Putting the hotel’s unwanted solicitation out of his mind, he plans this year’s trip to Blackpool – to scatter Hayley’s ashes. He asks Tyrone and Fiz to accompany him. Why, I don’t know. Roy has unending patience if he could tolerate Fiz’s fussing, flapping and incessant talking. She and Tyrone had not brought the girls, something Fiz regretted as she looked at the lovely, and very cold, sea. I don’t think the presence of two small children could have been more distracting than Fiz even if they tried.
In a Fizless moment, Roy and Tyrone watched an elderly couple come near on the beach. The old lady nattered at the man about being careful to not hurt himself as he tried to unfold a chair. Roy stepped up and asked if he could help. He unfolded one and Tyrone the other. They went on their way, leaving the couple bickering in the way that couples who have been together a long lifetime do. Roy saw what could have been, I suppose, what he and Hayley would have been doing years hence, if only.
Fiz, with a tray of teas, caught up with them and launched into her story about the lineup at the tea stand. She continued yammering about how fast Roy was walking, she couldn’t keep up, was going to spill the tea. Tyrone took the tray from her, thanks be to Jesus, so she had one less thing to yap about.
Roy sat on a bench and told them, once Fiz had shut up, that he had decided, despite Hayley’s wishes, that he was not going to scatter her ashes. They may not be her, but they were all he had left and he was keeping them.
Back at home, after a truly difficult day at the seaside, Roy discovers his café and flat had been burgled. Maybe a group of nasty teenage boys who have been hanging around harassing him? His photo albums and model trains were trashed, everything scattered and destroyed. He put Hayley’s ashes back in the cabinet and went downstairs. Despite a new lock, he reinforced the door with furniture.