Last Ever Episode 26

Mikey was sitting in the cafe at the International Christian Centre with a cup of coffee.  He saw the old people from the farm come in, some on mobility scooters, some with sticks, some on walking frames.  They sat down at one table together.
"Are you the old people from the farm?" asked Mikey.
"We are the people from the farm," said Louisa, indignantly, leaning on a walking frame with wheels on it.  "Not the old people from the farm, please don't call us that."
"I used to live on the farm when I was a teenager.  Can I join you?"
"Yes, I remember you, Mikey," said Maria.  "Please join us."  Mikey tried to be philosophical.
"Community came for a season.  Sometimes God raises up a little flower that will blossom for a short time, and then it dies."
"We have a lot of life," growled Louisa.  "We are not dead."
"We are still a Christian community," barked Matthew.
"Will community be here in seven years time?" asked Mikey.  "No way."
"Of course it will," said Maria.  "Maybe one or two of us have gone, Harry has gone to be with the Lord."
"Maria, you must be nearly ninety.  How did you all get here?"
"We don't quite trust Maria's driving anymore," said Sarah. "We bought one of those new autonomous self-drive vans.  It's a big one.  You can fold up the mobility scooters and put them in the back.  We have three disabled parking badges."
"How can you afford all this?"
"We're all on Attendance Allowance," said Pastor David.  "Attendance Allowance is for mobility and that sort of thing.  I would have sold the farm a long time ago, but no one else wanted to.  I had to accept the inevitable, that we'd be there until we had volunteers from St John Ambulance carrying our coffins to the Piddledon Farm cemetery and helping the undertaker lower them into the grave."
"The new van has given us times of very close fellowship," said Louisa.  "Three times a day we come to the cafe in the International Christian Centre.  The cafe's doing well out of it, too."
"That's right," said Patrick, who was working behind the counter.  "First time we ever made a profit in thirty years."
"We go to our doctor's appointments and hospital appointments together," said Maria.  "That's an awful lot of miles, I use £200 worth of diesel every week."

 

The van returned to the farm.  Matthew noticed that Louisa's cushion was smelly and sticky.
"I'll clean your cushion."
"You needn't," said Louisa.  "Let the home help do it when she comes around."
"But I'd like to."  Matthew took the cushion into the bathroom where he turned the shower on it and scrubbed it with the scrubbing brush.  He also diluted some bleach.  It was pine scented bleach.  Nothing but the best for the celibate sister he had always been secretly in love with.  Then he took the cushion back to the van.  The walking frame with the wheels on it had rolled down the path and fallen over on to the grass.  There, on the tarmac, Louisa lay peacefully, but obviously dead.  Matthew dropped the cushion.  "Oh no, my darling Louisa, I always loved you, but I never told you, because you were celibate.  I will come to you tonight.  I will join you in Heaven."

 

That night, Matthew wrapped himself in an electric blanket and turned it on.  He knew that, in his weakened elderly condition, he would soon wet the bed.  A few hours later, in a deep sleep, Matthew soaked the electric blanket and the bed with at least a pint of urine.  His body thrashed about in convulsions, and he could see his loved one standing on the other side of the sand dunes on a remote part of a beach in County Durham where he used to drive in his car.
"Louisa," he said, "I've come to be with you."  The house caught fire.  As usual, the fire alarm wasn't working.  The house burnt to ashes.  The only thing that could be found in the rubble was a little green memory stick, on which was written the legend of Piddledon Farm and the Reservoir Christians.