Stephen wanted to help. ‘What can I do, Gran?’ he said.

‘Just be your sweet self, love.’

‘And me, Gran?’ Bernard said.

‘That goes double for you, sunshine.’

‘I’ll wash up,’ Stephen said.

‘I’ll dry.’

‘Thank you, boys.’ Dear God, mind those boys or I will come after you.

People queued to see Rabbit and to pay their respects. Once they did so, they were greeted by a member of the Hayes family offering them food and beverages and it seemed to work – there was time for kind words and heartfelt condolences, a story or two about the good old days. No one mentioned the tweet, but Molly was in no doubt that they’d all read about it or heard it. It hung over her like a cloud but she kept busy tending to the needs of others, just as she liked it.

She spent a lot of time repeating the words tea, coffee, wine, a little nip surely? Or you have to try Pauline’s coffee cake, until Pauline herself called a halt to her gallop.

‘I’m taking over.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘This is not a restaurant and you are no waitress. Relax a bit, talk to people.’

Molly didn’t really want to talk to people, but her best friend wasn’t taking no for an answer so she abided.

‘Fine, then, Monica Leary wants an egg mayo sandwich, a coffee and a nip of whiskey on the side.’

‘Does she now?’ Pauline said. ‘I hope it keeps fine for her.’

Without something to do, Molly just took a moment to repose.

‘It could have been worse,’ a stranger said to her, a man in his early sixties.

‘Excuse me?’

‘My Tracy died in a three-car pile-up.’

Dear God, take these murderous thoughts away before I dishonour you in the worst way.

‘How is that worse?’ she asked through gritted teeth.

‘Well, you couldn’t have laid her out in the dining room,’ he said sincerely.

‘Do I know you?’

‘No,’ he said, ‘I saw the news #AllDressedUpNowhereToGo and I only live half a mile away.’

‘So you know no one here?’

‘I know Father Frank.’

‘Right,’ she said, and she turned to face the assembled crowd. ‘Ah, just a quick word from management.’

Everyone became silent and waited for the mother of the deceased to say something profound. Dear God, forgive me for what I’m about to say.

‘Anyone who’s here just ’cause of the news #GetTheFuckOut.’

As nearly everyone in the room knew Molly Hayes well, the room exploded with laughter; even Grace managed to break a smile, although she was still steaming. The ice was well and truly broken and suddenly people were nattering.

‘Rabbit Hayes on the news,’ Pauline said. ‘And the lovely things they said about her as a journalist and blogger.’

Grace was still upset. ‘Ryan shouldn’t have done it.’