Vince lays there listening to the dull distant sound of the ticking clock, his head hurts the dull throb reverberates inside his skull. The pillow under his is damp with a combination of tears and dribble, he closes his mouth and opens his eyes. The first thing that greets his watery blood shot gaze is the space, the empty space next to him. He reaches out running his hand across the spare pillow it feels soft under his touch, he pulls it close hugging it tight to his chest he breaths deeply, its Howard it smells like Howard.

Vince's heart aches the pain is unbearable he feels like he's dying, he cries out his body releasing the tension.

They gave all the forms to her, to Mabel, they the Doctors walked right past him and they gave them all to her. No one cared that Howard had been Vince's best friend, that he loved him more than it was humanly possible to love another person, none of it was legal it was all just feelings, and feeling don't mean anything Vince had learned that.

Vince is lying in his bed its strange, he's asked himself the question how, why did he want to go back there, back to where Howard had…left him. He still can't bring himself to say it, not that, he can't even think it. He wanted to go back to his flat because, because he didn't have anywhere else to go he doesn't have any money, and he could face the Nabootique, there's too much there to many memories it's Howard's home, it was their home…it's just all too much. He hasn't moved in days, he's only left the house twice since Howard left, once he went to the funeral directors with Mabel to make arrangements and the second time he'd gone back to the hospital to be with Howard. Howard had looked so different from the last time he'd seen him, he'd been grey, really grey and there'd been no possible doubt that he was…gone. Vince had picked out some things clothes, he couldn't decide what Howard would have wanted to wear it had taken him a whole night, in the end he settled for the ghastly coloured suit he'd been wearing at Mabel's wedding, that had been the day Vince had come back and everything had been perfect. Howard always looked nice in a suit, Vince had hoped it was what he wanted. He brushed his hair; Howard is so scruffy Vince wanted to make him look…

He tries to remember what the last thing he said to Howard was, exactly. But he can't, he can't remember. Its all his fault, everything is his fault he should have made Howard go home, or go to the hospital, it's his fault he's gone. He should have been there he should have been with him Howard shouldn't have had to go alone.

'Vince.' His whole body tenses at the sound of his name. Leroy reaches out and touches him, Vince shrinks away he doesn't want anyone to touch him he doesn't want to feel anything, he wants it all to be gone being touched reminds him that he's still alive.

'Mate, it's half ten you should start getting ready for the…' Leroy goes all quiet. Its Howard's funeral. Its different to the last one that wasn't real it had felt more like dressing up, this is real this doesn't feel like dressing up, Naboo isn't going to save them Naboo wont do anything however had Vince begs. That's why he's not coming, he's not welcome he's not invited if Vince sees him he'll kill him, he warned Mabel that Saboo's not welcome either in fact none of the board of Shaman are going to be there.

Vince blames Naboo, for not helping but also because this isn't their life not his and Howard's, their life was never like this before they went to that stupid zoo and met that poison dwarf of a Shaman. Nothing exciting ever happened to them that's true, but at least they'd been safe and Howard had been…

It's all Naboo's fault.

But it isn't, it's his fault…

Vince starts to cry and Leroy tries to hug him. Leroy's not very good a hugging he's better than Howard he's more open, but things have never really been the same between Vince and Leroy since that night when they woke up in Amsterdam completely naked and unaware if they had actually done what they'd both thought they'd done. Leroy might have touches of Vince's famous androgyny but deep down inside he's strictly a muff man. Vince had tried to reassure him that they hadn't slept together and that even if they had Leroy would probably have been the one doing the bumming, but the whole Howard dynamic had unnerved Leroy.

'…the thing.' Leroy finishes, it feels like ages since he's started talking.

Generally Vince isn't known for doing at lot of thinking, but he's been thinking about today a lot about what its going to be like, he's scared that he'll run away at the last second, he wants to run away from everything he wants to find somewhere to hide somewhere that no one will find him. He doesn't want to cry he wants to be strong, he use to be strong.

'Is this your gear?' Leroy quizzed pointing the outfit hanging on the front of Vince's wardrobe.

'Do you want a hand, you know…' 'No, I don't need you to fucking dress me…' Vince shot him a look.

'Sue's making some toast and stuff come out and have some when you've finished, yea.' Leroy leaves closing the door softly behind him, Vince has never known Leroy to be anything but loud but he's always quite now, always cautious, he barely speaks to him afraid he'll say the wrong thing.

Vince takes a deep breath breathing in the last of Howard' s scent which still lingers on the pillow, he steels himself after today he wont have to worry this, this is the last thing once this is done…everything will be over, everything.

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'Naboo give you these.' Bollo greets him in the glass fronted porch way of crematorium.

'I don't want them.' Vince sneered back glancing down at the bunch of flowers. He tries his hardest to hate Naboo but he can't he wishes he was there, he wishes…Vince swallows hard seeing the look of distress on the ape's weather beaten features, without saying anything he holds out his hand taking the bouquet, there's no card there's nothing anyone can say.

The doors are in front of him he suddenly feels like running away it washes over him and he gasps suddenly clutching at his chest.

'Precious Vince!'

'Bollo I, I…I can't, I can't…please don't, I don't want this.' His eyes dart about as he looks for a possible escape a way of making this go away. Bollo doesn't say anything he's just there with holding out his big furry strong monkey arm, Vince clings to him.

The doors open and they're suddenly both inside and its just a bad, no it's worse that Vince could ever have imagined. The first thing he sees if the coffin, Howard's in there, the lids closed he hopes its not too dark in there, Howard doesn't mind the dark but still its…

He clings on tighter too Bollo he must be pulling most of the hair out on his arms, but the ape never complains. They walk down the aisle past the pews Howard is waiting for him at the alter, it's a horrible irony. They always did get everything wrong. Oh god, there it was that past tense it just slipped in without him really even thinking about it. Leroy and Sue are bringing up the rear Vince can feel them behind him. There's not a bad turn out better than Howard's first funeral, Bob Fossil is there, Lester Concrake along with some of the old gimmers from Howard's jazzazise, Howard's annoying permanently smug ex-boyfriend Jack is there too and it looks like he's brought at date, who brings a date to their ex's funeral? Vince is surprised when he spots Mrs Gideon sitting a few rows from the back, the same Mrs Gideon who couldn't have picked Howard out in a line up. Finally he reached the front, the family pew is rather empty there's just Mabel wearing a pair of huge expensive looking black bug-eyed glasses, which cover most of her face and Kitten who's fidgeting next to her a plastic toy digger on his lap. Reluctantly Vince lets go of Bollo, who sits behind him with Leroy and Sue, he slips into the pew next to Howard's sister and before he knows it her hand is entwined with his. He squeezed her hand back and just longs for everything to be finally over.

He wrote stuff down things that he wanted to say about Howard, but he doesn't have the strength, he can't stand there next to Howard's coffin and talk about him in the past tense, say good-bye in front of other people. So after Mabel finishes her eulogy he folds the tear stained piece of paper back into his jacket pocket and just sits there, silent.

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'Mummy.' Kitten muses, nudging into his Mother his forehead creasing in a confused tight little frown.

'Yes, sweetheart?' Mabel keeps her voice low as she wraps one arm protectively over her son's narrow shoulders.

'You said Uncle Howard had gone to Devon to look after my hamster, didn't you?' She paused for a moment before nodding. She knew her son, she could tell when he was on the verge of doing or saying something, he was holding back gazing at the empty space next to him.

'Why, are you here then?' He asks the void of space in a hushed conspiratorial whisper.

'Have you got Hammy with you?'

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After the funeral they go to this house, it's really big and grand and somewhere deep in the countryside. Originally there had been talk of having the wake at the shop, or Vince's flat or Mabel's house. But Vince can't face ever going back to the shop, it feels wrong to have a wake in the same space where Howard…, and Mabel's house was one of the last places they were ever really happy, plus Saboo would have been there. So a big house out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by rolling hills and patchwork fields is the compromise.

Vince watches the trays of food being handed about by anonymous waiters and waitresses in black and white, there are more people there now people who couldn't make the main event. He hasn't eaten anything in days, food is like poison it makes him feel sick he escapes out on to a expensive grand stone terrace, which leads down to a long manicured garden. Mabel is standing there leaning against the carved banister watching her son as he chatters away to himself on the lawn.

'There's some stuff,' She pauses shivering.

'…in boxes in my garage I picked most of it up from the shop yesterday, Bollo…' She swallows her sentence breaking off mid flow once again.

'…Bollo cleared out Howard's room. You should have them, all of them.' Vince just nods.

'The boxes I mean.' She adds quickly, there's a nervous edge to her voice.

'What about your parents?'

'I think that the fact that neither of them bothered to turn up pretty much answers that, Vince.' She snorts with a hollow laugh. Vince wonders why Howard's parents hate him so much, why they hate her. She stubs out her cigarette crushing it under her pointed Versace heel.

'Kitten come on, back inside its getting cold sweetheart!' She calls out to the little boy.

'Awww Mummy five more minutes, please!' Kitten begs.

'No now come on, I'm not in the mood for this, not today.'

Her hand moves up to her face and Vince catches sight of the angry scar across her wrist, he stares at it for longer than he should. He thought about cutting his wrists the blood doesn't bother him, and he's too far gone to feel much pain it's that which bothers him, the fact that it might not work, that he might not die the first time she didn't die, did she? He couldn't face that waking up in the hospital, confronted by his complete and utter failure. Pills, pills are easier, but harder to obtain the prescription ones anyway. He's thought about just over dosing, but Leroy's warned off most of the drug dealers from selling to him, he'd have to go out of London to get his hands on anything; he doesn't have any money not even enough for a one way ticket.

Reluctantly Kitten gives into his Mother's will and he rushes past Vince, he smiles at him waving as he runs by, back into the house.

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She rubs her nose sniffing and snorting, it tickles. Blood trickles from her nostril splashing against the white porcelain of the sink she's leaning against. Howard would hate her for this, he'd give her that look that she dislikes so much, that look when she knows she disappointed him, she always disappointed him.

It's been a good three years, for her that's some sort of a record there was a time in her life when she couldn't get out of bed without being coked up out of her head, she couldn't face the world. Is this a dream? Or something that's fallen out of her broken head? Maybe she's still locked away somewhere…

She feels the familiar tingling, it's like there's plastic running through her veins everything is sharper, quicker, brighter, louder. She can do this, she reassures herself smoothing down the front of her dress, she glances up at the mirror hanging over the sink and the first thing she sees is Howard.