Not One Second Longer

Not One Second Longer
 
 
I’ve finally hit rock bottom. I haven’t got a penny to my name!
Christopher was on his way to the bridge. He knew at least eight people in the last six months had jumped to their deaths from it.
He looked up at the steely grey sky on this freezing cold November morning.
I’m going to do it. I got nothing left to lose. I lost my job twelve months ago and I am in so much debt. My house, my car, anything of value that I own has been taken from me.
As he was walking he saw a sign, in an Romanian gypsy mystical shop, that was on the outskirts of town.
‘We can solve any problem, from Debt to divorce!’
More codswallop! But what if...What if it is true? I got nothing left to lose.
He had entered the store; was ushered to the back of the shop once he told one of the workers that he would like to see the fortune teller. He saw a small woman, her head draped in a black cloth sitting at table, with a crystal ball in front of her.
“Please sit down,” Said the fortune teller, “My name is Olga.”
“I’m sorry I don’t have any money to pay you, I’m’ flat broke.”
“Don’t worry, pay me when you can.”
 

#

 
“You will die on your 60th birthday”
The words of Olga, Christopher’s own personal psychic and fortune teller, ran through Christopher’s mind again.
She must be wrong!
He looked up at the calendar on the wall.
My 60th birthday is tomorrow! 
He felt a shiver of fear run through his veins.
She must be wrong! She must be!
He thought back to almost thirty years ago when he had first met her. She had been a fortune teller at a small shop on the outskirts of town that sold everything from Tarot cards to bits of shiny smooth stones like hematite and obsidian.
I had been down on my luck. My rent was two weeks late and my land lady was going to kick me out.  Then I had met Olga, her English was not good, as she was a recent Romanian immigrant.
She had been right, spot on right!
‘You will come into a large fortune very soon.’ She had said, Chris had left even more dejected then he had entered.
Another load of bull!
Then three days later he had received a call.
“Hello?”
“Is that Christopher Shaw?”
“Yes.” He had answered hesitantly thinking someone else was after him for an unpaid debt.
“Christopher, My name is MR Jenkins. I am an heir hunter.”
“OK...But why are you calling me?”
“MR Shaw you had a very wealthy uncle who passed away recently, and has no other close relative other then yourself left.”
“What do you mean?”
“MR Shaw you are the sole living relative of MR Bernard Shaw. He passed away recently and the whole estate now belongs to you.”
Chris screamed in joy and surprise.
“You got to be kidding me?!”
“No, not at all MR Shaw. Please confirm you are at the address I have on file and I will be right over to get the paperwork signed.”
 

#

 
A month later, Christopher was living on his deceased relative’s estate.
When they said he was wealthy, I never in my wildest dreams believed he would have fifty plus million in the bank!
Eventually when he moved into his relatives estate, he had started to think back to the fortune teller that had saved his life.
Her kindness saved me. I will repay her.
He had her move into one of the rooms in now his massive mansions and paid her a very reasonable salary.
Over thirty years I have trusted Olga and she has always been right. But she must be wrong about this. She must be!
He had quizzed her further.
She had gazed into her crystal ball and said someone called Bernard Shaw would kill him on his 60th birthday.
That’s impossible Bernard Shaw was the name of my relative who is now deceased and whose fortune I have inherited. There is no way he can kill me...
 

#

 
Christopher could not sleep. He saw the clock on the wall in his bedroom reach twelve a.m. midnight.
Today is supposed to be my last day on Earth.
I’ve hired extra security and told them no one is to enter my estate today. Especially no one with the name of Bernard Shaw.
I have prepared well. My grounds are constantly monitored by my security team, who patrol with dogs and every inch is scanned by CCTV. I have informed everyone that I am not to be disturbed under any circumstances. I  have locked all the doors leading to my bedroom and have a small fridge in my room with food and water to last me several days.
 

#

Christopher watched the clock tick by, minute by minute and hour by hour.
He saw the morning turn to afternoon and after noon to evening and evening into dusk.
Maybe Olga was wrong?
He saw from the clock on the wall the time now was 9pm.
A faint glimmer of hope that Olga was wrong started to take root. 
Christopher yawned.
I’m getting tired I didn’t sleep all last night or today. I will just read for a short while then go to sleep.
He then did something he had never done before, he reached up from his bed to the bookcase on his right. It had been his dead uncle’s, there were books on nearly every subject he could think of and it stretched from the side of his bed to the far wall; from floor to ceiling.
   He reached for a book. As he did so he noticed the bookcase was only flimsily attached to the wall. As he pulled the book from the bookcase, the bookcase came loose from its moorings on the wall and crashed on top of him.
He gave a loud, surprised, yelp of pain as the large old wooden bookcase crashed down on his frail sixty year old body.
He lay under the book case, for some time; calling out every now and again in a feeble old voice but no one heard him. The windows were double glazed and the room soundproof.
The next day when the head of his security team and another worker entered the room, all they saw was a large wooden bookcase and lots of books smothering a feeble old man.
“Hey would you look at that,” said the head of security, “there’s a name scrawled on the back of the bookcase.”
“Yes looks like its been inscribed by a sharp knife or screwdriver.” Said the other worker.
They both took a closer look.
“It says ‘Bernard Shaw on the back of the book case.”
“Yes we got more history on him yesterday. His relative was an amateur carpenter and not a very good one by the sounds of it. This bookcase seems to have been affixed to the wall very loosely.”
 

The End