older generation were in black dresses but with colourful hats. Had she gone too far in the bright pink outfit? No, Olive would be proud. Maddie twisted her ankle round and looked again at the height of the heel on these ankle boots. She rarely wore them. She wasn’t sure what had come over her, but last week, after she’d been on the phone to Tim and had yet another row, she’d gone to the charity shop and bought herself the pink outfit she’d noticed in the window. It had only been ten pounds.
The solicitors had been in touch about the cottage. She was able to get the keys in two weeks. It was all very simple, they’d said, as Olive hadn’t any living blood relatives. That made Maddie feel especially sad and she’d vowed to herself that she would look after Maris Cottage as if it were her own.
Olive had left her a little bit of money, too. Not much, but with her remaining income from her school job, it was just enough to get by. Thank goodness the car was paid off.
She glanced at the back of the church where Tim was sitting. He’d nodded at her outside the church, but she knew that he was only staying for the blessing. He had told her on the phone he couldn’t stay on longer. Honestly. He was acting more and more like someone she didn’t know. And he’d had the cheek to phone up to ask what the lawyers had said. He had his head down at the back of the church and was scrolling down his phone. He glanced up and caught her eye. He looked terrible. There were smoky grey shadows under his eyes and he kept scratching behind his ear. His eczema had probably flared up again.
Maddie turned around. She hoped to talk to him about their house again if she could.
The pews were a sea of hats and bowed heads, nodding and bobbing in front of Maddie. There were small bunches of dahlias tied to the end of each pew, their bulbous pink, orange and purply blooms brightening up the gloomy church. The sun’s rays tried to filter through the stained-glass windows. A posy of all-orange dahlias sat next to Maddie on her seat. She was to throw these out to sea along with the ashes. Pearl had had to order the dahlias from Australia. Olive would have loved them, she’d told Maddie on the phone.
Maddie remembered how Olive used to run her hands over the ones in her room. Perfect flowers, she’d say. Just like a child’s pom-pom. Can’t be doing with no fancy things. She used to grow them in her garden here on the island. It was a fantastic sun trap, right on the edge of the beach, a coastal path running alongside the back fence, and inside, a small stone wall keeping out the chilly sea breeze but forming the perfect place for them to grow all summer.
The organ struck up and the vicar came to the front of the church. Someone handed Maddie a hymn book.
She couldn’t actually believe she’d never see her again, hold her bony hand, laugh at her about the awful fake cream on the cakes. Tears pricked Maddie’s eyes as she looked over at the pom-poms on top of the coffin. In life and death, Olive had always been joyful. And Maddie was going to do Olive proud, give her one last hurrah out on the ocean waves, out on Brightwater Bay where she would be at one with the sea, a place she’d spent the best part of her life.
29
‘Here, Maddie, put this on.’ They were at the sailing club, and one of the crew was handing her a bright orange life jacket. The congregation had gathered down by the pier to watch as Maddie went out in a speedboat to scatter Olive’s ashes and fulfil her wishes. The vicar was coming on the boat with them to bless the ashes. Maddie tottered along the pier and yanked down her life jacket. She was wearing a rain jacket underneath, and that, coupled with pink stiletto boots, made for a most peculiar sight.
The boat pulled up alongside the pier and a couple of men hopped on, followed by the vicar. It was a small boat. Maddie took a step towards it, stumbled a bit, then steadied herself as she clambered on. She quickly sat down as the wind got up. The crowd on the pier watched