‘Hey man, sorry it’s been so long, but then again you left us so . . .’ He tried to joke but his heart wasn’t in it. He really felt like a drink, any drink, by the neck and covered by a paper bag. That seemed appropriate. ‘So Rabbit died, the day before yesterday. You seen her?’ He leaned against the cold headstone. ‘If you see her, tell her . . . No . . . Ask her what the fuck was she thinking, giving her kid to me? I know I asked but I’m a selfish asshole. She was the adult, you know that, you remember, even when we were kids, four years younger and she was still the boss.’ He looked around; he was alone. ‘You believed, Johnny, you thought you were going somewhere and that this wasn’t the end. Did you? Did you go somewhere? Can you hear me? Give me a sign, please. Tell me I’m not alone in this.’ He didn’t expect a sign, not really.

‘Mwahaha!’ A booming, distorted but familiar voice said from behind him.

‘JESUS! FUCK!’ He slammed his head against the headstone. Francie popped up from behind the gravestone, laughing. ‘You’re so easy . . .’

‘What are you doing here?’ he said, rubbing the bruise that was quickly growing on the back of his head.

‘Same as you,’ he said, and he sat down next to him.

‘What did you hear?’ he said.

‘You being a dope,’ Francie said, and he placed his hand on the stone. ‘You’ll be happy to hear he’s grown into his nose but he’s still the same fucking eejit he was back in the day.’ He patted the stone and turned to face Davey. ‘Johnny says stop being a dick.’

‘I’m scared.’

‘Of course you are.’

‘I can’t mess this up.’

‘You can, and sometimes you will and sometimes you won’t.’

‘I don’t handle change well.’

‘Your life changes every day.’

‘My view changes. My life stays the same.’

Francie thought about this. ‘You should put that in a cracker.’

‘What if I let her down?’

‘I’ll punch you till your dead,’ Francie said.

‘So I won’t do that, then,’ Davey said.

‘Exactly.’ He stood up. ‘Come on, I’m fucking soaking.’

Davey struggled to his feet. ‘I’m not ready to go home yet.’

‘Good thing we’re going somewhere else, then, isn’t it?’

They ran through the graveyard, jumping over graves and any other obstacle in their path and towards Francie’s van.

Davey had been MIA for three hours. In the van he took his phone out of his pocket – four missed calls. There were still two hours to go before Rabbit’s service.

‘We have time,’ Francie said, driving down a familiar road. Davey didn’t have to ask where they were going. He knew exactly where.