Breakfast was loud with travel stories, these couples had been everywhere. Even Antarctica. I liked Karina, she was restrained and seemed shy, perhaps fed up with her chatty husband.

I called the funeral directors and asked to pick up Mum’s ashes. The Manon the other end spoke with the soft Manx accent, somewhere between Irish and Scots, or is it Scottish?

‘So how do you want them? Square box, urn, scatter?’

‘Oh, er, scatter please.’ We had to return at 1pm.. Shopped at the supermarket for provisions and find our self catering cottage in Glen Maye. It is classy, especially the fabrics, curtains and sofa cream with poppies, like my Gran’s only hers were roses. Then back to Peel. He appeared from the back of the office with a large cardboard canister, black with blue flowers. I signed to say they had been handed over and picked it up. It was surprisingly heavy. It felt like I was cuddling Mum and a sensation of peace flooded through me.

In the afternoon we drove to the bay Niarbyl which means Bay of the tail, for the rocks that look like a dragon’s tail, (my description), the best place to see sunsets and also storm watch. I scattered some ashes there in the waves and they washed away to join Dad’s. I told her we’ll scatter them in all their favourite places so she becomes part of them.