“Really?” Ollie was surprised. We never locked our door.
They peeled off their dripping coats. They were both still in their pyjamas “Silvia!” Lucy hugged me, “Alexander had a dream!”
“What?” Oliver took a bag from Alex and set it on the floor.
She and Alex looked at each other. “OK, OK, let me explain,” Alex was grinning excitedly, “You know how you and I were so upset that we didn’t get to say good bye properly to Mum, Ollie?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I’ve been having this feeling that she’s around, yeah? Ever since she died, really, and I’ve been chatting with her. I told her that if there’s anything she wants us to do she should let us know.”
“So tonight he went to bed early because he was so damned sad,” Lucy interrupted She put her hand lovingly against his cheek, “And he woke up about an hour later and he tells me, ‘It’s in the cupboard behind the bloody cache pot!’ I had no idea what he was talking about, but he said it again, ‘It’s behind the bloody cache pot!’ and he jumped up and ran out of the house!”
“What are you talking about?” I couldn’t help but laugh at them. They seemed so excited and were making no sense at all.
“I went over to Dad’s in my bloomin’ flannels and tore into his pantry. He didn‘t wake up, thank God, because he would have thought I was mental! I pulled out that old cache pot mum had in there and behind it was Grandmum’s recipe book!”
“The one Mummy has been looking for since Grandmum died?” I asked.
“The very one!” Alexander literally jumped in place, “See, in my dream I was sitting here on the sofa-like,” He motioned to the front room, “And you,” He was looking at his brother, “And Silvia were in the kitchen. I could hear you talking. Well, through the front door comes Mum…and I mean, through the front door, she floated right through it. And she’s all smiling and looking really young and pretty and she says, ‘Xander, I found the book! It’s behind the bloody cache pot! Must have fallen, yeah?’ and then she sits beside me and pats me on the hand and she says, ‘Go get it and get over to your brother’s! Don’t mind the rain! Make what’s on page twenty-seven. Silvia has everything you need. It’ll bring back memories you’ve forgotten!’” Tears were welling in Alexander’s eyes, “And then she tells me she loves me and Lucy and asks me to tell you two that she loves you both and that she’s so proud of us all. And then she says to me, ‘I really have to go, Xan. Don’t miss me because I’m not far. Tell Oliver and Eddie you’ll all see me again in time’. And then I woke up.”
“Well, what the hell’s on page twenty-seven?” Oliver demanded with a good natured grin. He took the whole story in stride without even a question. Then again, he’d been speaking to elves since he was a child, why would it seem so out of the realm of possibility that his mother could have visited his brother in a dream?
“Let’s find out!” Lucy hugged the book to her chest, “Come on, Silvia! Let’s go cook!”
It was a simple bread. Flour, butter, eggs, sugar, brown sugar, baking soda, milk, a little nutmeg, and vanilla. We baked it for a little less than an hour and pulled it out.
“It smells good,” I held my nose over the pan.
“It says to butter it and serve it hot,” Lucy glanced over the recipe one last time. “Mummy scribbled a note.”
We sliced it and served it to the twins.
“I remember this!” Alexander said through a full mouth, “She used to make it after mass on Sundays! Before they sent us to Bennington!”
“We’d have it with chamomile tea and orange slices,” Oliver covered his face with his hands. “This is what it tastes like to be seven years old, Alex!”
“It was our favourite! Bake the bread, Mummy! We’d beg for it. And she would, she always would!” Alex wiped his eyes, “God, our mother loved us! She loved us so bleedin‘ much!”
“Ah, Mum!” Oliver sniffed, “God bless you! I was missing you, but here you are now! Thank you, Mum!”
“Yes, thank you, Mum,” Alexander smiled, savouring his slice of bread. He squeezed Oliver‘s shoulder, “Thank you for page twenty-seven!”
I must have made that bread a hundred times after that night. They never told me more of what memories it brought back, but it made them both extremely happy every time. It was the taste that made them remember how much their mother loved them. It was an honour for me to carry on the tradition of baking it for Ana. She had been the only mum I had ever known as well.
Edmond lived quietly for another year and then he crossed the veil himself. It was odd how he left us. He complained of chest discomfort and the twins took him into hospital where he was admitted for observation.
“I love my children,” He told his sons as they left, “And I love my grandchildren. All the work I did in my life was to preserve history and all along my greatest contribution to it was my family. I am so proud of all of you, but especially of my two boys.” Oliver said he gave them both a long embrace and kissed them on their heads before he crawled into his bed and sat there smiling. “Everyone will be just fine,” He told them, “Don’t you worry about that.”
They both got phone calls at about five the next morning telling them that he had passed away in his sleep. There was no clear medical reason they could find right away, he’d just gone. We all knew in our hearts he was happy to move on. He had loved his wife and living without her had been a long and lonely struggle. Ed left his estate to his sons and a portion of money to all the grandchildren and great grandchildren, but bequeathed his grand piano and all of his musical collections to his grandson, Warren.
“Blimey,” Warren sighed as he stood in the front room of his grandparent’s home with Alexander, Oliver and me. He ran his hand through his thick brownish red hair, “I’m sure glad you guys are letting me move into this house now that I’ve come home. I’d hate to have to move this piano to a fifth floor flat in Newtown.”
“No shite!” Alexander whistled.
By the age Oliver and I were, it came as no surprise that our children should be getting married and our parents should be leaving us, but we still considered ourselves young. We were fit and active and ready to take on the world more than ever. We had our same energy and with it we had wisdom as well. We thought it was time to start masterminding a plan to conquer the universe, but we were too busy laughing at each other to focus.
Taking this into consideration, it was no great surprise that we got the wind knocked right out of our sails when a year later we got word from Merlyn that Lance had died quietly at his home after a long illness.
“What?” Oliver’s face went crimson. He turned with the phone in his hand and stared at me with a look that sent a sickening bolt of electricity straight through me, “When did this happen? Wait a minute! I just spoke to him! Did you know? Why didn’t he tell anybody? Oh, sweet Jesus. Poor Lance…I can’t bloody believe it. Did you call Alexander?”
When he hung up the phone, he turned to me. “Silvia, Lance has died,” He told me softly, “Pancreatic cancer, Merlyn tells me,” He shook his head, “Come here, I need you.”
I held him tight for what seemed an hour.
“I need to call Alexander,” Oliver mumbled, moving away from me. He looked at me for a moment, “It’s OK if you cry now, Love.”
I took his permission. I sat on the floor in the front room and I sobbed.
Oliver called Alex. I only heard the tail end of the conversation, “No, I guess he’d been sick a good while. Alex, are you telling me he had cancer before? I never knew that. He didn’t tell me. Well, certainly cancer can reoccur. Why are you asking me? I don’t give a fuck if I’m a doctor! He never told me anything about being ill! I don’t know the details! He told Merlyn a few weeks ago! Fucking phone Merlyn up then! Maybe he knows!” He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. This is just so wrong. Yeah, well, I want to puke. Ok, Brawd. Ring me then. Oy, Alexander? I love you.”
He hung up the phone and wandered out into the garden. I watched him walk around mumbling at the trees and then he sat on the edge of the hill and hung his head in his hands.