Last Orders

Wick's Farm

We troop back across the field, not saying nothing. You can hear Lenny and Vincey breathing like a little duet. Vince is carrying the jar. He's holding it extra tight and careful. It's like the reason we're out here in this field is because the jar's gone and made a bolt for it and we've had to run after it and catch it. It's all the jar's fault. Except we know it aint, it's the other way round. It's all our fault. Fighting over a man's ashes. And the jar's sitting there in Vince's hands like it's shaking its head at us all, like Jack's inside there peeping out and sighing over us, with a bit of him left behind in the field for the sheep to trample on. He didn't expect this, he didn't expect this at all.

The wind's whipping up on our backs and as we reach the gate the shower hits us good and proper. We just get back inside the car in time to avoid a soaking. We get in the same seats as before. Vincey hands me the jar, wincing as he moves in behind the wheel, and then he looks around for something to wipe away the stains on his sleeve and trousers but he can't find nothing and he gives up and we all sit there for a moment, the engine not switched on and the rain beating against the windows like we might as well be in a boat. I look at Vincey's face and it looks far away and I can hear Lenny wheezing in the back seat. It's as though it's not a car, it's an ambulance. Meat wagon after all It's as though we're all wondering whether we should press on with this exercise or quit now on the grounds of not being up to it. Two detours, one fight, a piss-up and a near-wetting.

Then Vincey sort of snaps to, and switches on the ignition and the wipers. We can see the rain sloshing down on the narrow road and the sky all grey and heavy, but up on the crest of the hill, by the disused windmill, there's a faint gleam on one side of the clump of trees, as though the clouds are going to pass over before long.

Vincey says, 'Right. We want the Canterbury road. Look out for signs to Canterbury. A28 and Canterbury.' He starts the engine.

Lenny says, 'Canterbury?' He stops wheezing. 'We might as well call in there an' all. We might as well pop into the bleeding cathedral.'

He says it like he's joking, but Vince sits there for a bit staring at the rain on the windscreen, not making the car move. He says, 'If you say so, Lenny,' all fierce. 'If you say so. Why shouldn't we take him round Canterbury Cathedral?'

I can feel Vie and Lenny looking at each other in the back seat.

Another fool's errand, another detour. Lenny's turn.

Vince puts the car in drive and we move off. He doesn't speak but I can tell from his face he's serious, he means it, he might even be wishing he'd had the idea himself.

It's even better than a royal blue Merc.

Vie don't say nothing, like he's already paid his forfeit.

So it's me who says, but like it's Vie who's speaking, while I hang on to the wet jar, 'Good idea, Lenny. Good gesture. He'd be honoured.'