Page 142 - 368603 LP250721 AWY AWY AWY Book (238pp A5)

approached his own car and then he got into it and the cortege moved off onto the main road at normal speed.
It had been mentioned during the service that Ian had been fond of a pub called The Fighting Cocks, whose manager was also at the service. I’d spotted this pub as I’d emerged from the Harvester earlier so I decided to have a bev in there. I’d only seen two other guys at the church sporting Sunderland colours but hoped to have some chat with whoever arrived. I was just about to order a pint of Addelstone’s, a beautiful cider in case you don’t know it, when Ian Todd came in and greeted me – I soon confirmed that it was indeed him. I noticed he was wearing a very smart S.A.F.C. tie. He agreed with me that it had been a very moving occasion. We shot the breeze about football and had good crack with the barmaid Liz and the manager himself who soon arrived. He reminded me of Terry Venables and was very pally. He said he supported whichever team was winning, mainly to wind his punters up. Ian had to go home after a couple of beers but I stayed a bit longer and was invited along to the wake, which apparently was taking place at a golf club a mile or so up the road. A taxi duly turned up and I was again invited to come along but I politely declined. I would have felt like an intruder really and there was also the possibility that I may have transformed into Ciderman and ended up with my arm round Niall saying, “Niall-ya-me-best- fuckin’-mate-ya-fucka-ya” or something equally horrible.
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