EPILOGUE
It was no diss any more not to wear black. Kinda lucky, or the girls would be standing there in their undies. As it was, they were lined up like exotically plumed birds on a clothes line. Bev, who’d dug out a dark suit from the back of the wardrobe, was on the opposite side of the grave. They were soaked. It didn’t always rain at funerals – Bev’s dad had been buried in a heatwave – but right now it was tipping down.
There’d been just the eight of them in church plus some under-manager from the home. A fatherly vicar had said nice things about a fifteen-year-old prostitute he’d never met. They’d all sung The Lord’s My Shepherd and Abide With Me. Now it was nearly over.
The first earth struck the coffin. Bev didn’t see who’d thrown it. Could have been the vicar. Might have been Val. The dull thwack startled her. She stiffened, blinked furiously, glad then for the stinging downpour.
She tried to stop herself, but her eyes were stripping away the cheap wood. Shell was down there and the fury and sadness were like a knife in her stomach. She felt a gentle squeeze on her hand. Jules. Words weren’t needed. Couldn’t trust herself to speak anyway. The pressure was there again. She looked down.
The girl was handing her a Kwik Save carrier bag, she leaned close, whispered in Bev’s ear.
“Cassie wants Shell to have it.”
She peered inside. Paddington’s fur was matted now and the peg had come off his duffle coat. Bev nodded. Shell deserved more. They all did.
“We’re off now,” Jules said. “Catch you later.”
She nodded, watched them totter away on their wedgies, wondered who they were waving at. Hoped it wasn’t the vicar. It wasn’t. When she got back to the MG, Vicki Flinn was perched on the bonnet.
“Wotcha, Bev.”
“Vick.”
Bev made the first move. They stood for a while, arms round each other in the rain. “I tried to find you.”
“I know.” She didn’t want to talk about it. Bev couldn’t leave it alone.
“I heard what Hawes did.”
She shrugged. “Over now, innit?”
“I thought he’d kill you, Vick.”
“He probably would, if it hadn’t been for Lucie.”
“How do you mean?”
“Told him she was his kid, didn’t I?”
Bev couldn’t help looking aghast. “And is she?”
“Could be. Who knows?”