Oh my G*d I'd forgotten just how anal Baleesha is in a crisis. Her disaster prescription is to 'Monica' and, having honed her Monica-ing skills to perfection, she makes the original Monica seem positively sluttish by comparison.

No sympathetic cuddles from Baleesha for the bereaved but my does the shop look clean. No clean is not nearly descriptive enough, antiseptic, pristine, morgue-esque. Customers hover uncertainly expecting the body to be laid out on the bench. It is quite possible that were it laid out on the bench Baleesha would carry out the post mortem in full public display with a meticulous and clinical precision taking minute care to ensure that no organs or other unsavoury bits clutter her floral hospital.

The friends

Tight strained disbelieving face... real tears... falling into comfort of arms... hug... and tighter hug... and sharing of pain hug. No words needed... enough. Time to talk later.

The tenacious

Pained face, dry tears (quite loud dry tears), hug.

'I'm so sorry... I know how you are feeling... I remember when my father/aunt/grandmother died'... at least it was peaceful. I had to nurse my mother/brother/uncle for six months.'

I don't care! All right! Shut up... Go away... You don't know how I am feeling... you haven't got a f*****g clue. He didn't even like you. Go away!

'Thankyou. And thank you for the card. It was really sweet of you. He would be very touched.'

Touched my arse! Why did I just say that? He would have said 'S*d off you stupid cow. Leave her alone!'

This must be how the Queen feels at a civic reception for the unwashed. Perhaps I should wear white gloves?

Amy approaches tentatively. Amy manages the shop. Amy is straight out of little women. Caring, practical, calm and truly sad. She knows how I feel. She loved him too. She made him tea not me, she made him sit down when he was tired, not me...

Enough of that you stupid woman... he wouldn't have wanted you any other way. He knew you were useless. He knew he had to take care of you... he called you a slow learner when you made yet another really bad error of judgement... but then he smiled and sorted it. Enough! Stop wallowing.

What does Amy want? She wants to protect me... what is that in her hand?

Another bl**dy card! You know I hate cards, they clutter and grow dust! You've done this on purpose. Even our Christmas cards get relegated to the basket (rather nice wire one that holds candles and looks very Conran) but no I can't do that now can I? Cheers Mister... the sitting room looks like a b****y card emporium. Yes I did tell the card shop that they had you to thank for their huge increase in turnover. No Jenny didn't think it was funny but Peter did. He even came in to show me his column in the trade magazine. How come he gets to get his writing into print... he doesn't even 'do' writing.

Oh joy it's a card from our leader. 'Congratulations on reaching your goal weight'. Mmmm nice timing Miss Concave stomach! Still at least it won't have to be put up.

How did it happen? What did we all say?

The Weight Watcher's meeting with Angela. I reached goal weight. You were so proud.

'Don't lose any more though you look great!'

Fat chance of that now mate! If you'd given me a little warning I wouldn't have had to go to those meetings at all. Don't suppose you knew but bereavement is better than speed for weight loss... thanks to you I am now officially slim and heading for skinny!

The farewell dinner for Archie, Angela's son going on gap year... Photos... beautiful photo of you now smiling at me... you always were a good-looking b*****d… love you...

Angela and I still counting points... just one Cointreau...

Home to bed... snuggle.

Alarm going off. Five o'clock. You don't turn it off. You always turn it off. You must be very tired. Arm on my pillow; smile on face...
NO! NO! NO!

The darkest dream that is my new life invades. I know... I don't want to know. I have to call... I don't want to call.

Maybe not? Hold hand... touch cheek... touch lips... shake arm... I know. I am not here. This is not my body walking round the room... I have to call... I have to call.

Who do I want? I don't know... they do. I am speaking. No, this is not my voice.

'We're on our way. Try and tilt his head back and open his mouth; see if you can clear the airways.'

I can't bl***y tilt his head back it's stiff. I'll break his neck.

'Are you there? Open his mouth.'

Lips so soft... teeth clenched... I couldn't open his mouth if I had a dentist's surgery of equipment to hand you stupid woman... do you want me to break his jaw as well? Oh my beautiful I will not hurt you.

'Try and press down hard on his chest.'

I try. I try again. No I can't. Did I hear something crack? No I can't hurt you and I am not helping. What is that? Why is your neck bruised? And your arm? No! No! No!

'He's dead. I know. He's dead.'

I have said it. I do know. Ravager is gone. I am Boots I do not understand.

It is all right. They will be here soon. I have to call. Angela... she will be good... yes call Angela.

Angela is here. That is good. That is normal. Angela will cook. Baleesha 'Monicas', Angela cooks. I am Boots... I do not understand.

Kettle is on. That is good. It will be all right. Cup of tea! Must call offsprung. Must do it properly Ravager would want that. Have to phone eldest first... Ravager pup. Baby boots will be cross that I do not call her first... she is like that... they are siblings that do love and squabble and love again.

Tell Ravager pup who is most sad and who says he will be here in one hour... journey takes at least one and a half... ask Ravager pup to not be here in one hour... two would be better. Ravager pup laughs - gently - that is good. He will drive carefully. He is big hound now... He is fine dog. Ravager would be very proud.

Phone baby boots... she is not in her bed... she is upstairs in bed with tall Celtic hound who she has given big part of heart to. He is dirty sniffy sniffy who likes to do unhygienic things with Baby Boots but he is good and has big heart she says.

Must be mother now.

'Mum it's five o'clock in the morning who's died?'

Sometimes our collective sense of humour gene has its disadvantages.

'Your Dad.'

Later Heathrow... arrivals. Ravager Pup is there and best friends and there are tears.

Baby Boots comes through. Eyes red and shoulders heavy.

'Mum this had better not be a wind up!'

There is more for later but for now I leave the words of Baby Boots, which I have stolen.

Hey Liebelein,

So British/German humour and Dads dying don't mix so well. But it's important you should know the following things. My Mum is of course devastated; she lost her best friend, lover and soul mate in one moment.

But what everyone knows and of course you too, is that she is one of the strongest people in the world. Mum always says she gets her strength from my father, but what she is beginning to realise now, and will most certainly know in the future is that my Dad isn't going to let a 'little' thing like death stop him from doing that. He loved us all very much, and we can feel that in our hearts now more than ever before.

Humour was/is such an important part of this family, Dad would always make us laugh... actually he probably had the darkest sense of humour of all of us.

Making each other laugh is a way of keeping him here with us. If we didn't he'd be really mad... believe me he's very scary when he's mad, oh no, you don't want to see him angry.

You said once that you can't reach somebody in the 'sea of tears', for once you were wrong, laughter is our way of showing that we're all in the same sea.

Liebelein, I know you're thinking of us all, please don't doubt that. You know we're strong Island Monkeys and we're surrounded by friends who love us. For what it's worth my Dad thought you were great, he always asked after you whenever he called me. I'm sure he'll be happy to meet your Uncle, he might even introduce him to Jimmy ¹ if he's lucky... hehehe.

Take care Liebelein,

Love you

Baby Boots