Page 43 of Last Night

‘Yeah, that’s my fear. Her dad also chose the names Susannah Carole Octavia,’ Justin says. ‘I’m not sure it’s OK for us to erase that and go: “The S Dog, The Susiemeister General” nicknames on her order of service.’

‘Without being either flip or nasty,’ Ed says. ‘How much will Mr Hart Senior know what’s going on anyway?’

‘Hmmmm.’ We collectively stare sadly and contemplatively into the foam on our second round of coffees – the one you fancy and know you don’t need, that leaves you too wired.

‘I think Susannah Hart,’ I say. ‘That’s her birth certificate name and the name we knew her by. If there’s a benefit to your friends doing your order of service it’s that they knew your taste in a way your parents didn’t. If we put her full name on there, everyone’s first minute will be spent whispering “Carole Octavia lol?” and we know she’d loathe that.’

‘Motion carried,’ Justin says. ‘One point: what if her brother objects?’

‘Hmmm, he didn’t seem the type,’ Ed says, and we all laugh, and I’m glad we can still clown like we used to. It feels like fortitude.

‘… Can I raise a practical point if he does,’ Ed says. ‘Finlay’s signed off on us putting together the order of service. If he doesn’t like the names we chose, he’s going to see that at the same time as everyone else, as they’re being handed out at the crematorium.So what’s he gonna do, huh?You’d have to be a psychopath to start finger-jabbing and shouting at a funeral.’

‘Oh yeah? You need to meet my mum’s family up north,’ Justin says.

‘I wouldn’t rule psychopathy out,’ I say. ‘That’s an inactive amygdala if ever I saw one.’

‘Wasn’t that just the way he was sitting?’ Justin says.

‘Can you translate that from the Eve?’ Ed says.

‘The bit of the brain that doesn’t function in scans of serial killers. How can he be a psychiatrist? He’s like Harold Shipman, posing as a doctor.’

‘Shipman was a doctor,’ Justin says.

‘Well, regardless of how many people he’s murdered, if he kicks off, that’s on him. We’re in the clear,’ Ed says, sitting back.

‘Edward, you crafty ferret,’ Justin says.

‘I think he lets you and I blaze out in front as the bad guys while he’s actually the worst,’ I say, and Ed makes a ‘straightening the brim of an invisible hat’ gesture.

‘Other point of controversy,’ I say. ‘We’re definitely going with theTwin Peakstheme to play us out at the end? I didn’t mention that to Fin, I’m quite glad now.’

‘I love it,’ Justin says. ‘She loved it, it’s so her. She went to that Halloween night as Laura Palmer, didn’t she?’

‘Yep,’ I say. I helped her with that costume. A plastic wrap, blue hair dye, glittery robot face paint and a sign that saidShe Is Filled With Secretson the back. I refuse to dwell on the fact that I daubed silver highlighter down her signature Hart family cheekbones to simulate alluring rigor mortis.

‘If she can see us from anywhere, when that comes on, she’ll laugh out loud. And do a fist pump,’ Justin says.

‘That’s what matters then,’ Ed says. ‘We’re honouring her, not some snark in the third pew.’

‘Amen!’ Justin says.

‘Amen,’ I agree.

‘And give her brother a break too,’ Ed says to me, trying his luck.

‘Sure,’ I say. ‘Leg or arm, lol?’

Heart isn’t possible.

After a pause, I say:‘And you definitely want to do the reading? Whatever I write?’ I say to Ed.

‘Without a doubt.’ He squeezes my hand.

This is what we agreed, through a vale of tears. I can write about Susie but can’t bring myself to perform it. Ed says he can read something, but can’t steel himself to write anything.

Justin has offered to critique it all afterwards.

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