The Black Succession

14

The funeral was a nice service and Andy's family were a friendly bunch.

When Andy told me on the phone, I felt his devastation. I rang a travel agency and purchased tickets to the very next flight to London.

I rang mum and explained the whole lot to her, stating I will be gone for around a fortnight, telling her my mate needed me. She completely understood, telling me to go. I asked her to contact Laurel for me, - I wasn't ready to admit to her I took her number - and apologise for me.

Mum was slightly intrigued but I simply told her I offered to take her home tomorrow and now I can't.

When I arrived in London, I was severely jet lagged but carried on and took out a hotel room for the last hours of the night that was left before calling Andy.

The funeral was traditional and tightly run and I met Andy's older brother and his wife. Andy lost his mother years ago and now all he had was his brother.

I felt for him. I did. I couldn't imagine a world without my parents and siblings. We sat quietly in the corner of a room, drinking brandy. That itself is an acquired taste.

Andy tried to be a good host, but he was just as devastated as his brother, James.

Andrew and James, I thought to myself. How English. Once the wake was over and some guests helped clean up, Andy stared over his glass with brandy, watching people leave.

"Thanks, Cody. For coming. You didn't have to." Andy muttered to me.

"Bullshit. You know I will." I told him.

I bid a good day to several people, many amused by my accent, probably just as much as I am amused by theirs.

It was typical London weather, apparently, grey and gloomy in the skies and the house.

"How long are you staying for?" Andy asked me.

"I'll stay for another day or two, or for a week if you need me." I got up and patted his knee.

I was offered the spare room in the house and as I got ready for bed, I went to make myself a tea when I heard Andy and his brother arguing in the kitchen.

"Bloody hell, James. I can't afford it."

"You should have thought of that before you left to go travelling."

"I worked my ass of four five years to do that. I can't afford the bills here."

"I already have a mortgage to pay. I have my own bills too, Andrew. It's time you grew up and get yourself a proper job. Keep your feet in English soil."

"Aren't you the proper Englishman? Love for your queen and country and hatred for the rest."

"Don't start Andy. I can't afford two mortgages."

I stayed out of sight as the two brothers fought on with each other. I know Andy wasn't 'upper class' like me, but he never asked me for money. He never led on he was ever struggling.

I left them there to quarrel as I went back to the bedroom. I have never known what it's like to be living hand to mouth, to stretch every dollar to get each cents worth. I've never had a responsibility to pay bills and such. I've never needed to.

I pay upfront, I get the goods. That's how I've always done it. Renting hotel rooms, cars, buying crap for myself.

I guess that's one of the pros to having friends. There is only so much one can learn in a classroom. Our parents teach us a variety of lessons, depending on how they were raised to how they raise us. I wasn't raised in a sheltered life. I've known loss and grief, pain and probably even sacrifice. But I was raised financially privileged. I don't know if my parents were meant to raise us this way, but it happened.