Chapter 32
A year later. 3 November 2014
THE polished marble of the memorial plaque gleamed in the gentle morning sunlight. ‘Francis Margaret Slater. 23 March 1981 - 3 November 2013. Died at the age of 32. You are always with us. Will, Jake and Aimee.’
A golden urn of ashes stood in the glassed-in alcove beneath it. Below it on a shelf sat Aimee’s moth-eaten rabbit and Jake’s favourite racing car – the two toys the children had chosen to put in there so that, as Jake put it, ‘Mummy won’t forget us now she’s in heaven’.
At the base of the plaque was a fresh bunch of daffodils and a helium balloon on a weighted string that said ‘Mummy’. I tried to make the memorial centre at the crematorium bright and cheerful, a place the children would enjoy coming to.
Aimee picked up the balloon.
