Wondering how the service had gone, Ed wiped the sweat from his brow. His Jessica, his beautiful wife, was probably now lying six foot under and it was all his bloody fault. Hearing the jangle of keys, Eddie looked up as two screws walked in.
‘Up you get, Mitchell, you’re being moved early,’ the tall one said.
Eddie looked at the two guards in amazement. He had another two days to do in solitary yet. ‘Why am I being moved?’ he mumbled.
As the two guards grinned at one another, Eddie knew that his already awful day was about to take another turn for the worse.
Over in Rainham, the house had become packed to the rafters, so Stanley escaped to the serenity of his pigeon shed. Fifty per cent of the mourners were probably villains and he couldn’t be doing with any of the dodgy bastards, he’d rather be sitting on his own.
‘You in there, Stan?’
Recognising his best pal Jock’s voice, Stanley opened the door. ‘Come in, mate. I’ve stocked up with bitter; let’s have a beer in here, eh?’
Jock followed him in and sat on the wooden bench. His heart went out to his pal, Stanley and, having a daughter himself, he couldn’t begin to imagine how the poor bastard must be feeling. Cracking open a can, Jock studied the pigeons.
‘I think you should breed Ethel with Willie rather than Ernie next time,’ he said, trying to cheer Stan up.
Stanley shook his head. ‘Ethel hates Willie! Her and Ernie are inseparable, he’d be heartbroken, like I am now,’ he replied, bursting into tears.
Jock moved towards his pal and awkwardly put an arm round his shoulder. ‘Go on, Stan. Let it all out, mate.’
‘I miss Jess so much, Jock. What am I gonna do without her, eh?’
Jock had no answer to Stanley’s question. ‘I don’t know, mate.’
Inside the house, Joyce was knocking back yet another glass of brandy. She studied the people in the living room. She’d been so distressed at the cemetery earlier that she’d barely recognised anyone. Mary, Ginny and Linda, who had been friends with Jessica since childhood, were all there, and lots of the twins’ friends had come to pay their respects as well.
As she stared at the three older ladies with Gary and Ricky, Joycie suddenly remembered who they were. Ed’s auntie Joan, his aunt Vi, and his father Harry’s lady friend, Sylvie. Most families would have been appalled by the heavy presence of the Mitchell clan, but Joycie wasn’t. Being old school, she saw it as a mark of respect, not a fucking liberty.
Feeling smothered by people’s condolences, Joey and Frankie went out in the garden with their friends. Joey was pissed, but Jed had insisted that Frankie only had a couple of drinks. ‘I really fancy another vodka,’ she said to her pals.
Stacey smiled at her. ‘I’ll go and get you one. I’m sure another weak one won’t hurt the baby, Frankie.’
As Demi and Paige followed Stacey into the house, Frankie pretended to Joey that she was going to the toilet.
‘I’m busting to go meself, so I’ll come with you,’ he said.
Frankie was annoyed. ‘For fuck’s sake, Joey, leave me alone for five minutes, will ya?’
Running up the stairs, Frankie shut her bedroom door. She was desperate to ring Jed, to make sure he was OK.
Jed answered immediately, and then launched into a torrent of abuse. ‘I swear on our chavvie’s life, Frankie, if you don’t get your arse down to my trailer in the next hour, I’m gonna come round to yours and fucking drag you down the road,’ he ended.
Not for the first time that day, Frankie began to cry. ‘Please Jed, it’s my mum’s funeral and I can’t leave, not yet. I promise, as soon as today’s over, I’ll sort things out with my family and then we can be together. I’m sorry for what happened earlier with my uncles, but that’s not my fault. Please be patient, Jed. I can’t leave Joey on his own, not tonight. He’s not ready.’
Jed seldom lost his temper, but when he did, he lost it big style. ‘I’ve had enough of this now, Frankie. I know what happened to your old girl was awful, but don’t treat me like a fucking dinlo. I know you’ve had a drink, I can hear it in your voice, and I ain’t having it, not when you’re carrying my chavvie. I’m telling you again, if you ain’t back within the hour, I’m coming round there. I’ve had a gutful of your family and, as far as I’m concerned, all of ’em can go fuck their grandmother.’
As he cut her off, Frankie slumped onto her bed. Joey, who had followed her upstairs anyway and heard her side of the conversation, opened her bedroom door. ‘When are you going to realise that Jed’s an arsehole and he’s no good, eh?’ he said, as he held her close.
‘What am I gonna do if he turns up here? Raymond will kill him, I know he will,’ Frankie sobbed.
For once, Joey was the strong one out of the two of them. ‘Listen to me. There’s Raymond, Paulie, Uncle Reg, Uncle Albert and all Dad’s mates here. Jed won’t turn up here today, trust me. He’s bluffing.’
As he dried her eyes with his handkerchief, Frankie forced a smile. Jed had never spoken to her like that before and she was furious with him. How could he treat her like that, today of all days?
Joey held his sister’s hand. ‘Come on, let’s go back downstairs, and you can sort things out with Jed tomorrow.’
Having finally been enticed out of his pigeon shed by Jock, Stanley was horrified to see his wife not only inebriated, but also laughing and joking with Eddie’s aunts and uncles. Spotting Joycie’s parents, whom he had always liked immensely, Stan sidled towards them. Ivy and Bill were both well into their eighties now and neither looked the picture of health.
‘I’m so sorry I never got much of a chance to talk to you earlier. It was just such a difficult day and I didn’t really know if I was coming or going,’ Stan apologised.
Ivy hugged her son-in-law. Stanley was a lovely man, but her Joycie had never truly appreciated him. That’s why she and her daughter had never really seen eye to eye. Joycie had always blamed her mother for encouraging her to marry Stanley; the silly little cow had always thought she was worth more.
‘I’m so sorry, Stan. Me and you knew all along what that Eddie was capable of, didn’t we? Do you remember Jessica getting married to the bastard? I told you at the reception that he had them eyes – you know, cold and calculating. I’ll never forget it, that man sent shivers down my spine and I just knew he’d ruin her bleeding life.’
Keeping half an eye on his wife, Stanley nodded. ‘I remember that conversation, Ivy. I told you that his eyes reminded me of dead fish.’
Hearing his old woman screech with laughter, Stanley decided enough was enough. Storming over to where she was standing, he roughly grabbed her arm and yanked her into the kitchen.
‘What do you think you’re doing? You senile old bastard!’ Joyce yelled at him.
For once in his downtrodden life, Stanley had the bottle to give her what for. ‘How can you stand there laughing and joking with Eddie’s relations when we’ve just buried our daughter? What is the matter with you, eh? Your parents are disgusted by your behaviour and
