Do not move it after lunch
When the old sign painter’s workshop became a community room, every piece of furniture was carried out for cleaning except one chair. It stood beside the tall west window, angled toward a blank wall. A paper label tied beneath the seat said not to move it after lunch. There was no signature and no explanation.
Imogen, who was organizing the reopening, assumed the chair had sentimental value. She asked the painter’s son whether someone had always sat there. He remembered his father working alone, usually standing, and could not recall a regular visitor. The chair was ordinary beech, with a repaired back rail and a small green stain on one leg.
The room needed space for folding tables. Imogen photographed the chair’s position, untied the label, and moved it a short distance along the wall. Nothing happened. No hidden compartment appeared, and no mark on the floor outlined a forgotten doorway. She put the chair back before leaving, feeling slightly foolish for expecting the room to supply a clue.
The next afternoon, a volunteer found the chair facing the window instead. Everyone denied moving it. Imogen checked her photograph and noticed something she had missed: the original seat was not parallel to the wall. It pointed toward a pale rectangle just above the skirting board, where the paint had faded unevenly.