‘Well, you and Francesca here,’ said Mr Addison. ‘Antony Arlingham—’
‘But Amy hated him!’ said Roy indignantly.
‘Maybe she invited him so she could hate him officially?’ suggested Issi, obviously feeling a bit skittish because she was on the official list.
Mr Addison ignored this. ‘You probably know that Mrs Flowers’ wishes for her funeral were very precise.’
‘I suppose I should visit the vicar,’ said Fran, a bit overwhelmed by her responsibilities.
‘I’ve telephoned him with the long list of hymns,’ said Mr Addison, ‘and he’s going to discuss with the church choir the ones they sing best. The choir is also going to rope in a few members of a local choir that Mrs Flowers was a member of for years, for added body.’
‘I didn’t know she’d ever been in a choir,’ wailed Fran. ‘So many things I didn’t know about her and now I’ll never find out.’
‘Do they have to be paid?’ demanded Roy, ignoring Fran’s distress.
‘Of course! Why should they do it for nothing? Even if it was Amy’s choir!’ said Fran. ‘And to be honest, funerals cost a huge amount anyway so a couple of hundred quid won’t make that much difference.’
‘I’m sure they’d be very grateful for a contribution, but in the scheme of things, this isn’t an extravagantfuneral.A very simple coffin and the reception at the village hall, catered for by ladies of the village.’
‘If they’re offering to do it for nothing we’ll make a contribution to the village hall fund,’ said Fran quickly. ‘As well as pay for the food.’
‘You’re taking things for granted a bit, aren’t you?’ said Roy. ‘If I inherit, I’m not going to contribute to any choir or village hall.’
‘The cost of the funeral is the responsibility of the estate,’ said Mr Addison. ‘So I’m in charge and most of it has been prepaid.’
‘Good,’ said Fran. ‘I’m sure we can trust you not to be mean.’
‘Do we have a date yet?’ asked Roy. ‘And do we get a choice? I have some business I need to attend to.’
‘The vicar is checking availability with the organist and bell ringers,’ said Mr Addison.
‘Bell ringers? Like a wedding?’ asked Fran, confused.
Mr Addison smiled. ‘Not like a wedding. Amy wants traditional muffled bells and the years of her age tolled out. Although strictly speaking it would have happened just after her death.’
‘Goodness me, she was a one for tradition,’ said Issi. ‘I admire that. Not ashamed to be old school.’
This made Fran smile. ‘I’m not sure Amy would recognise being referred to as “old school”, but she certainly was.’
Roygot up. ‘Are we done? I’ve got things to do, people to see.’
‘I didn’t realise people actually said that in real life,’ muttered Fran to Issi.
As Roy strode out, Mr Addison said, ‘I think he must have heard that expression on the television.’
Fran looked at Amy’s trusted solicitor, knowing he knew what she was burning to know. But she couldn’t ask.
‘We’d better be going,’ she said, looking at Issi. ‘We’ve got a funeral to sort out.’
‘Just follow the instructions and all will be well,’ said Mr Addison.
‘We could have asked him who was going to get the farm. He has the information,’ said Issi, later.
Fran shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t have been able to tell us and it would have been cheating.’ She looked at her friend. ‘And while we don’t know we can hope.’
The next few days were full of seeing people, accepting condolences and baking. The baking was partly for comfort and partly to supply the seemingly endless line of people who came to pay their respects.
Roy took no part in this. He was off, wheeling and dealing, while Fran, assisted by Issi, made tea and served cakes, scones, biscuits or whatever Fran had made when she was up at six in the morning.
