wasn’t one to argue with, and Stanley had little choice other than to agree and reluctantly forgive his son. Trouble was, deep down he hadn’t – it was all pretence.
As the twins appeared, there were lots of emotional condolences. Vicki, Jessica’s heavily pregnant best friend, sobbed as she clung to Frankie. ‘I loved your mum so much. She was such a wonderful woman. I’ve already told Dougie, if we have a little girl, I want to name her Jessica.’
Tears were streaming down her face, but Frankie forced a smile. ‘Mum would have been honoured,’ she whispered.
As more and more people arrived, Stanley became increasingly anxious. All he’d wanted was a quiet send-off for his daughter and already it was turning into a bloody circus. The driveway was packed with people he didn’t know and Stan was furious that Eddie’s brothers had shown their faces. It would have been bad enough if they had turned up at the church, let alone coming to the house beforehand. Surely they were aware of what Eddie had done? Didn’t they have any remorse or guilt whatsoever?
By the time the hearse arrived, the driveway was a mass of beautiful flowers.
As she cuddled her grandchildren, one on either side, Joyce couldn’t bear to look at the coffin she’d so carefully chosen. It just didn’t seem possible for Jessica to be inside that box. Trying to suppress her emotions, Joyce took a deep breath. She had to keep it together in front of all these people. Stanley was in a terrible state and somebody had to look after the twins. Aware that the undertaker was ready to take Jessica on her final journey, Joyce led Frankie and Joey outside.
Seeing his father almost collapse with grief, Raymond held Stanley’s arm to support him. ‘I’ve got you, Dad. Just hold my arm and walk with me,’ he told him.
Joyce had insisted they just have the one family car. She’d never got on with her parents – she hadn’t even seen them for years – and they were going straight to the service. Jessica’s other grandparents, on Stanley’s side, were both dead.
Joyce, Stanley, Frankie, Joey, Raymond and Polly sat in the hearse behind the coffin. Everybody else was to make their own way to the cemetery. In normal circumstances there would have been at least three or four cars laid on for Eddie’s sons, brothers and family. However, the circumstances surrounding Jessica’s death were anything but normal.
As the chief undertaker walked in front of the hearse, the cars crawled along behind him.
Stanley was furious as he saw how many reporters were taking pictures on the road outside. ‘Couldn’t they have left us alone for just one day?’ he mumbled.
Raymond put a comforting arm around his father’s shoulder, but it was quickly brushed away.
Noticing the young reporter who had given her a wonderful write-up in the Daily Mirror, Joyce gave a solemn wave. Stanley went apeshit. ‘Our daughter is lying in that coffin in front of us. Show some respect, you stupid woman. Fucking parasites, they are.’
Raymond put his other arm around his mother. This was as hard a day for her as anyone and acting normal was just her way of coping.
Frankie and Joey clung to one another throughout the short journey through the lanes. Neither could believe that they would never see or hear their mother again. As she stared at the coffin, Frankie thought of her father. Throughout her childhood, Frankie had always been a daddy’s girl. She had his dark features, fiery temper and impulsive nature. Joey looked nothing like Frankie or their dad. He was blond, mild-mannered and a clone of their mum.
‘Do you think Dad knows that Mum is being buried today?’ she whispered to her brother.
Joey looked at her in horror. ‘Don’t mention his name. How could you Frankie, today of all days?’
As the rest of the journey continued in silence, Polly studied Raymond’s family. They were a funny bunch, to say the least, especially his parents. Polly’s own parents had been horrified when Jessica’s murder had made all the nationals. They’d known that Raymond worked with Eddie and they were worried about what she’d got herself involved with.
‘I know you’re very keen on Raymond, but there’s plenty more fish in the sea. Why don’t you walk away while you still can?’ her father had urged her.
Polly had taken no notice of her mum or dad. They weren’t exactly whiter than white themselves. She was besotted by Raymond, in a way that a woman could only dream of. She wasn’t stupid – she’d always known that he was a bit of a rogue, but even so, the circumstances of Jessica’s murder had frightened the life out of her.
Raymond had recently made a promise to her. He’d sworn that he would give up the job he was doing and find a normal nine-to-five number.
‘Are you OK, Ray?’ Polly asked, squeezing his hand.
Raymond nodded, but said nothing. Obviously, working with Eddie over the years, they’d seen and been responsible for many a dead body. Remembering how Jessica had looked, Raymond felt physically sick as he stared out of the window. The sight of his sister’s bullet-torn corpse would prey on him for the rest of his life. There wasn’t an hour that went by when the death of Jessica didn’t enter his thoughts. His sister had been one of life’s beautiful people. Thinking back to when they were kids, Raymond nervously bit his lip. Life without her was pretty much unbearable, and he was dreading doing his speech.
When Joyce stepped out of the hearse, she was surprised by the number of people already at the church. They’d tried to keep the funeral small and private, and she was thrown by the crowd of mourners that had turned up. Grabbing the distraught Joey and Frankie, Joycie bowed her head as she led them into the church.
Raymond had instructed all of Eddie’s family to sit well away from his parents. ‘I know none of this is your fault, lads, but because Eddie did what he did, it ain’t appropriate for you to sit near the front.’
Eddie’s sons from his first marriage, Gary and Ricky, were devastated by Jessica’s death. They’d loved her immensely, and over the years she’d been a better mother to them than their own. Seeing their dad in prison had broken both boys’ hearts. They knew how much Jess had meant to their old man, and what had happened was the tragedy of all tragedies.
Eddie had only agreed to see them the once. He was a broken man, a shadow of his charismatic former self, and had sat opposite them in bits. Neither Gary nor Ricky had known what to say or do. It was a surreal situation that had devastated everybody. The only words of comfort they could offer their father were to promise to continue the family business and do him proud.
‘All right, Gal? Packed innit?’ their uncle Ronny said in a loud voice, as the boys now entered the church.
Seeing that Ronny’s eyes were already glazed, Gary put his finger to his lips. The service was about to start, and a drunken Ronny causing havoc in his wheelchair was the last thing the vicar needed.
The vicar cleared his throat. He was a seasoned professional, but this particular service was difficult, even for him. ‘Today we are here to commemorate the life of Jessica Anne Mitchell,’ he said.
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as parts of Jessica’s life were remembered. The twins and Stanley were inconsolable. Joyce couldn’t look at them; if she did, she’d break down, so she ignored their sobs and stared at the vicar.
‘Can we open our hymn books at page twenty-one?’
As
