The ache at the back of Hannah’s throat confirmed she was going to need a tissue at any moment. What a burden to live with.
They said their goodbyes, with Janine and Damien promising to be in touch later in the week.
‘We’ll probably both need some time to digest all of this,’ Janine said.
Hannah was sure she was right. Damien sat in silence in the car as she drove them out of the city centre and back towards Donvale.
‘She was lovely,’ Hannah said. ‘So much like you.’
Damien looked at her. ‘Do you think?’
She nodded. ‘In appearance, mannerisms but also in her kind heart. We obviously won’t ever know anything about Calvin Deeks, but I think you can safely bet that you inherited a large percentage of your mother’s genes. That plus the incredible influence of Trish and Edward have made you who you are today.’
Damien reached across and laid his hand on her leg. ‘Thank you for coming with me. I don’t think I could have done that alone.’
‘But you’re glad that you did?’
He nodded. ‘It’s only the start of learning about my background, but already it’s put a lot of questions to rest. It’s crazy to think I have this whole other family out there. I hope Mum’s going to be okay with it.’
‘She’s a strong woman. She beat cancer, and I can guarantee she’ll find a way to make this work for her. As long as we’re sensitive in what we say, and warn Amy to be too, I think she’ll work out a way to accept that this is how it is.’
They travelled in silence for a few minutes, then Damien pulled out the envelope Janine had given him. He peeled it open and peered inside.
‘What is it?’ Hannah was dying to know what his biological grandmother had done for him.
He pulled out a handful of envelopes. Each was marked with a number. ‘There’s a heap of them in there, all with different numbers on them.’ He opened the top one with a twelve on it and pulled out a card. He turned it over and discovered a birthday card with the number twelve embossed on it and a picture of a boy catching a fish. His hands trembled as he opened it. He cleared his throat.
My dearest boy. Happy twelfth birthday. I trust you are growing into a fine young man and enjoying every day that comes your way. Every morning I imagine what you might be doing that day. School, of course, on some but on other days, I imagine you skateboarding and fishing and hopefully loving life with a wonderful family and plenty of friends. Dearest boy, you are forever in my heart. With all my love on your birthday, Grandma.
Tears rolled freely down Hannah’s cheeks as he finished reading. She looked across to him, and his cheeks were as wet as hers.
‘You’re a lucky man, Damien Anderson. Not only were you loved by the parents who raised you, but you’ve been loved by people who for forty years you’ve only been a memory for, and now I love you with a ferocity I never knew possible.’
Damien didn’t speak, he just let the tears that had been accumulating for so many years run down his face.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A CELEBRATION OF LIFE
Hannah polished her favourite knee-length boots, doing her best to contain the tears that once again rolled down her cheeks. It wasn’t possible that they were farewelling their beloved Phyllie, was it? Her grandmother’s will had been very specific.
No funeral, no flowers, just a gathering of the family and a few close friends to say nice things about me. You are to serve Prosecco, strawberries, brie and crackers and those chocolate brownies Hannah makes that are to die for. Nothing else. No beer, no catering for dietary requirements. You may include a soft drink for Amy only. Everyone else will drink Prosecco.
Hannah had covered her mouth to stop an unexpected bubble of laughter from escaping when the lawyer read this out. He’d had them all gather at her father’s the day after Phyllie’s death, which was part of her instructions. She didn’t want them wasting time planning a funeral and putting notices in the papers – she strictly forbade them to do any of that. As a result the arrangements were straightforward. Exactly one month after her death they were to take her ashes to Blackburn Lake Sanctuary for an elaborate picnic celebration. Each person was to say something about her, preferably favourable, and they were to drink as much Prosecco in her honour as they could manage. She’d made a list of who she was allowing to attend the celebration. Other than the family, she’d included her friend Verna, and Leon – ‘the goat boy’, as she’d named him in the instructions. That was it. No one else was permitted to come.
Phyllie had left instructions that her ashes were to be added to the urn that had sat on her mantlepiece for the past forty-nine years.
Add me to Frederick’s ashes and give us a good shake, so we’re mixed together for eternity. Then, at my festival of life, scatter our ashes through the garden beds after you’ve had your picnic and made your toasts in my honour. And remember how much pleasure you’ve all given me and how much I love you.
With her boots now gleaming, Hannah hurried upstairs to get dressed. Damien was in the bedroom, looking incredibly handsome in a black suit with an aquamarine tie. He pulled her to him as she entered the room and gently wiped her tears before kissing her on the forehead.
They didn’t need to exchange any words; the love in his gesture warmed Hannah’s heart.
‘Is Amy ready?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘I’ll just go and make sure she’s left Bear clean water and some food.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We should leave in ten minutes to stop at the florist on our way.’
Hannah smiled. Damien wasn’t budging on the flower situation. Phyllie’s instructions had said no flowers, but Damien was insisting. He’d ordered a bouquet of Phyllie’s favourite pink roses and was planning to have them as the centrepiece, next to the urn with her and Frederick’s ashes.
The sky was blue, a gentle breeze blowing as they reached Blackburn Lake a little before twelve. A noon celebration had been instructed, and that was what they were doing. Nat and Leon were already there, setting up two tables side by side for the food. Hannah watched them from a distance, chatting and laughing together. She smiled. Even in death Phyllie was doing her best to bring them together.
She helped Damien retrieve the cooler boxes with the Prosecco, finger food and glasses from the boot.
Her father and Sue drove up in Sue’s Toyota. They were planning to sell both their cars and buy a four-wheel drive and do a ‘lap of Oz’, as her dad was calling their proposed journey around Australia.
Verna arrived, wearing a pretty lace dress with a pink flower fascinator. She blushed when Hannah remarked on the fascinator. It seemed an unusual item to wear, other than to a wedding or the races. Verna explained that she’d been given instructions to wear it.
‘Instructions? What do you mean?’
‘I received a letter from Phyllie’s lawyer two days after she died. It had specific instructions on what I was to do following her death and exactly what I was to wear to her life celebration. She always loved this fascinator. Her note specifically referred to an incident when I wore it at the Melbourne Cup back in the fifties. I drank too much champagne and slipped over in a gigantic pile of horse poo.’
Hannah stifled a laugh.