She had to admit, Jimmy Junior had been a lovely little kid. She conveniently forgot the times she had accused her sister of ruining the boy, had felt that her mother and father had preferred him to her son, had accused them in her drunkenness of favouritism and used any excuse to make out the child wasn't right.
Now she was the perfect sister, or at least she had tried to be, but even at this terrible time Maggie had not wanted to see her, and that had hurt.
The official story was that no one had been able to get across the doorstep, but she knew in her heart that the girls had been allowed access, especially her Rox, who was closer to Maggie than she had ever been to her own mother. Jackie swallowed down her anger at her thoughts, and then she gulped at her glass of vodka to calm her thoughts, and quickly washed down a few Valium before spraying herself with Giorgio perfume and slipping on her old black suede slingbacks. Her feet were spilling over the edges, but once she had worn them for a few minutes they moulded into her shape and were comfortable.
As her old Nan used to say, get yourself a good bed and a good pair of shoes, because if you ain't in one, you are in the other. Wise words.
She had also said many times, never drink to forget, because no one ever forgets the ramblings of a piss head. For Jackie, that had been proved to be true.
Maggie stared at the small white coffin and wondered at a God who could have given her a child in such terrible circumstances and had then seen fit to take him away from her. It was cold in the church, and she was aware that everyone was watching her as if waiting for her to do something.
All she wanted to do was die. How would her little Jimmy get on all alone? But then, he had been given plenty of practice at being alone, hadn't he? She had left him to his own devices enough times.
The pain hit her once more. It came in waves, washing over her like an icy wind, making her bones ache and her jaw numb. Maggie was freezing with pain, she was almost stiff with the cold knowledge of her son's death and the awful suspicion that this feeling inside her would never be eased, it would never get any better, that it could only get worse.
She felt suddenly as if she was floating up into the air, like she was suspended over the crowd of people all singing their hearts out.
She felt Jimmy grab her hand and squeeze it tightly, and she fought back the urge to snatch it away from him, make him stop this charade. She wanted to scream out the black, putrid hate that was building up inside her.
Freddie, she noticed, was not crying. Jackie was, a loud, heavy, liquid sound that made her want to retch. They were in the pew opposite them. It was Glenford who was sitting with them, and she knew that some people must have been questioning that fact.
Roxanna, who was sitting beside her father in a smart black two-piece that must have set her back a small fortune, was also crying, but her tears Maggie appreciated. Rox's tears were clean and salty looking, she even cried in a tidy, designer way. Dabbing at her eyes daintily with a snow-white handkerchief, unconsciously making sure her make-up wasn't ruined.
Dicky, the love of Rox's life, was sitting on her right side. He had a handsome profile. He was a good-looking man, and they would produce a lovely child. She envied them, not in a nasty, jealous way, but in a wistful way. She envied them their love and the newness of everything. She had been like that once with Jimmy, and she had believed, as they probably believed, that their life would be charmed somehow. That nothing bad could happen to them, that they were different to everyone else, their love could only bring them joy.
Of course life had a habit of kicking you squarely in the teeth, and she prayed that those two young lovers would not find that out for a long time.
Jimmy was shaking with his grief. He was sitting beside her with his head down and his shoulders hunched over, and she could almost feel his pain, it was so acute.
Yet she now felt nothing, she just wanted this over.
Behind her she could hear her mother sobbing and her father's inadequate words of comfort whispered in the quiet of the church. It was too little, too late.
She felt like screaming once more but she forced herself to keep quiet, forced herself to people-watch, to take her mind off her troubles.
Jackie was slumped in the pew. Her fat legs were crossed and her black skirt had ridden up over her knees to display varicose veins and milk bottle white calves that wouldn't have looked out of place on Geoff Capes.
Maggie wanted to laugh, but she didn't. She wanted to stand up and ask the people in this packed church why they had even come. Most of them had only glimpsed her little Jimmy. Many were here to show their friendship, a good few to show their respect for her husband and his employer, but she also knew there were people attending her son's burial who would brag about it. Who saw it as an event not to be missed.
But Jimmy was well able for the hangers-on, always had been. It was Freddie who had trouble keeping them at bay like normal people. He embraced them, needed them and their approbation, and their sneaky little ways of carrying on.
The priest was saying the Gospel now. Soon she could go, soon she could make her escape from the kind people who thought that shaking her hand and kissing her cheek would make everything all right.
They were all back at the house and the main crowd had finally gone. It was early evening, and the only people left were close family and a few friends.
Jimmy had been pleased with the turnout. It was reassuring to know that so many people cared about Jimmy Junior, knew him, wanted to pay their respects. Even his little friends from his playschool had been represented by the owners and the young girls who had worked there.
Maggie had sat through the whole thing without a word or a tear.
She had not accepted any condolences and even her old friends had found themselves being blanked. Seriously blanked, in fact. She had not even returned their phone calls or acknowledged their black-edged cards, cards that she said spewed out their own fear of death while pretending to sympathise with her loss.
The service had been beautiful, and the tears from the women present had been heartfelt. Burying a child was difficult, no one wanted it to be happening but they would rather it was someone else's child than their own.
Freddie was drinking heavily, but then so were most of the people in the place. Even Jimmy was the worse for wear, but on a day like this what else was there to do? He just wanted to try to anaesthetise the pain inside him, that was all.
His parents were both at a loss, and he felt, as he often did, that he was completely apart from them and their life. Lena and Joe were in pieces. Joe was hammering the whisky and, if it helped him get though the day, he was glad of that. Lena had aged so much in such a short space of time, and he was heart sorry for her.
She had said a very true thing to him that afternoon. She said that this kind of heartbreak made you realise what was really important in life, and when you experienced it, then thought back to what you had seen as important before the event, you suddenly understood that really, you were as nothing in the grand scheme of things.
It showed you that life was just a series of events, that was all, and you had no real power over it whatsoever. You just thought you did.
Jimmy had nodded his agreement, and it had occurred to him that he loved Lena Summers. She was a lovely woman and he was lucky to have her as his mother-in-law.
That thought made him glance at poor old Dicky, who would soon be lumbered with having Jackie as his. What a terrifying thought that was.