eighteen. His mother welcomed him with a hug. It was teatime and his mother filled the table with food as usual. After tea, Peter went to see his Gran. She lived near Peter’s old school, and he remembered staying with Gran when he attended that School. They sat by the range that was always on. He told her how sorry he was about Grandad. She smiled at him, “I shall miss him so much.” she said
“Peter I would like you to do something for me”
“What is that Gran?”
“I would like you to visit Auntie Rose. She has something for me to look at. Can you collect it?”
“OK Gran, when do you want me to go?”
“Can you go tomorrow?”
“Of course,”
“That’s sorted then”
Out of the blue, his Gran talked about Yorkshire. It surprised Peter, as it was a coincidence that the Jigsaw pictured Yorkshire.
“Peter, did I tell you about the Castle in Yorkshire when I was a child?”
“No, I do not think so, I thought I would remember that”
“Well.” she said. “I and my sisters and their children used to travel to Yorkshire and play in a Castle. It was all very exciting for the children.”
“Where was that Gran?”
“It was near a town named Thirsk.”
Peter thought That’s another coincidence.
“Are you OK, Peter?’
“Yes, I am fine thanks”
“You looked funny there”
“It’s OK, Gran. Where is it auntie Rose lives in Northfleet?”
“Pelham Street No 76” yet another coincidence, Peter thought.
“I had better go Gran it’s getting late.”
“I will see you tomorrow Peter.”
Peter went back to his mother’s house and told her what his Grandmother had wanted. He asked her if she knew about the Castle.
“Gran was always on about it, we never went there,” she said.
Aunt Rose’s house was a terraced house on Pelham street. Rose let Peter in. He had not been here for years, but Rose knew who he was at once. As Peter sat down at the table with a velvet tablecloth, he noticed a photo on the sideboard.
“Who are these people, Auntie Rose,” he asked
“That is me, my sister Edith and my daughter Grace.”
“I have never seen Grace.”
“No, she went away a long time ago.”
“Where did she go?”
“They sent her away because she was having a child out of wedlock. Her father was furious and sent her away, where nobody knew her.”
“Where was that then?”
“A place called Thirsk in Yorkshire.”
There was that place again, he thought
“Gran says you have something for her,” he said.
“Yes, I will get it.”
Rose came into the room, carrying a heavy Bible.
“This is our family bible,” said Rose
“Your Gran wanted to see it again, it has been many years since she last saw it.”
“This is a large book. I can put it in a bag for you.”
They had a cup of tea and he said goodbye.
It delighted his Gran to see the Bible again and immediately opened it. Inside the Bible were blank places designed to put photos of the family.
It upset his Gran, as there were no photos in the Bible, just a Memorial Card for Sir John Turton. Peter had never heard of him.
‘Who’s he, Gran?” he said.
“He was the owner of the Castle in Thirsk.”
“Why would it be in your Bible then?”
“I do not know except that we used to know him when we went on holiday there.”
“Gran, do you know anything about Grace?
“We could not mention her in our house,” she said
“Why was that?”
“She had sinned, and we were strict Salvation Army people.”
“I still have the uniform. Thanks for fetching the Bible for me.”
“Peter thought he had better go as Gran was getting upset about Grace.”
He said goodbye and went to his mother’s house and told her about what he had found out.
“Nobody mentioned Grace in the house when I was a child.” his mother said. “Grace and I used to meet up when we were young.”
“There have been a few letters from up north somewhere, but then they stopped. It’s been a long time since I have heard from Grace,” she said.
“I did not like it at Auntie Rose’s house. Uncle James was so strict. We had just to sit there and say nothing.”
When he arrived back at his bedsit, the Jigsaw was still on the table. A picture of two houses and a train station.
Peter knew he had to find out about Grace. He travelled to Thirsk in Yorkshire and found a Castle. It was more like a large house than a Castle, but they called it Upsall Castle. The housekeeper answered the door and she was the housekeeper and knew of Grace and told him she lived near the station, but it was years ago.
At Thirsk town hall, Peter looked at the electoral roll. Peter found a Grace Precious listed at an address near the station, noted the address, left the offices, and headed for the house. As he approached the listed place, he saw the two houses pictured in his Jigsaw right next to the train station. He had not noticed them when he arrived, as the platform exit was on the other side. The address he had was further up the road. A few minutes later he rang the bell. The person answering the door looked as if she was a nurse.
“Does Grace Precious live here?” he asked.
“Yes, she does who shall I say is here? The nurse said.
“Tell her it is Peter, a relative.”
She went to the back room and came out a few minutes later.
“Come in “
“Thank you.”
“She is in the backroom and she will see you.”
“Peter” the women shouted.
“Are you Grace?’
“Yes, I know you, Peter, I have been longing to see you. I would recognise you anywhere.”
“You are my Grandson.”
Peter was shocked and had to sit down.
How can this be he said to himself?
“Peter, it is a long story. My parents sent me away when I was just 18 because I was having a baby. I came here because I knew the place as a child. Sir John Turton found rented me this house for a nominal rent. I worked at the Castle for many years. My daughter Sylvia was born here. She also fell pregnant very young, and she had a boy. That boy was you. Your mother took you in when Sylvia could not cope. Your mother and I were close cousins, and they adopted you. Did your mother not tell you?”
“No, Mum and Dad said nothing to me”
“Sylvia was a teacher, you know. One day she just vanished, and I never saw her again.”
Then he realised why they never spoke about Grace. Because if they did, they were afraid it might come out that they adopted me.
“Where is Silvia now?
“No-one knows.”
Peter told Grace about his life so far and the Jigsaw. Grace was a spiritualist and told him she had seen him in her mind for some time and tried to communicate with him. The Jigsaw must have been the gateway. Grace told him to follow his instinct and try to find Sylvia. Grace told him she was now in her sixties if she is still alive.
Peter thought about the time he saw the woman get off the train in York. He thought that might be her. How would he find her?
The next day he logged on to his computer and found the newspaper archives. He searched for “Missing Teacher”. It took some time for him to go through all the Northern papers, eventually, he found an article.
“Missing schoolteacher from Thirsk.”
That must be her. He thought.
There it was. It read, “A schoolteacher from Thirsk, Miss Sylvia Precious, has been missing for 2 weeks. Police have found no trace”
He found his birth mother in the newspaper, but that did not help him locate her, searching for more articles and lead nowhere. What could he do now? In York, he looked up the electoral role, searched for Sylvia Precious and found nothing. At home, disappointed, he sat at the dining table looking at the Jigsaw, wondering why it had taken him inside the houses. The little black book was on the table and the pages fell open and written on the pages was the quotation, “The greatness of the man’s power is the measure of his surrender.” What did it mean? He googled the quotation and found it was from General Booth of the Salvation Army. Then he realised the uniform in the house was Salvation Army, his grandmother walked with General Booth when she was younger, and Auntie rose was in the Salvation Army as well. That’s why they sent Grace away.
He studied the picture for other clues. He knew she was a teacher, and there it was. On the telephone box in the Jigsaw, a card in the window. Looking through his magnifying glass, he could read the card. “Wanted Teacher at all girls’ school in York. Apply to The Mount School, York.” He found the address and called them and asked if they knew of a teacher named Sylvia Precious. They said there was a teacher named Sylvia, but her surname was not Precious. She retired a few years ago. Peter explained his issue to the person on the phone and asked to make an appointment to see the headteacher the following day.
Peter travelled by train to York and arrived at the school in the late morning. The headteacher was a middle-aged lady with a posh accent. He explained why he wanted to trace Sylvia. The headteacher told him her name was Sylvia Swanson, and she lived in York. She gave him her address. He immediately went to the address only to find she had passed away six days ago. The person who answered the door was a cleaner clearing up after they took Sylvia to the funeral parlour. She handed Peter a letter. The letter was from Sylvia. It read: Dear Peter if you are reading this you will know I have passed. I am sorry we never met, but I know your adopted parents looked after you. I placed the Jigsaw and little black book in your bedsit, hoping you would find it. I have followed you all your life.
As you know, I am a spiritualist, and I contacted you through the Jigsaw. I have left my house and estate for you. They will lay me to rest at The Belfry by York Minster. Please come to my funeral. With Love, your Birth Mother.
Peter attended her Funeral along with his mother, who then explained everything to him. Sylvia had indeed left the whole of her estate to him.

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