The Fourteen Keys

After the funeral, Ines and her brother Marc clean their aunt Rosalind’s flat. In a drawer, they find a small leather bag with fourteen keys. Every key has a paper label with a street name, but no number.

“Fourteen streets,” Marc says. “Does she have fourteen secret houses?” Ines laughs. Rosalind was a librarian with a small pension. She never bought a dishwasher. “Or fourteen jokes,” says Ines. On Saturday, they try the key for Quay Street.

It opens a green door in a row of garages. Inside, there is an armchair, a lamp and an old book. A note says, “For whoever needs a quiet hour.” A young nurse comes to the door. “You are not Rosalind,” she says. She sits in the armchair and cries a little. “This is my only quiet place.”

For three weekends, they visit the other places. There is a workshop where an old watchmaker mends clocks for free. There is a room above a bakery for a girl with a cello. Every person is grateful. Rosalind paid for every place with her pension.

Marc wants to sell everything, but now he is not sure. “If we stop paying, fourteen people lose their place,” he says. “If we do not stop,” says Ines, “we lose a lot of money.”

At the bottom of the bag, there is a fifteenth key and a note. “Not for the flat,” it says. “For you, when you find a new street.” Marc looks at Ines. Ines looks at the map.