Her gaze had drifted repeatedly to the coffin as she waited. There were always spare coffins in the shed behind Charley Sawyer’s forge, for death could strike at any time, and it was best to be prepared. But how could one possibly be prepared when it was a son who had been struck down so cruelly?

‘It’s time, Gran,’ said Terence softly as he walked into the kitchen followed by Amy Blake’s three hulking brothers and the rest of her family.

Gwyneth gently lifted Wally from her lap and snuggled him into the dog basket under the table. Then she rose from her chair and placed her hand softly on top of the coffin for a moment and then turned away to pick up her gloves and prayer book.

As the four men shouldered Max’s coffin and carried it out of the front door and along the path, she saw a distressed Sal waiting by the gate with Brandy. ‘Come, my dear,’ she murmured. ‘Give me your arm. We’ll see this through together.’

There were three drays waiting in the street, each harnessed to a black horse that had been groomed to a gleam. Black plumes had been attached to their crownpieces, and the men who sat at the reins lifted their hats in respect as all three coffins were solemnly loaded on to the drays.

Gwyneth nodded to the other mourners and steeled herself for what was to come. The whole town had turned out, their numbers swollen by the firefighters, those who’d come in to help and the families of the other two dead men. There would be gossip, for most of them would never have heard of Max, let alone known that he was her son.

She patted Sal’s hand, knowing that her presence beside her would also make her the subject of speculation. ‘Don’t mind them,’ she advised softly. ‘What they think doesn’t matter.’

Sal nodded and tightened her grip on Brandy’s shiny new lead as the rest of Gwyneth’s family gathered behind them and the cortege slowly moved off and trundled down the street.

There was a heavy silence as men raised their hats, women bowed their heads and wide-eyed children followed their progress. Gwyneth kept her gaze focused on the coffin, glad to have Sal’s support as they accompanied their beloved Max on his last journey.

*

The service was over and the elderly minister from Blackall had followed the rest of the mourners to the pub, where Annie and Sean O’Halloran were trying to keep pace with the demands of their thirsty customers.