As luck would have it, or—not to put too fine a point on it—in Madame Oyzell's own mind, the thought was articulated as 'thank fuck!' she only had to walk through the open gateway to find May, Cristo and Daphne sitting in the garden, drinking something that looked suspiciously like Laphraoigh, with Teri lying in a hammock strung between two stout trees a few yards behind them, so that the smoke from her cigarette didn't pollute their air, and it was her quank, "Madame Oyzell! what you doin here? where's Auntie Maude?" that roused the other three, first to look at their overly-boisterous niece and, then, following the direction of her stare, to turn and see Oyzell and two young men standing just inside the garden wall: "Oyzell! Oyzell! where have you been?" and suddenly, overcome with emotion, Oyzell ran to them, giving out her story, an outpouring, overflowing, Niagara of words, names, places, and then one of the young men stepped forward, introduced himself as Bernie Cohen from Glasgow and, perhaps because of—or then again, perhaps in spite of—his training as a solicitor, gave without any kind of bloviation, a simple, straightforward and blessedly concise account of the past week of Oyzell and May's lives, although five months had passed here, in Melrose, with just one little divagate, to assure them that Maude, having experienced a possible heart attack in the Co-op, apparently just after learning of the Pandemic which had developed in their absence, and showing them the newspaper which Oyzell had prised out of Maude's grip, was safely at the BGH and that Oyzell had just received a call from a third young man—is there no end to Oyzell's ability to surprise?' thought Cristo, listening intently—to assure her, and them, his sweeping arm taking in Teri as well as the three old ladies, that Maude is conscious, apparently it was a panic—rather than heart—attack, and she should be leaving the hospital in about an hour after a few more tests: "trying to find out how she can walk and talk without a brain," said Daphne, rising, "I'll go, can't leave her there on her own, can one of you young men drive me? been taking medicine and it makes me a bit wobbly," and without waiting for a reply, walked over to one of the two cars on the little driveway, with Dudd hurrying to catch up with her and Oyzell, quietly, whispered to Bernie: "they got married on Hogmanay 2014, after being together for over fifty years, you'll find that the Law has changed in many ways from 1947 to now, maybe not always for the better, but mostly, yes, I believe so," and Oyzell saw that May and Cristo, now joined by Teri, were asking her and Bernie to enter the house and she thought to herself, 'I really don't want to go back to my own cottage and be alone, I wonder if they'll let me be quarantined here with them?' and knew exactly what the answer would be and that she really didn't need to voice the question, as May and Cristo, on either side, helped her up the steps and into the sanctuary of their home.