The Traitor. Kimberley Chambers
TWO
As a distraught Joyce was led from the church by Stanley, Raymond urged the vicar to round the service up. Jessica’s funeral had been completely ruined and the quicker it was over, the better.
Raymond sadly shook his head. Like most men, he was sceptical about the idea of life after death, but if by any chance it did exist, his sister would be horrified by what had just happened.
The vicar quickly wrapped up his speech with a prayer, then led the mourners outside for the burial.
Joyce had all but collapsed and was now sitting on a chair, sipping water and being comforted by friends and the curate. ‘I can’t watch my baby being put into that grave, I just can’t face it,’ she wept.
Urging Stanley to walk on ahead, Hilda and Rita crouched down either side of her. ‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Joycie. Jess knows you’re here and that’s all that matters,’ Rita said kindly.
Jimmy and Jed had now disappeared, but Ronny was still there. Ray caught up with him and gave him a sharp dig in his shoulder. ‘Did you have to kick off in the middle of my speech? Ain’t you got no fucking sense? Why didn’t you wait till we all got outside?’
Looking remorseful, Ronny shrugged. ‘I know me and Paulie fell out with Ed, but he’s still me brother, Ray. When I saw them pikey shitbags there, I just lost it. How dare they fucking turn up?’
Raymond sighed. He felt the same as Ronny did himself. The difference was, he had a brain, so would have handled things better.
As Ronny held out his right hand, Raymond unwillingly shook it. ‘Look, no hard feelings, but I think it might be best if you don’t come back to the house afterwards. Me mum’s proper upset by what happened in the church and it ain’t fair on her.’
Ronny glanced at Paulie. He hated missing out on a free funeral piss-up. ‘I ain’t gonna upset your mum,’ he slurred.
Realising Polly had now caught up with him, Raymond linked arms with her and said no more. Ronny could have a full-scale argument with an ant, and Ray just wasn’t in the mood to row with him.
Joey broke down completely as his mother’s coffin was lowered into the ground. ‘I want her back, Frankie, I really want her back,’ he sobbed.
With tears streaming down her own face, Frankie cuddled him. ‘I want her back as well, Joey.’
Overcome by grief himself, Stanley led the twins away. ‘Let’s go and find your nan,’ he told them gently.
The mood in the hearse on the journey back to the house was extremely sombre. Annoyed with herself for breaking down inside the church, Joyce was the first to pull herself together. ‘Look, I know the service never went as well as we planned, but let’s see if we can give Jessica a good send-off back at home. It’s what she would have wanted, I know it is,’ she said brightly.
Admiring his mother’s strength, Raymond squeezed her hand. ‘I’ll second that. Let’s do our Jessica proud.’
Over in south London, Eddie Mitchell was also having an extremely difficult day. The knowledge that his wife was being buried and that he wasn’t able to attend had torn his heart to shreds. He had been in solitary confinement for five days now, serving his punishment for lashing out at the screws. In solitary, Ed had had very little contact with anyone, and the silence suited him just fine.
The other prisoners did his head in and he couldn’t give a shit about exercising or watching the telly. Nothing mattered any more, his life had all but ended. Chewing his lip, Eddie guessed what the time was. The funeral must be all over now, it had to be. 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