Marge hissed.
Remembering her pal’s night of debauched passion with Donkey Dave, Marlene wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. She had to play the grieving, loving partner. It was what today was all about. She held Barry’s arm one side, Marge’s the other, and promptly turned on the waterworks.
‘You OK, Mum?’ Barry asked.
‘Of course I’m bloody OK. I’m acting, you idiot. Where’s the family? Can you see ’em anywhere?’ Marlene spat.
Barry shrugged. ‘None of us know what they look like, do we? I doubt his ex-old woman is here anyway, Jake always said she fucking despised him. Most people are going inside the chapel now, so we’ll have to clock the front row to work out who’s who.’
‘I should be sitting in the bloody front row. I’m the poor bastard that had to suck his sweaty little cock for years,’ Marlene whispered in Marge’s ear.
When Marge burst out laughing, Barry looked at her and his mother in horror. ‘For fuck’s sake, yous two, show some respect. You’re at a man’s funeral, not his birthday party.’
Marlene let out a huge racking sob and pretended to almost faint as she walked into the packed chapel.
‘Stand up straight, Mother, everybody’s looking at us,’ Barry hissed.
Aware that she had definitely now got everybody’s attention, Marlene continued to sob loudly throughout the whole service.
‘That’s gotta be the daughters, ain’t it? Front pew on the right,’ Marge said.
Marlene nodded. She had spotted the two women scowling at her a few minutes ago. Both were skinny, plain and had great big noses just like Jake’s. They were definitely their father’s daughters, all right. ‘Do you reckon that’s his ex-wife next to ’em?’ Marlene whispered, dabbing her eyes with a hankerchief.
‘Dunno, but she looks a right old dragon, whoever she is,’ Marge replied.
As the service ended and the curtains closed, Frank Sinatra’s ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ came blaring out of the speakers. Sinatra had been Jake’s favourite singer and he used to regularly croon his songs on stage in their bar over in Spain. The senile old sod had even thought he sounded like his idol.
Marlene walked out of the chapel, acting as though she was being physically supported by Barry and Marge. Once she started a bit of role play she had always found it very difficult to switch back off. ‘I need to see if my beautiful wreath is here,’ she said loudly, in an overly dramatic voice.
‘Tone it down, Mother, you’re making yourself look a right cunt,’ Barry whispered in her ear.
‘Marlene! How wonderful to see you again, though what a shame it has to be under such awful circumstances. How are you bearing up? What happened must have been the most awful shock for you?’
Marlene squeezed the tall, thin man’s hand. Slippery Joe had been one of Jake’s lifelong friends. He had visited her and Jake out in Spain a couple of times every year, and Marlene had always found him quite charming. Unlike Jake, Joe was quite handsome and extremely charismatic and Marlene had never forgotten Jake telling her how he had earned his nickname. ‘Back in the old days, when banks were easy to get into and rob, Joe was the master of it. He was so skinny and agile he used to slip through the hole in the vaults that people would dig, then he would pass the money through and slither back out like an eel,’ Jake had explained.
‘I miss my Jakey boy so much, Joe. He was my life: I don’t know how I’m going to cope without him,’ Marlene said, her voice full of sorrow.
Unable to listen to any more of his mother’s crap, Barry lit up a cigarette and walked over to where the flowers lay.
‘Marlene’s been in a terrible state, Joe. She’s been staying with me, bless her,’ Marge said, joining in with the deceit.
‘And do you know what hurts the most, Joe? Ten wonderful years I spent with my Jake, yet I never had any say in his funeral and I only found out when and where it was because Eddie Spurling rang me up to tell me. For years I told Jake we should get married because I knew one day something like this would bloody well happen,’ Marlene wept.
Slippery Joe put a comforting arm around Marlene. Jake had never had any intention of marrying Marlene, he knew that for a fact, but it was neither the time nor place to say so. ‘Jake loved you very much, Marlene. You made him very happy,’ he assured her. The last time Joe had spoken to Jake, he had been anything but happy with Marlene, and had even spoken briefly about leaving her.
‘I take it that’s Jake’s daughters over there? Who’s that woman and man with them?’ Marlene asked, spotting the people who had been sitting in the front pew on the left.
‘That’s Jake’s ex-wife, Anne, and her brother, Thomas.’
‘What’s she doing here? I thought she hated his guts,’ Marlene spat.
‘Anne probably came to support Miranda and Isabelle.’
‘But Jake always said that his daughters hated him an’ all. Two-faced bastards,’ Marlene mumbled.
‘Some people have got no morals, mate – but to turn up here, lapping up all the attention when they haven’t spoken to the poor man for years, is beyond belief if you ask me,’ Marge said, supporting her friend.
‘I must go and say hello to a few old faces now. I take it you are both coming to the wake, girls?’
‘Wake! What wake? Eddie Spurling said that all Jake’s pals were just doing their own thing back at one another’s houses or in their local pubs.’
Realizing that he had just put his foot in it, Slippery Joe had no choice but to tell Marlene where the wake was. ‘It was a last-minute change of plan, Marlene. We were just going to have a drink at a pal’s house, but the numbers got out of hand. The wake is now being held in a pub not far from here called the Bedford Park. You must come; in fact I insist you come.’
‘Yes, we will bloody come, won’t we?’ Marge said, nudging her friend. She guessed that the drinks would be free, and missing out on a good piss-up was not in Marge’s nature.
‘I’ll see you there,’ Joe said, keen to make his escape.
Marlene linked arms with Marge and dragged her over to where Barry was standing.
‘Are we gonna go?’ Marge asked her pal.
Marlene smirked. ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the fucking world.’
Stephanie and Wayne had just enjoyed a first-class lunch in Smith’s fish restaurant in Ongar. It had been ages since they had been out as a couple and Steph had thoroughly enjoyed herself. ‘We must do this more often once we’ve got the wedding out of the way, Wayne. I can’t remember the last time you and I went out without the kids, can you?’
Wayne squeezed Stephanie’s hand. ‘It’s my fault, I’m always working lately, but I promise you faithfully, once we’re wed, we’ll do shit like this at least a couple of times a month.’
Stephanie looked lovingly into her man’s eyes. Because of Wayne being a workaholic and the children’s presence, it had been ages since they had made love. Apart from the odd late-night fumble, their sex life had suffered from the stresses of everyday monotony over the past year or so. ‘I’ve got a fab idea,’ Stephanie suggested.
‘What, babe?’
‘Why don’t I get Dannielle’s friend’s mum to pick her up from school, so we can go home and have a bit of me and you time? I told my mum that I wouldn’t pick Tyler up until sixish, so what do you think?’
‘Why didn’t your mum go to work today? Is she ill?’ Wayne asked.
‘No. Both her and Cath booked a day off work so they could watch the comings and goings across the road for Jake’s funeral. Gutted, my mum was when I dropped Tyler off. She reckons Marlene