217 Babel Street | Apartment 7

Dearest Harry

I understand why we never talk about this but, when the time comes, I don't want you to feel you are doing everything alone. So I'm starting a few notes to help you.

Funeral: I'd like it to be held at St Nick's, please, but not with Rev Castor. I've never really got on with him so try to get a different vicar. These are the hymns I'd like.

1. Jerusalem (perhaps not quite right for a funeral but I did love singing it at school).
2. Dear Lord and Father of Mankind (my favourite).
3. I Bind Unto Myself Today (it just came into my head the other day and I remembered what a lovely tune it has).

Ashes: To be scattered outside Merthyr Tydfyl. You know the spot.
Will: As you know, it's in the hands of Sproatley and Beeford. I have left what little I have to you. I'd like Edna to have my ruby ring. I'd then like you to take my jewellery box and bury it on the beach, as deep as you can. It will be treasure for someone to find. Oh please, Harry, do bury it! What a mystery. What a surprise for someone!

And Harry, don't remember me in these ghastly nighties and cardigans. Remember me in the blue dress I wore to the fancy dress ball. I couldn't have said it at the time but - how beautiful I looked!

I shall write more when I think of it.

   Your

   Margaret

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