Personally, Joseph couldn't take to the child, not that he would ever say that out loud. His wife and all the other women in the family thought baby Freddie was the second coming. But he had his father's shifty eyes, and he was a lazy little fucker. Blood will out, as his old father used to say, and he had always been right.

Joseph was annoyed that even on his daughter's big day Freddie somehow managed to overshadow it. Maggie smiled at him as he lifted her veil over her head, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a skinny black man with dreadlocks and a morning suit moving along the front row and sitting himself next to Jimmy. He guessed this was the new best man, and held back his anger that Freddie, as usual, could not be depended on.

Maggie was finally married, and even though she had not expected Glenford Prentiss as the best man he had done an admirable job at such short notice. Jimmy had become very good friends with him, and she liked him a lot. He was nice, his girlfriend Soraya was a star, and they had had some great nights out together.

Jimmy was acting as if nothing was amiss but she knew he must be really smarting, because unless Freddie had been nicked, he had more or less snubbed them both on the most important day of their lives. Even Jackie was looking sheepish, so it showed Maggie how serious this breach of etiquette was.

In her heart of hearts, though, she hoped he didn't turn up. He was a loose cannon and she wanted the reception to go off without a hitch, a fight or drunken brawling. Without Freddie there, the odds of anything like that happening were cut by ninety per cent. But she was happy – he was finally her husband and so for her Jimmy's sake she hoped that Freddie would turn up just to put his mind at rest and make his day.

Jimmy kissed her hard on the lips outside the church and everyone cheered, but she could feel the tension in him and cursed the man who even on her big day could take the shine away without a thought. She smiled her best smile, though. Whatever she felt inside she was not going to let anyone see it. They were husband and wife and that was all that mattered.

Maddie was sipping a brandy and Coke and watching her grandson being taken round the room and shown off. It was a lovely reception, and she wished her husband could have been persuaded to leave the house to enjoy it. She had told everyone that he had the flu, and this flu had been around for so long no one expected anything else. It was like he was dead, but she had not buried him.

Freddie's absence from the church had been noticed and, she was sure, commented on. But inside, like Maggie, she hoped that he kept away. He ruined everything he touched, he was like the Jonah in the old myths. He was her son and she hated him these days.

She sighed and swallowed down her drink in one go. It was difficult, this constant smiling and pretending everything was hunky-dory when in reality all she wanted to do was place her head on the table and cry until she had no more tears left. But she couldn't. It was all about the con, all about how you were perceived. She was too old for this game. She had lost the urge for it many years before, and now all she wanted was to go home and sit with the husband she loved and who smiled at her and agreed with everything she said.

She hoped that young Jimmy and his new wife had a better shot at marriage than they had. She had a feeling that they were going to fare better than most because, as young as they were, they were so obviously in love. But then so had been the majority of the people in this room on their wedding days. It was a matter of whether that love survived the trials and tribulations of everyday life.

As Lena told anyone who would listen, Maggie wasn't even pregnant, they were young and in love, simple as that.

If only things could stay that simple.

Freddie and Patricia were in bed, and even though he was out of order, the chance to be with her was too good to miss. At least that is what he told himself, though really he knew she was an excuse.

He had dropped the taxi off at a scrap-metal yard in South London and watched as it had been crushed with Hapless Harry in the boot, then he had gone back to the house to make sure they had cleaned away everything to do with the man. He knew the girls would not be able to resist using any credit cards that might be floating around. He had disappeared, and that was that. The last thing they needed was his cards being kited around Brentford shopping centre.

Then Patricia had offered him a lift, because he had no car and had been dropped back at the house by one of the men from the scrappy who was after a freebie with the girls for his time and effort. He had realised then that the wedding was a no go, and in fact he'd known all along that he was not going to show up. He would have started a fight with a complete stranger if he'd had to in order to keep away.

Something inside him had berated him, told him that nothing should keep him away from Jimmy's big day. That it would cause bad blood, because Jimmy had put a lot of store on his wedding, and he also put a lot of store on Freddie being his best man. It was an honour, and on one level he was gutted that he had let him down, but he also knew he would now be the talk of the wedding, and, like Jackie, he needed to be the centre of attention no matter what.

Patricia got out of the bed and lit a cigarette. She sighed and yawned. 'You had better get your arse in gear and show your face, hadn't you?'

He sighed. 'Bit late now.' He grinned lazily at her and patted the sheets. 'Come back to bed, I've fucked meself now anyway.'

His arrogance, as far as she could see, knew no bounds. She stood up and said nonchalantly, 'No way! I am invited to the reception and I am going, mate. I like little Jimmy and so does Ozzy. I have to give them their wedding present, Ozzy spent ages agonising over it.'

With those few words Freddie finally realised exactly what he had done. He would have to justify a blanking of this magnitude with something big.

The Irish club was packed now, and the reception was in full swing. Even the priest was drunk, and leading a private singsong of Irish rebels' songs in the corner by the bar.

Maggie was still wearing her long ivory dress and her hair was still perfect, and Jimmy gazed at her in wonderment. She was finally his, and they were going to be together for ever.

There was plenty of food, the drink was flowing freely, everyone was having the time of their lives, yet for all his smiling and joking Jimmy had never taken his eyes off the door.

Freddie had been a complete no-show.

He felt in his pocket for the keys given to him by Patricia. They were the keys to a small hairdresser's in Silvertown, and he was astonished at Ozzy's generosity. He had yet to tell Maggie but he was saving it for later, for the right moment. When he had explained that to Pat, she had understood his reasoning and told him he was an old romantic at heart.

He had responded with a smile. 'I hope so. I want her to have all the romance and love she can handle.'

Pat had walked away then, and he would have laid money that she had tears in her steely green eyes.

Glenford was talking about his Irish grandfather and everyone around him was in stitches. He had made the day for them, had stepped into the breech, as they say, and Jimmy would be grateful to him for that until the day he died. The wedding had been a success, but to him it had been marred by Freddie's absence. He also knew he would never forgive Freddie for this humiliation.

Maggie went to him then, and she slipped into his arms comfortably. He held her tight and they swayed together to Teddy Pendergrass's 'Love TKO', a record they had made love to so many times. Feeling his disappointment over Freddie's disregard for them she whispered, 'I love you, Jimmy Jackson.'