So that’s happened at last, thought Connor, watching his sister and his partner from the other side of the grave as the priest said the last words of blessing for Josh’s eternal soul. Well, this fucking awful day was yielding some good news after all. Aysha and Benedict? He’d always felt they’d be good together. When Connor questioned Benedict about his cut lip, Benedict told him about Joey showing up; they’d had a ruck but he’d dealt with it, and Connor was pleased about that, too. Fucking little weasel had finally got what he deserved.

Now the ceremony was over. The priest hurried away and the mourners were picking their way over the tussocky mounds of grass toward the gravelled pathway leading to the lych gate, all of them hunched against the probing wind. Connor turned away from his father’s grave, anguished, and then he saw something that made him freeze to the spot.

There was a middle-aged blonde woman dressed in black, standing out by the lych gate, her gaze fixed on Josh’s grave.

It was her. It was that bitch, Claire Milo.

He stared, thinking it couldn’t be. But it was. The shoulder-length bobbed pale hair billowing in the breeze. The big eyes. Fuck’s sake, it was her, the woman in the photos with Dad. He moved forward then and her eyes drifted away from the grave and fastened on him, standing there, staring right back at her. Any minute, Mum was going to see her and there’d be hell to pay. He surged forward, making his way toward her. She saw him coming and turned on her heel and started to hurry away.

Yeah, bitch, you can run but I can run faster.

He couldn’t get over the fucking nerve of her, showing up here today. He jogged through the groups of mourners, passing Aysha, who looked at him in surprise. Once he was out on the pavement, he caught sight of her, down the road, getting into a car. He started to run. He wasn’t going to lose her now. He ran full-pelt to the car and got there just as the engine was starting. It was a big black S-Class Merc and there were tinted windows so all he could see in the back of the car was an outline, a pale face turned upward to stare at him in alarm. Another one too. There was someone else in there with her.

Yeah, be afraid. I’ll throttle the life out of you if I get my fucking hands on you, you cow.