Sunglasses

Andy had parked on the far side of the sprawling car park at the cemetery, Sam saw him standing in the dappled shade on the neat grass. His dark suit seemed to hang a little, stylish yet not quite filled out. He had always seemed so big physically, part of the way he managed to calm all the crazy scenes they found themselves in was the size of him, he filled up places with quiet ease where they had roiled with noise and fear. Andy had his sunglasses in his hand and shaded his eyes against the bright sun, looking across towards the chapel where the crowd milled around the doors. Sam smiled to himself thinking of a conversation they had had once before, at Wayne’s funeral. Andy never seemed bothered by anything and yet he had been angry at the sight of all the men in their dress uniforms and each one in wrap-around sunglasses so that he had gone over and asked them quietly if they thought this was a funeral or a bouncer convention.

Sam rolled the car in quietly next to Andy’s and got out. “Looking good mate, thin”, he said.

Andy smiled and pulled at his cuffs, flicked a small leaf from the breast of his jacket.

“Let’s go over”, he said.