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– but their care had become the only thing that mattered.
    As the coffin reached the courtyard, the bugle call faded. It had been note perfect. The organ sparked up, which seemed to be the signal for everyone to exchange a few hushed words.
    The cathedral began to empty from the front. Red Ken and Dex filed past. Red Ken gave me another little nod and gestured discreetly to meet outside. Dex didn’t seem to understand protocol. He grinned from ear to ear as the tall one slid her sun-gigs back on, and gave me a big slap on the shoulder. ‘Great, wasn’t it? Splendid selection of hymns. I wouldn’t mind the same when I crash. Looking forward to the wake.’ He made a coming-for-a-drink? gesture.
    I nodded and waited for my turn to leave.
    By the time I got outside, the hearse was pulling away. Everyone in uniform saluted the coffin and the people in three black limos leaving for the private burial.
    Then the mayhem began.
    ‘Great service, wasn’t it?’ they all bellowed to each other. But unlike Dex, who’d meant it, they were just going through the motions.
    A voice piped up behind me that would have done the Tetley Tea Folk proud: ‘I’d rather have a shite life than a good service – that right, Nick?’
    I turned and now I could smile. ‘How’s it going, Red?’
    ‘Better than it looks as though it’s going for you, son. Look at you – shit state. Get yourself a decent suit.’ He produced a pack of Benson & Hedges.
    I shook my head, pointing at the disappearing black limos. ‘You’ll be hitching a lift in one of those any minute now, if you keep on with that shit.’
    ‘Good to know you still care, lad.’ He put one in his mouth and coaxed a flame from a purple disposable. He nodded across the cobblestoned courtyard. It had started to glisten in the light drizzle. I pulled up my collar and we started to walk.
    ‘How you been, anyway?’ he said. ‘I haven’t heard much about you since you left.’
    ‘This and that.’
    ‘The Firm, Dex said.’
    ‘Only when I first got out. I binned it. They hated me anyway.’
    He laughed. ‘They hate everyone, lad. You want a lift up to the do?’
    We’d reached the road. Red Ken pressed a key fob and the indicators flashed on a long silver Merc.
    ‘Whoa, you haven’t done badly!’
    He grinned as he opened the passenger door for me. ‘Better than most. Still way behind Tenny, of course.’
    I nodded. ‘But he never made prime minister.’
    ‘He still owes us our fucking peerages.’ He waved to a couple of lads who recognized him, threw away his half-smoked B&H and opened the driver’s door. He got in and played about with his seatbelt.
    We nudged into the traffic as the one big wiper silently removed the rain. I sank back into a world of black leather. The Premiership player in the dark grey suit was standing back from the crowd, watching the Merc disappear. ‘How’re Chrissie and the girls, Red?’
    He concentrated for a moment on the road as we wove through groups of mourners wandering oblivious to the traffic because they were too busy waffling to the mates they hadn’t seen since the last funeral they’d all been to.
    Finally he shook his head. ‘She binned me. The youngest is in the States. The other married a hairdresser and fucked off to Australia. Can’t blame them. Fuck-all left in Brown’s Britain, is there?’ He continued before I could even draw breath, keen to change the subject. Fair one. ‘What about you? Remarried? Kids?’
    ‘Nah.’
    ‘So it’s just you on your own, is it? Nicky No-mates-and-no-money?’
    I smiled. ‘Yep, just me. Who’s the woman?’
    ‘In the sun-gigs? Cinza. Not a clue why she’s with him. Maybe she saw him in his running shorts. She works in London for some Italian fashion mag.’
    The one-way system was blocked. It would have been quicker to walk. The Merc finally glided into the car park opposite the drill hall.
    ‘What do you do, Ken? How do I get one of these?’
    We climbed out into the