The Traitor. Kimberley Chambers
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 the congregation stood up, Raymond had to once again physically support his father.
All things right and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all.
Jed O’Hara entered the church and stood quietly at the back. He held the hymn book in his hands, but couldn’t sing because he couldn’t read properly.
Jimmy O’Hara put an arm around his son’s shoulder. Jed was a good boy and had been determined to attend Jessica’s funeral, so he could keep an eye on Frankie. Not wanting his son to become raw meat in a starving lion’s cage, Jimmy had insisted on coming with him. Jed was worried about Frankie; she was carrying his child and he had every right to be there in her hour of need.
Jimmy knew what losing a child was like. His wife, Alice, had been pregnant up until a couple of weeks ago, when she’d suddenly miscarried.
As the hymn came to an end, Ronny Mitchell decided he was busting for the toilet. Being stuck in a wheelchair, he was unable to hold himself like other people could. Nudging his brother, Paulie, he urged him to take him outside.
‘I need a shit. I’ve gotta find a bog,’ he said in an extremely loud tone.
As Raymond stood up to give his speech, an embarrassed Paulie also stood up. Ronny was a nuisance with a capital N at times.
‘Jessica was the most wonderful sister a brother could wish for,’ Raymond began.
While Paulie wheeled his brother towards the exit, a nosy Ronny scanned the mourners. The church was full of villains, most of them mates of Eddie, his father and his uncle Reg. Spotting Jimmy O’Hara’s ugly mush, Ronny did a double take and slammed the brake on his wheelchair.
Because he was staring at the piece of paper he’d so carefully written, Raymond didn’t notice what was happening at the other end of the church and, with tears rolling down his face, carried on with his speech.
‘The day Jessica gave birth to her twins, Frankie and Joey, was the happiest of her life. Even though she was no more than a child herself, she quickly adapted to become the most wonderful …’
Raymond’s speech was stopped in its tracks by Ronny’s drunken voice. ‘Get out of here, you pikey cunts! Hit ’em, Paulie. Go on, fucking do ’em,’ he yelled.
Shocked by the commotion, every mourner turned around to see what was happening.
Jimmy O’Hara held his hands up. ‘Look, we don’t want no trouble. I’ve only come here to support my Jed. He has every right to be here. Jessica was his future mother-in-law and would have been grandmother to his chavvie.’
When Paulie lunged at Jimmy O’Hara, the vicar pleaded for order. ‘Can we stop this awful nonsense? Please respect the deceased and also the house of God,’ he shouted over the loudspeaker.
Uncle Reg eventually broke up the fracas and, with the help of Paulie and a couple of Eddie’s pals, they threw both Jed and Jimmy out of the church.
‘Frankie’s having my chavvie – we’re getting married. Tell ’em Frankie, tell ’em,’ Jed screamed, as he was roughly pushed out of the door.
Frankie went to run to her boyfriend’s aid, but Raymond put his arm out and stopped her. ‘You stay there. It’s your mother’s funeral, and you’re partly to blame for all this,’ he reminded her coldly.
Traumatised, Stanley and Joey clung to one another and, seeing their anguish, Joyce was unable to keep it together any more. Bursting into tears, she