Did I swim this morning? Yes. Yes I did. Thanks for asking…

Then we went out to the airport to say goodbye to M’s niece and squeeze. (Why do I have so much trouble spelling the word ‘niece’? It just looks wrong however I type it. Gah.) Hung around the house with M’s other sister, Y, until J came over with her 11 month old grandson, Ben. He is M’s GREAT-NEPHEW - bwah HA HA! - and he is very cute. M and I were made to look after him while his sisters went to see someone at the bank. It seems that everyone is nicer to you when you’re pushing around some cute kid in a pram (…back when I was a nanny, everyone just used to look at me like my life was RUINED because I was 19, dressed entirely in black with a tiny baby that I had to push around St Kilda to make it sleep).

J apparently was a disgrace at the bank as she’d knocked back ONE glass of wine before going, and Y had to explain to the bank manager what a cheap drunk her sister is. When they got back, J had three more wines and that was it - she was a staggering, semi-hysterical gigglepot. Y took care of the baby and sorted out some dinner, while her squeeze and J, M and I hung out with the next door neighbours. I half carried J home, where she wisely stuck to soft drink. I’d shared a bottle of champagne with her on Thursday and she’d been fine. I mentioned this and she said that champagne is the only alcohol that she has any tolerance for!

M had been doing his own imbibing throughout the afternoon, while Y and I stayed moderate. It was about 9pm when they decided that the time was right to take Faye’s ashes out and scatter them into the bay at the end of the pier. We’d planned on going out in a boat, but the weather was too crap, and we figured she wouldn’t mind, as long as the tide was high. I felt like a bit of an imposter, but on the other hand I was fairly determined to go along. I asked J whether she minded me tagging along, and she said ‘no’. So I didn’t pursue it.

We drove to Urangan Pier with Edith Piaf singing Milord, which somehow seemed appropriate. It began playing when we started Faye’s car just like it had been programmed in by someone. M, J and Y strode down the pier singing old songs, clutching the ashes and three quarters of a bottle of red. I fumbled along taking a couple of pictures with my camera, feeling a bit out of my depth.

The pier is SO long, but J was determined that we should do it from the end - so of course M - who was carrying the ashes - had to wee over the side when we were halfway there, putting the ashes down nearby as he did so, with many apologies to his mother.

Thankfully there was no one fishing off the end of the pier, and while we fumbled with the tape on the box, Y called their brother G, who hadn’t been able to make it to the wedding weekend. Y held the phone to the box so he could say a few words to Faye, and then hung on the line so he could hear us do the deed. By this time, J had her car keys out and was hacking at the tape with them, while we all began to get the giggles. We all imagined Faye rolling her eyes at our efforts. M finally scraped all the tape off, and we were ready.

The wind was blowing at least 20 knots up the bay in the direction of Bundaberg and Lady Elliot Island. We lined up along the railing with the wind at our backs. M, J and Y all said their goodbyes, and held the phone so G could hear. I couldn’t say anything. M opened the box and the ashes flew up into a cloud, not straight out to sea. Some of the ash got sucked back toward us, blowing into all of our faces before being taken back by the wind. Everyone began coughing and laughing. M stood on the railing and yelled a goodbye to his mum.

“I LOVE YOU MUM! GOODBYE!! SEE YOU SOON!!” he whooped into the night.

“Not too soon!” said Y, wiping her eyes.

“Oh my god,” spat J, “It went in my mouth.”

I had to say it. “Does it taste like chicken?”

M started laughing so hard he had to lay on his back.

“Are you there G?” said J into the phone. “We all got a facefull… the wind didn’t take it straightaway.”

M and Y hugged each other, suddenly tearful and bereft. I hugged them both until J, still talking to G, put her arms around them.

We walked back down the pier with our arms around each other. I felt like an honorary sibling - like I was standing in for G. We all had a swig of the red and stopped to look at the pelicans, floating quietly in the water. Back the car, Edith Piaf kept singing like she’d never stopped when J turned the key in the ignition. We drove back to the house, and the song finished as if on cue as we pulled up to the gate and switched off the headlights. Cinematic to the end.