Maggie had no intention of answering him, she just wanted him to go away. He had followed her out here when she had wanted to be alone, had just wanted to gather her thoughts together.

'He was my son. Admit it. Go on, admit that to me now.'

He was being hurtful now. He wanted her to finally admit that it was his child, to say it to him and Maggie's contempt for him was wiping away his sympathy.

'Will you go away.'

Her voice had regained some of its strength, and was much louder than she had meant it to be.

'Maggie, say it.'

She interrupted him then. 'Oh, fuck off, Freddie. You raped me, and now, even on the day of my child's burial, you have to try and make my life miserable. Will you leave me alone now he's dead? Can I breathe easy now because the thing you held over my head for all those years has been buried, and you have no power any more. Is this your last attempt at breaking me?'

He was shaking his head at her now.

'Go away, Freddie, before I scream for my husband and tell him what you did to me.'

Kimberley heard a scuffling noise, and she quickly walked behind the summerhouse. After a few seconds she poked her head around the corner, and saw Maggie stumbling over the lawn as she tried to make her way back to the house. Her father was still in the summerhouse, and when he finally emerged about fifteen minutes later she was amazed to see that he was crying.

Jackie was listening to her mother and father talking about when they had been young. This was always the way when they were at funerals or weddings. Any family gathering ended up with her parents telling them all tales of times long past and the things that had happened to long-dead relatives.

She lapped it up. It was so comfortable in Maggie's lovely front room with its deep soft sofas and cream-coloured walls. The girls were ensconced on the largest of the three sofas with her, and she was actually enjoying the evening so much she had forgotten they were all there for a funeral.

Lena was telling the girls about her own grandmother now, how she smoked a pipe and never missed Mass, how her grandfather had battered her nearly every day, and how she had followed him only weeks after his death.

'Silly cow, how could she love someone who gave her a clump on a daily basis? When he finally popped off she should have had a bleeding party!' Rox's voice was annoyed, and they all smiled at her.

Freddie, who was now sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, laughed out loud.

Jimmy was sitting opposite him and he stared at him for long moments as Freddie laughed, that irritating, sarcastic laugh he had.

Seeing Jimmy looking at him, Freddie said in a friendly way, 'By the way, don't worry, Jimmy, I will sort out the takes tomorrow.'

Jimmy knew this was meant to be his chance to take the olive branch, to try to resolve their differences.

He had to be joking.

This was the day of his baby boy's funeral and he was only letting Freddie and his kin inside his home because of Maggie, because Maggie was finding some kind of peace having the girls around. She was sitting with her mother now, holding her hand tightly, and he knew she was looking for comfort and that, like himself, she would not find it.

'Don't bother, it's already sorted.'

Joe heard the exchange and saw the look on Jimmy's face. His sudden angry countenance seemed almost demonic.

He was looking at Freddie with such contempt Joe expected his burly son-in-law to take umbrage, to leap up from the floor and confront Jimmy.

Instead he sat there and took it. But Joe guessed that soon these two men were going to collide, and he knew who his money would be on as the victor.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

'I want him out, Oz, and I want him out sooner rather than later.'

Ozzy nodded, forgetting that Jimmy couldn't see him since they were on the phone. As always, Ozzy liked his young protégé's straight talking and he was pleased that Freddie was being aimed out at last. Personally, he would have seen the back of him years ago.

Since the boy had died he had felt a marked change in Jimmy. He was harder, and he was also easier to nark. This was to be expected, he supposed.

When the news had been broadcast to the wing that poor Jimmy Jackson had lost his son in tragic circumstances, Ozzy had seen the reaction of the men who had children, especially the ones with young families. He had understood Jimmy's grief much better then. Never having had a child himself, he could only imagine what it felt like to lose one.

Jimmy, like many a man before him, was focusing on his work to get through this terrible time. Everything in life was geared around it. It was working in Jimmy's favour, anyway, helped him escape all this grief. Ozzy had watched men in prison dissolve after an event like that.

Maggie, he understood, was not coping with it at all, and he also guessed that Jimmy couldn't even scratch the surface of her grief. How could he? Women were a different species and as they were the ones who grew the children inside them anyway, he assumed they felt the loss far more than the fathers. Though the newspapers and the TV news told him, some women had no feelings for their offspring, and he knew Maggie had not taken to the child at first.

Ozzy sighed inwardly. He was distressed for Jimmy, felt for him, but Ozzy could still see the personal opportunity that his grief was affording him. He was going to overhaul the businesses and he was starting off by getting rid of the dead wood.

'You do it, Jimmy, you have a good old clear out, son. It's long overdue anyway.'

'All right, son?' Freddie slowed the car down to the annoyance of the drivers behind him, and he waved at his son through the open window.

Little Freddie smiled and waved back, and his father tooted the horn of his car as he drove past him and the two friends he was walking to school with.

Freddie smiled. He was all right, there was nothing wrong with that boy. He was highly strung like his old man, that was all. It was temper, and he also had a temper, as those who crossed him found out to their detriment. Well, his boy had inherited it from him, so he couldn't be all bad.

His sorrow and shock had completely gone and Jimmy was the new focus of his attention. Jimmy was the bad bastard, and Jimmy had better watch out.

Freddie was weaving in and out of the early-morning traffic and he was cursing and gesturing to all the other, less-capable drivers who had the audacity to be on the road. He was driving to Jimmy's suite of new offices in a purpose-built block in Barking. Jimmy was working from there exclusively now, and they really looked the part.

Freddie was disgusted about them, seeing the use of them as a front as a mug's game, and he told anyone who would listen to him that Jimmy was heading for a fall. Filth raided premises as it was – their homes, their safe houses. Why put yourself in the frame by advertising your existence?

But Jimmy was running legitimate businesses from there, and the other stuff was only ever discussed in the place. Nothing tangible could ever link any of the employees to anything that was not above board and taxable. Jimmy was moving with the times while Freddie was still stuck in a time warp.

Freddie was fuming because he had not heard from Jimmy for a week, and then he'd got a message telling him to come to his office. Well, he was on his way, and he was going to sort it out once and for all. This showdown had been a long time coming. He was more than ready for it, and he was prepared to go to any lengths to see that it happened.

'Maggie's bad, Mum. I am really worried about her.'