Yaxley Farcett and Fiona Morgan shuffled through the doors of Barnham Village Hall along with a hundred and fifty or so others. They had been to the Historical Society Meeting that Anne Worthington had organised. She had given her presentation on Opium Eating and had given over the last five minutes of her allotted time paying tribute to Reg Dixon. It was the only time she had been out of the house apart form Dixon's funeral the week before. Farcett slid an arm around Fiona Morgan as they made their way along the Main street in the general direction of The Skaters Run. 'D'you fancy a drink ?' he said. Fiona gripped the sleeve of his jacket and replied, 'Not this evening Yax, Just you and me eh ?' They wandered along in silence with no particular place to go, enjoying the fine spring evening.
'What do you think will happen to my dad, Yax ?' Fiona asked. He stopped and placed his hands on her shoulders. 'Don't worry. I've had a word with one of the men in the Serious Crime Squad and they reckon that as no money changed hands he'll probably get conspiracy to fraud charge thrown at him. At the very worst he'll get six months or so. It means he can kiss his career goodbye but he'll not suffer too much. He'll recover, he's not the first to make a stupid mistake.' He paused, 'Y'know at one point I really thought he'd killed Dixon'. Fiona took his hands in hers and gave a small laugh, 'Yeah He told me about the cigarette packet you shoved in his mouth'. 
Yaxley rested his head on the girl's shoulder and whispered 'My chief in Bradford has asked me back up to Yorkshire. He reckons he only sent me down here as a punishment and never expected me to stay'. Fiona didn't respond, but shrugged Farcett away and carried on along the street. She shouted over her shoulder, 'So you'll be off then I suppose. Back to the city...back to civilisation'. As she said this they could see Brian Worthington, Hummer Thompson and Clunch Parsons crossing the road and going in through the door of the Skaters Run. They saw Farcett and Fiona and waved before disappearing inside. An old red post office van drove past with Jak Jackson and Fleur inside. They also pulled into the gateway of the pub. Yaxley caught up with Fiona and held her hands. He put his face up close to hers and gave her an 'Eskimo kiss', rubbing noses back and forth. 'You silly sod' he said. 'I love this hideous fen of huge bigness, I love those characters that have just gone in the pub...... and you're not bad either you know' and he gave her a hug. 'I'm quite smitten by you Miss Morgan. Not so keen on your dad though' he added. Fiona grinned. 'You're staying ?' Yaxley laughed, 'Of course I'm staying. I can feel my feet taking root'. 
They carried along past the church and round the corner until they were walking by the entrance to the cemetery. Yaxley pulled Fiona's hand and they passed through the iron gates. 'Why are we going in here Yax ?' asked Fiona. Farcett remained silent and they made their way down the grass aisles of the graveyard. They came to the fresh graves at the bottom end and they stood before Reg Dixon's grave. The earth was still piled in a little mound and a temporary wooden marker had been placed in the ground. 'Where do reckon he is Yaxley ?' Farcett shook his head. 'Dunno. I never met the man while he was alive but I would have gone for a pint with him. I should say he's gone to the right place...to some fantastic place'. They held hands and read the inscription that Anne Worthington had carved onto the make shift gravestone: REGINALD DIXON
31/1/63-18/5/98
NETTLES AND WEEDS TELL THE
TALE OF LOVE AND CARE PASSED
AWAY. WE ALL HOPE THAT WHEN WE DIE
WE MAY NOT BE QUITE FORGOTTEN
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THE END
