And so it went on. The week since they had returned from Skye had been strained, not loving and caring, as it ought to have been, not full of affection. Whenever Jamie was around, Fiona and her mum were civil and Jamie himself was the recipient of both women’s hugs, but the strain was too much. When Jamie was in bed, and mother and daughter were having a glass of wine in the kitchen, Dorothy admitted that she was convinced Fiona blamed her for insisting on the Hebridean holiday, and if they hadn’t been on that ferry for two hours, he’d have been fine, they could have treated him easily. Fiona tried to persuade her mum that there was no blame, nothing could have been done. Though, having spoken to the doctors in private, she knew he could have been saved if he’d reached the hospital within an hour. That’s the islands for you, one of the doctors had said, a sympathetic look on his face.

She looked up as the minister mentioned her name.

‘Struan’s daughter Fiona and his grandson Jamie brought so much joy to his life, especially during his last few months when they lived back with them in the family house. He told a friend that he could now enjoy retirement properly, now he had a purpose, as a hands-on grandpa.’

She knew he was near the end. She must concentrate. If only she didn’t feel so tired. God, she had all those people to speak to on the way out. Again, Dorothy and she had disagreed on this. Why did they have to do the ‘meet-and-greet’ at the exit to the crematorium? Could they not just see everyone at the tea afterwards? No, tradition insisted and so did her mother.

The final hymn was announced and everyone stood. She glanced round to look at the rest of the mourners. There seemed to be hundreds of people, how did he know so many? The organist began to play ‘The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, Is Ended’ and she put on her glasses and attempted to sing.

* * *

The line-up at the side door of the crematorium as mourners filed out was as awful as she had anticipated. Fiona and Dorothy stood side-by-side and were kissed or hugged by what seemed like hundreds of people, only half of whom Fiona recognised. Martha and Allie had taken Jamie out first, saying they’d keep him busy till the reception. Thank God for Martha, Fiona thought. What would she do without her?

‘What a friend he was.’ Mark had tears in his eyes. ‘I will miss him so much. Even though we only saw each other once or twice a year when I was home on leave, we had such good times, Fiona. Well, you were there the last time we had lunch and…’