The guy kept taking photos until Andrew dealt with him. The big New Yorker leaned close to the photographer's ear and spoke in hushed tones for a few moments, then the guy picked up his bag and hurried away. Andrew turned back, his face showing that today was not the day, rejoining the others by the graveside.
Jodie looked down into the black earth, at the polished wooden casket. Her arm was tight around Davis, feeling him trembling. He was staring down into the hole too, his jaws clenched, trying to hold it together.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
They looked up in unison, as if roused from the spell of the coffin, at the elegant, blonde-haired woman beside them. Jodie nodded.
"Thank you," she said.
"I really mean that. I know we've... but really. I know how it feels."
"Thank you, Cynthia."
Jodie drew herself up, facing Cynthia now.
"Seems we're even now," Jodie remarked, but then her face clouded. "Sorry. That was awful. I meant, they've both left us."
Her eyes returned to the dark earth and she fell silent for a moment.
"I expect that if there's an afterlife, they're both deep in the whiskey about now, looking down on us. It's the great leveller, don't you think? Harvey and Richard finally retired from the game."
Jodie crushed Davis to her for a moment and then seemed to brighten.
"Will you be coming to the hotel?" she asked.
"Of course. I'll see you there."
Cynthia took her leave, walking over to talk with Andrew and Delilah. Jodie's arm slid from the younger man's shoulders, patting him affectionately on the back.
"What about you, baby?" she asked, softly.
"I dunno. I, uh... I dunno."
His gaze flicked up to a group of young people on the opposite side of the grave, talking quietly amongst themselves.
"Are they coming?" Jodie probed.
"Maybe, and then, I dunno what."
"Why don't you go have a word with them. I'll just have a chat here and then we can all go back to the hotel. Bring them to the reception. Let's have everyone together."
Davis nodded despondently, but he shifted away from the edge of the grave to see his friends. Aidan was the first to notice him.
"Hey, how're you holding up?" Aidan called out, coming up to him.
Rosa followed, trailed by Ant.
"Sorry, this is really shit," Ant remarked.
Rosa gave him a little, sad smile and then folded her arms around him. Davis stood like that, not moving, for a long while, his friends around him. When Rosa broke off her hug, he rolled his shoulders, sniffing, like he was throwing off a heavy load.
"Guess I'm an orphan now," he told them, forcing a nonchalant tone.
Aidan put an arm around his shoulders. "Not quite. You've still got Jodie."
"Step, not bio," Davis shot back.
"Even so. You're not on your own."
Davis met his friend's gaze, his jaw working as if he had more to say, but then he shrugged again.
"Reception's fully catered. You guys in?"
"Sure, love to."
"Yeah," Davis grinned, "Let's do that. Then later, let's go get totally fucked up."
Jodie stepped away from Delilah, leaving her in conversation with Andrew. She watched Davis with his friends, the body language as the young man shrugged it all off. He glanced across at her and she nodded towards the line of cars. He nodded back.
"Andrew, thanks for dealing with that photographer," Jodie said, "I really don't know how they sleep at night."
"Not a problem. I just told him. I said he could put the telephoto lens in its case, or I could slide it up his ass. It's a compliment in a way, shows that Richard was noted in the community."
Andrew ground his teeth again.
"He was a good man, Jodie. He was a good friend."
Jodie's eyes went from Andrew to Delilah and she turned suddenly.
"I'll, okay, I'll see you back at the reception," she called over her shoulder.
Jodie retreated towards the car rapidly, her eyes locked on the vehicle, back straight, chin up, daring not to blink and shed the incriminating moisture over her make-up. Feet crunched in the gravel behind her, approaching rapidly. When she reached the car door, she turned around. Davis strode past her, pulling the handle for her to step inside.
"You're such a good boy," she murmured, gratefully.
Jodie ducked into the quiet, comfortable safety of the car. Davis slid in after her and they pulled away. She watched the rows of headstones go by, reaching out across the seat. When a warm hand took hers, she closed her eyes and the tears finally cascaded down. Neither of them said a word for a long time.
Davis was staring out of his window, without really seeing. The streets went by. He sat stiffly in his new suit, a crisp black tie around his throat, silent.
"The suit looks good," Jodie remarked.
"Thanks."
"You did good. You father would have been so proud."
Davis didn't respond for a moment, then he shifted in his seat.
"I guess I'm getting better at it," he grumbled.
"Well, you don't need to get any more practice, baby. I'm going to be sticking around."
She squeezed his hand in emphasis and their eyes met.
"I mean it. I'm right here, like I was after your mother. We're family. I've known you since you were a baby."
Jodie forced a smile, her cheeks still wet.
"Coming back with me tonight?" she asked.
"To your house?"
"Our house."
"No, yours. Dad left it to you."
