At the cemetery:

Cavalcanti *clad in a black 'designer uniform' - no true designer ever wears anything else than black, as he well knows, stands looking at the brand new black and shining headstone at Salome's grave*  DeeDee, do you think it still needs something?  But I have to say that the letters in silver are much more stylish than gold.

DeeDee *stares at the horrid little sculpture of Salome as posing on a catwalk, but with wings on her back*  I think it is fine, Daddy.  Can I plant the roses now?

Candy *standing a little farther with Chiana in her arms, looking sadly at the headstone*  Do the dead care for style?

Cavalcanti *impatiently*  Candy, how many times have I said to you that appearance is everything. It is the living we have to think of!  *he turns to DeeDee*  If you say so, darling.  *examines closely the roses she has in her hand*  That white looks a little pinkish to me, don't you think?  Are you sure that they really are Sparkling Champagne?  But those dark ones are just perfect.  Queen of the Night, as dark as a rose can get ....

DeeDee *worried*  I don't see any pink in them.  *she crouches at the grave and digs a hole for the plants, carefully so that her hands don't get soiled.  One of the most horrible things she knows is dirt under fingernails*  I can't believe that she is there, Daddy.

Cavalcanti:  I can't believe that she ended there without a good and decent funeral, just because the Security Office let someone steal the body.  I should sue them.  What am I now going to do with the black catwalk and all the dresses and decorations.  *he looks at the headstone, and it's real grief showing in his eyes*  What an occasion that would have been.  We would have made it in all important magazines.  I already got contacted by many wishing to attend the occasion.  And now, nothing.  *sadly, he shakes his head and wipes away a tear.*  DeeDee, I buried my project with her.  It could have been something fantastic.

DeeDee *pats him on the shoulder.  She knows that he hates hugging, he hates wrinkles on his jacket as much as the incompetent Security Officers who spoiled the word's coolest funeral.*  Oh Daddy, I don't know what to say.  *she sniffs, thinking about the dress he imported to her straight from Milan, a unique haute couture dress.  She looked so great in it.

Candy *crouches down to look closer at the roses.  Even they seem to be cold and shiny.  Chiana touches the small memorial statue, then her fingers curl resolutely around it*  No, Chiana, that's not a doll.  *she loosens her grip on it and finds her another toy*

Cavalcanti *horrified*  Take that brat away!  You have no idea how much that statue cost to me!  For Heaven's sake, it is a real Cristobaldi!

Candy *sullenly*  I don't like that you call her brat.

Cavalcanti *snaps*  And I don't like that you took her with you.

Candy:  I am a nanny, Daddy.

Cavalcanti:  And do you really have to remind of it every time.  It's a shame, Candy.  With your looks, you could have followed Salome and made a career.

Candy:  I don't want to.  I want to do something useful.

Cavalcanti:  Look.  Anyone can raise kids, but just a few make good models.

DeeDee:  Daddy, I think I have a good idea.  Why don't do a fashion show about funerals?  You could use the catwalk, and all the decorations.

Cavalcanti *interrupts her, forgetting Candy*  Daughter, you are a genius!  I can see the covers!  Death is in!  Cavalcanti makes dying fashionable!  Passing away with style!  The ultimate fashion statement!  Brilliant, pure dead brilliant!  I have to alert my team immediately.  We are going to do a photo shoot session in the cemetery.

Candy *watching Cavalcanti energetically walk away, talking into his mobile phone*  Why did you do that?

DeeDee *looks at her with reproach*  I want him to be happy.  *she can already see herself in the dress, standing at Salome's grave, or sitting gracefully on the headstone ... *

The Wonkas in London:

Justify *after a rather large and delicious meal, the group sits down in the living room by a fireplace.  Justify lights his pipe and gives Madame a glance*  So, Kim.  I can quite obviously see you are with child.

Madame *places hand on her stomach* Indeed.

Justify:  And when are you due?

Madame:  Quite soon actually.

Justify *nods, looks over at Willy*  And this is your fourth child?

Madame:  She will be our ...

Willy:  Fifth.  *he looks over at Cole, who is sitting on the floor playing with baseball cards Justify showed him*

Justify *smiles at the boy*  Ah, I'll admit.  I think it's grand you took him in.

Willy:  Thank you.

Madame *an awkward silence stands in the room.  After a minute, Madame stands up*  I think I'll go make some coffee for us.  Aunt Fiona, would you care to lend me a hand?

Fiona *jerks out of a sleep*  Wha?  Oh ... oh yes okay.  *they leave*

Justify *continues that cold stare to Willy*  You have been a disgrace to the Wonka name boy.

Willy *he dares not look his uncle directly in the eyes, but only glances, then stares at the fire again*  I know.

Justify:  Everyone knows what you have done to your wife.  Back in my day, we were hung for that sort of behavior. 

Willy:  I know.

Justify:  No, Willy.  You don't.  You don't know that your father calls me quite often, worried sick of what you'll do next.

Willy:  You said you don't talk to dad.

Justify:  I asked how he was, didn't say I didn’t speak to him.  I am concerned.  For her. 

Willy:  Don't be.

Justify: You told your father that too.  Look what happened.  She should have left you.

Willy:  I know.

Justify:  Bad things happen in everyone's lives Willy.  That is no reason to go back in time.

Willy:  She's dead now.

Justify:  And I understand you were the one to pull that trigger as well.

Willy:  She kicked my wife.  Almost killed my daughter.  I wanted her dead.

Justify:  I can understand your defense, Willy, but if you hadn't gone in the first place, you wouldn't be facing trials right now and she wouldn't be in her grave.

Willy:  I messed up.

Justify:  Far more than you can imagine.  That wife of yours is a unique one.  Not once has she ever gone out of bounds has she?

Willy:  No, but ...

Justify:  No buts, Willy.  You know you are wrong.  As your uncle, I am proud that you have achieved so much.  But you can be the most powerful man in the world and I will still look at you in disgust for what you've done to your lady.

Willy:  It won't fix what I did.

Justify:  Nothing will. You will have that on your mind for the rest of your life. 

Willy:  I know.  I have nightmares.

Justify:  And that you should, too.  But, I will cut you a break here and say one thing.  Remember, you did it to protect your family.  The wife you love with your entire soul, and your unborn daughter.  Also your other children.  Imagine if she had lived.  What would she have done?

Willy:  I don't dare think of it.

Justify:  Being the rather blunt person I am, I shall tell you.  She was mad with obsession, boy.  Which I still can't imagine why.  She would've assumed that you would always love her because you came back.  She would've followed you.  She already tried to hurt your wife, which means she would've gone the distance to have you.  I can see her killing your wife.  Then because she wanted you all to herself with no one else involved, she would've taken the lives of your children.  Every one of them.  And if you didn't comply ... she would've taken you too.

Willy *tears flow from his face and he tries to quietly cry, but unsuccessfully lets out a whimper*  How do you see all of this?

Justify *holds out his hand*  Take my hand, I'll prove it.  *Willy takes his uncle's hand regretfully, fearing the worst.*  Close your eyes and open your mind.  Think of only that woman.  I want you to see it.  *Willy closes his eyes, fear filling up his entire mind.  Suddenly, horrid images of blood appear. A woman drenched it in holds a knife in her hand, laughing uncontrollably.  It flows down a stairwell.  And then the worst appears.  His wife lays on the floor in her own blood.  A scream can be heard and he sees his children, all together, all dead.  Willy opens his eyes quickly and screams.  He falls off the chair in a pool of tears.  Justify sits back, letting tears flow down his face as well.  He wipes them away as Madame and Fiona come running in.*

Madame:  Willy!!!  *she drops to the floor next to him, taking him in her arms*  Willy, what happened.  Willy?

Willy *screams words*  I'M SO SORRY ... OH MY GOD.  NO NO NO.  KIM ...

Madame *stares up at Justify, whose eyes form more tears.  Suddenly she knows what Willy is talking about*  Willy listen to me, I'm right here.  I have you.  Willy .. everyone is okay. 

Willy *quiets down, but still cries*  Kim .. the images ... no …

Madame:  I know, Willy.  But it's not real.  Look.  *she looks over at a terrified Cole and gestures for him to come over.  Cole stands up and runs to his father*

Cole:  Daddy? 

Willy *looks up at his son and cries more.  Cole throws his arms around him*  I'm so sorry, Cole.

Cole:  Dad, it's okay.  It's okay now.

Madame *comes closer to his face and kisses his cheek*  Hush now, amore.  Enough.  No more dreams.  No more.  *Willy quiets even more and eventually settles.  Justify and Fiona watch them, no emotion shown on their faces.  Madame helps Willy stand up.  Cole places Willy's hand on his shoulder to steady himself.*  I think it is time that we left.

Justify *rises*  I need to speak with him for a minute longer.  He has seen what I've seen, now he needs to be reminded of what has actually happened.

Madame *stares at Justify, both have powerful looks in their eyes, as if two forces clash.  Madame finally gives in*  Okay.  Cole, lets get your brothers and sister into the car.  *she continues to stare*  Justify, when I'm done, so are you.

Justify *gives in to that*  Yes ma'am.  *he takes Willy by the arm and leads him out in to the backyard so Willy can get air*  Willy do you understand why I did that?

Willy *tears still flow and every so often he still chokes*  I had to realize the pain I could've caused ... the *chokes a little* ... the actions that could've been brought up.

Justify:  To realize that you were very wrong.  *Willy nods, tears still flow.  Justify lifts Willy's chin up*  No more tears, boy.  You must remember what goes on now.  Your wife is in the driveway, helping your four children into the car.  They are all healthy.

Willy:  But I could've ...

Justify:  There is no could've.  There is only did.  You did kill her and now your family is alive.

Willy:  Was it right?

Justify:  Yes, in a way. Despite the reason you were there, yes it was right.

Willy:  Uncle .. I ..

Justify:  You haven't found anyone to represent you yet have you?

Willy *arches a brow* How did you know that?

Justify:  Oh this whole uncle's intuition thingggg ...  No, Willy there has been no sign of you being represented in the news, which basically feeds me your entire life.

Willy:  Oh..yea.  *he smiles at the thought, then takes a deep breath*  Uncle Justify, would you please step up to represent me?

Justify:  Because you are my nephew and your wife is still alive, yes.  But I am still upset by this.

Willy:  Understood.  Thank you for ... everything.  *he and Justify stand silently, then hug tightly*

Justify:  No matter how much of a mess you make, you'll always be my brother's son.  Willy smiles and they stop.*  You best be getting out to your wife.  She's got a look, that one.

Willy:  Don't I know it.  *they laugh and he heads out to the car. Madame waits by the driver's side.*

Madame:  I'll drive us home.  *Justify gives Willy one last hug, as does Fiona*  Madame hugs Fiona*  Aunt Fiona you have been a true joy! 

Fiona:  Come back sometime and we'll make cookies!

Madame *laughs* sounds delicious.  *her smile fades a little as Justify approaches*  Uncle Justify ...

Justify:  Kim .. I apologize.

Madame *holds up her hand*  But I thank you.  *they both smile and hug tightly.  Justify helps her into the car*

Justify:  Careful with that baby now, girl.  She's doin' well.  *Madame nods and backs away from the house.  Justify and Fiona wave and wait until the car disappears.*

At Rartigillichal:

Blake *sitting at his desk in his office, puzzling over some verse, glances up as he hears a light tapping at the door*  Come in.  *the door opens and Chírilo steps in.  Blake smiles*  Look at you, in your best dress!  What are you playin’ at?  Or are Manouche and Alifi taking you to high tea at Celeste?

Chírilo *looks a little confused*  Manouche said you prob’ly forgot.  She sent me to fetch you.  She says the funeral starts in ten minutes.

Blake:  What?  What funeral?

Chírilo:  Th’ funeral.  That’s all she said.  C’mon, she and Alifi are out in the garden.

Blake *rises*  The garden?? … Chírilo, where’s Kat?

Chírilo:  She’s still asleep in her room.  Manouche said it’s too bad, ‘cause she says Kat talks real … real … *she frowns, trying to remember the word*  … it’s like elephant … ellykent …

Blake:  Eloquent?

Chírilo:  Yeah!  Anyway, she said not to bother her, she needs her rest.  But you’re to come right away.  *she shrugs a little, turns, runs from the room*

Blake *stares after her, sets his papers aside, leaves the office.  He stops at a hall closet, finds a nice black jacket, puts it on.  Goes outside to the flower garden behind the main house, where he sees Alifi, Chírilo and Manouche, all dressed in fine but sober clothes, Manouche all in black.  Alifi catches Blake's eye, silently implores him to play along.  He nods slightly to her as he approaches; apologetically, to Manouche*  Sorry honey, I – I lost track of the time.

Manouche *kisses him gently*  No worries, love.  *she indicates for him to stand by her side; looks at them all, clears her throat*  We’re not ‘ere jus’ to say goodbye.  We’re also ‘ere to celebrate a life, as it were.  Varden was always hard-workin’, good natured, an’ a testament to th’ adage, ‘slow an’ steady wins th’ race.’  Unfortunately, ye can’t win ‘em all.  An’ so it was that Father Time finally caught up with Varden early this mornin’.  *she stops, overcome with emotion; looks at Chírilo, nods*

Chírilo *raises an eyebrow, steps forward with a tiny, satin-lined jewelry box, its lid raised.  On the satin rests a dead snail.  Chírilo crouches down, gently sets the box on a flat rock placed before a small hole that had been dug under one of the sunflowers.  Chírilo looks at Manouche again, a little unsure; Manouche nods reassuringly, takes a handkerchief from her sleeve, dabs at her eyes.  Chírilo nods, rises, wipes the dirt from her knees, speaks in a clear voice as she gazes down at the snail.*  Ashes to ashes, dust to dust … au revoir, Varden.

Manouche *smiles at her through tears, then looks at Blake and Alifi*  Would either o’ ye care t’ say a few words?

Alifi *glances at Blake, then steps forward*  I would just like to say that Varden will indeed be missed.  And … and … we can take comfort in the fact that … that his children will carry on as he would’ve wished.  I, ah, just saw one of them on the garden gate as I was passing …

Manouche *sobs*  I saw ‘im, too.  Spittin’ image of his dad.  *she swallows, looks expectantly at Blake*

Blake:  Oh … uh … let’s see … *he thinks a moment, then a few lines come to him:*

I went to the Garden of Love
And saw what I never had seen
A chapel was built in the midst
Where I used to play on the green

Manouche:  Lovely.  *she steps up, crouches down, picks up the box.  She stands up, holds the box up, just above her head, closes her eyes*  Sweet repose, ma petit.  We now deliver you to your guardian angel, who will accompany you on this, your final journey.  *she’s about to lower the box to close the lid and place it in the ground, when they’re interrupted by a loud squawking from overhead.  They watch in dismay as a large seagull swoops down, snaps the snail from the box and carries it away.  Manouche stares at the empty box, looks at the others, shocked*

Blake:  Well … looks like the angel has landed.  *Alifi and Chírilo look at him for a moment, then burst into laughter*

Manouche *glares at them*  How can ye laugh at such a time?  I’m surprised at th’ lot o’ ye.

Blake *tries not to laugh, moves closer to her*  C’mon, honey, it’s just a snail …

Manouche *steps away from him*  Ye, of all people, ‘avin’ so little regard fer life!  ‘Jus’ a snail’ … try tellin’ that t’ his loved ones he left behind!

Chírilo *thoughtfully*  At least he didn’t end up as escargot.  *they all turn to look at her, surprised; she shrugs*  That’s what snails are called in Manouche’s cookbooks.

Alifi *quickly, to Manouche*  I – I’ve been teaching her how to cook …

Chírilo *adds*  I guess Varden is escargot for that seagull, now.  *Blake and Alifi stifle laughs*

Manouche *angrily*   Well, I mus’ say ye all disappoint me.  *tears fill her eyes, she turns abruptly and runs from the garden to the house*

Alifi *puts a hand on Blake’s arm as he starts to follow her*  Let me, Blake.  You and Chírilo stay here.  *she runs after Manouche, finds her in the living room, pouring a drink*  Are you all right, bird?

Manouche *shakes her head, takes a drink from the glass, sets it down*  I dunno, luv.  I don’t know what’s ‘appenin’ to me.  *she turns to Alifi, her expression anxious, waves a hand in the direction of the back of the house, the garden*  I don’t know what that were all about.  Granted, I’m fond o’ life in all its forms, but … blimey, I know it were jus’ a snail.  *she removes the black cap she’d put on for the funeral; her hair tumbles around her shoulders, she runs a hand through it impatiently*  It were like I could hear meself but I couldn’t stop meself from talkin’.  I knew it were nonsense, but it were out o’ me control.  *she paces a few steps back and forth*  Me emotions are runnin’ amok.  One minute I’m fine, an’ th’ next minute … *she stops, tugs at her skirt irritably*  An’ me clothes are all so uncomfortable ‘ere lately.  Blast, on top o’ everythin’ else, it would appear I’m gainin’ weight …

Alifi *eyes widen, she looks at Manouche carefully*  Gaining weight?  And you’re emotions are all over the map?  *she smiles knowingly*

Manouche *looks at her, frowning, then raises her eyebrows*  No … no, it ain’t possible.  Ye know that as well as I do, luv.  It ain’t physically possible.

Alifi:  Well … *pauses, trying to think*  What about the snakebite?  The Guardians themselves said it was unknown how the venom would affect a dreamer.  Perhaps it has undone the curse that was put on you.  *she walks over to her, puts a hand on her shoulder*  You must admit, the symptoms are—

Manouche *interrupts her, afraid to hope*  No, it can’t be!  *she quickly spins away, back to the buffet where she left her drink, picks it up, finishes it.  She sets the glass down, turns, looks at Alifi, a glimmer of hope in her eyes*  D-do ye think it’s possible?

Alifi *grins*  Remember where we live, bird.  Anything is possible.  *nods toward the buffet*  You’d best put a stop to imbibing until you find out, though.  Just in case.

Manouche *glances down at the glass*  Aye.  Reckon yer right.  I ‘ave to find out.  *she sinks down on the sofa, her face full of wonder; looks at Alifi again*  Don’t breathe a word o’ this t’ Mr. Blake, savvy?  I don’t want t’ get his hopes up in case it …

Alifi:  No worries, it’s between you and me.  *she reaches in the pocket of her skirt, takes out a small notebook and pen, scribbles on a page; tears it out, gives it to Manouche*  Here … this is the name of a doctor I’ve known for years.  He’s Rom, and he’s accustomed to those of us with unusual abilities.  He’ll be very sympathetic to your … special needs, and questions you may have.  He’s not far from here.  Give him my name, I’m sure he’ll be happy to assist.

Manouche:  Cheers, luv.  *she folds the paper, puts it in a pocket, looks up at Alifi*  I feel th’ need t’ be alone fer a time.  D’ye think ye could—

Alifi *holds up a hand*  Of course.  I’ll take Chírilo and Blake over to the guest house to eat.

Manouche *arches a brow*  Eat?  Eat what?

Alifi *smirks*  Have you forgotten the big post-funeral spread you cooked up?  It’s all set up at the guest house, ready to go.  You were cooking for hours.

Manouche *groans*  Oh by th’ powers … *laughs*  Right, let’s not ‘ave it go t’ waste!  Tell ‘em I’ll be there directly.  Tell ‘em I’m sound, I jus’ need t’ … I need t’ think fer a few minutes.

Alifi *smiles, leans over, embraces her, kisses her cheek*  Take all the time you need, dear.  I’ll explain it to them, they’ll understand.  *she winks, turns, leaves the house*

Manouche *watches her go, then grabs a pillow, hugs it close over her stomach as if to protect the life that may have begun inside her; she smiles a little uneasily as she lets her mind wander, contemplating all the possibilities … *