Читать книгу Sun On The Water - The Brilliant Life And Tragic Death Of My Daughter Kirsty Maccoll - Jean MacColl - Страница 11

Five years after Kirsty’s death, when my grandsons had left school, I asked them where they would like to see their mother’s ashes scattered. ‘Cuba,’ they replied, a country she had loved and had visited many times, taking the boys with her on two occasions. And so at last in April 2006, a small group of us went to Havana on our special pilgrimage – Kirsty’s partner James, her brother Hamish, her son Louis, then 19, and my old friend Denise. Kirsty’s close musician friends Pete Glenister and Dave Ruffy – who had worked with her on Tropical Brainstorm and knew of her great love for the island – also joined us with their wives. I also invited Nigel Reeve from EMI, who had worked so hard to put together the 2005 anthology of Kirsty’s music, From Croydon to Cuba.

As the boat travelled out to sea for a short distance and then drew parallel to the distant Havana coastline, we were suddenly aware that we were being followed by a flying fish, which caused great excitement among the otherwise silent crew. Flying fish had never been seen in that area before. We were all of us conscious that the cover art of Kirsty’s last CD, Tropical Brainstorm, had featured a flying fish under a sunny sky and over turquoise waters. We all felt that she was with us. A voice whispered in my ear: ‘Granny, how much further do we have to go? I don’t like boats.’ It was then that I realised how truly courageous Louis had been to come out with us on this boat.

The boat came to a stop. I said a few words, and as the close family scattered her ashes into the sea, her friend Omar played a piece he had specially written for Kirsty on his violin. Pete and Dave were wearing the Havana shirts Kirsty had bought them. Louis spent a long time looking down into the water and then turned to me with a glowing smile on his face. With this sudden change of mood he had become more relaxed as he tried to explain that he had seen an extraordinary vision. I think it affected him profoundly and I am sure it is an experience he will treasure for the rest of his life. The rest of us were strangely comforted by the flying fish, and our dark mood lightened a little. The gentle breeze, blue sky and warm sun on the way back encouraged us to reminisce over happier times with Kirsty and on reaching the shore we raised our glasses to her and her shimmering, flying spirit.