Mick was sitting at a table in the middle of a bar. Other people might have needed some big display of solidarity and cheers of 'I don't know what I'd do without you, man.' but that wasn't their style. It wasn't anything Len didn't already know. Besides, Lisa had been hovering like she would cut a bitch and that was more than enough.
There were five filled shot glasses laid out in front of him, a half empty bottle of tequila, an ashtray and a carton of matches. The first two shots were on fire and the edges of the tiny blue flames were almost invisible. He heard the door open and the questioning voice but just reached for another match.
It wasn't until he heard Lisa's challenging voice that he bothered to look up. Nah. Couldn't be. Unlit match in his hand, he looked about the room to see if anyone else had jumped to the same conclusion.