you can’t buy a view like that, can you? Or the sound of the gulls on a winter morning, swooping into the bay. Look after it. I have fond memories of you, me and Ed in the holidays there and you always seemed quite at home.
Look after it – and look after yourself.
And remember, no black. It’s a celebration of life.
(That was underlined, too.)
Send my love to Brightwater Bay, but I’ll be seeing it soon, as soon as you scatter my ashes there. Send me on my way with love. Will you do that? Do that for me?
Thank you, darling girl.
Fondest,
Olive. x
Maddie looked at the date it was written. It was dated a week before her diagnosis of Alzheimer’s. Here was the Olive she remembered, the feisty woman who gave the hairdresser a run for his money. ‘Bloody klutz!’ she used to call him affectionately. Maddie smiled through her tears. She pushed her chair back and took a deep breath. Rachel reached out and squeezed her hand. Maddie handed her the letter to read as she looked out the kitchen window into next door’s golden-lit sitting room. After a while, Rachel placed the letter on the table, next to Maddie.
‘She’s left you the cottage.’
Maddie nodded, twisting the stem of her glass around in her hand.
Rachel placed a hand on her knee. ‘So you do have somewhere to go.’ She squeezed Maddie’s knee.
‘I suppose so. My own place.’ She picked up her glass and drained it, as Taffie came and rested his head on her knee.
28
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there.
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
Pearl, a close friend of Olive’s from the village, was reading out a beautiful poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye. Pearl was probably in her seventies, with neat, cropped grey hair and a cream dress with a sparkly brooch on her jacket. Maddie found it hard to concentrate what with all the tears, and the looking for tissues in her bag and blowing of her nose. She smoothed the fuchsia pink skirt across her knee and tugged at the hem to try and bring her into the present. Pearl looked up when she finished, took a deep breath and walked carefully down from the lectern, her navy patent shoes reflecting the light from around the church.
She was in St Agnes Church, in the heart of Brightwater Bay, right in the centre of the village. Olive had been a regular churchgoer there for many years. Don’t believe in a damn thing, Maddie, but the company and cakes are good! She’d arranged for a reception in the Rose Hotel after the scattering of the ashes. She hadn’t wanted a traditional funeral service; she’d wanted her body cremated with nobody there, but for there to be a blessing in the church, followed by her ashes scattered out at Brightwater Bay, out to sea. Maddie looked down at her ankle boots and hoped she wouldn’t let Olive down.
Pearl had taken charge of all arrangements and had been on the phone to Maddie to make sure she knew what she was doing. ‘Most people have their ashes scattered on a beach, or taken to the crematorium, but not our Olive!’ She’d laughed. ‘Maddie, you’re sure you’re OK with this? Martin, the skipper, is meeting us at the boat club later and he’ll take you out.’
The church was chilly. It was a gorgeous mid-November day, sunny and bright. But although the sun was out, it hadn’t heated up yet. Maddie looked around the church. It was packed – a tribute to Olive’s popularity. Julian the hairdresser was sitting in a dark lavender suit, a pink carnation in his buttonhole, he was with Nurse Clare, who was blowing her nose on a tissue. Clare was wearing a cream trouser suit with a dainty peacock feather attached to the buttonhole. Everyone had followed the no-black dress code. Ed had been heartbroken he couldn’t be there. But they had no money between them. And Tim certainly didn’t. She was just about surviving at Rachel’s, but knew things would be a little easier when Olive’s settlement came through to her. Poor Olive.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn’s rain…
Olive had made good friends on the island. She’d come here when she was in her twenties. Maddie watched as jewel-coloured strangers silently took their seats in the pew. There was green, gold, a bright sapphire-blue. A few of the