Hannah had to stop reading for a moment. She closed her eyes and willed her voice to cooperate.
I know we tease you about being so caught up with assessing each situation for risks and choosing safer paths than some of us might like to travel, but that’s who you are. Your mother’s death shaped who you are today. You had no control over what happened to her, but you’ve spent your life since trying to control the things you can. That’s not a bad thing, but make sure you listen to those around you if you are trying to control how they live their lives. I should also add that I see your mother’s kindness, her loyalty and passion in you every day. I treasure those qualities and know those who love you do too.
No matter what happened for me to die and you to be reading this, never think that I was seriously upset about you suggesting assisted living and other ways to help me. I know that everything you suggested you did out of love for me. Without your badgering I might not have thought to invite Nat to move in with me, and for that I am eternally grateful. Not only did it keep me in my own home, but it made my days interesting. Your sister is the other half of your mother. Impulsive, crazy and a joy to be around. She’s also a wonderful friend if you let her be and I am instructing you to make sure you do. Strange things bring people together, and your friendship formed in the chat room is what you need to keep close to your heart and treasure. You were real with each other.
Keep being you, Hannah, you truly are an amazing woman.
Now, hand the next page to Nat, please.
Hannah could hardly see through the blur of tears as she handed Nat the page. She accepted a hanky from Damien and wiped her eyes as Nat began to speak, a tremor evident in her voice.
Nat, my gorgeous, fun-loving and at times crazy granddaughter. Thank you. While I may have led you to believe otherwise, you’ve made my last months the most enjoyable since you girls grew into young women and no longer needed me as often. I have adored sharing my house with you and hope that you and Hannah will come to an arrangement where you will continue to live there. As I’ve also said to Hannah, don’t change, Nat, you are indeed one of a kind. Your generosity for helping people is something rare. I admire your work ethic and the way you view fairness for all in the world. One thing I would like to say to you is to embrace Suze. She was a true friend to you and can continue to be if you’ll let her. As annoying as you sometimes find her . . .
Nat looked up at Hannah and smiled through her tears.
. . . she only ever has your best interest at heart. She’s always looked out for you, before and after your mother died. And like you do with others, she’s always put you first.
Heat flooded Nat’s face as she continued reading.
And don’t ignore the kindness of strangers, in particular those who keep goats as pets. I think if you give him half a chance, you’ll find that you and Leon have much more in common than you would ever expect. As part of the conditions of my will, I am adding a clause which I expect Leon and your family to uphold.
Nat cleared her throat, her eyes fixed firmly on the letter.
Hannah felt a twinge of sympathy for her. Phyllie would have known how embarrassing this would be. But she was used to getting her way. Even now, after she was gone, she was going to make sure a few things happened.
Nat continued.
Tomorrow night, you and Leon will cancel any plans you may have. There is a bottle of Penfolds Cab Sav in the bottom of the pantry. I bought two of these bottles on the fourteenth of March 2015, as I knew that day something special was going to happen to you. Ask Leon what was special about this day.
All eyes turned to Leon, who looked confused. ‘It was the day I moved into Phyllie’s street,’ he said. ‘The minute the moving truck left she came over with a lasagne straight from the oven and a bottle of Penfolds. She introduced herself, told me about her wonderful granddaughter and said if I was still single in a few years, she hoped to introduce us.’
‘Why a few years?’ Hannah asked. ‘That’s weird.’
Leon was now blushing, seemingly unable to look at Nat. ‘She said Nat wasn’t ready yet. That she was still in her “wild phase”, as Phyllie called it.’
‘And you waited all this time to meet her?’ Sue’s mouth dropped open at the thought.
Leon laughed. ‘I’m sorry to say, but no. That first day I just assumed Phyllie had a few screws loose. I played along as her lasagne was to die for and there was something about her that I liked. Over the next couple of years, I got to know her better, but she never mentioned Nat again, so I thought perhaps she’d changed her mind or Nat didn’t exist. And then, of course, Nat moved in.’
‘Keep reading the letter,’ her father instructed. ‘I have a note from Phyllie here saying any interruptions to the reading must be kept to ten seconds maximum.’
Damien laughed out loud at this. ‘She’s a classic.’
So yes, that was the day I met Leon and told him about you. It has only been recently that I believe you are finally ready for him, although I have a sneaking suspicion you and Leon might have come to this conclusion yourselves already. You are to take the Penfolds and two glasses to the bottom of my back garden at exactly eight p.m. Lie back on the picnic rug and count the satellites and shooting stars. You will be amazed. I’ll be watching you two, so make sure you do this. And while you’re with Leon, make sure that bloody goat of his stays away from my garden.
Love you, Nat, stay true to who you are and remember that you made an old lady’s last few months some of the happiest in her life.
Nat folded the letter and handed it to her father, tears streaming down her face. Hannah caught the ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed to Leon.
He shook his head and reached over, took her hand and squeezed it. ‘We have strict instructions for tomorrow night, and there’s no way I would go against Phyllie’s wishes. She’d probably send lightning bolts at us from heaven if we did. And more importantly, I can’t wait.’
Hannah smiled watching the exchange between Leon and Nat. The attraction between them was obvious.
‘The last thing we’ve been instructed to do is to scatter Phyllie and Frederick’s ashes.’ Her father held up the urn.
Hannah wondered how he was doing. She hoped that his worries had eased, now that they’d had confirmation the money would be returned within the next month. They’d put the house on the market, and it was looking like they would sell for a very healthy price. Sorting out their financial future seemed to have taken ten years off her father. Even dealing with the grief of Phyllie’s passing, he looked less weighed down.
They all moved to the area Phyllie always said housed her favourite garden beds, and he took off the lid. ‘Thank you, Mum.’ He held the urn up high and allowed the wind to scatter the ashes. ‘You’ve taught us all so much, but the main thing you’ve taught us is how to love and how to be loved. For that, we’ll be eternally grateful.’
Damien pulled Hannah to him, and she reached out for Amy and drew her close as Phyllie and Frederick’s ashes danced in the wind and scattered, precisely as had been instructed. Tears glistened in Hannah’s eyes as she looked across to Nat, whose hand was still entwined with Leon’s.
‘It sounds like we have some instructions to follow, Nat. I’m game if you are,’ Hannah said.