Because time had stopped I didn’t sleep.
But the dawn light came.
I watched it.
And the distant bell of St Matthew’s rang out.
Mr Feeney was right.
It was the first day without my best friend.
‘Brendan?’
It was Dad’s voice on the other side of the door. I waslying flat on my bed, I didn’t want to move, stillness meant no pain.
‘Brendan?’
When I turned my head it sent a splintering ache up into my temples and I squeezed my eyes shut. The sound of the door opening on squeaking hinges almost deafened me.
‘Got you a cup of tea and a banana if you want it,’ Dad said, coming into my room and setting the mug and fruit on my bedside locker. ‘How you doing?’
I couldn’t open my mouth, I made the sound of ‘OK’ in my throat.
‘Your mother has a fry going downstairs if you fancy it in a bit?’
I unglued my lips and propelled my vocal chords to work.
‘Has she? I can’t smell anything.’
‘Aye, well, she was just putting the bacon under the grill before I came up, she’s only starting.’
‘Ah right.’
‘Are you heading down?’
‘In a minute maybe.’
‘Dead on.’
He sat silent on the end of my bed for a while.
‘Feeney’s are doing the funeral. It’s on Friday.’
‘Was that Mr Feeney on the phone earlier? I thought I heard it ringing?’
‘It was Aaron. He was letting us know. Ten o’clock on Friday at St Matthew’s.’
‘Are they having a wake?’
‘No, that’s what Aaron was phoning to say, they’re arranging everything with Gerry, er, Mr Feeney and … they’re, eh … they’re sorting that out … arranging it …’
‘Right.’
‘Sure we can talk about the arrangements and all when, um, what it’s all …’
‘Arranged.’
‘Aye, when the arrangements are arranged.’
