‘Good.’ But Phil didn’t look convinced. ‘It just felt … like there was more to say.’
‘There’s always more to say.’
‘No, but … you know what it’s been like recently. Everything that’s gone on. Before all this. Family stuff. My … biological parents. All that.’
Marina said nothing. She knew.
‘Well it’s just … I don’t know. It’s like … we’d just bonded. Recently. Properly. Don and me. Fully acknowledged father and son. And now … he’s gone.’
‘At least you had that. Some sons never even get that much.’
He nodded. ‘Suppose you’re right.’
She said nothing.
‘Enjoy every sandwich,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Something Warren Zevon said. Just before he died of cancer. He was asked if he’d learned anything about life. Enjoy every sandwich, he said. Because one day it’ll be your last.’
Marina just stared into her drink. ‘Maybe it’s time we went home too.’
Phil looked round. Don’s old friends were fully engaged in their war stories. Even Eileen was talking to friends. The party had moved on from him and Marina. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Let’s.’
They left the pub and walked down the street arm in arm.
