The Kicking the Bucket List. Cathy Hopkins

continued.

      ‘Yes,’ said Mum. ‘Like Rose: you work so hard, but I wonder if you ever get to enjoy the lifestyle you’ve worked to create. Kick back, baby girl, don’t always feel you have to be in charge. Enjoy time with Hugh and your children and let some of your feelings out before they make you ill. You know the saying – disease is really dis-ease. Learn to be at ease, Rose. And you Dee, you keep so much of what you’re feeling inside. You were always the peacemaker, but at what price? You’ve hidden away much of your true potential. Be the expressive soul you were meant to be. Bugger what the others think. Fleur, you took flight so early into a bad marriage and to live abroad. But where are your friends now? I rarely hear you speak of them.’ She looked at Martha and Jean with such tenderness. ‘Friends are priceless; as everything else slips away and no longer seems to matter, your friendships will. Cherish them, nurture them. You three have sisters, find the friendship you had with them again.’

      ‘No pressure then,’ said Fleur.

      ‘Shh,’ whispered Rose. I noticed her eyes were shiny, wet with tears, which was unlike Rose who, as Mum had said, was so in control of her emotions as well as everything else.

      ‘So. Cleaning,’ Mum continued from the screen. She brandished the mop. ‘That’s what this first weekend is about. Don’t worry, you don’t have to do any. It’s about giving the insides a clean, and we thought three different methods would be a good start to kick off with. The three approaches are: the emotional, the physical and the spiritual. First you will be starting with a session with a counsellor to get you all talking to each other. Clean out what you’ve all been holding back.’ She brandished her mop.

      Rose and Fleur groaned.

      ‘No, don’t groan,’ said Mum.

      I laughed nervously. This is spooky, I thought, like she’s here in the room.

      ‘You’ve got a lot to say to each other. You’ve all been bottling it up inside. Get it out, get rid, you’ll feel better for it,’ Mum continued.

      ‘Session two is colonic irrigation,’ said Jean.

      ‘What?’ gasped Rose.

      ‘Martha’s idea,’ said Mum with a chuckle. ‘Clear the crap. Great for the skin apparently.’

      ‘And lastly, tomorrow,’ said Martha, ‘a meditation session to clear out the negative thoughts, or at least go beyond them to find some peace inside. I found it very helpful when I was younger and living in India.’

      ‘Me too. But not in India,’ said Mum. ‘I know, this is probably not what you expected, but none of the weekends will be. We’ve tried to make it a varied programme with a few surprises. And the reason we want you to explore the different ways to be happy is simply because we wish you happiness. So. That’s it, I think.’ She looked at her friends. ‘Anything to add?’ They both shook their heads so Mum turned back to the camera. ‘OK. Good. Excellent. See you in a couple of months.’

      The three of them went back into their 1950s ad pose, held it for a moment, then the screen went blank.

      Daniel turned to Rose, Fleur and me, then handed us each a sheet of paper. ‘Your schedule for this weekend is on there, as well as my mobile number. Please call if you have any further questions. Oh and I must mention that, as well as the weekends, Iris asked me to send you the occasional message—’

      ‘From you or her?’ asked Rose.

      ‘From her. You should have already got one – about being a winner not a loser?’

      ‘I wondered who that was from,’ said Fleur.

      ‘I thought it was from Anna,’ I said.

      ‘Rose?’ asked Daniel.

      ‘I got it. How many will there be? What are they about?’

      ‘I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to disclose that. Iris wanted them to be a surprise.’

      Rose let out a heavy sigh. ‘I hate surprises.’

      ‘I don’t,’ said Fleur. ‘I love them.’ She looked at Daniel flirtatiously but it was hard to read his reaction.

      ‘If you could confirm I have the right email addresses too, please. Apart from that, your first session today is at eleven,’ Daniel continued. ‘Second is at two this afternoon. The evening is for relaxation and leisure, and tomorrow the meditation session starts at ten.’ He stood. ‘I know it’s a lot to take in, so I’ll give you some privacy to talk about the recording. Have a nice day and I’ll see you tomorrow morning – and may I say how much I am looking forward to working with you on your mother’s last wishes.’ He picked up his laptop and briefcase and gave us a slight bow. ‘Until later.’

      *

      ‘And may I say how much I am looking forward to working with you,’ said Fleur in a perfect impression of Daniel’s south London accent after the door had closed behind him. She’d always been a good mimic, another talent to add to her already long list.

      ‘I take it you didn’t like him?’ I asked.

      Fleur gave me a look to say, isn’t that obvious? ‘Too silky smooth. I bet you do, though. He’s just your type.’

      ‘He is not. Why do you say that?’

      ‘I know you. He’s Mr Touchy-Feely.’ She went into her Daniel impression again. ‘I’m an emotionally intelligent man. Oh, I understand, let me give you some privacy, I am so sympathetic. Your type.’

      ‘You were the one flirting with him.’

      ‘It’s always good to keep in practice but, seriously, not interested.’

      ‘Sounds like the lady doth protest too much.’

      ‘No, really. I mean, did you see those rubber wristbands? So pretentious. You don’t even have to believe in the cause because your bracelet says it for you. They say I support charities. I support meaningful causes. Right on, brother, and all that.’

      ‘What’s wrong with that?’

      ‘I think the people that really do something don’t flaunt it. They just do it, quietly, sans bracelet, sans advertisement to the world that says they are one of the good guys.’

      I didn’t tell her that up until a month ago I’d worn two bracelets from charities I supported. ‘No more than wearing a pink ribbon for breast cancer awareness or a poppy on Remembrance Day.’

      ‘Oh knock it off you two,’ said Rose. ‘What does it matter if he wears bracelets? As Mum said, don’t shoot the messenger.’

      ‘What did you think of him, Rose?’ I asked.

      ‘It doesn’t really matter what I think, does it? We’re doing this for Mum, though I did think he was a bit full of himself. Smug. Probably because he knows what we’re in for.’

      ‘Your type?’ asked Fleur.

      Rose gave her a withering look by way of reply.

      ‘And what about Mum’s programme of events?’ I asked.

      ‘Ridiculous. Colonic irrigation as a way to explore happiness? Seriously?’ said Rose. ‘I think perhaps Mum was on some weird medication when she thought this up, because frankly it’s bordering on insane. I mean, come on, a dead woman sends her three daughters to have colonic irrigation as one of the conditions of her will. It’s mad.’

      Fleur laughed. ‘I agree, it does sound a bit bonkers when you put it like that. I thought we’d be doing happy things, seeing as it’s supposed to be an exploration of how to be happy.’

      ‘Like what?’ I asked.

      ‘What makes anyone happy? Looking at flowers. Skipping in sunlit fields. Eating cupcakes. Drinking champagne. Buying shoes.’

      Rose looked at her