funeral crasher

Yesterday was the funeral.
It was pouring with rain. The day before was like spring in Rome, and today the streets of London are sunbathing again. But the day of Simon's final goodbye, the weather reflected his permanent mood.

It was very crowded, as one might expect with a young person.
I only wished he could see how many people cared. There were lots of my old classmates as well. Some of the girls, even.

We exchanged glances, but didn't know what to say. To them, it could have been me, I kept thinking. I bet they didn't even know for certain which of the skinny friends in the back of the classroom had killed himself, and which one they were gonna see standing next to the grave.

After the funeral, I had a quick chat with Natalee, Simon's sister. I told her how much of a shock it was to me. She stared at me, and at first I thought I had said something wrong or perhaps she didn't remember who I was.

But then she laughed, she actually laughed on her brother's funeral, and she offered me her handkerchief.

"Bugger," I said as I pressed it to my nostrils. "This is what I do, when other people cry," I said helplessly. I immediately realised what a fool I had made out of myself and wished I hadn't said anything.

"Bloody nosey George," she said. "You know, Simon was always so full of you... I used to tease him he was gay. I feel awful about that, now. I'm sorry. I'd just... I'd love to get to know you a bit better. I know it sounds silly, but I feel like I can still get to know Simon a bit better, make it up to him, that way. Can we meet another time?"

I felt a bit like a funeral crasher when I left. But how could I say no to the sister of the deceased?

Tonight I'm having dinner with Natalee. I wonder what Simon would have thought of that.