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‘Unfortunately, that’s all we can do.’

She shook her head. ‘No, I can’t throw him in a bin. I need to bury him … but I live in a flat.’

‘OK … Well, I can put him in a strong sack and maybe you can … give him a funeral – somewhere else?’

‘I don’t know …’ She realised she had to hold on to Eric while she could. ‘OK. I will.’

The bin man nodded. ‘But dispose of him soon, won’t you?’

She nodded. ‘I will.’

The guy jogged back to his lorry, returned with a plastic sack and deposited Eric in it before handing him reverently to Zennor.

It took everything she could not to wail, It’s not just Eric. It’s everything. It’s Dad, it’s Trev, it’s Matt, it’s Sybil and I don’t know what I should do, or whether I should just jump in the car and leave the whole bloody lot of them to it.

Instead she said politely, ‘Thank you,’ and left it, resolving to leave them a generous Christmas tip if they ever deigned to empty her bins again.

Eric was surprisingly heavy and she trudged upstairs into the flat, leaving him on the hall floor. When she got inside, she realised she still had the letter and photo in the pocket of her hoodie.

‘And now we commend the soul of our dear, departed avian companion, Eric, to the Great Bird Deities in the sky. May he spend eternity nicking chips and scaring the shit out of large men in football shirts …’

Sybil raised her arms up to the blue skies above the garden at Rosemergy. ‘Fly free, Eric. Now, let us spend a few moments thinking of our feathered friend.’

Seconds later, Sybil turned to Zennor. ‘Was that the send-off you wanted?’

‘It was more than Eric would have expected.’

‘Probably more than he deserved,’ Sybil said. ‘I’m joking.’

Zennor sighed and wiped away a tear. ‘Yeah. My neighbours loathed him. Thanks for letting him have a corner of your garden. I can’t think of a better place.’

She’d taken the bin man’s advice and taken Eric round to Sybil’s the next morning. His resting place was marked by a collection of pebbles spelling out his name. Sybil had put him in a metal tin so he could remain undisturbed by foxes.

After his funeral, they walked down the garden back to the cottage. ‘I am so embarrassed about screaming at the bin men,’ Zennor said. ‘I almost gave them a heart attack.’

Sybil patted her arm. ‘I expect they’ve dealt with worse. Poor Eric … though he was lucky to have a neighbour like you.’

‘I didn’t do anything. I didn’t feed him. We just – co-existed – and let each other be.’

‘I’d say that was the best kind of friendship. No pressure, no expectations. I mean, Eric never invited you to a Tupperware party, did he? He never pressured you into going to some pretentious book club?’

‘No, though I do think Eric would have been a reader in another life.’ She shook her head. ‘Argh. I don’t know whether I’m laughing or crying.’

‘Hmm. Maybe both.’ Sybil smiled. ‘Look, my lovely. It’s been a big big time, a lot to contend with, and I do know what yesterday was …’

‘You do?’ Zennor said. She certainly hadn’t told Sybil about Trev.

‘Oh, yes. How could I forget?’ Sybil said and Zennor saw her friend’s own eyes glistening with tears. ‘How’s your mum? This must be a difficult time for her too.’

‘It’s always a horrible day. We spoke yesterday evening,’ Zennor said. ‘She’s going to come down in September when it’s quieter … You should meet up.’ She wasn’t quite sure if she should have pushed the point but, for some reason, it had become a mission of hers to reunite her mother and Sybil. Maybe she just wanted to salvage one of the relationships in her life, even if the others were chaotic.

‘If she wants to, of course I’d be delighted to see her,’ Sybil said. ‘Now, if we’re done weeping for the time being, come inside and tell me about this Surf Club party. I’m sorry I can’t make it but I have a gig next Saturday. I always seem to miss the most dramatic moments in your life – and Matt’s.’

‘I hope it isn’t going to be dramatic,’ Zennor said with a sigh. ‘I hope it’s the most boring and uneventful evening I’ve ever spent.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

‘Matt, are you ready? Because we’d like to get proceedings under way.’ Dawn’s hand was on his arm, startling him.