As she came to the top of the meadow she stopped at the almost biblical scene in front of her. Sam, his two grandsons and two highly tattooed Maori boys with brightly coloured bandanas were laying turf in strips on the soiled roof of the structure. Fleur had seen grass roofs in the Outer Hebrides and she stood watching, fascinated.

On Nikki’s instructions Jack had planted two saplings inside the house, their branches leaning out of the windows each side of the doorway.

Fleur smiled. Tree tenants. All the young had been pouring over her Hundertwasser books, wanting to surprise Nikki, but also fascinated by his innovation which made so much sense to the environmentally conscious New Zealanders and Australians.

Hundertwasser had returned to New Zealand in the Seventies where he bought a dairy farm in the Bay of Islands somewhere. He had planted thousands of trees from all over the world. When he returned to Europe he had the idea of planting tree tenants through windows on the Via Manzoni that could cope with the run-off water and return greenery to the city and cleanse the air and purify water. This was their rent, more valuable than human currency.

Fleur smiled. At the time Hundertwasser had been here in New Zealand, she had been a young woman in Singapore. She walked on towards the summer house, and seeing her with a basket of food the four younger men waved and stopped working. Sam turned and grinned.

‘I see! Tools down and everything stops for food, does it?’

Fleur threw a cloth over the grass and laid out their breakfast. The four boys threw themselves down beside it. ‘Great! Thanks, Fleur.’

Sam called her over and took her into the summer house. They had dug a hole half a metre deep for the tiny coffin. Pots of small indigenous trees lay waiting to be planted in the new earth.

‘I don’t know how purist Nikki wants to be, but the wooden coffin won’t biodegrade instantly, Fleur. Has she realised that?’

‘Yes she has. But the wood was chosen with love and help from the Malaysians. It’s a non-durable hardwood. We both want to keep it.’

Sam touched her arm. ‘I hope Nikki won’t go on being obsessed with Saffie’s death. I hope this place is not going to become a shrine but something that evolves and changes and eventually goes back to nature…in the spirit Hundertwasser intended.’

They moved out into the sun again and walked slowly towards the boys.

‘Sam, I think she’s going to be all right. Nikki has a child now, and Jack, and a future here. She’s chosen a place where Saffie can be a part of her life…part of all this…’ Fleur waved at the acres of trees and land all around them.

Sam threw his arm round her. ‘It’s all a bit of a mixture and New Age for me…Christian, Maori…’

‘Rubbish!’ Fleur said, wrapping an arm round his now ample waist. ‘You understand this constant fusing of cultures and beliefs perfectly well. The young do it all the time…I’ve heard you talking to Jack and the boys.’