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Epilogue

By the time that summer arrived, Kirsty’s community service had paid off. She had worked on the allotment all spring and now green shoots had sprouted into towering plants; leaves had unfurled into a lush canopy and, if she was really quiet, she could hear jaguars padding past in the undergrowth.

It was just like she had planned it. Coming here alone the day after they had stolen the elephant, she had stood on the dark earth and made a new promise to Grandad. She had promised that she would always keep the people she loved close to her, no matter how far they might travel. And she’d promised to plant some marrows, even if they did taste revolting.

And she had done it. But it wasn’t just her. Dawn and Ben were facing justice too. Every weekend they had come down with forks and hoes and moans and groans to help. Dad came some days too. He didn’t get better all in one night. He was still sad sometimes, but he got out of bed every day. Kirsty was sure that he was going to be OK.

One Saturday, Kirsty asked everyone to meet at the allotment. Mum, Dad, Ben and Dawn, even Angela.

The sun burned hot above them, insects buzzed among the flowers. It was a perfect day. They stood in a circle. Dad held a small jar. Grandad’s ashes. They had agreed that Kirsty would speak. Now that it was time, she wasn’t sure if she could, the lump in her throat was so big. Then she felt her sister squeeze her hand. She stepped forwards. ‘Grandad. I know you can hear me. We’ve all come to say that we love you. And we miss you. And we hope you think we’re taking good care of your allotment.’

Kirsty saw Mum wipe her eyes with a tissue. Then Dad stepped forwards. He moved up to the tallest sunflower. He knelt down and unscrewed the jar. A small cloud of dust billowed out. He lifted the urn and shook it on to the ground. The light grey ash swirled for a moment and then settled over the brown earth.

No one spoke. The sun twinkled on the yellow petals of the flower. Then Dad smiled at Kirsty. ‘I put some paint in the shed. I thought we could redecorate it today.’

Kirsty looked at the shed, at Grandad’s yin-yang and her dolphins. Redecorate? No way! ‘Dad, we can’t paint over the dolphins.’

Dad smiled. ‘No,’ he said. ‘But we can add to them. There are the other walls to do. Mum and I were thinking that an elephant might look great on one of those. What do you think?’

Kirsty grinned. ‘Brilliant,’ she said.