Page 68 of A Summer Scandal

‘Ah what?’ Vi said, staring at him.

‘Listed as uncollected,’ he said.

‘No one collected my grandmother’s ashes?’

He shook his head, scrutinising the book. ‘I’m afraid not.’

‘So they’re …’ She could hardly bring herself to ask. Did places like this hold onto uncollected ashes indefinitely? Or did they throw them out after a while, unwanted and unceremonious? It was a terrible thought.

‘They’ll be here in the cellar,’ Stuart confirmed. ‘We will have preserved them safely, madam. It’s rare for remains to be unclaimed, but I’m aware of a small collection preserved in the cellar. I expect your grandmother’s is one of those.’

Relief washed cool through her body. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Could you check please?’

Stuart stood up. ‘Of course. If you’ll excuse me for a few minutes.’

Alone in the screamingly calm reception area, Vi tried not to dwell on the fact that her poor grandmother had been disposed of so insignificantly. Why on earth had Grandpa Henry allowed it? Even if he’d discovered that Monica had been unfaithful, Vi found she was furious with him for leaving Monica here alone for all of these years.

Stuart returned after a few minutes, a black plastic container in his hands. It looked too ordinary as he placed it down, Monica’s name and the date of her death recorded in typed ink on the label. A handwritten addendum had been added in faded green ink.

‘Request received from next of kin to retain ashes indefinitely.’

‘Is that it?’ Vi whispered.

‘It is,’ he said, in a practised, gentle voice. ‘Would you like a few minutes?’

Vi frowned. ‘Well, naturally I’d like to take the ashes, please.’

He nodded. ‘Of course, madam. Do you have the death certificate?’

Vi shook her head. ‘Of course not.’

He looked troubled. ‘But you are the next of kin?’

Again, Vi shook her head. ‘Strictly speaking, my mother would be the next of kin, but she doesn’t live locally.’

‘Ah, in that case, and regretfully, may I add, I’m unable to release the remains to you.’

‘But no one else is going to collect them,’ Vi said, tearful. ‘It says so right there on the label.’

‘So it would seem,’ Stuart said, trying to be helpful. ‘Could you speak with your mother, ask her to get in touch? Or if you can provide a death certificate and proof of your relationship with the deceased, that might be enough.’

Vi looked at the black canister, forlorn. ‘Could I have a few minutes alone after all?’ she said.

Stuart looked unsure, as if she might do a runner with the ashes. ‘Certainly,’ he said, after a beat. ‘Come this way.’

He led Violet through to a small, understated side-room with a low coffee table and chairs, obviously feeling more able to leave her alone somewhere she couldn’t easily abscond.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ he asked, kind now.

‘No, but thank you all the same,’ she said. It wasn’t his fault he had to follow protocol. It wasn’t every day someone turned up to collect ashes forty years too late.

‘Just come through to reception whenever you’re ready,’ he said, confident now he was back on his usual ground. ‘There isn’t any hurry.’

He placed the black container down on the table and bowed his head over it momentarily, then left the room with a quiet click of the door.

Alone, Violet found she didn’t know what to say or do next. Should she pick it up? Reaching out, she closed her fingers around it and then faltered, drawing her hand back.

‘Come on Violet,’ she whispered, addressing herself in third person because she needed to be her own cheerleader. ‘Barty said you’re brave. Be brave now.’

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