He wasn’t sure if it was in honour of his death or not, but the National Library of Wales on the hill above us was flying their flag at half mast. How nice, I said, not knowing if the man would’ve appreciated it or not. He went to his funeral yesterday. I was the only one in jeans, he said. He learnt things about him he didn’t know before. Though he didn’t know him very well. He was younger than him and was in school with his younger brother. But they did used to drink together. In his drinking days. I’m glad he went. He wavered. I couldn’t hear my brother’s eulogy, he said, he spoke so quietly, I think his voice cracked a little at the end. The played The Waterboys, twice. Nice.
