Now she would shout it from the roof tops and take the consequences with a light heart if he was only still with her.

Jimmy knelt in front of her and she put her head on his shoulder and finally cried, really cried. And once it started she couldn't make it stop. She could hear herself screaming but it sounded like someone else, as if someone else had taken over her body because that shrieking couldn't be coming from her, surely?

And when the doctor finally slipped the needle into her arm, she was so thankful for the oblivion she knew would come that she hoped to God she never woke up again.

Why would her little son put a bag over his head? Why would he do something like that and what on earth would possess him to want to do something like that?

Those were her last conscious thoughts.

Jimmy and Glenford sat in the darkened room and watched as Maggie's chest rose and fell softly. She looked so peaceful that he envied her.

He had held his little boy in his arms for long minutes and kissed his little forehead, and Glenford had cried with him, and they had both sat there in absolute shock and horror at what had befallen him and his family.

Glenford had not tried to talk, he had sat beside Jimmy and he had just been there. It was all he could do now, be there for the man he had come to love and respect as a friend and as a brother over the last fifteen years. But he had wondered over and over again why Freddie wasn't here with them, why Freddie had left the hospital and not come back?

The one time in his life he would have laid money on Freddie Jackson doing the right thing, and he had been wrong.

Jimmy needed him now, more than he had ever needed anyone in his life. Even a selfish shite like Freddie had to at least understand that much. And Jimmy had not even asked for him, it was as if he knew that Freddie would not be there. It was weird, as if Freddie not showing up was expected, even.

This was a sad and deeply odd day and Glenford prayed to God that he never had to experience anything even remotely like it in his own lifetime.

Little Freddie was on his game console when the front door opened. He didn't hear it, he was too busy killing the characters on the TV screen.

He was enjoying having the house to himself. He had not bothered to go to school as was usual. He was suspended again anyway, so he had popped round to his mates, who were also suspended, and relished telling them his news, and then he had come back and gone straight on his new game.

He hated the smell of the carpet, but he was used to it, though every now and again the stink of cigarettes from the overflowing ashtray near him made him wrinkle up his nose. He had a bowl of treats, and a large glass of orange juice that he had laced liberally with his mother's stash of vodka. She was buying it by the case these days off a geezer who lived nearby, and who did the Frog run to Calais once a month for drink and fags.

He was happy, relaxed and he was pleased with himself.

On his way home from his friends' he had pinched a few goodies from the local Indian shop. The man there was new and Little Freddie was always nice and polite to him. He had no idea the lad was smiling away while robbing him blind.

People were such fucking marks. His dad had always said that and it was true. People never expected you to be bad, they expected you to be like them. Nice and friendly and talkative, they wanted you to care about them, care about their feelings and their fucking boring lives.

But who wanted to be like them?

Who wanted to be fucking no necks all their lives?

Fear was a useful tool, and he had seen that over and over again in his young life. His father ruled everyone around him through fear, and it was a dangerous weapon. Kids at school had learned about fear sooner rather than later, he had seen to that, and it had taken him a long way in his little life.

He took anything he wanted from them, and they gave it gladly.

He was his father's son, and he was proud of that, but only because he admired the way his father used everyone around him. How his name had guaranteed this boy a pass from almost everything he had ever done.

He looked up then and saw his father in the doorway. As they looked into each other's eyes, Freddie Junior knew that he was in deep shit.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jimmy had told Glenford to go home, but Glenford was going nowhere. He was staying outside the room where Jimmy was sitting with his wife, trying to make sense of the day's events.

He felt as if he was on guard, was looking out for Jimmy, but he didn't know why he should feel that, or even what he was supposed to be looking out for. He had this mission come over him, and it was to take care of Jimmy.

There was something he was not telling anyone, and Glenford could feel that inside himself. Glenford felt sure that whatever Jimmy was holding back was so explosive that, if he let it go, it would reverberate through the whole of their world. But if he needed to let it go, then he would be waiting here for his friend.

It was respect, it was friendship, and it was all he knew to do that would be useful at this terrible time. If Jimmy needed someone, he would be there, on hand. That was what he wanted to do.

He could feel his pain and he wished he could take it from him even if only for a while.

He had popped out to his car and made a few calls, alerting everyone to the tragedy that had befallen Jimmy and his family, and then after a quick toot on his pipe he had come straight back inside.

He loved Jimmy, but he had never realised just how much until this had happened. It was like some kind of revelation he had experienced. He knew now that he loved Jimmy Jackson more than his own kin, more than his own family. Jimmy had been more to him, after all was said and done, than anyone else in his world.

He loved the man, and why shouldn't he? Jimmy had always been there for him. In fact they had always been there for each other.

And Glenford could not leave him. He didn't know why, but he could not leave him alone this night. That would have been far too cold, almost unreasonable, and if Jimmy went off at any point, then he would be sitting nearby, waiting to stop him going overboard. He knew that at some point Jimmy was going to lose his mind, and when that happened, he would be there for him.

It was dark when Freddie finally walked into the hospital, and Glenford, who had never been his biggest fan, was shocked at the look of him. He was bedraggled, he was grey-faced and he was obviously in great pain, not so much physical as emotional.

He had been crying, that much was evident. In fact he looked devastated, and that was something Glenford had not been expecting.

So he found himself standing up and saying gently, 'You all right, man?'

Freddie sat down beside him, and putting his head in his hands he said, 'No, no, I'm not, Glenford. How is he?'

Glenford rubbed a hand over his face. 'How would you be if it was you? The man is completely and utterly disrupted. His life is finished. I never seen him look so bad before. He is on the edge.'

Freddie knew he was speaking the truth, knew he was telling him the score.

'Has he said anything?'

'About the boy? Nothing, really. I think he's in shock…' He sighed. 'I feel like he's keeping something back. It's weird but he's all off kilter. You know what I mean?'

'I know exactly what you mean, Glenford.'

It was a strange answer. Something was seriously wrong and Glenford Prentiss could not shake off the feeling that both Freddie and Jimmy had another completely separate agenda.