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Roman is still drinking when Kendall enters the bar. Ken still looks shell shocked, like a man who’s lost everything, but he sees Roman and slowly makes his way over to him.
“Oh, hey,” says Roman. “How’s the unemployment line?”
“You tell me.” Kendall slides onto the stool next to him.
“Another over here,” Roman calls to the bartender, pointing at his brother. The bartender swiftly slides another cocktail over to Kendall.
“Well,” says Kendall finally. “I’ve had better days.”
“Yeah. Dad’s funeral seems like a laugh riot now.”
Kendall takes a large drink.
“I’m sorry, for what I said about your kids.” The cut over Roman’s eye is still bleeding. “I think I just wanted you to hurt me.”
“It’s what Dad thought though, right?”
“Yeah, well, Dad was a cunt.” Roman slams his glass down. “That’s the last thing I ever said to him, you know. ‘Are you a cunt?’ Left it in a voicemail. That’s probably what killed him.”
Kendall nods. “I guess we’re both killers, then.”
“What, the waiter dude? Come on, he was British. They’re fucking colonialist pieces of shit. Fuck him.”
“Yeah, that’ll stand up in court.”
They drink some more, then Kendall asks, “Did you ever think I could do it?”
Roman shrugs. “I don’t know, man. Since Dad… went, I’ve kind of just been doing what everybody else tells me to do.”
“Yeah.” Kendall remembers the months after the drowning. Because my dad told me to. Seeing Logan hit Roman had been like a blast of icy water, waking him from his stupor.
“What about Shivvy?” Roman asks. “You planning another murder?”
“She fucked us both, man. She fucked you too, you’re just too numb to realise it right now. She thinks Tom’ll give her a better position than I would.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Roman toys with his glass. “But you know you’re gonna forgive her eventually, so you might as well speed up the process.”
“Not right now. Eventually, maybe.”
“So what are you going to do?” Roman turns to look at him properly.
“I was thinking of throwing myself in the river, but then I decided not to give Matsson the satisfaction.” Kendall shakes his head. “The company’s gone, man. It’s fucking gone.”
“Is that worse than Dad being gone?”
“It’s kind of the same thing.”
Roman stares into his now empty glass. “Ding dong,” he says quietly. “The company’s gone.”