It was heartfelt and, looking into her deep-blue eyes, he decided then and there that he was not going to let Freddie ruin this moment, this day, or this wonderful journey they were about to embark on. He would look after this girl, and he would try to ensure that she never knew an unhappy day in her life. And if she ever did, it would not be because of him.

'Maggie, I love you, girl, and I promise you will never know hurt from me.'

Jackie was dancing nearby with Joseph and, hearing the words, she wanted to cry. Not just for them and their obvious happiness, but because she was alone and she was living a lie. She saw Jimmy kiss her sister gently on the lips, his arms protective as he held her, and her sister's eyes so trusting and so bright as he whispered in her ear.

'Ozzy sent you something wonderful, baby.'

Maggie was nonplussed and she laughed as she said, 'What? What you on about?'

Pat was nearby now because Jimmy had motioned to her to join them. Jimmy placed the keys in Maggie's hand and she stared at them in bewilderment.

'What are these for, then?'

Pat took her cue and said happily, 'It's a salon, babe, and it's yours. Ozzy has also earmarked ten grand for you to do it up exactly how you want.'

Maggie's scream could be heard all over the Irish club. People snapped their heads in her direction and then smiled as they realised she was squealing with happiness. She was hugging Patricia and then jumping up and down with glee as she told everyone what had just happened.

Jackie stood back. Unlike her father, who was congratulating his daughter profusely, she felt the usual jealousy and antagonism. As always, Maggie had been given it all on a plate.

The news went round, the congrats were given, and Jimmy was once more proud that Ozzy had seen fit to reward them so generously. It set the seal on a perfect day and he took her back into his arms to the strains of The Temptations and 'My Girl'.

As they swayed together, Freddie walked through the door. He was in his morning suit and he looked dishevelled and drunk. Sighing, Jimmy watched as he strode purposefully over to his mother.

Maddie stood up and greeted him, but the smile did not reach her eyes.

Then Freddie began walking her out of the room. He shrugged at Jimmy, who, against his better wishes, followed him outside with his new wife in tow. He knew the eyes of the room were on them and wondered if he was going to have to fight him this night, of all nights.

'What happened to you, then?' he asked.

Freddie held out his arms in supplication. 'I am so sorry, Jimmy, but me dad's topped himself.'

It was Maggie's, 'Oh my God,' that started Maddie off". She was wailing like a banshee, a terrible, lonely sound like a wounded fox, high and filled with such pain it was almost unbearable to listen to. It was this terrible keening that brought everyone outside to hear the terrible news.

But even as he commiserated with him, spoke all the appropriate words, Jimmy was sure that it was not the real reason for his blanking his wedding, and he knew that Freddie was well aware of that.

Book Two

Chapter Ten

Jackie watched as her son demolished another Easter egg, stuffing it into his mouth and barely chewing the chocolate before grabbing another one. He would be sick soon and he would cry, then the whole cycle would start all over again.

As usual mere were too many eggs, too much chocolate, and she did not have the energy to tell him to wait until he had eaten his dinner. He never ate real food, not in this house, anyway. He ate crap, and she had stopped trying to make him do any different.

His tantrums were legendary, and his sisters had gone ahead to their aunt's house rather than sit and listen to it all. He had been calling them names since he had awoken at five thirty that morning. He had sat up all night watching videos, and had not deigned to go to bed until gone two.

It was driller killer that kept him quiet at the moment, and the more violent the movie, the more he became engrossed. Jackie knew she should stop him from watching them, but it was the only time they got any peace. He loved the blood, and as Freddie and Jimmy were now the main people involved in video piracy, it was only natural that the boy should want the films that were so easy for them to locate.

Little Freddie thought it was funny when he watched the blood and gore, but it was as if he had no concept of pain because of them. If he had a hammer, he would hit you with it and laugh. She knew this because he had done it countless times. It was like living in a nightmare.

Pouring another glass of vodka, she sat down and wondered if Freddie was going to be back in time to go to Maggie's for their dinner. It was Easter Sunday and the whole family would be there. Maggie's was now the place where everyone got together on high days and holidays. Maggie with her dinner service and her tablecloths. Maggie the cook and the golden girl. With her top-of-the-range car and her fucking beauty salon. She really thought she was something special.

Jackie glanced at the clock and knew she would have to get going soon or she'd be late for dinner. One good thing with Maggie: at least there would be plenty of drink and grub at her house.

If Freddie didn't come quickly then she would go on her own, she was used to it these days. She had stopped expecting him, had learned to just wait and see when he arrived. It was easier for her in the long run because it meant she could have a drink in peace.

He acted as if she had some kind of problem - this from a man who was drunk and drugged every night of his life, and all day as well if he could get away with it. He had even hinted, in their more antagonistic rows, that it was her drinking that had caused their son problems. It couldn't be the fact that his father never came home and treated them all like dirt when he did, could it. He was blaming her for the way Little Freddie was, when he was a replica of himself, from the temper, to the single-mindedness and the complete and absolute disregard for his safety, or anyone else's for that matter.

To call her a drunk was one thing, but after the first visit from social services, he'd asked if she thought maybe Little Freddie had foetal alcohol syndrome? Where would he get a term like that from? It was something she had never heard about, had never even known existed. That jibe had hurt her because, deep inside, she had a terrible feeling there just might be a grain of truth in it.

She gulped at the drink. It was her anaesthetic against the world, against her family who pitied her on the one hand, and who blamed her for her problems on the other.

Little Freddie, as he was known, even though at seven he was already wearing the clothes of a ten year old, stood up and walked to his mother. 'Are we going?'

He was getting irritated. He hated being alone with her. He liked it when he was surrounded by people, when he was the centre of the universe. But even his doting sisters were getting fed up with him and his attitude, and he was finally learning to act lovable now and again to keep them interested.

He kicked his mother on her shin, and she leaped forward and slapped him hard across the side of his head. She caught his ear with her ring and he screamed loudly, 'You fucking bitch, you fucking whore.'