“You may not believe that my brother and I spoke about things that were serious when we were boys,” Oliver’s tone was the same as Alex’s, something like vanilla would sound blending into a warm cup of coffee if it carried a tone, “But from time to time we did. We didn’t know anything about death until our grandparents died, but when they did we decided that we wanted to be buried there,” He pointed at a clearing between two trees, “Because we thought the trees were twins like us.”

“But Oliver hid in an old travelling trunk when we were nine and it locked on him. He was in there kicking and screaming until Mum pulled him out. After that he had this horrible fear of being shut inside of anything, so when we got to talking about dying, he’d have nothing of being locked in a box and set under the earth.”

“Oh, hell no!” Oliver shuddered, “To be asleep and wake up inside a box buried all that way under the dirt! I’ll have none of that and take no chances with it, either.”

“It’s always been difficult for either of us to imagine being without the other,” The night was casting an odd shadow across Alexander’s face so that I couldn’t diagnose his expression, “Mum used to say we were the same soul split in two and walking around on four legs. It seems unnatural being born together and then dying apart.”

“We were lucky, Alex, you and me. Having a twin brother for a best mate doesn’t happen every time,” Oliver was pensive for a moment before he spoke, “But we have always known that the chances of us both dropping dead on the same day at the same moment were slim.”

“So we decided that we’d be cremated instead of buried.”

“Whoever went first would go into an urn and the other one’d keep him. When the second twin died, he’d be turned to ash and somebody’d mix us up together.”

“Then take us back here to the wood and scatter us about in the place we loved best of all.” Alexander motioned around us.

“But what we didn’t take into consideration was the two of you,” Oliver finished quietly.

Lucy shifted, “What do you mean?”

Alexander took his wife’s hand, “You two became a part of us.”

“And a part of this place, too.” Oliver added.

“When we made the promise we had no idea that you two would show up one day and change everything. We had no idea that two sisters would become just as essential to our lives as we had always been to each other.”

Oliver smiled, “I’ve said it a million times. There’s magic in this wood and you, Silvia, and you, Lucy, are part of it. Alex and I spent the happiest days of our boyhood here. Silvia and I spent our whole life here. And it was here where Lucy and Alex were able to fall in love without bother. We are all part of the magic in this place and the magic in this place is part of us.”

“When Oliver dies, there’ll be no burial,” Alexander’s voice was like a whisper, “He’ll be turned to ash.”

“And I’ll wait. I’ll wait for the next one, be it you, Alex, or my Silvia or Sweet Lucy.”

“If it’s me, I’ll become ash as well and be mixed with my brother.”

“We’d like to ask you both to do the same.”

“We’ll mingle the ashes each at a time until we’re all mixed together in an urn…” Alex shifted himself on the grass.

“And then we’ll ask the children to scatter the four of us here all around the wood, so we can always be part of this place,” Oliver squeezed my hand.

“So we never have to leave it.”

“Or each other.”

I could see the tears on Lucy’s face even in the dark. “Oh, Alexander! I want to stay with you forever!”

I moved to my husband and sat myself on to his lap. I lay my head against his shoulder and wrapped my arms around him. The thought of what they’d suggested thrilled me. “That’s a beautiful idea! Return us to the earth in the place we love most and we’ll never have to leave it. We’ll become part of the trees, Oliver!”

“We’ll become the whispers, Love,” Oliver kissed me gently.

“Yes, Sweetheart, we will. I love it and I love you.”

The days passed. Long, difficult days, but we filled them with laughter as much as we were able. Oliver grew weaker, more and more pale and more and more tired. “I’ll stay as long as I can," He promised me over and over through strangled breaths as he pushed himself on, “I’m not done yet. I’m not done!“

And he really wasn’t. Oliver had lived his entire life at a pace that most people couldn’t have maintained for a week, but he took his time finishing up his stay. He struggled to breathe, he coughed until he bled, he had horrible pain throughout his body and headaches to the point where he was not even like himself at all. He was nasty to people and sometimes he’d lie on the bed and cry. Finally, one horrible Saturday morning he had a seizure. I was home alone with him at the time. I thought he’d be dead by the time the ambulance arrived, but he came round on the way to hospital. When we got there, he refused to stay. I begged him to for just one night, just until I could hire a nurse and bring him home.

“Please, Oliver,” I sobbed, “Please don’t make me go through that alone again…”

His eyes flashed with sudden guilt, “Oh, Silvia!” He whispered, “My God! I’m so sorry!”

Alexander and I found him a reputable nurse through the hospital referral service. Two days later we brought him home. He told us all he wanted was to go to bed. His head hurt. He was tired. So, so tired. We let him. There was nothing we could do but watch him.

Lucy and I decided that it was time we called our children. They reacted as children do, some with anger at not having been told sooner, some with shock, some with nothing but concern and understanding. They all came in pairs with their wives, husbands, children and grandchildren. They brought us food and drinks. They cleaned the yard and the house. They laughed together and held each other and cried. Every single one of them told me Oliver needed to be in the hospital and every single one of them received a scolding from Alexander, who was quick to protect his brother’s dying wishes.

In so many ways it was harder on Alex than anybody to watch his brother fail. It was easy to be selfish about Oliver and think of him as my own. He’d been the central part of my life for so many years. But Xander had known him longer. They’d once been the same organism, a single fertilized egg in a woman that had somehow split into two. They’d been born together and lived together for seventeen years and then again for nearly five. They’d loved and laughed, fought and hated each other, but they’d always had the other. Oliver, as he had been for me, had been the longest, most constant thing Alexander had ever known.

Caro stayed night and day when I first said she should come, but during those last long hours, she could not take watching her daddy suffer any longer. Theirs had been a tender union and I knew her heart was bleeding as their bond was being slowly ripped away. Carolena was not a young woman any longer, she was a grandmother in her own right, and the pain and toil was showing in the gentle creases of her still beautiful face.

Nigel was trying to get her to leave with him. Nigel had been doing the opposite of everyone else the last few weeks. Instead of dwelling in death with Oliver, he was concentrating on the living. “Carolena, please,” There was a deep concern in his voice, “Adam’s worried sick over you. Come on back to my house with me and have a decent dinner. Take a hot shower. I’ve got things to help you sleep. Take the weight off for a few hours. I’ll bring you back first thing in the morning.”

“Nigel’s right. You need a good night’s rest, Muffin,” I told her gently, “Your husband is worried about you and so am I.”

“What if I leave and he dies, Mummy?” She wept. Nigel put his arms around her and held her tight. “I can’t just leave him!”

“He’s going to die, Carolena. You don’t have to watch him do it,” I couldn’t see Nigel’s face at that moment, but his voice sounded like Alexander’s, steady and even, “He wouldn’t want you to. He wants you to remember the strong, happy man he always was. You don’t have to have the memory of his death mingled with all the good times. He wouldn’t want it. He loves you and he knows you love him. You don’t have to prove how much by torturing yourself. Didn’t you promise him to always be happy?”