The pre-wake agitation was shaken off in the cars from Dad"s to the cemetery, the service in the chapel and, by the time the mourners reached the graveside, the mood was respectfully sombre and funereal. The women especially, shedding floods of tears for the boy thug they were burying. This mood of solemnity though was disturbed by the incongruously joyous rendering of Greensleeves, the mechanical tune ceaselessly repeated and broadcast over a tinny Tannoy system.
GreensleevesThe mourners looked around for the source of this cacophonic grating tune, annoyed that someone could be so disrespectful, but the source of the agitation was not seen until it was too late. An ice cream van came into sight, careering at speed, down the central avenue, weaving around, occasionally veering off the pat
