Page 76 of My Kind of Happy

Annette squeezed his arm. ‘You were a saint to that woman, Nigel. An absolute saint. No one could have done more.’ She gave me a sideways glance and lowered her voice. ‘Not that she deserved it.’

Nigel flushed. ‘She wasn’t herself at the end.’

Annette harrumphed. ‘True. I almost liked her by then.’

Wendy cleared her throat. ‘Shall we discuss what you had in mind for your wife’s funeral? I believe you’ve already got a date arranged with your local church?’

‘Yes, I have.’ Nigel looked relieved. He produced a small notebook from the inside of his jacket pocket. ‘I’ve made a list of questions. Val didn’t have much in the way of family, or close friends.’

Annette folded her arms. ‘No surprises there.’

‘So it’ll be a select gathering, but nonetheless it needs to be done properly, as she’d have wanted it. A top quality coffin, funeral car, flowers, pall bearers …’\nI listened carefully as Wendy expertly guided Nigel through the very last job that he could do for his wife to make it an event which she’d approve of. She was discreet and respectful while at the same time managing his sister’s obvious dislike for the deceased.

‘We can do flowers from both of us, can’t we,’ said Annette, draining the last dregs from her cup. ‘No point in wasting money on two wreaths.’

A weary smile passed across Nigel’s face. ‘No, I suppose not.’

She turned to me. ‘Lilies. A big spray of lilies for the top of the coffin.’

‘Something like this?’ I passed her the leaflet from the other florist, not sure whether Wendy would want her original florist to handle the order.

Nigel shook his head. ‘Lilies made her sneeze.’

‘Not any more they won’t,’ Annette muttered.

‘What did your wife like?’ I asked.

He gazed into the middle distance. ‘Her garden shed. And vegetables. She didn’t like flowers, said they were a waste of space. Over the years the lawn has got smaller and the veg patch bigger.’

I didn’t think I’d ever met anyone who didn’t like flowers. Wendy gave me a look which implied that nothing surprised her.

A sudden image popped into my head of something I’d seen on a website for the wedding of a couple who owned a greengrocery store. I took my phone out of my bag and searched online until I found it.

‘How about this?’ I showed Nigel and Annette the quirky arrangement.

It was similar in shape to the coffin sprays they were looking at but that was the only traditional thing about it. Bunches of radishes sat like rubies amid broccoli crowns, glossy aubergines shone between bunches of bright orange carrots with feathery tops, and sunshine yellow courgette flowers peeked through a lacy veil of delicate pea shoots. Not a flower in sight but nevertheless brimming with colour and interest.

‘Fruit and veg?’ Annette spluttered. ‘I’ve seen it all now.’

Then a smile spread across Nigel’s face and he began to nod. ‘Perfect. Val would love it. Could you make us one like that please?’

‘I’d be honoured,’ I replied.

‘What will everyone think?’ Annette said, red-faced.

‘I’ve spent years worrying about what everyone else will think. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve been wasting my time.’ Nigel gave his sister a defiant look. ‘Life’s too short to worry about what others think.’

Annette evidently couldn’t think of a response to that, so I used the opportunity to say my goodbyes. I was feeling pretty pleased with myself as I headed back to Barnaby. It was only week one without Nina, and I’d already got my first corporate event and first funeral order under my belt.

Business was beginning to boom.