“Let’s bury it!” Alex was on his feet. “Right here. Right now. Let’s have our own fucking funeral!”

“Yes, let’s!” Oliver grinned. “Screw them for not inviting us to theirs! Who needs them? We’ll do them one better! We’ll give him a send-off!”

We took turns digging a hole at the edge of the garden not far from where we had laid Duncan to rest. Each of us held the hat and said something as a tribute to Merlyn.

“Merlyn was…oh, God…so many things,” Ollie laughed, “He was a good man. A loyal friend. He was a laugh when you needed one. He could be such a dumb shit, but right when you required someone to cheat off of, he knew every answer on the test.”

“That’s because he was cheating off of Sandra Ashby,” Alexander said knowingly, “She always let him. Or he’d nick Silvia’s notes. But he was clever about flashing hand signals, yeah?”

“He’d tap his ear for the question number, then one finger for A, two fingers for B…”

“You boys were lucky you weren’t expelled!” I told them.

They both looked at me like I was mad.

“What I remember most is his laugh,” Lucy said through tears, “Remember how when you’d get him going he’d make no sound at all?”

“Or he’d sit there slapping his knees hissing like a snake,” I added. “Remember how he’d always blame his farts on someone else? He took no responsibility ever in all the years I knew him!”

Alexander smiled, “God, Merlyn! Yeah, he farted a lot and it was always someone else according to him. He was always good for a laugh. Where to begin with what I remember about him? He was a wonderful singer. What a clown!”

“He was a right decent kid,” Oliver said seriously, “And a good man. That’s what I remember most. His goodness and his decency.”

“I can’t talk about what I remember most about Merlyn,” Alexander sniggered. “I promised him I never would.”

Oliver laughed out loud, “Oh, right! Yeah, I promised him, too!”

“I don’t think I want to know,” I said.

“No, believe us, you don’t!” The twins spoke at the same time and laughed even harder.

Oliver knelt and laid the hat into the hole we’d dug in the earth. He stood and we were all silent, staring at it.

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” I whispered.

“Should we sing the Bennington song?” Lucy asked after a moment.

“No,” Alex looked thoughtful, “But I do think we should sing. Merlyn loved to sing.”

“No one could do Cats quite like Merlyn.” I said.

“Real, live cats couldn’t do Cats like Merlyn,” Oliver muttered, then added, “Real, live cats on fire couldn’t do Cats quite like Merlyn.”

“The hair on the back on my neck is still standing,” Alex admitted.

“My ears still ache,” Lucy sniffed, but she grinned. “Maybe we should sing Tom Jones?”

“Nah, Doesn’t seem right.” Alexander mumbled.

“What was his favourite song? His all-time favourite?”

“Moving forward using all my breath,” Oliver began to sing ‘I Melt With You’, “Making love to you was never second best…”

Alex joined him, “I saw the world thrashing all around your face, never knowing it was always mesh and lace…”

“I’ll stop the world and melt with you, Merlyn Pierce!” I joined them in the chorus. “You see the difference and it’s getting better all the time!”

“There’s nothing you and I won’t do, Merlyn Pierce!” Lucy joined our voices. “I’ll stop the world and melt with you!”

And then we were all singing the famous Modern English song loudly, if slightly off key.

“Dream of better lives the kind that never hate, dropped in a state of imaginary grace,” We joined hands, “Making a pilgrimage to save this human race, what I’m comprehending is a race that’s long gone bye…I’ll stop the world and melt with you, Merlyn Pierce! You see the difference and it’s getting better all the time! There’s nothing you and I won’t do, Merlyn Pierce! I’ll stop the world and melt with you!”

We did the “mmmm mmmm mmmms” as we covered the hat with earth. Alexander patted it flat when the hole was filled.

“I’ll stop the world and melt with you, Merlyn Pierce! You see the difference and it’s getting better all the time! There’s nothing you and I won’t do, Merlyn Pierce! I’ll stop the world and melt with you!”

We stopped singing and stood again in silence. The sun had set and the moon was rising. It was nearly full, obscured by the tops of the trees.

“Good bye, Merlyn, Boyo.” Alexander was watching the sky as well, “I miss you. Go to that big old moon and eat cheese. Lots of cheese. It can’t hurt you now. Don’t have to worry about cholesterol or your heart. Or your weight. Mangez des frommages, Mate! Maybe you’ll stumble upon Elvis there and you can show him how to sing.”

“Yeah,” Oliver grinned, “May your heaven be filled with cheese and stages and spotlights and people who can appreciate your particular brand of original vocal styling.”

“Go find Lance and wait for us, Merlyn,” I said softly, “When we all get together again we can sit around and laugh like we used to. We’ll go on day trips and haunt the halls of Bennington!”

“Please be well again,” Lucy, always the sensitive one, wiped her eyes, “Just be healthy and strong again, wherever you are.”

Burying Merlyn’s hat seemed to heal my husband and his brother to a certain extent. I would see Oliver from time to time go out to the spot and stand for a moment. He’d speak to the winds and I knew he was sending Merlyn a message.

It was still hard for them not knowing what had happened, but after a time the pain faded into sweet memories of a treasured friend. We never did find out how Merlyn crossed the veil, but I don’t suppose in the end it really mattered how he passed.

He did, as we all do.

In our time.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

I found as I grew older day by day two things. The first was that I had to wait patiently for the young to settle down and the second was that there was nothing I could do about it if they didn’t. I wanted to see all the children in the traditional situation…good marriages, good jobs, a couple of kids of their own, nice houses and all the trimmings of the perfect life. Carolena had managed all of those things and Nigel seemed to be stable and satisfied. The others were a different story.

Natalie had met a man in Paris the year she arrived. He was an art curator and she immediately felt an attraction. It was a rough start, as they both were horribly shy, but eventually they found their way to each other. They spent eight long years locked in an affair before she came home to Wales with her bags shipping right behind her.

She phoned us from the airport and asked if she could stay with Oliver and me at the wood.

“Well, of course, Nattie!”

“Oh, thank you! Could you ring my parents and have them come out tonight?” She asked.

“Why don’t you ring them, Muffin?”

“Oh, I have to get my rental car and I want to get there right away. Do you mind asking for me?”

“No, I’ll do it. You get here as fast and as safely as you can, OK?”

“I will! I’ll see you soon, Auntie Sil! Love you! Cheers!”

“Love you, too, Natalie! Cheers!”

I had a feeling right then that something was up, but I was so excited that Nattie would be back in Wales that I didn’t ask any questions. I knew she’d tell me the whole story later anyway.

We had a nice supper and afterward we sat in the front room so we could talk comfortably.

“So what are you going to do now that you’re back?” Oliver asked.

“Find a job!” She smiled, “As soon as I can! Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll have my own place in a couple of weeks.”

“No rush,” We told her. “You know you’re always welcome.”

“Why don’t you stay with us until you find a job?” Lucy asked, “Welshpool is closer to civilization. You’ll save a mint in petrol.”

“Oh, I’ll find a job,” She replied, “I might have to move, but I’m hoping to stay close.”