The thing I have hated most about losing Pia is the thought of leaving her behind when every inch of our future was meant to be spent together. By taking her ashes and scattering them in far-off places of natural awe I feel like I’m giving her new life in the wind she’s blowing in, the streams she’ll run down and the earth she’ll be embedded into that’ll grow new life.

‘So this is only the start?’ asks Vicky.

‘Yeah. I mean, I still have to work, I won’t be hotfooting around the globe for the rest of my life, but I feel like this is a way for me to honour Pia, what we had, and that I should make it a yearly focus,’ I say.

The night I got home and tried talking to Pia one thing felt clearer than ever before. We were both stuck in our individual prisons, an urn and grief, and getting out of either felt impossible. Three months ago I couldn’t imagine me going on a single trip like this, but now I feel empowered at the thought of doing more. The let’s-just-go bag must remain.

‘I think it’s a lovely idea,’ says Vicky.

‘Agreed,’ says Zaza before tilting her head at a new thought. ‘I just can’t believe you’ve been carrying her around at the bottom of your bag the whole time. In Tupperware!’

‘I know,’ I shrug, a tiny laugh escaping, remembering how I looked around the house for ages pondering over a suitable way to bring her with us. I came to the conclusion that this might not be the prettiest, but it was possibly the safest.

I turn and look at where feels best, before deciding where we are is perfect.

Standing up I start to unclip the lid.

‘Do we say something?’ asks Vicky.

‘If you want.’ I hadn’t really thought beyond getting her here and hadn’t wanted to over-romanticize this particular moment. ‘We don’t have to though …’

‘Pia,’ says Vicky with a punch. ‘The world isn’t the same without you in it, but it was made a better place because you were. Thank you.’

‘If I’m honest I’m still trying to figure shit out,’ says Zaza, looking out to the mountains ahead of us, occasionally glancing at the tub in my hands. ‘I don’t understand why you’re not here when I am. It seems so wrong when almost everything about you was so good – for fuck’s sake, you wore the same sandals for a decade! That’s angelic behaviour right there.’ She pauses while she exhales, playing with the zip on her jacket. ‘I miss you. I hope you know how much we all do.’

I place my hand on top of the box.