The phone rang, I was nicely merry in a Summer haze of sunshine and cider after a day picnicking with friends in Regents Park.  We had popped home to change outfits before joining everyone out that night. I heard my big brothers voice, then it blurs.  I fell to the floor, just like you see in the movies.  I screamed, I cried and then adrenaline kicked in and I began the search for a sober friend to drive me up to Cheshire to say goodbye to my Mum. You see she had a burst brain aneurysm and she wasn’t going to make it.  As in, she was going to die.  “There’s nothing that they can do.”After a few calls to everyone that I knew I eventually I tracked down my other brother who was enjoying a meal out and had also picnicked with us that day, his girlfriend agreed to drive us up north. What to pack? How long would I be gone?  I knew that there would be a funeral. Say what, a funeral, was this …